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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

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"i feel kinda ugly" ft. the monster trio!

in which the biggest dumbasses in the whole of sea comfort you when you fall prey to your shitty thoughts

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

set-up: you happened to utter out what you thought of yourself and these men are here to prove you wrong. (kind of a serious set of headcanons, but ill try being funny when i can)

warnings: nsfw; somnophilia if you squint, oral f!receiving and m!recieving, boobjob, creampie; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

my fav little gremlin's in town ^^

- "i feel kinda ugly" you had muttered it under your breath, words dissolving into the chilly night air. you were laying on your shared bed, staring up at the uneventful ceiling as he snored lightly next to you. - he was supposed to be asleep, atleast that's what you had thought (how can you expect him to stay up after eating like 500kg of meat??) - but he stirs awake almost instantly, turning his head to look at your face. he stifles a yawn, mumbling through a half-lidded gaze, "why would you say that?" - "why would i say what?" you smile, waving it off as if it had just been a wayward thought - but lord knows the amount of nights you've tossed and turned, thinking about all the ways you were incompetent for this man who lay in front of you. you weren't pretty like nami or robin, you weren't quick-witted like them, god, what did he see in you? - "who said you were ugly?" his face is scrunched up, the crease b/w his eyebrows deepening "luffy let it g-" "no. who said it?" his violent undertone doesn't go unnoticed, as if he's threatening to take care of whoever made you miserable - you don't have the heart to tell him it's yourself. you convinced yourself you weren't pretty enough. - and so, you stay silent - but his arms are pulling you impossibly close. closer and closer till your chest is pressed flushed against his and you're staring at him confused - "luf-" "that's bullshit." there's conviction in his words that make a dull warmth cascade over your face and neck. - he is pressing his forehead against yours, hands gripping onto you tightly as if letting his grip loosen means he loses this argument. "you're beautiful. you're smart and kind and beautiful." - at this point, youre about to cry - but he inhales deeply, then says "not to mention you smell like a fruit. thats tasty." - yeah the tears dried up. they fucked off and went to sahara desert. - youre currently fighting off a smile because what the actual fuck prompted this man to say that??? and more importantly what fruit do you smell like? "what fruit do i smell like?" "mhm" he's deep in thought, "tangerines" "luffy everyone smells like tangerine. it's because of nami's tangerine trees." he shrugged, "still pretty tasty" - and now youre kissing his adorably stupid face. your fingers tug on the hair on his nape lightly and he whines into the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip as he does so - "you're so pretty" and so he's kissing your neck, nibbling and grazing lazily - two seconds later, he fell asleep. - like actually fell asleep. his mouth is on your neck, open mouthed and half-nibbling and he's snoring through it all. (i mean, what did you expect from someone who had eaten 500kg of meat??) - issokay though cause the second he wakes up, his fingers are hiking one of your legs over his hip. the same fingers then slip inside the loose folds of your shorts, playing with your pretty pussy till you stir awake, moaning his name - you're the one being toyed with and he's the one whispering and whining like he's gonna explode "does that feel good, ngh-" a grin, "god... fuck, cum for me, pretty" - he continues till your velvety walls are spasming against his fast-paced fingers and your teeth are sinking into his shoulder, muffling shrieks this early in the morning - "you're gorgeous" he whispers through a grin - you choose to believe him

zoro:

myhusband ^^

- this was the last thing you wanted. truly. - zoro had just stepped out of the shower with nothing but a towel losely tied around his waist (this was after he had succesfully ignored you and trained for like an eternity) - water droplets clung onto his broad figure, slowly trailing downwards as they glided over every ridge and scar - you probably should have pulled him onto the bed with you, straddled his hips and asked him to stop ignoring you to go spend time with his swords - you probably should have. - instead, you lay stomach-down on your bed, your head softly cradled beneath your arms and against the pillow - "what's up with you?" he asks, unfazed to your tactics "nothing" you mumble half-heartedly he gave you a double over, "you sure? you're sulking more than usual" "i-" you sigh, "i just idk... i just feel kinda ugly?" - this motherfucker laughs, "yeah i mean you kinda are" - he didn't know you were serious. he didn't know till you were softly crying against the linen sheets, your body shivering against your own cries and staggered breaths - "yn?" there's panic in his voice, "yn, baby, are you crying?! fUCK IM SORRY!" - he didn't know you were serious. i mean how wAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! HE THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON LIKE ALWAYS - "hey" you've never heard the swordsman speak so softly as he does now. he's pulling you up softly, placing you in his lap almost mechanically, "yn, baby-" - he lets you sob into his chest for as long as you need to, his fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into your back, arms and waist. - once you've calm down, his hand tips your face lightly towards him. he silently wipes the tears away. - he doesn't say anything and somehow his silence brings more comfort than his words could. - "don't think stupid shit" his palm is resting on your face, pouring warmth across the stretch of your cheek, "you're gorgeous." "but you said im ugly" you lean into his touch "i also said i will return back nami's loans with full interest" a small smile tugs on his lips, "sometimes even i say stupid shit" "so, you don't think i'm ugly?" - his response comes in the way of leaning in and kissing you, one hand on your cheek as the other kneads your waist. - he's laying you down, hovering over you easily and pressing hot kisses to your neck and jawline. sucking, biting till you can feel bruises blossoming across your skin. his knee presses against your core, blinding you with delicious jolts " his agile fingers are hiking up your skirt, letting it pool around your waist, "let me show you how pretty you are, baby" - so, he's pulling your panties with his teeth, he's licking a clean stripe on your inner thigh, kissing and bruising the sensitive skin "and you're dripping wet already? want me to fuck you that bad, eh?" - he's running his tongue over your clit, tracing figures as he alternates between your drooling hole and the bundle of nerves - and so obviously you're now cumming on his face, letting your juices coat his lips, thighs shaking as he gives you kitten licks to help you ride your orgasm - he looks up at you; your hairline damp with sweat, eyes closed in bliss, a warm hue of red sprinkled across your face, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath "i've never seen someone prettier" he declares from between the plush of your thighs, smiling up at you like it was the first time he had truly seen you - you choose to believe him

sanji:

mhm, a fine specimen ^^

- you don't keep secrets from sanji. - or more like you physically cannot. - this man is your greatest cheerleader, there's no way you can hide something from him no matter how squeamish it makes you to say out loud - so after noticing your off behaviour the entire evening and pestering you for twenty minutes after dinner, he had successfully got you to say what you were thinking out loud "sweetheart, darling, the apple of my eye. what is wrong?" you shake your head again, "nothing." "yn, my love, 'fess up" - he said it so sweetly you had to fess up. there was no choice. - "i just feel a bit bad about myself today" "bad? how so?" "i just... just feel kinda ugly" - he looks like he's going into cardiac arrest (he probably is) cause there's no way you, his girlfriend, literally the prettiest girl in all four seas just said that out loud - honestly, i can just see this man tearing up and blaming himself "is it me, mon chéri? did i do something wrong?" tears are clinging on dangerously onto his lasheline "what?! no!" "i am sorry. i love you so much. i must have said something wrong because you're so gorgeous, so earth-shatteringly beautiful-" - honestly you had to calm this bitch down first, explaining to him that he was perfect in every way he can be, it's probably just your own fault - but he refuses to accept it as your fault. - this man, this beautiful, amazing man has to now cling onto you and pepper kisses onto you face like there's no tomorrow. like everytime you try to speak, he wont let you cause he needs to ramble about how absolutely gorgeous you are - he spoke for so long that you are now convinced that to the world you may not be the prettiest woman alive but to this blonde man (with a great ass), you mean everything - his kisses blended into soft whispers and whimpers as you forced him to rest against the headboard and straddled his hips - you can feel his poking erection through his dress slacks as you kiss him senseless with only one goal in mind, to let him know he did nothing wrong - you nudge his slacks downwards till his cock hits you lightly in your face - your lips encircle his tip, sucking on it lightly as your hand moves up and down his length, languid and slow "yn~" his voice is a choked whisper, "you- are killing me. faster, please darling." - now you're catching his dick between your tits, massaging his length with the softness of your breasts as your tongue laps up at his tip, licking any pre-cum that escapes him "fuck fuck fuck fu-" his moans are an incoherent ramble, "i'm gon' cum, fuck you feel- so ngh- good" - he comes on your tits and face and almost releases again when he sees you scoop up the sticky fluid from the corner of your lips and lick it away - so with cum-painted tits and face, he whispers, "yn, you are the most gorgeous woman i have seen." - you choose to believe him

a/n: honestly cannot thank you guys for how much you'be blown up these posts in the past few days, so here, have a little treat

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sailing-ever-west · 4 months

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list of random little changes opla made that were just Correct

Zoro gave Helmeppo that awful haircut

Luffy didn't explode a chunk of the Baratie he just ate a ridiculous amount of food then tried to dine and dash

Don Krieg got one-shotted by Mihawk in 3 seconds

11yo Sanji jumped Zeff with a knife not because he was trying to protect the ship but because the jerk tried to season his food

Usopp drunkenly rambled to Mihawk for an unknown amount of time before deciding he seemed like a chill guy to introduce to the whole crew

The Kuro fight got turned into a horror sequence inside the house

The Coco Village pinwheels were made out of tangerine peels 😭

UsoKaya kiss

list of random little changes opla made that weren't necessarily Correct but boy do they fascinate me

They fricking killed Merry????

Zoro didn't rescue that girl from Helmeppo's dog she just saw him walk in with a dead body and was like I'm gonna give this guy chocolate

They carried Buggy's head around for 2 episodes and he just made fun of them constantly as if they couldn't drop him overboard anytime

Helmeppo's naked buttcheeks jumpscare

The trap beats every time Arlong came onscreen

Whatever the h e c k was going on between Zeff and Garp

#opla #opla spoilers #opla changes #one piece

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tange-my-rine · 2 months

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bun in the oven || Tangerine × afab!reader

Summary: The two lines were haunting you. Of course, it was after a month's trip -when you hadn't seen him in so long. So, you spent an insane amount of time thinking just how he'd react and if your world would come crashing down as soon as he'd heard the words. You were totally fine. Totally.

TW: unplanned pregnancy, worrying, blood, injuries, cursing (it's Tangerine) and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: I use gender neutral pronouns, but you are pregnant so... I hope that opens it up to more people. Enjoy :)]]

He'd been gone for at least a month. You actually weren't sure, it was kind of blurry; you'd been working so much and then you'd... Well, you'd missed your period and made an appointment and they tested your blood.

Every day since then had been monotonous, ringing in your ears and your brain running 100 miles a minute. You stayed home most of the time, eating some weird food combination (you honestly thought it was a myth), and being nervous out of your goddamn mind.

It's not like you'd ever talked about this. You talked about the future, yeah, and he was always saying 'I'm goin' to marry you one day, love' with those eyes.

He said it once with his head in your lap and your hand twisted into his hair, blue eyes all soft and sappy -like he couldn't believe you were even there. He'd said it again when you gently cleaned off a cut along his cheekbone, between his legs as he sat on a stool -he didn't even take his eyes off you for a second. All soft words and even softer smiles.

You did believe him, you did.

But you hadn't yet, and they were just words -no matter how genuine and earnest they seemed.

Everything in your body tingled, and you weren't sure you were even thinking straight for weeks. That's probably why when he'd showed up, you'd been the most tired you'd ever been but still somehow bouncing off your toes. You felt like a bundle of nerves just waiting to explode.

Initially, you weren't sure you even wanted to tell him then. He would be tired and bloody and hurt- You weren't positive it'd be the best time, but at the same time, you really couldn't hold it any longer than a night.

Or you didn't think you could. You really should've known better.

"Tan," you hummed, gathering his face up in your hands -turning him at different angles to see the slices and scratches littered along his skin. They were tiny, you noted, less like a knife -a big long scar, and more like... well, thorns.

"Glass," he muttered back, slow and tired, "-broke a fuckin' window, didn't have time to move."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He paused for a moment, eyes lazily drifting across your skin -always with that look.

"Don't lie to me, Tan."

"Never, darling," he smiled, a soft one that you knew was specially reserved for you, "-I think I bruised my ribs, 'at's about it."

"Honest?" You questioned, eyes heavy on his.

"Honest, love," he reiterated -eyes still following you like you were that of a dream and he hadn't woken up yet.

"Good," you echoed, trailing to grab his hand and bring him to the stool -it was your makeshift doctor's office at this point. A drawer in the kitchen filled with first aid, all ready for these nights; you'd started it after the first few visits. You think after the first time he came home bleeding you'd started stashing it all away.

"Lemon okay?" You questioned, digging around the drawer -wipes and bandages.

"Worse than me," he spoke quietly, eyes not leaving your face as you dabbed at his face, "-doctored 'im up the car. He's alright now. Conscious enough to talk about his fuckin' trains."

You smiled, he was always so worked up about his brother -wasn't he?

"He say you were a Gordon again?" You teased, trailing over a cut above his eyebrow -fingertips soft and gentle.

"No," he huffed, "-not a fuckin' Gordon."

"I know, honey," you laughed, ever-so-slightly, "-you don't have to convince me."

His lips curled into a smile, cheeks crinkling -part of you wanted to trace his crow's feet, brush your fingers into his hair. Later, you told yourself.

If you had a later, something in your mind chimed.

You stiffened, breath hollowing in your chest, hand held still against his skin; you stood a bit frozen. Rigid edges, and breaths short and quick. Something in you wondered if he could tell, if he could sense-

Tangerine paused, turning his face to match your eyes -fingers (you absentmindedly noticed blood underneath his fingernails) tilting your face with the softest of brushes, "Everythin' alright, darling?"

"What?"

He tilted his head, ignoring your movement to keep bandaging him -other hand gently wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your place. Blue eyes swimming across your own like he was trying to read you, like he could tell.

"You're all stiff," he pressed his lips together, thumb rubbing circles into your wrist.

"I'm just tired, Tan," you smiled tightly, not quite reaching your eyes before stepping forward to bandage him more.

He merely held you in place, holding your eyes with no hesitation, "That's a bullshit answer, you know 'at."

"Look," you sighed, "-can we talk about it tomorrow? When we've both slept?"

"Not if you're upset," he frowned, preturbed by your behavior -you should've known he could tell.

"Tan," you paused, careful -your voice gently shaking, something you'd only hear if you were really listening, "-I really don't..."

"Love," he tilted his head -eager to match your eyes, keep your attention, "-tell me."

You don't know what happened, if it was his voice, or his eyes, or his hands. You couldn't tell. Something bubbling up in your throat, and burning the backs of your eyes, you really didn't want to do this now-

Something crossed over his face, as he scooted down from the stool -with ease sliding his hands down your arms, keeping you there. Tangerine knew you too well.

It slipped past your lips before you could even think about it.

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth opened before he could think about it -something instinctual, "Right, and I'm the Virgin fuckin' Mary."

"Tangerine."

He paused, eyes sifting across your face -something passed through his again, something new, something you had never seen before. You swallowed, hands curled into themselves so hard that you might have bled -you couldn't tell, you were numb.

"You..." he echoed, throat dry and eyes wide open, "You're serious?"

You flattened your lips, eyes burning and tears gathering -your hands shaking and your brain thrumming in your head. You couldn't speak.

"Darling, I didn't-" he paused, swallowing hard, "-I shouldn't have said fuckin' anythin, I didn't mean- I... fuck, seriously?"

"Tan-"

He breathed out, still holding your arms in place, "Are you... Are you happy, love?"

"Are you?" You pushed through, "-I've... I've spent a month wondering if you were going to just... leave me."

"Oh, love," he sighed, bringing up his hands to cup your face -soothing in a whisper, "-love, listen. I could never, I would never leave you. You'd have to fuckin' drag me out yourself, actually-"

You laughed.

"-I'm... I wouldn't leave you," he spoke gently, eyes dipping to your stomach -there was nothing there yet, "-'specially not now."

"You're not upset?" You echoed, something shaking in your voice -he frowned at the noise, loosely pushing forward to kiss you.

His mustache tickled your lip. It was something short and sweet, warm, and sent something fluttering in your chest.

"'Course not," he hummed, hands lowering to flatten on your stomach, a smile flashing across his face, "-Actually am rather happy."

"Yeah?" Your voice cracked out, tears finally leaving your eyes -his thumbs were quick to wipe them, "-You are?"

"Very," he laughed, something of tears in his own eyes -you only smiled brighter.

"Even," you started, suddenly, "-Even with your line of work? That... You can't have a family with-"

"I'll stop," he blurted out, rash and without thought but still genuine, "-'Ave to finish a few things, tie up some loose strings but I'll... I'll stop. We can live off my money for awhile."

"Tangerine," you let out a breath, "-I can't ask you to-"

"You're not," he interrupted, bubbling up like he couldn't stop talking.

"What about... What about these nine months? Are you-" you paused, before rewording, "-Are you going to be here?"

"God, am I going to be here," he let out a weepy sort of laugh, "-I'm not leavin' your fuckin' side darling."

"What about-"

"What nothing, love," he interrupted again, now holding your face again, and he was crying you realized, "-I'm goin' to take care you. Everyday. No one can fuckin' stop me-"

"What about the danger?" You spoke, rational and clear -it was your baby, after all.

"Lemon'll move in," he said -firm and direct, "-and God forbid anyone try and get their hands on you, love. I'll rip 'em to fuckin' shreds-"

"Okay, okay," you laughed, slipping your hands over his shoulders -trying to calm him, "-I think we get it, Tan."

"We," he muttered, a little mystified -grin so wide it almost hurt to look at as he sunk to crouch in front of you, pressing his forehead to your stomach.

"Yeah, we," you reiterated, smiling big and wide.

He heaved a deep breath into your stomach, holding himself there for a minute. A bit like he needed it. You didn't mind.

And as he whispered against your stomach tiny little promises that you knew he would keep, you wondered why you ever thought he would leave you. He may be a dick sometimes, but he's not... he would never.

"I'm gettin' you a fuckin' ring."

Yeah, you thought to yourself, I'll be just fine.

#bun in the oven #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train

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jazzylovegood · 2 months

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LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE HEADCANON

Poly! Straw Hats x reader basically. These are just an idea for smth bigger.

I imagine being a part of the Straw Hats is difficult for the heart. Especially when they are all ATTRACTIVE.

Luffy

You will just be sitting there trying to snack on a tangerine just for Luffy to come up in front of you flashing the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. You will mention the fact that there are literal plants on board growing them and he will hit you with a:

"Yeah, but yours looks so much better."

How would you possibly be able to deny your adorable captain? You were going to hand the orange to him, but he ends up laying down on your lap. Eyes closed, mouth wide open waiting for you to feed it to him. This happens a lot and at the end he always pats your head or just stays there chilling.

Sanji

You wanted to help Sanji in the kitchen since you have always been interested in his work. You are trying your best to pay attention, but it is really hard to when he is staring over your shoulder whispering directions in your ear.

Every time you mess something up his hands come to your arms and gentle move them the correct way.

"There you go. Yeah, just like that, beautiful."

Nami

It is rare for Nami to make you feel this way since unlike the others she gives space, but when it is just girls being girls and she is running her hands through your hair helping you wash it, while scratching to make your scalp feel better. Your heart pounds.

She even helps you braid your hair (she learnt it from the Fishman). It would be very intimate and while you are trying not to explode, she will be just talking about her day and how one of the boys annoyed her.

Usopp

Usopp is an incredible storyteller he always has a group gathered around interested in a good Pirate's life. It's not how cute he is when telling the stories that ends up pulling at your heart strings. It is the he talks about you during the stories.

His use of words such as: beautiful, strong, smart, kind.

That just end up making the crowd fantasize about being friends with you and how cool you must be in battle. It is like Usopp's way of praising you.

Zoro

For Zoro I would like to imagine that in the live action they kept his goofy ass personality. You would be looking over a document or map making sure everything is still in check only for his big body to block the sunlight. He would be bending down looking over your shoulder and pointing to stuff on it asking questions in your ear.

He has no sense of personal space. He just never really sees anything wrong with any of his behavior.

Pulling you towards him by your waist, dropping an arm around your shoulder, moving you out of the way by effortlessly lifting you up by the hips, using your body to lean against when he is sitting. It is too much for your heart to handle.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece luffy #one piece sanji #monkey d luffy #one piece x reader #sanji #roronoa zoro #god usopp #usopp #nami #headcanon #black reader #poly straw hats #straw hat crew

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p0ssywhippedcream · 11 months

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oooh what do you think would happen if jason (grace) stood you up by accident like he was doing something and he just... forgot

Tangerines. Orange peels littered your thighs as you nervously chewed on the fruit. It had been an hour since the start time of your picnic with Jason and you'd gone through 6 tangerines.

You sat with upright posture, despite doubts, he had to show up soon. Your eyes were wide and alert as you searched the crowd on the green patch of park you occupied. He would show up soon with some excuse about getting lost in his work with minor deities and he would give you that lovely, toothy smile as he sat down.

One minute, two, four, seven, eleven, twenty went by. Two more tangerines filled your belly. Why had you brought so many tangerines? You dropped the ninth fruit back in the basket and sighed. The tangy acid of the fruit stung in your nail beds and your fingernails had stringy pieces stuck underneath them.

You pushed your hair behind your ear and left a strand of it sticky with the juice. Your posture failed, you uncrossed your legs with a huff and finally let the tears take your eyes. Just thirty more minutes and then you'd leave. You just had to make sure he wasn't coming.

You sipped at your cup of orange juice and groaned as the sun disappeared behind a cloud. It was dipping steadily, Apollo clearly had no mercy for your need for warmth. Clouds took the sky, popping up out of nowhere and turning the day gray. You looked up and you could swear the gods were laughing at you as a raindrop exploded on your eyebrow.

With a few curses, you began to pack up the picnic basket that was busy with watermelon and pb&j sandwhiches. You stuffed all the peels in unceremoniously as the rain really began to pour. Your ponytail got soaked and allowed the water a single path down your back, each droplet in your hair flowing down it and drenching your clothes.

Snatching the blanket and basket with growing rage, you tilted your chin to the sky and shouted, "I get it! Ha ha! Very funny, Jupiter!"

Several mortals also running for cover in the park gave you strange looks that you discarded. Whatever, fine, Jason and his dad could go sit and spin for all you cared. A little voice in your head reminded you that you did care, that it hurt and that your cheeks weren't wet with only precipitation.

You wiped them with the picnic blanket and when you were done, let it drag behind you in the mud. God, did it have to rain this hard? Thunder boomed in the distance, a reminder of sky daddy's chuckles at your state.

The bus ride home to near Camp Half Blood was barely acknowledged. Walking the half mile from the stop was, the rain blinding you even with the dirty fabric of picnic blanket draped over your head. Entering the border, the weather receded to dark clouds and you dropped your belongings, shaking yourself like a wet dog. Peleus sniffed you and grunted when the droplets hit his face, pulling away and re-tucking his head in the truck of Thalia's tree.

You grabbed your things and marched to the cabins with a frown that couldn't be turned upside down. Right as you passed Cabin 1, a flurry of orange and blonde flew out the door and knocked you on your butt.

Your boyfriend landed on his as well, his eyes flashing with joy that was cut short by realization as he sees you.

"Y/n! I was just about to leave-"

He was on his feet before you, a calloused hand in your face which you pushed away roughly.

"Yeah? Two and a half fricking hours late?"

Jason winced. "I didn't mean- I was sketching a stat-"

You stood up with a red face. "No, no! I get it! You're a busy guy, Jason. You can't be bothered to show up to a picnic you planned because you're so busy!"

A few campers had come to the doors of their cabins to check out the commotion and at Cabin 7, Kayla muttered "Damn."

"I'm sorry, I lost-"

"Lost track of time?" You finished for him. His hands halted halfway up to hold your face, his guilt was obvious and maybe later you'd feel bad for yelling so publicly but Jason had forgotten you one too many times. "Do you know what a clock is, Jason? It tells time. Maybe buy one and you won't loose track of it! Or-! Or even better, Jason, buy an alarm clock! That's a clock that lets you know when you have to do something, like go on a date with your girlfriend!"

You shook with rage for a moment, probably looking ridiculous dripping wet with mud splattered on your legs and shoes and washed away mascara. Nobody said anything for a moment, not even the other kids watching with interest. You met his sad eyes and all the fight left you. Disappointment replaced anger and you sighed, looking away.

"I know that your work is important to you, Jason. I won't give you an ultimatum and that's mainly because I know... you wouldn't choose me. I just wish-I just wish you would try to care about me half as much as you care about that. That's all."

Without another look at your devastated boyfriend, you dragged yourself and your dirty belongings away and trudged to your cabin. Nobody stopped you but one of your siblings did help you out of your dirty shoes at the door and handed you a towel with a hand on your back steering you to the showers.

You brought your hands to your head to detangle your hair and caught a whiff of tangy fruit. You paused and examined your muddy fingers that reeked of tangerines and knew you'd never be able to eat another one without a reminder of today. You practically threw your hands in the sink as you gave them a deep scrubbing.

Jason stood outside for a moment, looking only at the spot you'd been just seconds before. Self-hate bubbled up in his lungs and he couldn't breathe, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"I'm sorry.." He murmured and looked up to see the other campers quickly evade his gaze and duck away. He turned and stalked off into his cabin again, his eyes quickly filling as his brain clouded with shame.

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blegh-110 · 1 year

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Have I found you, flightless bird? (3/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Crybaby!Reader

Summary: You have very mixed feelings on your first official day with Tangerine.

Chapter Warnings: Panic attack, bad/mean parents, a bit of stockholm syndrome

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: This is not edited, enjoy and thank you again for being patient with me.

You have never felt better.

For the first time ever, your bed doesn’t feel like a hundred giant rocks under a blanket, making every inch of your back ache. You don’t know if it’s you being so tired and out of it, but your mattress feels like an actual mattress. And the pillow under your head is not flat but soft and puffy, so that it actually supports your head. You can’t tell if you’re dreaming or not, hoping that you are, you roll over and breathe in relief when you don’t fall off the bed. And the comforter has warmth wrapping all around you.

This has to be a dream. You think in your sleepy state. Your mattress is nowhere near the clouds you’re sleeping on. But with a heavy sigh, you know you have to fully wake up eventually and leave this wonderful feeling. Before opening your eyes, you stretch and immediately wish you didn’t.

You feel pain all over your body, especially your legs. They feel sore, like you had just run a mile the day before. You try to think what could have caused them to feel this way, then you remember and your eyes shoot open.

Tangerine.

It all came back, the night before, and all your sleepiness and fatigue is quickly replaced with fear and adrenaline. You throw the covers off of you and your confusion and fear increases when you realize you aren’t in your apartment. Instead, you’re in a room that is thrice the size of it with a dusty pink theme. The king-sized bed is placed in the middle of the room, and on the left side of it is a vanity with a vase filled with peonies. On the left corner of the room, next to the vanity, are two light pink, vintage-looking couches. On the right side of the room was a bookshelf wall, with most of the space empty. Your heart picks up and it feels like it’s about to explode out of your chest from how hard it’s thumping.

You feel sick to your stomach and have the urge to throw up again, but you manage to keep quiet and slowly walk towards the door of the bedroom. When you attempt to open the door, the knob doesn’t turn all the way. The door is locked. But your hope doesn’t falter yet when you turn around and see two giant windows. Your feet quickly guide you to the first one next to the couches, and with all your strength, you try to push it open but it doesn’t budge. And you have a dreadful feeling that the next one won’t either, and you are correct. The urge to cry out loud consumes you, but then you see the bathroom. Please, God, let there be an open window. But there is no such luck as you’re trying to open the window next to the bathtub.

You’re locked in the room.

The panic fully sets in and you let out a shuddering breath that you try to keep down. But that doesn’t stop your tears from falling and your heart racing and your body going numb. The emotions you felt last night were quickly coming back, but this time you didn’t have anywhere to run. You could try to hide, but your captor would know that you were somewhere in the bedroom and would eventually find you.

You suddenly feel like you can’t breathe and your legs weaken by the second, you slowly sit on the floor and try to control your breathing but nothing works to calm yourself down.

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how long you’ve sat on the bathroom floor. And your body feels incapable of any movement. Every single bad emotion is swirling inside your chest; fear, confusion, helplessness, claustrophobia, dizziness. It gets to the point where you can’t focus on anything and your mind floats outside your body. Which means you don’t hear the opening of the bedroom door nor the footsteps leading to the bathroom.

Tangerine had wanted to be there with you when you first woke up, but some work related stuff came up where he and Lemon had to leave as soon as possible. To say Tangerine was pissed would be an understatement, he was livid and wanted to murder whoever their target was immediately. The two would usually plan their assassinations at least a day or two before executing them, but with you finally being in his life, he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Especially on your first day with him.

He had planned an outline for the day. He would make you breakfast, a big one. With pancakes, fresh fruit, sunny side up eggs, coffee, anything you want plus him. Then he wanted to give you a tour of the house, especially of the garden where all your favorite flowers grew. Along with some fruit trees and a gazebo. Next, he would take you to the library where all your favorite books were, some being first edition classics and others being newer novels. Tangerine had hoped by this time, it would be lunch and the two of you would eat a nice meal in the garden. And the rest of the day would be spent with just each other.

Tangerine knew he was being a bit naive about the whole situation, he was aware that you weren’t going to jump in his arms and accept this life. You might’ve given up and surrendered yourself to him the night before, but you put up a good fight and he was expecting some more out of you in the weeks coming.

He only hopes you will see how much of a better life he can give you, and how much you deserve to be treated.

When he first unlocks the bedroom door, he expects you to be peacefully sleeping on your new bed, wrapped up in your comforter. Instead, he sees an empty spot and the blanket is on the ground. His excitement is gone in an instant and he goes searching for you. Fortunately it doesn’t take long, but his heart breaks when he sees you on the floor of the bathroom with your head in your hands and hears your harsh breathing.

Tangerine kneels down next to you and gently places his hand on your shoulder so as to not startle you, but it doesn’t work.

You feel something touch you and quickly look at the source.

Tangerine’s bloody face is the first thing you see.

The sight of him alone frightens you, but to see blood splatter all over his face and his gentle touch on you disturbs you.

“No, no, love, please calm down!” Tangerine says when you scramble away from him and start screaming. He comes closer to you, grabbing your leg and trying to pull you closer to him. This causes you to start screaming for help so loud that your throat burns, it also doesn’t help your light headedness.

You begin kicking your legs as hard as you can and clawing at his face once he pulls you to him, and you do manage to scratch his face. Which makes you proud for a second, but you're once again horrified when you realize your action towards the man. Even more so when he stops what he’s doing and his deadly eyes stare into yours, and paired with the blood, you think you’re about to become on of murder victims. This gives you the chance to spot the scratch you caused, which wasn’t much, you didn’t even pierce his skin. But the anger Tangerine feels shows how much it affects him, especially on his face.

You don’t realize how much you're shaking, but Tangerine does and his anger slowly starts going away. Although his emotions are itching to be released, he understands that this shift and change in your life is sudden. And that you just need to adjust to it. But that doesn’t mean he can’t still be annoyed with what you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” He grabs your upper arms and, with ease, lifts you up off of the ground. When he releases you, your knees buckle and you feel yourself about to fall down, but he quickly catches you and you instinctively grab onto his shoulders. You get a sense of deja vu of the night before, and he’s once again carrying you with one arm under your back and the other under your knees.

Your cheeks are wet and stained with your tears, your throat hurts, and your breathing hasn’t slowed down in the slightest. To prevent Tangerine from being even more angrier with you, you try to stop crying, but that results in harsh hiccups that hurt your throat even more. Which Tangerine notices, and his heart cracks even more.

After that time he watched you talk to your parents, he promised himself he would never make you feel that way or make you hold yourself together like your parents did. He’ll make you realize that as well.

You watch Tangerine with careful eyes as he grabs a tissue from the box next to you and you know what he’s about to do.

“Let’s take some deep breaths okay, love?” He whispers.

You want to say no, but your hiccups are starting to hurt your chest, and you really do need to calm down before you pass out. Hesitantly, you nod your head.

“Okay. Close your eyes for me, please. Thank you.”

You feel the tissue press onto your face and gently dab your skin, as well as Tangerine’s light hold on the very tip of your chin that makes you jump.

“Now, take a deep breath for a few seconds and hold it.”

You do as he says, believing it’s not going to work, especially with how close he is to you. All he’s doing is increasing the fear that he’ll do something horrible to you, but you do as he says to at least try to settle down and to make him believe you won’t do anything. Once you’re okay, you’ll make your move.

“Now release it for another few seconds and hold it.”

You’re angry after about five minutes of these breathing exercises, angry because he actually managed to make you feel better. Although there are countless reasons to hate him, this is the first situation where you can’t. You want to say you would rather pass out than have him help you through your panic attack, but the feeling that you were about to die overrides it. The feeling of your lungs squeezing together terrifies you.

“Better?” Tangerine asks, and it physically and mentally hurts to nod your head because it acknowledges the fact that he was the one to make you that way.

“Now what do we say?” The anger and hatred boils inside you, as well as the fear that he might hurt you if you don’t answer him the way he wants.

“Thank you.” You whisper, trying to keep your frustrated tears from falling. You feel your self-respect and ego going down the drain, even though you don’t want it to and you don’t mean any of the words you're saying.

Tangerine smiles at you before fondly pinching your chin and bringing his lips gently to your forehead. He finds your angry little face adorable and wants to squish your cheeks together. But you might actually attempt to murder him if he does that. He’s aware of what he’s doing and the effect it has on you, but he needs you to know that no disrespect is tolerated when he’s taking care of you from now on. You’ll come around to thank him, he thinks. For now, he’ll admire your pout in secret.

He picks you up and brings you back to the room, placing you down on the bed so you’re sitting. Every time Tangerine touches you, he leaves your skin burning in a way where you want to scrub the area raw of any trace of him.

“You sit here pretty for me and I’m going to get you some clothes, okay?” Tangerine turns away before going into the closet. While he is going through the racks trying to pick something you’ll be comfortable in, you eye the door and the closet. You slowly stand up, thankful that the bed doesn’t squeak, and peek inside the closet where you find him staring intensely at the clothes. Then you begin your second escape as you tiptoe towards the bedroom door, listening carefully for his heavy footsteps but they never come. And once out, you’re running down the hallway and down the stairs, your heart picking up once again. You’re sure that if captures you this time, he’ll definitely lose it and won’t be nice to you.

When you’re on the first floor, the first thing you spot is the front door and you run to it. The thought that you might actually leave almost makes you laugh with disbelief and excitement. But it leaves as quick as it comes when you see the keyhole and when the door knob doesn’t turn all the way. You quickly convince yourself that you don’t need one and that it’s there for decoration, but you start to fill with dread when you continue to twist and turn the knob and it still doesn’t open. Out of frustration, you slam your fist against the door and immediately want to slam your head on it when you realize the noise you just made.

Without thinking you run into a different room and don’t even look at it all the way, your eyes are only searching for a door that goes outside. You soon become lost after going through multiple doors throughout the house and you wonder if Tangerine notices you’re gone. The amount of rooms the downstairs floor has is ridiculous and you curse him as you’re going through each one, still not paying attention to the contents of them.

While you’re panicking downstairs, Tangerine emerges from the closet with a navy cable knit sweater, a black skirt, and some socks in his hands. And when he looks at the bed, ready to your pretty face, you're gone once again and the door is wide open. He forgot to close the door when he first came in, which makes him angry at himself. But also at you for attempting something like this after you scratched him.

He was willing to forgive your previous actions, and he hoped that that would set you straight, but apparently it hasn’t. Tangerine wants to remain calm, but the thought of you trying to get out of the house sets him off and he’s throwing your clothes on the bed and walking out of your room. But he’s not quick with his search for you like before, the first time caught him off guard. But then he’s reminded of all the precautions he took so you wouldn’t escape.

Tangerine doesn’t know how long you had been gone while he was searching for clothes for you to wear, but he’s feeling a little playful with his anger and decides to give you a few more minutes to run and hide. Then he’ll come get you.

Just as you’re about to risk him hearing you and break a window, you go through another room and spot a door that looks like it’s to the backyard. You feel in your gut that it’s not going to open, but you still try.

You twist the knob and it goes all the way around. Your heart jumps with joy and your stomach burns with exhilaration.

You push the door open and are greeted with the most beautiful backyard garden you have ever seen. Different types of flowers everywhere, the grass and shrubs the perfect shade of green, a fountain with birds bathing in it. You don’t have the time to stare wide-eyed for too long when you suddenly hear a loud bark that scares you. When you look down, you see a puppy tilting its head at you.

Oh, fuck.

It starts barking again and you pray that Tangerine doesn’t hear the dog, but he does. And he takes his time walking down the stairs. He wants to drag out your fear for as long as possible so it gets drilled into your head that no matter how much time you have to run, he will always find you.

You run through the garden trying to find a spot to hide or a gate that leads to the fields, all while hoping that the dog isn’t following you. When you realize the walls of the garden are hedges, you try to push aside the branches and leaves, but are met with stone walls. And your hope is once again gone and replaced with absolute despair, like there is a hole in your stomach that is swallowing every emotion and organ that leaves you feeling drained.

Then you hear the door to the house open followed by Tangerine’s accent. Your eyes go to the rose bushes next to you, your last resort, and you crouch down behind it. It seems as though that hole only left your beating heart, it’s the only thing you can feel as it bangs against your chest.

“Oh, hello, Peachie. Happen to see a strange girl walking around?” He says this in a playful yet sinister tone, loudly. He knows you’re still here and wants you to know that.

Then it’s silent for a while, and although you know in your gut that he’s most likely sneaking around trying to find you, you try to convince yourself Tangerine went back inside the house. And you don’t notice that he is only a few meters behind you, you don’t feel his presence until you’re suddenly turned around by rough hands on your shoulders.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this.” Tangerine roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them together in a pout, it pains him that he’s not doing this affectionately, but in a setting-my-foot-down kind of way. You freeze and stare into his eyes, the angry look he gave you before is nothing compared to the one he’s giving you now. It makes you want to apologize and say you’ll do anything if it means he won’t hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper through your puckered lips. Tangerine almost immediately caves into your fearful face and welled-up eyes, but he keeps his composure.

“Oh, I’m sure you are darling. Get up.” He stands you up, wrapping a tight hand around your arm and drags you back into the house with Peach following you both. You look behind you and glare at the dog, putting all the blame on her barking. Tangerine leads you up the stairs back into your very pink room.

“Wash up and get dressed, please, and come back down for some breakfast. I believe you’re pretty hungry after running around all morning.” He says this with an annoyed tone.

“There are toiletries in the bathroom, your clothes are on the bed. Hopefully I will have finished making breakfast by the time you are done. Take your time getting ready, I’ll be waiting downstairs.” He finishes then leaves, closing the door behind him. Because of his accent and his ability to talk extremely fast, you hardly understand what he says. But based on the few words you were able to make out, you think you’ll need to use the shower and go back downstairs for some food.

You decide to listen to Tangerine and take your time in the shower, just buying some more time for yourself, and your mind begins to wander with many thoughts and questions. All at once, leaving you with a small headache. It doesn’t help that you are starving, the last thing you remember eating were some snacks from the train, not even a full meal. Right then your stomach growls and you only hope that whatever Tangerine is making, it’ll be good.

You get out of the shower and feel a little better, clean and refreshed physically. Your eyes widen when you look at the counter, it was filled with the best skin care products and makeup. Different facial cleaners, moisturizers, exfoliators, masks, and other skin tools. The only product you regularly used was a cleanser, a cheap one that didn’t even feel like it did anything.

As much as the products and their pretty packaging dazzled you (only for a second), you didn’t want to give into this life that Tangerine is forcing you in. So you only used the cleanser. And maybe some moisturizer, which really soothed your skin once you spread it on your face.

You were about to leave the bathroom and change, but your curiosity got the best of you and you started looking at all the makeup products. And damn, you wish you could use all the blushes and eyeshadows, but your pride overpowers anything at the moment. Except your want for food.

The hunger you feel is the type where your stomach quite literally feels empty, and every time it growls, it’s extremely loud and it hurts. Sighing, you put the mascara down and walk into the room. Despite how you feel, you do admit that the bedroom is very cute. You love the color pink and anything pastel. For a while, you had to keep that to yourself because your parents believed those were childish colors. After the age of 12, they criticized you for wanting baby blue dresses with little daisies and stuffed animals, and pretty much anything that was deemed immature.

You remember the fateful day when you turned 14, they “surprised” you by cleaning out your room of anything childlike. You were horrified when you came back from school and saw a dark purple comforter instead of your floral pink one, no stuffed animals, beige walls, and all of your posters taken down. Your white drawers and bed frame were replaced with dark wood. Making the entire room look like it belonged to a middle aged woman. She told you it was time to start growing up and becoming more mature for your age.

Your mother also took you shopping in the women's section. As she looked through the racks and picked out “mature” pieces of clothing, which consisted of casual business wear, you were eyeing a cherry printed top in the juniors section and sneaking off to smell fruity lip gloss.

When you see the outfit Tangerine had picked out earlier, you grumble at how it was your style, even more so when you put it on and it looked cute. You couldn’t remember the last time you wore a flowey skirt, you couldn’t remember the last time you even felt pretty. But you feel creeped out when you see your comforter, the same one you have in your apartment.

By the time you’re completely done getting ready, you force yourself to go downstairs, taking your time with each step. It takes a while, but you manage to find the kitchen after roaming the halls and different rooms. Once you enter the kitchen and look at the large dinner table, your mouth begins watering.

On the table are chocolate chip pancakes with powdered sugar, croissants, cut up fruit, tea and coffee with dainty cups, oatmeal, bacon, eggs, and different juices. The smell of breakfast filling your nose

“Sit.” He demands as soon as he sees you. You think you’ve done enough rebelling for now and listen without a second thought. You sit quietly in your seat, watching as he brings another plate of pancakes over.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

You don’t know what to say. Truthfully, yes you did. The best rest you have gotten in a long while, but the current circumstances and the events that lead you there have you questioning your answer. Despite that, you decide to answer honestly.

“Yes, I did.” You whisper and his only response is a hum as he sits down next to you.

“That’s good,” Tangerine says and begins piling food onto a plate. As much as you want to eat, you don’t know if you need to ask for permission or if you have to wait for him to finish eating first. Just as you're about to ask for a plate, Tangerine places the one he was holding in front of you and starts cutting up your pancakes.

You almost groan out loud when you take your first bite, but a hand on your chin that makes your head turn stops you, not even letting you swallow your mouthful of food.

“If you ever pull shit like that again, I’ll have you chained outside for a week. Got it?” Tangerine interrupts you with a sudden threat, though his words don’t align with his true feelings. As angry as he is, he just needs to scare and threaten you to make you behave. He has no intention of punishing you that badly, you’re too precious to him. Despite this, your frightened face does satisfy him and he can’t help himself when he leans over and kisses your cheek. You're too cute in your little outfit, damp hair, and stuffed cheeks.

“Okay.” You nod your head fast.

“And don’t talk with your mouth full, love. Coffee?”

You blacked out during breakfast after what Tangerine said, not literally, but the fear he brought out of you made your mind foggy. All you remember is Tangerine doting on you, kissing your face and smoothing down your hair, feeding you, telling you how pretty you look. Which made your face hot with embarrassment with all the attention he was giving you. It’s hard to admit, but you liked it, just a little.

It amazed you how he made you fear for your life one minute, then the next you tried your hardest not to react when he rubbed his hand up and down your back and played with ear lobe. You really almost forgot about trying to escape that morning and the fact that he abducted you because the slightest attention he gave you turned your insides into mush. But it lingered in the back of your mind as you chastised yourself for giving into his affection.

After a very long (but delicious) breakfast, Tangerine walks you to the couch where he explains he wants to give you a proper tour of the garden. Then he shows you a pair of shoes you’ve been wanting since your parents took them away.

The shiniest pair of Mary Janes with a thick, short heel.

The only pair of shoes you’ve owned in the last couple of years were sneakers, which weren’t bad, but you longed for something with a bit more femininity.

“I take it that you like them?” Tangerine asks, feeling immensely proud of himself when he sees your head nod and wide eyes. He kneels down in front of you, already holding some frilly socks. After putting on the socks, you tense when he gently holds your calf and slides the shoe on. Unlike only an hour ago, his feather-like touch tingles and goes straight to your stomach, butterflies fluttering.

Tangerine does this slowly, wanting to take extra care of you on this first day. He does your other foot and you’re trying not to make it obvious that you’re having trouble breathing. Everything about his position and touch was intimate, and the lack of that in your life made you react easily.

Before Tangerine pulls away, he notices your bruised knees once again, the blue skin and scrapes tugging at his heart. He holds your calf with both hands now and brings his lips down, very lightly kissing the skin on different places. His lips go lower with each kiss, now at your shin and rubbing your legs.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for this.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper. Simultaneously wanting him to get away from you purely because you’re not used to someone being this close, and wanting him to keep going. Your eyes stay on Tangerine as he stands up and extends his hand out, you can’t look away from him when you take it and stand up.

“It’s really not, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He brings your hand up and kisses the back of it, all while maintaining eye contact. You nod your head in a trance, admiring his beauty and completely forgetting the events of the morning, which surprises Tangerine. He didn’t think you’d give in so easily, most likely because you’ve never been treated this way.

Poor girl, he thinks, then leads you outside, planning on taking advantage of your state of mind and showing you the wonderful things he has for you.

And it truly was beautiful once you got a good, proper look of the garden. You’d always had a love for flowers and dreamed of having a nice, big garden. This was something Tangerine figured out after sneaking into your home a second time and finding a pretty lilac journal he had somehow missed the first time. That’s where he really got a look into your wishes and wants, but you didn’t need to know that. For those months watching you from afar, one of the things he was working on was the garden and installing fountains and buying outside furniture.

You couldn’t help yourself as you lightly touched the peonies and carnations, their brightness in full bloom and their scent lifting your spirits. At least if you become overwhelmed and frightened of the man you have a safe haven.

You continue wandering around and stumble upon a gazebo across a small river, and you can’t decide what to focus on. The gazebo is white with a fence around it, and inside is a table and two chairs, but surrounding the gazebo is a multitude of different flowers. And around it is a small moat where you spot ducks and their bright yellow babies. It’s a lot to take in, the beauty of the scene in front of you taking your breath away. Then you feel a presence behind you and a chin on your shoulder.

“I figured we can eat our meals here, nice isn’t it?” You only nod, smiling as you continue watching the ducks and feel the sun on your skin with a light breeze. This moment feels so perfect.

–

You and Tangerine spent the entire day out in the gardens, but you made sure to keep a significant distance between the two of you. You didn’t want to be reminded that the reason you were even here was because of Tangerine, so you tried to remain blissfully ignorant and continued exploring.

Tangerine didn’t mind too much though, even though you were far from him, he knew you were enjoying your time in the sun and running around in your little skirt. He just hoped you didn’t become too excited and trip over yourself, his clumsy girl. But at the same time, he hoped you did just so he could touch you again and feel the softness of your skin beneath his lips. Another thing he knew was that you enjoyed his gentle touch, and he couldn’t wait until another moment turned up when he could do it all over again just to see you struggle to keep your composure.

Tangerine smiles as you bend down on your knees to pluck a flower, but it goes away when he sees you wince. He also notices that the ground you're on is quite mushy and muddy, so your shoes sink into the ground and your skirt brushes against it. You take notice of this as well and freeze, waiting for the man to yank you up and toss you in a dirty basement.

You hear footsteps coming your way and distract yourself with the dandelion for as long as you can. Tangerine stops behind you and kneels down behind you.

“That’s a very pretty flower you’re holding there, but I think it’s time we go back inside, don’t you think so?” He says with a soft voice, almost a whisper that calms you down just a smidge. You don’t dare to look at him when you nod, feeling embarrassed at the amount of time he has seen you with tears in your eyes, but Tangerine adores it.

“C’mon then, we’ll change your clothes and get you some more food.” Tangerine puts his hands under your elbows where they’re bent and lifts you to stand you up.

Before going back inside, Tangerine sits you on a chair on the patio and takes off your shoes. Once again taking his time but you’re still fearful of the consequences of getting your new shoes all dirty, as well as the hem of your skirt.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. Tangerine looks up at you and his heart swells at your pout and teary waterline. You really are a sensitive little thing.

“No worries, darling. Just had a little too much fun running around, huh?” He strokes your chin with an adoring smile that makes you look away.

“But I got them dirty,” you gesture towards the Mary Janes Tangerine he’s holding, “got them all gross and my skirt too.”

You can’t help but profusely worry, your mind subconsciously going back to your parents and your childhood.

There was a time your mother had gifted you a very expensive blouse, not your style as it was just a plain white button up, but you still thanked her very much for it. You were never one to be ungrateful.

You wore it to your sixteenth birthday party, which was supposed to be for you, but it seemed to be for your parents when you saw many of their own friends instead of yours. And you had gotten your blouse dirty by accidentally splattering spaghetti sauce on it, too which your mother became furious. She dragged you up to your room, calling you all sorts of names that still stick to your mind.

Thoughtless, negligent, foolish. Why can’t you be more mature like the other kids down there?

You cried as she dug through your closet and drawers, “I’m sorry, it was an accident, I promise.”

She ignored you and finally found a good enough outfit for you.

“Change into this and come back down, it’s time you told your guests a thank you for coming.” Then she left you alone while you were still in tears. You also stayed away from pasta and anything saucy, afraid of your mother’s anger. These feelings would come back again if your grades weren’t up to your fathers standards.

And the worst part was that they never apologized for the way they treated you, so from a young age you thought it was normal for them to treat you that way. And any mistake you made, no matter if it was big or small, made you apologize excessively.

This treatment from your parents also made you feel small. You believed them when they called you every word that meant lazy or childish or small minded, which made you very insecure and built up your guilty conscience.

When you return back inside the house, Peach greets you. You completely forgot about the puppy, your anger and annoyance from the morning going away when you get a good look at her sweet face and wagging tail. You coo at her and Tangerine can’t help but smile at the interaction, but he needs to get you cleaned up.

“Alright come on now.” He places his hand on your lower back and guides you up the stairs.

Once in your room, Tangerine sits you on the bed and goes into your closet, your position giving you deja vu. Reminding you of the morning's events and you suddenly remember your position within the house. And you're horrified that you’ve gone almost the entire day forgetting about last night and how dangerous Tangerine is.

When he emerges back from the closet and sees your frozen and stiff state, his mood drops but he doesn’t let it show. He knew you would come down from your carefree state at some point but he was still upset about it. He liked seeing you so happy in the garden.

After letting you get dressed and a very quiet and awkward early dinner, Tangerine leads you to a different room within the house that makes your mouth drop. A library room with forest green book shelves and a giant couch in front of a large window that faces the garden. The room is beautiful, but what makes your heart soar with happiness is the empty bookshelf wall that has a ladder attached to it. You’ve always wanted one.

“Do you like it? I know you like this color green but I wasn’t so sure about it.” You don’t answer him, heading towards the velvet couch and imagining yourself getting lost in a novel while drinking some tea. You once again couldn’t deny how wonderful this was, and you also curse Tangerine in your head for somehow knowing your style so well.

“I really love it, Tangerine.” You whisper. Tangerine freezes hearing his name from your lips, he just loves the way your voice says his name so softly.

“Well, I’m glad, it’s obviously empty at the moment, but I figured we could get you some when the time is right.”

When you trust I trust you enough to not run off.

You nod your head, you know what he means and you try not to let it ruin your mood. You distract yourself by going to a small section of the room that already has a few books. When looking through them, you are horrified to see that you’ve read all of them already. Although you have a feeling you might know the answer, you turn to him with a frightened face.

“Did you go through my apartment?”

“It was the only way I could find out about you.”

The level of confusion and shock leaves you speechless. Which Tangerine catches onto and he himself realizes his words but doesn’t say anything else. Leaving the both of you in yet another awkward silence that makes you want to disappear.

“Well,” Tangerine starts, rubbing his hands together and looking around the room, avoiding your stare, “I have got some work to finish. I’ll be in my office just a few doors down. Would you like to stay here?”

You quickly nod your head, desperately wanting some time alone. Tangerine nods his head as well, and before leaving, he grabs a book from the shelf and hands it over to you. One you haven't read.

“I saw you didn’t have that one in the series yet, I also got you the rest of them” And he points to the remaining two books.

You can only stare at the cover and wonder what else he saw in your apartment. You start to think that he pitied you and that’s why he is doing all this, that he saw your life was so sad and thought it would be best to give your life a makeover. And you're angry now, furious even, again. What gives this man the right to take away your life and give you one he thinks is better? Sure, before meeting him you wished for a better everything. But you wanted to get it all on your own terms, with your own money and hard work. Not by force.

Unfortunately, when you’re feeling overwhelmingly emotional, whether you are sad or happy or mad, like right now, all your body can do is cry. The first teardrop falls and you quickly wipe it away, you don’t want Tangerine to see you like this and comfort you. The last thing you want is for him to be close to you.

When you look up, he’s no longer in the library. And the double wooden doors are closed. You get up from the couch and try to open them, but unsurprisingly, they’re locked. More tears leak out of your eyes and you begin knocking on the door softly.

“Tangerine, can I come out now? Please?” You sniffle.

Each time there is no answer, your knocks become harder and louder, making your knuckles hurt. Which then turns to you aggressively rattling the doorknob and tearfully screaming.

“Let me out you fuckin’ psycho! Let me out!” You yell and start pounding your fists on the doors which leave your hand throbbing. There is no answer and you feel the defeat in your bones.

“Please let me out, Tangerine. Don’t lock me in here, please open the door, I’m sorry.” You gasp through your hiccups and lay down on the floor, too tired to walk back to the couch.

Meanwhile, Tangerine sits in his office, willing himself not to unlock the doors and hold you back in his arms, squeezing you until you can hardly breathe. He takes a deep breath and goes back to the work in front of him when your noises grow quieter then come to a complete stop. He makes a promise to himself to make it up to you later, he looks at his calendar and sees your birthday is coming up. Right then he promises to make this birthday the best one you’ve ever had.

---

I really appreciate comments on what you guys liked or didn’t like, just please be nice!! Any criticism is good or what your favorite part was. They really push me to write more!! :)

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train imagine

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artemisthewh0re · 1 year

Note

WE NEED A LONGER VERSION OF TANGERINE GETTING SUCKED OFF IN THE TRAIN BATHROOM!!

possibly followed by tangerine being a soft dom whilst roughly fucking you. GOD THIS JUST SOUNDS AMAZING

black fem reader ofc !!

HOOKUP: The Extended Version

Tangerine x Chubby Black Reader

A/N: Ngl I had to Google what soft dom was. I hope I did okay!

Warnings: Public sex, unprotected sex with a one night stand, a little exhibitionism, interrupted sex, badly written British accents (sorry Brits I'm a dumb American)

Stifled grunts and heavy breaths are all you can hear between the legs of the man before you. All you remember are the lust-filled kisses that led you here and the quick utterance of the words "Name's Tangerine by the way," being whispered into your ear as he led you to the train bathroom.

Your plush, cherry red lips grip the tip of Tangerine's blushing cock. Red streak marks cover his shaft as you bob your head up and down. Despite both hands working down his shaft, he’s still too big for you please every inch of him. This thought is both slightly worrying and incredibly attractive, leaving your aching pussy dreaming about his length inside you. One hand moves down to his balls to gently massage them as the other puts in double the work to keep Tangerine satisfied.

"Fuckin' hell love," Tangerine moans as he uses your dreads to steer your head. ”Just like that.”

His long shaft reaches the deepest part of your throat causing you to gag. Tears prick at your eyes as he continues to face fuck you, allowing obscene noises to escape your lips. Your once perfect lipstick is no doubt completely ruined by the spit smeared on your face. Still the ecstasy of the moment distracts you from any worries, even as the train comes to a stop at Nagoya station.

Shadows of people move underneath the door as they exit the train. You both stop for a moment, too afraid that any sudden noises could alert someone to your compromising position. Tangerine almost looks angelic in the low light of the bathroom. His eyes are half-lidded and his breath is ragged. Sweat beads on his exposed chest and his hair is in disarray. Your attraction to him grows in the moment and you dip your head back between his legs, determined to give him the best orgasm of his life.

The strong thighs on either side of your head tense up in response to your tongue grazing his balls. You tentatively suck them, leaving more red smears in your wake. Tangerine’s moans are intoxicating as the train leaves the station. You doubted he’d ever made such noises with any of his other hookups. His eyes look like he’s been transported to another realm of bliss.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me!” His exclamation was only a muffled whisper, but it was enough to make you work even harder.

Saliva coats his length; long strings of it fly across your face when he pulls out of your mouth. Tangerine’s forehead beads with sweat as he jerkily finishes on your lips. His body relaxes and his head lulls to the side in relief. Your cunt aches uncomfortably as you wait for him to recover. Your eyes notice more about Tangerine’s features now that you're looking at him clearly. With his coat discarded you can see the tattoos on his forearm and the St. Christopher necklace hanging low into his shirt.

“What’cha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Tangerine asks after noticing your gaze.

“Nothing, just admiring you,” you say coyly, getting up off the floor and straddling Tangerine.

His heartbeat is fast under your touch almost like his heart was about to explode from his chest. Despite Tangerine’s obvious nervousness his suave demeanor never ceases.

“If anyone should be admired it should be you darlin’.” He lets out a silenced grunt as you slide down onto his still erect cock. “You are unbelievably gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush in response to Tangerine’s flattery, but you can barely process it. Tangerine slides his hands beneath your thighs, guiding you up and down his shaft. The feeling sends shivers of satisfaction down your spine. Tangerine's warm breath tickles your throat as he places hasty kisses along it. Your hips roll in desperation for more, more contact, more pleasure. Sounds of slapping skin and subdued moans fill the tight space of the train bathroom. Other passengers have yet to notice the commotion, but the idea that anyone could stumble in and see you riding a stranger only added to your hornyess. Your intensified moans must have given your thoughts away.

“You like that huh? Me fuckin’ you next to everyone,” Tangerine whispers. He juts his hips into you repeatedly causing a deep moan to come from both your mouths. Your slick runs down Tangerine's cock, perfectly lubricating his movements. Tangerine’s fingers rub over the rolls on your hips, tracing every stretch mark delicately. More shadows move underneath the door as the train stops at another station. The murmurs fade away, but another noise replaces it: banging on the bathroom door.

“Tangerine hurry up, we need to get off here!”

A hand clasps over your mouth. “No we don't, we get off at the end of the line!” Tangerine yells back. Tangerine’s other hand guides your hips to continue the pace as he yells to the unknown man behind the door. This whole situation was odd, but also a turn on in some twisted way. A warmth deep inside you builds.

“No, they want to see the kid now!” says the man, now sounding a little more desperate. “Haven’t you checked your messages?”

“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.” Tangerine gives you a wink. “Sorry darlin’ but I’ve gotta cut this short,” he whispers in your ear.

You were expecting Tangerine to take you off his lap, but instead he pushes deeper inside you. Your pussy clenches hard when his tip brushes against the spongy spot inside your vagina. Tangerine’s hand continues to muffle the pornographic moans trying to escape your lips. The warmth in your core boils over, leaving you writhing in pleasure. Your orgasm rushes through your legs down to your toes and back. Shivers tingle your spine and your thighs shake in overstimulation.

“Fuck!” your exclamation is muffled but your sentiment is clear to Tangerine.

“I’d love to stay longer but I’ve got some business to take care of.” Tangerine places a peck on your lips before zipping up his pants. You stand up off his lap and watch as he collects himself. He’s kind of an odd businessman, at least you thought he’s a businessman. His confrontation with his partner leads you to believe otherwise. You're suddenly a little glad this mysterious man is leaving you but also incredibly curious. As the stranger you let fuck your brains out goes to leave the bathroom only one question comes out of your mouth.

“What the fuck kind of a name is Tangerine?”

Taglist:

@hatterripper31

@aiyaaayei

@vipersecret-blog

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loveshotzz · 1 year

Text

There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

Taglist: @newlips @bimbobaggins69 @munsonology @triplethreat77 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @emotionaldreamer @eddiesprincess86 @micheledawn1975 @lil-graveling @b-irock @munsonmunster

If I missed anyone please let me know!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson slow burn #joseph quinn

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padfootdaredmetoo · 9 months

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Hi lovely! Hope you’re doing well. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you’d be open to do a Tangerine smut where he realizes how much effect he has on reader (like with using pet names and stares and stuff) and he decides to make use of that?? Idek if you like something like that so if you wanna adjust pls feel free! Thanks so much💗

Heyo,

Thank you for this request, it's honestly been on my mind FOREVER. This is a mess with poorly written conflict and plot, but hopefully, I make up for it with spice. Thank you for sending this in and for being so patient with me, love. Enjoy!

Warnings: BIG dom/sub vibes, shooting, guns, violence, bad plot, smutty smut, established relationship, anxiety, mentions of the reader having a rough childhood, fingering, fucking, idk all the spice I guess, very supportive partner? good aftercare, very loving

So far vacation was an excellent idea. Lemon was occupied, flirting with anyone he could manage leaving him the space to fully enjoy the lovely lady pressed to his side. The relentless tropical heat placed you in various soft summer dresses. He watched you sip on your drink, providing commentary on Lemon’s interactions across the bar.

He was only half listening, recognizing that your tone was relaxed and happy. His shoulders relaxed, a feeling he found strange. He and Lemon were out. That life was long gone behind them. The past few months were strange in their predictability and slow pace. There was something else though, in the pit of his stomach. Something told him the other shoe would drop eventually.

There was only so much he could handle before he wanted that dress discarded on their bedroom floor. He pulled you up and enjoyed the flash of electricity that sparked in your eyes. Your red lips curved into a grin and he regretted the decision to go for drinks so far away from the hotel.

You leaned into his side as his arm came around your shoulders, Tan hoped that he wouldn't have to live a day without that feeling.

You both enjoyed the warm air as you walked along the boardwalk. His eyes fluttered around, checking every shadowed corner, every vantage point. He knew that he might relax a little, but some things would stay with him forever.

He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise up before he heard the shot fire. He pulled you behind a closed kiosk. It was quiet except for the ringing in his ears. He looked across the street to an empty warehouse. Pulling you along he made a run for it, putting you in front of him.

Once inside he rounded the corner and heard a familiar voice yell out “GET DOWN.” He was distracted by the immediate rage he felt that Ladybug was here. Causing trouble and now giving him orders. Piece of shit. He didn't realize that you had immediately ducked down behind a large metal barrel instead of following him to the shipping container.

He could see your face in the shadows. Your eyes were wide and your hands were shaking. Another round of gunfire exploded from the entry.

There was a horrible bird call that made Tan smack his forehead despite feeling relieved that Lemon was there. He hoped, for your sake, that Ladybug would be siding with them in whatever mess this was. Then, when it was over, he would kill him slowly for dragging you into this.

His eyes only strayed away from your face to survey the space around you. That barrel was going to give away eventually and he needed to tell you to run across when they reloaded. Stuff like this never needed to be spoken with Lemon, but you had clearly never been in a spot like this.

Using his hands he tried to explain what to do. You mimed it back to him the best you could and he gave you a thumbs up. He held his hand up telling you to stay in place as the bullets cut through the space between the two of you. Your arms covered your head but thankfully you were tough enough to keep your eyes on him, focused on the goal.

The fire stopped and he took a breath motioning you to run across. He stepped out and provided cover. He could hear Lemon somewhere on the rafters also picking off the enemy. He could tell that Lemon had the advantage and he knew it would be over soon. He caught you in his arms and held you close. He guided you down to a crouched position. His hands ran across your body looking for the slightest bit of damage.

“Good girl.” He whispered breathlessly. Despite the chaos, he lived for the way your face changed. Your eyes got heavy, and you sucked in a breath. He knew you were in shock, probably not in your right mind, but he put his thumb on your bottom lip. His fingers brushed your neck, feeling your pulse hammering. He should stop, this was not the time or place to be distracted. But his confidence in his brother’s abilities awarded the darker parts of him a few more moments with you like this.

“You did so good for me.” His voice was thick with intention he was consumed by the way you went under for him. Being shot at in a foreign place tucked behind a storage bin, you clearly had too much faith in him. His other hand slid up the inside of your leg, just high enough to brush across the wetness that he wanted so badly. You closed your eyes and he heard Lemon’s victory cry. Reluctantly he helped you stand up.

“Finish this later” He mumbled righting himself. He hated himself for doing it, for enjoying it, when he should have been protecting you.

Ladybug told them a long-winded story about the mission he was on as he drove the large SUV away from the warehouse now consumed with flames. Tan knew that he brought those idiots here to where they were because Ladybug knew they would help him. Stupid fucking ididot.

“I’m sorry where are my manners -” Ladybug's eyes landed on you from the rearview mirror and Tan gave him a look. Apparently, it did its intended job as Ladybug gave him a respectful nod and made no reference to you for the rest of the drive.

The night became longer and longer. They packed up their hotel room and Ladybug got them onto a private flight. The getaway was smooth, and they were comfortable all things considered. Tan was obsessed with you, unable to understand your behavior. You didn't lean into him, you clung to him. He thought about everything he knew about you as they got carted from plane to plane - then from car to car. He felt he had surely made the top three traumatic events in your life.

He would get you somewhere safe enough to snap out of whatever haze you were in. You would rightfully lose it at him and he would return you home and pay for some extra security on your apartment.

You didn't want to talk, you just drifted in and out of sleep holding onto his arm. He was thankful that Ladybug ignored your existence while still handing Tan blankets and a hoodie for you.

Eventually, they ended up at a safe house they had in Norway. He carried you into the cabin, noting that he would need to get you some new clothes tomorrow. The place was freezing having been abandoned.

Tan sat you on the edge of the bed and stepped back out into the hallway to see what Lemon needed from him. Without looking up from the laptop on the center island of the kitchen, Lemon just pointed back to the bedroom. Tan was relieved, and let Lemon do the setup.

Unsure of how to start the conversation he shut the door and sat on the bed next to you. You tucked your knees to your chest and wrapped the many blankets around yourself.

“So, well. Erm - bit of a mess back there huh?” He hated himself even more for his inability to do the right thing.

“That was a lot. Sorry, I’m not really prepared for this type of stuff. I don't know how to push it down like you guys.” You said with chattering teeth. Your words ran through his mind a few times.

“Your apologizing?” He was suddenly angry, he would never be able to fully understand how badly your parents had messed you up.

“Yeah, I was kinda useless. No gun, but also not a lot of training either - not to mention I sort of just shut down after.” You shrugged. “Sorry, I couldn't bring more to the team.”

He wanted to shake you and shout. Tell you to be angry, show you how. Instead, he remembered the last time he shouted at you and how much pain it caused you.

Instead, he grabbed your shoulders. “Sweetheart. Baby.” He said calmly. “You should be very angry at us.”

He watched you slip away again and he wanted to punch the wall.

“I put you in a lot of danger.” He watched you focus on his lips, eyes heavy. He considered derailing this conversation entirely but knew how important it was that you understood.

“I didn't mind.” You mumbled airly. He let out a sigh, swearing under his breath.

“Baby, you should mind.” He said seriously. “Look -”

“Tan, you kept me safe.” You whispered back. “This is the best thing I have. I don't mind if it’s dangerous.”

“You should - You-”

“Please” You pleaded with him in a wet voice.

“What?” He asked caught off guard.

“Just - not tonight. I want you to -” You couldn’t find the words and nodded at him like he would figure it out. “Just do the thing,” You said finally.

“What thing babygirl?” He gave up and decided he would punish himself for it later. “You tell me what you want, baby.” His tone of voice was enough to send you into the haze.

“I don’t know, just want you.” You said in a small voice and he finally kissed you, eating up the moans that escaped your lips. You were dangerously submissive. Something he wanted to handle delicately but struggled with as you would beg him for more.

He slowly got you out of your clothes, not wanting to push you. You laid back on the bed looking almost pained by experience. He brought his hand out to rest on top of your chest. He felt your chest sink as a large sigh escaped you.

“So beautiful” His words painted a thick blush across your face that ran down your neck.

“Did so good for me today.” He praised you and you looked possessed as you bathed in his words. “Such a good girl.”

It was even more evident how badly neglected you must have been as a child. Anger swelled in his chest before he reminded himself that he might as well shower you in it now. That's what you wanted.

His hand ran slowly down your chest. His hand cupped your breast and he slowly encircled your nipple before giving it a light squeeze. He watched your patience wear thin at his slow pace. He was sure you would snap at him like you usually did. This time was different, fat tears swelled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks.

“Baby what’s wrong.” He asked brushing the tears off your right cheek.

“Want you.” You choked. He didn't think it was humanly possible to be this vulnerable and open. Yet here you were, tied up in knots over how badly you wanted him.

He shushed you soothingly. It was impossible to deny you. He ran his hand down your stomach and finally to the place you needed him.

He gave you praise over every little moan and twitch, watching you fall apart. He got you to climax, thinking this would snap you out of it. Your chest was heaving and the dreadful tears were back.

“Please.” You gasped. He again, could not deny you, even if he wanted to.

“Be a good girl and wait for me.” He said firmly removing his hands to take off his clothes. You lay there on your back, legs still wide apart, for the first time without shame. You always wanted to be under the sheets or hidden. He looked down at the wet mess between your legs, he felt pride in making you happy. This wasn't something he was taking from you, this was something he was giving you.

Once coming to terms with this being about you, his hesitation left him. He knelt between your shaking legs, enjoying the way his fingers slid through your folds with ease. How his two fingers slid inside you with no resistance. Your body was truly desperate for him.

You moaned and contracted tightly around his fingers.

“Good girl, squeezing me so tight.” You let out a ragged breath in response. He wanted to stuff his cock as deep as you could manage, but he was enjoying the way you unraveled for him too much.

He pushed the length of his cock through your folds enjoying the way your hips bucked wildly as the head of his cock brushed your clit.

“Fuck” He breathed. “So good for me baby.”

He circled your entrance again with the tips of his fingers. “Gonna put it right here, baby.” He watched you squirm with impatience but pushed you further. “That what you want?” The pushed his fingers in slowly. “Want my cock right here.”

Your walls contracted around his fingers again as you let out a moan.

“Please.” You begged.

“Please what? Use your words. Be good for me.” He chuckled as you tightened around him again.

“Please let me have your cock, there - please.” The words were a struggle for you as his fingertips rubbed against the sensitive spot.

“Good girl.” He removed his fingers and with much control, he pressed the now slightly purple head of his cock against your entrance. The wet heat was unbearable, he took a deep breath and as slowly as he could manage pushed into the spongey tightness. You choked out a sob that was jarring to him. He stopped and watched you try to buck your hips up. His hands came down on your hips pressing the down into the soft bed.

“No,” He said firmly. Your face twisted up with impatience. You relaxed then he pushed inside slightly further. Your back arched and he stayed at that depth, slowly moving in and out. Even with your hips being still, your hot walls tried to pull him in further.

He had never understood it. Never had any reason to pursue it. If anything, he thought it was weird. When the words fell from your lips with such reckless abandon, all his self-control snapped.

“Dady”

He left no time for embarrassment to worm its way in. He was now consumed with desperation. He pushed into feeling himself stretch you out fully. Your cervix crowned the head of his cock and he retreated, only to press into you hard and fast.

Your mind and body broke down around him. Nothing made sense anymore, no time, no problems. Just you all around him.

You came, coming down around him tight enough to push him out. This only made him hold you down harder wanting to be in you fully when he found his own release.

“You going to cum again like that for me baby?” You let out a strangled noise and he pushed further. “I want you to cum nice and hard for me, help me off, baby.”

He felt your body start to fill with tension.

“Help me cum” Your body started to get tight, this time he held you down. “Just like that, good girl.” He grunted. Your body swallowed him down before constricting around him. Your body choked around with enough pressure to force him to release. It hit him like a truck, staying still as your body pulled his seed from him. After what felt like an eternity of breathlessness and pulsing he collapsed and tried his best not to crush you.

He felt your arms settle around his neck. Your fingers running through his hair.

“I don't know what that was. I don't know why I liked it. But I did.” You said firmly and he let out a chuckle.

“Did I get you back then?”

“I’m here.” You said.

“You mad about everything?” he asked, happy to be able to talk to you with a clear mind.

“I feel a lot of things right now, mad isn't one of them.” You whispered giving his hair a slight pull.

He enjoyed how you didn't protest him when he tried to look after you. You were always so eager to show that you were independent, so certain he would punish you for anything less.

Now you were letting him wash your hair. Your muscles relaxed as his hands ran over you with soap.

Once dried off you curled up against his side and fell asleep. No nightmares, just sound asleep at his side.

It was almost enough to make him feel like this was meant to be.

The time he shouted at her

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train imagine #Bullet train smut #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson

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