#yeah but don’t worry we’re obnoxious
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Not Flirting
Pairing; Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: You and Rafe want each other so bad.
Warnings: smut, mdni, Public sex, smoking, shotgunning, two uses of slut and one use of good girl, Rafe calling the reader kiddo in flirty way
******
You’re not flirting with Rafe Cameron. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself anyway. The casual touches, and the constant bickering that presents like foreplay is how the two of you have always been. Right?
The two of you don’t even talk outside of when you’re with your mutual friends. That’s probably why you seem so focused on each other. And the only reason the air around you is so charged with sexual tension is because- well he’s Rafe. He could have chemistry with a doorknob. It is not flirting.
You’ve told nearly every person that’s been in contact with you something similar to those words that you’ve been trying to convince yourself of. Nobody believes you, sadly you’re not even stupid enough to believe it. That doesn’t stop you from trying though.
It helps you feel less guilty about wanting his attention, and having it. He’s a known fuck boy on the island and you’ve been sort of friends since high school, but after graduating your friend group got smaller and it was hard to ignore him.
You tried to sometimes, but it never worked. The pull the two of you had on each other was too damn magnetic. Like at this party you were at. He’d found you accidentally, laughing with some people, your bikini practically melded with your skin after a dip in the water.
You don’t see him when he walks behind you, but the way the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, you know it’s him. So, you don’t panic when his arms wrap around your shoulders, or when he takes your cup and drinks out of it, even though he knows you hate that.
“Hey, kid.” You roll your eyes at the nickname he’d given you when he found out about the one year age gap between the two of you. You hate yourself a little for the smile you feel making its way onto your face.
“Don’t start.” Rafe doesn’t acknowledge that, or the people that were around you because he starts pulling you away from them. “Where are you taking me?” You wish you could sound like you actually cared but you’d go with him regardless.
“We’re smoking.” He whispers, his breath fanning the outside of his ear.
You twist your lips in apprehension and Rafe must have a sixth sense for you at this point because he eases your mind immediately.
“Don’t worry, kiddo. It’s more your speed than mine.” Again, you roll your eyes. You don’t stop him from walking you towards wherever he’s going though.
“I don’t even-”
“I know, I know. “ Rafe groans. You reach back to flick him for interrupting you and he finally lets go of you since you’re walking with him willingly. “Just trust me.” You miss his body heat the second that it’s gone but you’re going to blame it on being cold, even though it’s ninety degrees out.
You mock him childishly, to ignore the heat that crawls through your body when you look at him. You remember him saying something about cutting his hair off, and then you teasing him and saying it would look bad. You just thought his long hair added to his cuteness. You were very wrong.
“Oh you did it.” He lets you run your hand over his buzzed head, while you walk beside him.
“Mhm.” He smirks and you already know what’s coming. “Is it as bad as you thought it would be?” But he knows it isn’t because you are not subtle in checking him out and his ego is bigger than the sun.
“It’s somehow worse.”You taunt only to be met with a tug on your hair. It’s childish and violently in character for Rafe. He smiles at the squeak you let out and laughs when you push him back.
“Yeah, whatever you like it.” Your conversation is cut short when your presence is noticed by your other friends.
“Where have you been all night?” Kelce asks from the hammock he’s lying in.
“Up your butt.” You answer obnoxiously, skipping over to your friend Natalie’s lap and giving her a hug. You could tell she was a little high on something you didn’t want.
“I think that is the last place you’d wanna be.” Topper says, patting your head and you can tell he’s been drinking by the way he slurs.
The conversation between you and your friends is mindless while Rafe rolls the blunt on the patio table. You tried not to stare at his fingers as he did so. Or look at him too hard as he licked the paper. You failed.
You try not to think too much of it when he’s finally done and he beckons you over, or when he pulls you in his lap, like that's normal. Once again, you fail. It takes you all over two seconds to get comfortable once he wraps his arm around you though and you’re used to ignoring your friends' looks by now.
You’re a little nervous once he lights it but he brings it to his lips first and you really want your lips to be on that blunt all of a sudden. When he hands it to you, you try to mimic what he had done but you can tell you did it wrong immediately.
“Inhale, kid.” You try again, you kind of feel it this time.
“Lemme see.” He takes it from you and inhales the smoke, which you’re pretty sure is like illegal when it comes to rotation, but you don’t say so. You’re a little surprised when he grips your jaw firm and gentle, before blowing the smoke into your mouth.
“Inhale” You do so, trying your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.
“Good girl.” He says finally releasing your jaw. You choke on the smoke in your lungs as he passes off the joint. Rubbing his hand on your back, immediately reminding you how naked you are in just your bikini.
“I hate you.” You say once you’ve finally gathered yourself, but it holds no weight as you lean back into him.
*****
You’re horny. That’s all you can think about by the time your friends and you stop smoking. Everyone had dispersed by now and it was just you and Rafe with you still sitting sideways across his lap.
“I can feel you.” You squint eyeing your position.
“It would be concerning if you couldn’t.” You're well aware that your skin was touching his. He shakes his head, propping his hand right to the pulse in between your legs that was only covered by the thin layer of your bikini bottoms.
“You’re fucking throbbing.” Your words are caught in your throat at the sensation of him rubbing you. Intensified by your high and how long you’ve been wanting him.
“Someone is gonna see.” You finally get out, trying to shift your legs.
‘Good for them.” When he grabs your jaw this time, it’s to kiss you and you immediately forget whatever it was that you were worried about. He lets you shift around until you’re straddling him, kissing him back with equal fervor.
“So you do like my hair.” He says panting once, you finally give him room to breathe.
“What hair?” You softly scrape your nails down the nape of his neck. He sniggers, when you begin grinding against him. And he’s a little shocked when you pull his hard dick out his shorts.
“And what’re you gonna do with that?”
“Sit on it.” Rafe moans, he’s not sure if it’s at your words or the hickey you’re currently sucking into his neck. Possessive. He finds himself noting. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add, and he almost laughs at the fact that you’re giving him an out.
“I do.” You’re so excited to fuck him you forget how much of a stretch he would be. But it’s too late to care once you start, you brutally force yourself to take half, ignoring your own pained whimpers at the sound of Rafe gasping into your neck.
Despite himself, Rafe grabs your ass so that you can’t go any further. “Eager little slut.”
“You started it.” You accuse after catching your breath. “You’re the slut.” Your voice is whiny, which is unlike you and Rafe can’t help but wonder if that’s a result of you being out of your mind horny or high.
“You’re the one that’s making a mess all over the both of us.” He says gesturing to the slick skin in between the both of you. While he’s talking you continue to take him deeper, nipping at the skin on his neck. He stops you again from taking more of him.
“Too much for you, kiddo.” You push past his hand in an act of rebellion, your ass meeting the top of his thighs. The stinging pain only makes you regret that action a little, but the look in his eye makes it worth it.
‘Fuck” He lets you continue to bounce on him for a minute, but once you start to finally find your rhythm he starts bucking his hips back into yours. He’s pleased when you can no longer hold back your moans.
“Rafe!” And he knows that warning anywhere, especially mixed in with the way you clench around him.
“Yeah? You like that?” Your answer to him is nearly gibberish as your body begins to convulse. And initially Rafe had every intention of pulling out, but the thought washes from his memory at the feeling of you. He groans as he finishes inside you, not utterly appalled by the idea of getting you pregnant.
Once you catch your breath, you laugh a little to yourself. “I guess I like your haircut.”
#rafe cameron#fantasylandloserfic#outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks
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— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬
+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men
+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature
+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content
+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<
+ part two here !
+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!
eddie “the freak” munson
↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum.
coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong.
↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick.
↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).
extra:
↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit.
↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head.
↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head.
↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good.
steve “good hair” harrington
↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!
steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him.
↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable.
↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft.
extra:
↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald.
↻ curved: as straight as a pencil
↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head
↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it.
billy “ima turn you out” hargrove
↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull…
8.2 inches.
no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story.
↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.
↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake!
extra:
↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!
↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook.
↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt.
↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.
jim “big zaddy” hopper
↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all.
but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.
↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(
↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.
extra:
↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare.
↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match.
↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it.
↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)
© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x reader smut#billy hargrove smut#jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x reader smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things x reader smut#stranger things smut
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𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦
pairing - ollie bearman x fashion student!reader
summary - reader and ollie basically hate each other. but when their best friends start dating and they have to third and fourth wheel, their friends will do absolutely everything for them to admit their feelings for each other
a/n - this came out the last living brain cell in my head, reader’s nickname is lemon for the title reason. y’know olives and lemons. also the best friends are made up and have names. like I said this is coming out of my last braincell
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“How much more worse could this possibly be?”
“Uh, if they start making out.”
At the sound of Ollie and Y/n’s question and assumption, the happy couple grabs each other’s faces in their hands and starts to smile, obnoxiously pretend to make out.
“Oh Lord no! Please! For God’s sake, stop.”
“There are children here like us!”
“Let it go Ollie, the two of you are eighteen.” Phoebe teases as Jackson places a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
Y/n and Ollie share a disgusted yet longing look. Of course neither of them realize and their best friends also share a look, a disappointed one.
Ollie and Y/n both sit there bored and entertaining themselves with their glasses of untouched wine.
While the brunette curly haired Brit came straight from practice and is wearing a jeans and a, what Y/n argues is a sweater, jumper. The y/h/c girl also came from her designer job at the plaza, wearing her work uniform which consists of a long jean skirt, white long shirt with bell sleeves and a tight olive green vest.
The two of them mop around and occasionally make faces at Phoebe and Jackson.
“Can the two of you please stop it?” Y/n tosses her dinner napkin at the two and Ollie does the same.
The blonde boy and the red headed girl on the opposite side of Ollie and Y/n both sheepishly smile before returning to their kiss.
“Disgusting,” The y/h/c girl sighs and downs the rest of her glass before setting it on the table and getting up.
“Where are you going?” Phoebe asks, pulling away from the kiss making Jackson pout.
“Leaving the two of you alone to your dinner date and make-out session.” Y/n holds out her hand to Ollie. “You coming Bearman?”
Jackson and Phoebe share a look and then both then both glance at the Ollie and Y/n.
Phoebe wiggles her eyebrows at the girl and Y/n rolls her eyes in response.
Jackson’s eyes widen at the boy across from high and Ollie shrugs and gives him a, ‘I don’t know’, look.
Either way, Ollie take Y/no’s hand follows her out of their booth.
“We are going to leave now. Uh, don’t get back to the apartment too late. It going to sound like a burglar got into our place, so, yeah.” Phoebe and Jackson wave off Y/n’s concerns and urges them leave.
“Got it, yep. Stop worrying about us. Just go and have fun.”
“Yeah, we’re leaving.”
Ollie and Y/n wave the to one more time before leaving the restaurant as fast as they can, trying to escape Phoebe and Jackson’s lovey dovey-ness.
————————————————————————
“Two lemonades please,”
“One with olives. And spiked,”
The bartender, Lilly, raises her eyebrow and looks between the two.
“For me, not him.” Y/n punches Ollie in the arm. “He’s a lightweight,”
Ollie scowls and shakes his head. Lilly snort laughs and rips their orders from the notepad.
“Cute couple, you too.” She says before she leaves.
“Oh no-“
“We’re not-“
“Um hm,” Lilly nods before raising and eyebrow and leaving.
Ollie and Y/n are then left alone, sitting at the bar while everyone else was in the pub was dancing.
Y/n nervously taps her keys and keychain against the table while Ollie looks around, drops of sweats dripping down his forehead.
His eyes wander until he notices the keychain that Y/n has holding her keys.
“You still have that?” Ollie motions the tiny stuffed bear that is swinging against Y/n’s apartment keys.
“Of course I do,” She smiles as she looks at the keychain and then Ollie. “You don’t just just throw away something that you’ve been keeping since you were thirteen.”
Ollie hums and nods. He still remembers when he gave her the little gift.
It was Y/n thirteen’s birthday and Ollie had to rush to get her a gift from after his race. He had past this small store and his eyes had immediately fallen on the adorable keychain and thought about Y/n.
He could remember the expression on her face when she opened the box. The smile on her face was showing everything she was feeling and he could just tell how happy she was.
And then that was the last happy moment the Y/n and Ollie shared before he went back to racing and she left for design school.
After that it was just competition after competition between two until Jackson and Phoebe just couldn’t handle it and started getting the group back together.
“Hey Lemons. Why do we hate each other?”
“What? We don’t hate each other, bear-boy.” Y/n makes a face and gently caressing the tiny face of the bear keychain.
“Sure doesn’t seem like you love each other either.” Lilly raises an eyebrow as she sets the two drinks on the table.
“I- what- we do not-,” Y/n shakes her head rapidly and Ollie helps her out by asking Lilly a question.
“Hey Lilly? What are all these etchings?” Ollie runs his fingers over the carved-in markings on the table and
Lilly glances over the table and lets out a laugh. Her eyes don’t leave one of them the markings.
L.A + A.M
“It’s just all of the people that fell in love here. They engrave their names here and, well, the rest is history.”
“Whose is this?” Y/n asks before taking a sip of her lemonade. She points to the engraving that Lilly has been staring at and then looks at the bartender.
“Oh, that’s just me and my husband.” The two notice the ring hanging around Lilly’s neck. “Lilian Andrews and Alex McCulway.”
“It this where you first met?” Ollie looks around the bar and then back at Lilly.
“Yes it is, and we use to come here every anniversary under he past away.” Lilly smiles fondly as she wipes the other side of the table.
“Oh,” Ollie and Y/n share a look before looking back at Lilly.
“I’m sorry,” The two both say at the same time.
“It happened a long time ago, don’t says sorry. It wasn’t your fault,”
Ollie and Y/n both hum and nod along before awkwardly sipping their drinks.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Ollie and Y/n nod and smile. They leave it like that for moment. The two of them losing themselves in each other’s eyes. They sneak one more glance before pulling away and blushing, hard.
“Also, you’re one weird girl.” Lilly motions toward Y/n’s drink. She snort laughs and Ollie smiles too, his cheeks brighting by the moment again, knowing who was the person that created that drink with her, him.
————————————————————————
“Honey! Shut up!”
“Baby I know, sorry.” Jackson winces as Phoebe steps on his foot.
The two had finally got home from dinner and Phoebe had a gut feeling that Ollie and Y/n had already got back to the apartment. That and the fact that their shoes were already there when the got home.
“Where are they?” Phoebe looks around the house as Jackson follows her around like a scared toddler.
Just as Jackson is about to open his mouth that he sees Ollie and Y/n on the balcony, Phoebe pulls him by the neck behind the large plant where they can listen without being seen.
Ollie and Y/n stand outside, the two in their pajamas, nervously staring at the stars.
“Do you hate me or-“
“I think I’m in love with you and-“
“Wait what?”
“Ollie you’re what?”
“You don’t hate me?”
“Why- what?- why would I?” Y/n stutters over her words and uses her hands in exasperation.
“I don’t know it’s just that we’re always competing and I’m so confused because we went from barely seeing each other to living together and now some a night at some bar fixed us? And I know it’s really late for this now but I’ve had a crush on you since we were thirteen and I don’t know if you do, and you probably don’t, but-“
Y/n cuts him off by grabbing his right cheek and pulls him in for a kiss. His cheeks flush a bright color and he looks like he’s in a trance when they pull away.
“Are you okay?”
“What- what was that for?” Ollie stumbles over his words and Y/n can’t help but laugh.
“You weren’t going to shut up and I needed to tell you something, so.”
“What is it?”
“I like you too, stop worrying.” Y/n smiles shyly and Ollie’s face relaxes and he half grins.
“That’s really, really great.” Ollie smiles pulls her in for another kiss.
The two stare into each others eyes again before smiling holding each other in their arms. Ollie’s hands wrapped around her waist and her arms around his upper body.
They’re both smiling like idiots as they hold each other. A thousand thoughts running through their minds at once. Happy and nervousness. One thing they were sure of was that matter how chaotic their schedules were, they were going to make this work.
And you know what?
A couple years later, the two walked through the doors of the very same bar and they both grinned as they carved their initials into the table, their wedding rings shimmering under the bar lighting.
#ollie bearman#ollie bearman imagine#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman fluff#f2#f2 x reader#f2 imagine#original writing#original post
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dropping monday 14/08…
this must be the place
eddie munson x steve harrington x afab!reader
summary: the summer of 1985 is only just beginning when a trip to scoops ahoy! unlocks some deeply hidden feelings you have swirling in your stomach for steve harrington. eddie munson won't let you live it down, and maybe that’s due to his own feelings too, but a chance encounter on a hot night at lovers lake sends you all down a rabbit hole you could never of prepared for.
content warnings: 18+ only minors dni, sexual content (threesome, piv sex, oral sex, dirty talk, van sex), porn with plot, eddie and reader are fwbs with feelings, gentle bullying and banter, eddie is canonically queer, mentions of past king!steve, brief homophobia mentions, a heartfelt conversation. feelings are felt on all three sides, if you don't like it look away <3 reader isn't explicitly described as alt/goth but it's implied.
sneak peek below the cut
You watch curiously as the Harrington charm working it’s magic right in front of your very eyes, Steve steps in close to Linda, brushes a loose curl back — Jesus Christ, why was that doing something for you — and says something you can’t make out, but it’s enough to have Linda blushing and pulling nervously on the hem of her denim shorts.
Why were you jealous?
The telltale noise of an obnoxiously loud horn beeping lets you — and probably the entire neighbourhood — know Eddie had arrived to pick you up, snapping you completely out of your daydream. Your lips curl up into a smirk when both Linda and Steve jump ten feet at the sound, Steve rolling his eyes and scoffing.
What a bitch.
Eddie catches you looking from your window and lets out an obnoxious laugh, grinning up at you with his annoyingly perfect teeth. You wanted to punch him, maybe, but Friday nights were for one thing and one thing only, and that was getting high at Lovers Lake in the flatbed of the van.
So it’d have to wait until you didn’t need him for the weed or the ride.
Summer meant the pretty sunset as a backdrop whilst you smoked the day's events away — it somehow made everything that little bit more relaxing, watching the swirls of orange, pink and purple melt together as your brain fogged with the drugs, a nice settling in your tummy as your high took over.
It was second only to the heavy September rain that you loved so much, you found yourself yearning for it all year around. The loud patter of the large droplets clinking on the tin roof of Eddie’s van, buried under a nest of blankets to keep the cool chill off your arms and legs. Eddie’s hot breath fanning over your neck as he kissed it, chest heavy against your back. Warm, solid and comforting.
Maybe you were in love with him, or maybe you weren’t. You didn’t want to think too much about that.
You glide out of the house as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to arouse suspicion about where you were going. Even in your twenties, your parents would still have a few choice words for you in regards to Eddie Munson, and you were in no mood for the lecture. You’d heard it too many times in the years you’d known him, since fifth grade when he pushed you in the playground and you pulled his hair in retaliation.
From that moment on you were inseparable, to the dismay of your parents.
You’re aware of two other sets of eyes watching you from across the street as you bounce down the driveway, all smiles as excitement thrums through your entire body. Eddie’s maybe looking at you like you hung the fucking moon or something, but that’s probably to do with the fact you’re wearing his shirt and looking the epitome of hot.
Okay, maybe you had a complex.
“So that’s where my shirt went,” Eddie hums, giving you an appreciative once-over as you wrench the passenger door open with a horrific sounding crunch of metal, “looks better on you, I’ve gotta say.”
You clamber into the van with a huff, laughter spilling into it, “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to woo me, Munson. We’re gonna fuck anyway, don’t worry.”
Eddie laughs loud and so fucking obnoxious, as if for somebody else’s entertainment, and it does catch the attention of the lovebirds on the other side of the road. You look over just as Steve catches your eyes, and suddenly your chest feels kind of heavy as he stares at you with a kind of intensity that you can’t put a finger on.
“Take a fuckin’ picture, Harrington,” Eddie cackles, head basically out the fucking window and he’s grinning at them both, snapping you completely out of it, “that’s as close as you’re getting to her, count your lucky stars.”
Eddie and Steve weren’t friends. In fact quite the opposite. Steve and Tommy were miserable assholes for years, made Eddie’s life hell at any given turn unless they needed him for drugs.
You think back, and truthfully the turning point was during Junior year. Steve had tripped Eddie in the hall, called him ‘queer’. Eddie didn’t stand for that, sucker punched Steve right in the jaw, hard enough that his skull hit the locker adjacent to him.
“That shit might hurt you when your daddy calls you it, but you’ve gotta do a lot worse than call me exactly what I am as an insult, Harrington.” Eddie had grinned, vicious and seething, as he watched Steve clutch desperately at his bruised jaw, wide eyed and hair askew from the force.
Steve never bothered Eddie again after that.
In fact, not long after, Steve never bothered anybody again. Maybe the knock to the head had quite literally knocked some sense into him, or something.
“You good?” Eddie’s voice, his large hand gripping your thigh knocks you back into reality, out of the daydream, and the grounding is enough to have your entire body melting into the simple touch.
#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson x steve harrington x reader#my fanfic#mine#x reader#this must be the place
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drunk: m.k
summary: after an argument with your boyfriend’s, you all engage in a silent treatment. well, until you get drunk and need jake to pick you up, as well as the others to look after you in your drunken state.
warnings: alcohol use, reader is drunk and in the mood to be a nuisance, sick/vomit, swearing, light angst, fluff!! moon boys taking care of reader, it really goes through the 5 stages of grief in this one
word count: 3.2k :)
a/n: thank you thank you thank you for 400 followers!!!! it’s insane how much support you’ve all shown and i cannot express how much i appreciate it :)
It was around 2 o’clock in the morning when the familiar buzz of a phone echoed around the walls of the flat. It was Jake who awoke to it, cursing under his breath as his eyes refused to open from their interrupted sleep. The buzzing stopped, momentarily offering an ounce of peace which Jake gladly took- until it resumed, a growing insistence in it’s tone which eventually prompted Jake to open his eyes.
The first thing he did was check his watch. Seeing how late, or early, it was suddenly inserted a sense of urgency in him, as he clambered to turn on the lamp beside the bed and roll his body out. The buzzing was still prevalent as Jake finally reached the phone he shared with his alters.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when your face shone on the screen.
You hadn’t called in a couple of days now, neither had he, likely due to a rather explosive, extremely stupid, argument you had gotten in with all of them. It was rather rare to be in an argument with all 3 of your boyfriend’s. But after another squabble about schedules and missions, it was bound to blow up, leading to you leaving and giving the silent treatment. Not that any of them tried to stop you, just as in need of the space and reflection time.
All of you were renowned for your pettiness. Which is why it took Jake a moment to answer the phone. But then, worry settled in as he remembered the time, realised you wouldn’t be calling unless it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t make a move to talk first, figuring you would do that. He was right.
He could hear the muffled booming of music behind you, tacky club sounds that were only tolerable when pissed. Surrounding that, the obnoxious chatter of people Jake could only assume were drunk, all of it moulding into a loud hum in his ears. He cringed in his barely awake state, holding the phone away from his ear briefly before deciding to make his presence known.
“Yeah?”
“Jakeee?” Oh shit. He could automatically tell by your disorientated tone that you were drunk. “ ‘s that you? Jakey?” He felt annoyance rise in him at your nonchalance to the situation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“Yep. Why you calling?” He was being short with you. In your delirious state, you couldn’t tell.
“I need- hiccup – to be p-picked up because ‘m hungry and tireddd and my friend, she left with this girl and I- hello, doggo, your so cute!- need you.” Jake cussed, muttering a few profanities in Spanish before finding words to reply.
“Mierda, fine. Where are you?”
“Ummm I don’t knowww, wait, excuse me? I love your outfit, wait, sorry, where am I? Can you please message it to my boyfriend- wait can I call him that? We’re- hiccup- angry at each other.” Your voice was slurred, desperate, and Jake suddenly felt a sense of worry at your vulnerability.
“Go wait inside, hmm?” Jake said through the phone, putting on some shoes and grabbing his cap and jacket. It was then his phone pinged, and he realised the strangers you had accounted yourself with had sent your location. You were still mumbling to them about the argument, about your flat, about how painful your feet were due to the dancing and stupid shoes you’d decided to wear.
Jake left you on the phone as he got in his cab, not wasting anytime as he started the engine and all but sped to where you were. It didn’t take him long to arrive, the roads empty but streets alive with people looking for a good time on a Saturday night. He spotted you instantly. You were sat on the sidewalk, a woman and her partner next to you. Your head was in your hands as your, now bare, feet gently kicked the gravel. He swore again, partly at the state you were clearly in, but also at the remnants of annoyance he felt from the not forgotten vendetta.
Jake pulled over quickly, cap secured on his head as he exited his cab and made his way over to you. The people who were sat with you clocked him, one of them meeting the distance, explaining how they stayed with you until he got there, and that you were in a ‘pretty bad state.’ Jake thanked them, making the short way over to where you were sat, still not aware of his presence.
“Y/N,” he said simply, now stood in front of you, but you didn’t notice, too lost in the song you were humming under your breath. He sighed, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to touch your forearm. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go.” Your head snapped up; eyes droopy as if you had been sleeping.
“Jakeee you’re here!” You exclaimed, practically falling into his kneeling frame, catching him off guard. “Thought you wouldn’t come because you h-hate me now.” His face twisted in confusion.
“What? Your drunk, let’s get you home, c’mon. Look, I’ll help you up, on three.” You sniffled; arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he helped manoeuvre you both up. You didn’t let go when you were standing, deciding you couldn’t stand. He was reluctant to wrap an arm around your waist, still slightly angry, but more worried it would offend you. But it was clear it was what you needed as you tumbled, shakily attempting to walk to his car- or, rather, a complete stranger’s car. “Fuck, taking too long, just, walk faster.” You did as he said, maybe too literally, as your arms began to get suffocating, as he gripped your waist, helping you both walk to his cab.
You giggled as his hands unknowingly tickled your side when he helped you get into the passengers seat. “Smells funny in here.” You chuckled, taking an exaggerated sniff of the air. Jake knew it was his cigars he snuck, but chose to ignore you, going to shut the door. “WAIT WHERE ARE YOU- DON’T LEAVE ME!!” your sudden rise in volume made him jump, and he came back as soon as he left.
“I’m getting in the car, ay.” Before turning back and saying, “Seatbelt.”
“Nonono I can’t do it, won’t get in the… thingy.” Jake had the sudden urge to kick something, forgetting how frustrating drunk you can be, especially when sober. He exhaled deeply through his nose before muttering a ‘fine.’ You gasped as he leant over you, face awfully close to you own, so much so he could smell the alcohol on your breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle again as his gloved hand came down by your side, fumbling for the seatbelt and eventually getting it in the buckle.
It was then you thought of the most hilarious idea ever. As he went to get back up, you wrapped your arms round his shoulder and pulled him, so he nearly collapsed back down onto your lap. You let out a belly laugh, tears squeezing your eyes as he shouted, “QUE MIERDA!” He got out, shutting the door slightly louder than usual as he strode to his seat in the front. “Always playing, I swear, estúpido when drinking,”
The car was filled with your chuckles, as if Jake had told a joke, but he was deadly silent. What could he say? You were intoxicated. He couldn’t be mad at you right now, not when you wouldn’t remember it. But he didn’t want to be nice to you, still angry, still not ready to put it behind him completely. He was looking forward to get back to the flat where it would become his alters problem.
And truthfully, the smell of your perfume was beginning to intoxicate his senses.
When the flat finally came into view, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, diminished when he heard your soft snores filling the small space of the cab. He internally cussed at himself, having previously wondered why you had gone suddenly quiet, realising he would not only have to wake you up, but get you inside.
Jake turned the key in the ignition, engine shutting off with a slight groan. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, dreading the moments from now until later. “Why has the road stopped moving?” The voice your voice, broke him from his worries, and when he turned to face you, your eyes were already desperately on his.
“Hasn’t, we have. Gotta get out now.”
“W-Wait, your leaving me again? Please don’t leave me here!” Jake felt something in his chest pang with sadness, but he pushed it away, remembering you were drunk and had little control over your heartfelt pleas.
“ ‘m not leaving you, look, we’re getting out the car together, yeah?” He demonstrated opening the door, motioning for you to do the same, and with a small smile of relief, you did. “There ya go.” He praised lightly as you copied his actions. “Now wait there, I’ll come an’ get you.”
“M’kay, Jakey, I’ll wait.” Fuck. The feeling was back in his chest, harder to push away this time. He did, however, ignore it, long enough to reach where you were sat obediently awaiting him. “Your back!” You quipped excitedly, hands reaching for him in a childlike manner. He didn’t answer, instead helped you up, felt goosebumps arise with every touch of your skin, felt his neck burn as your warm breezed over it.
The journey to the flat wasn’t as hard as he had envisioned. Once you got the hang of walking again, you were off, with his support, of course. You had made it to the door, Jake feeling instant relief wash over him as one of his alters promised it would be their turn. “Marc’s turn now, ‘kay? He’s gonna help- hey, listen, did’ya hear me?”
“Yes, Jake.” You try to say but it comes out as a laugh. “Stay safe.” His voice is stern, but the concern is there, hidden amongst the small façade he always has up. And then his eyes are rolling back, and Jake Lockley is gone for the night- instead, Marc’s there, eyes even harder than his alters. He says nothing as he unlocked the door to the flat, pushing it open with his foot as his arm comes around your waist. You hardly react to the contact, allowing him to guide you through the familiar haze of the apartment, the place that so often felt like home, even when all your senses were torn to shreds.
“Marc…” You suddenly let out, and he notices the buzz on your face has diminished, the way it always does by the end of the night.
“What?” He doesn’t mean to be short with you, really. But a part of him, much like Jake, still held a sort of bitterness- as he always has after an argument.
“Feel sick.” His own stomach drops as he springs into action, cussing loudly as he all but rushes you to the bathroom. Your cheeks are dramatically puffed with air as you gag, Marc barely getting you to the toilet in time before your spilling the remnants of the night into the basin. He sighed, one hand on firmly on your shoulder, helping hold you up, and the other rubbing soft circles on your back.
“C’mon, there you go, get it all out.” You do, until your insides are aching, and head is pounding. Finally, the sick ends. You practically fall backward, Marc barely catching you as he guides you to lean against the wall, figuring that would be an easier task than standing you back up.
“Hurts.” You whisper, burying your face in your hands, knees to your chest. “Your head?” Marc asks, but he already knows that’s the answer.
“My heart.” Oh. He turned to look at you, properly, for the first time since you came into the flat; you look terrible. Your top is hanging off your body, the action of leaning over the basin making it scramble to stay on right. Your mascara is smudged from tears. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, drooping further by the minute, and your hair has become a mess on top of your head.
Yet, Marc can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes upon.
No matter what situation you all found yourselves in, he would always think that. Always.
When he next spoke, the edge to his voice was gone, replaced with a layer of sympathy and compassion- not that you noticed, nor particularly cared. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helped you stand up on your feet, trying to ignore your soft sniffles as you came down form the high of a night out. He couldn’t help but swipe a tear away from your cheek, leaving his thumb for a second longer than he knew he should, just to revel in your skin.
He started by wiping off as much of your make-up as he could, using one of the wipes you had stocked in his cupboard. When he turned on the tap, you groaned. “Hey, it’s okay, look, it’ll help your headache.”
“Noo, ‘s cold.”
“It’ll feel nice.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Pinkie promise?” Marc rolled his eyes as you held up your pinkie finger but didn’t refuse it. Instead, he interlocked his own with yours, grateful to see a least the hint of a smile tugging at the end of your lips. The water did ,in fact, offer some comfort from the heat and sweat on your skin, and you thanked Marc for keeping his promise. “Good job. Wanna brush your teeth?”
“You still have my toothbrush.” It was the first coherent sentence you had said in a while. He followed to where you were pointing, your toothbrush stood proudly with the boys. “Course, we do. It’s only been a few days.” “Thought you’d throw it away by now.”
“What d’you mean?”
“That you don’t love me anymore.” Marc swore his heart broke a little. His thoughts became jumbled, swirling around each other as he took in your words.
“What… are you, are you serious?”
“Can you do it for me?”
“Huh?” It took a moment for him to register what you were asking until you grabbed your toothbrush and held it out for him.
“Please?” Perhaps it was your pleading, or your eyes whilst saying it, but Marc couldn’t resist, taking the toothbrush and getting it ready. It was silly, really silly, especially since your mouth was already open as wide as it could be, teeth on display. Marc cleared his throat, debating on whether this was a task he wanted to do, before deciding the sooner he did, the sooner you could go to sleep. And so, he did.
You didn’t react at first, not even when Marc talked you through the first step. But suddenly, you found the situation rather amusing, a giggle leaving your lips as Marc brushed your back teeth. “What?” You didn’t respond at first, just laughed, and he found himself laughing too.
“’s weird.” You whispered, a hiccup escaping your mouth as Marc agreed.
“Certainly didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight, that’s for sure.”
“Sorry that I ruined your plans.”
“Yeah, well, your lucky I love you.” It came out so naturally, without question, that even in your drunken state, you knew he meant it. It was silent for the rest of the minute. When you were done, Marc told you to spit, which you did immediately. Marc suddenly realised what you were wearing. “Oh shit, wait here, lemme get you some clothes.”
“But I’m wearing clothes.”
“Clothes to sleep in.”
“…oh.” You said suggestively, and Marc raised an eyebrow.
“Stop messin’ around, need to get you changed.”
“Okay, Marc.”
“You gonna wait here?”
“Whatever you say, Marc.” His heart dropped every time you said his name, as if it were given a different meaning every time it left your lips. He was back quickly with one of the tops from the draw you had in their flat, the one he knew was your favourite.
“Arms up, baby.” The name slipped out, but you didn’t notice- it might’ve well as been your name from him. You obliged, silent now. He was grateful that the task didn’t take long, and soon enough, you were dressed comfortably. “All done.” He muttered, mostly to himself, but you smiled, reaching for his hand.
“Thank you, Marc.” He let his thumb rub over the skin of your palm, let his eyes lock with yours, pupils dilated. And then it wasn’t his eyes you were staring at anymore. “Hello, Steven.” You whispered, smiling.
“Hiya, lovie. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He had already helped you up, hand still holding yours as he directed you the short distance to the bed.
“Why, Mr Grant, are you trying to get me into bed?”
“Very funny. C’mon, your very tired, practically fallin’ asleep walking, eh? Besides, your much too drunk to do anything expect from sleep peacefully. Look, I’ll tuck you in so you can do just that.” Steven pulled the duvet back for you to climb into the bed, and you instantly found comfort in their smell, the sheets that moulded against your body so well. It was familiar, it was home.
Steven kept his promise, pulling the duvet tightly over your body so that it was hugging you. He even went as far as lifting your head up with one hand plumping the pillow behind it, before gently placing it back down. “All better.” He muttered, proud at his work of making you a human cocoon.
“Thank you, Steven.”
“Your very welcome. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes already closing from the undeniable comfort of the sheets.
“Okay. Welp, if you change your mind, gimme a shout, okay? I’ll just be on the sofa.” Your eyes shot back open, realisation hitting as you felt his presence leaving your side.
“No, wait, w-where are you going? Why are you leaving me?” Your eyes were getting watery as your hand reached out to tug on Steven’s shirt.
“No-no-no, ‘m not leaving you, would never leave you… I’m just over there, look.” You didn’t glance as he tried to show you the sofa, eyes trained on his own.
“Please…can you stay with me?” His eyes widened slightly, not sure if he should, not sure if you would wake up and be mad at him for staying in the same bed after not being on speaking terms. But the pout on your lips, the gentle tug on his shirt, the tears in your eyes… he agreed, slowly getting into the bed next to you.
He was surprised when you instantly snuck out his warmth, snuggling into his side and breathing a sigh of relief. His arms sought place on your frame- one over your shoulders, the other stroking the back of your neck. He thought you were asleep when your breathing got heavier, until your voice spoke again.
“Steven?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you angry at me?” He smiled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see.
“No, love.”
“Really?”
“Course not. It’s in the past, yeah? Let’s just focus on getting you rested and better.”
“So you’ll stay with me?”
“All night long ‘till the sun comes up.”
“Steven?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.”
“Of course, love.” And he smiled as he heard your gentle snores, feeling on the cusp of sleep himself. “Always.”
tags: @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476 @alexxavicry @later-gators12
#Moon Knight#moon knight imagine#moon knight angst#moon knight ff#moon knight fluff#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockely x reader#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockely#steven grant fanfiction#jake lockley fanfiction#marc spector fanfiction#fluff#angst
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prompt 1 and/or 6 w Shidou or Karasu x male! reader? i’m fine w gn! as well :)) thank youu <33
this was supposed to be a halloween themed fic since i got this in october but….. also can’t believe ive never written for shidou b4 holy shit
prompt 1: "what are you do-" "look, now we match!" (feat. shidou ryusei)
tags: male!reader
event masterlist
you stood outside in the dark for god knows how long until you finally saw your boyfriend’s car pull up to the curb. you opened the door and quickly got in to escape the cold.
“took you long en- ah! oh god!” you yelped as you took in the sight before you. your odd eccentric little boyfriend, shidou, in the driver’s seat. not only was his face completely covered in face paint, making his usual tanned skin completely white, but it also had a red line of lipstick smeared across his lips, paired with dark smokey eyeshadow. all of that topped off with bright green hair worn down which was a very rare sight.
“jesus christ ryu… why do you look like that? why are you dressed as the joker?” you asked frantically, “don’t we have a party to get to right now?”
“chill out babe… it’s a costume party anyway,” he grinned at your startled reaction, “i didn’t tell you before ‘cause you would totally back out if i did.”
“yeah, you’re right. i definitely would,” you let out a resigned sigh before running your fingers through his now neon green hair. “did you really dye your hair for this costume?” you asked.
“don’t worry,” shidou said nonchalantly, slightly leaning into the touch, “it’s just a temporary dye. one wash and i’ll be back to normal.”
“right, ‘normal,’” you muttered before checking if any green got on your hand. which thankfully, none did. “well i don’t have any costume and i don’t wanna be that fucking guy who shows up to a costume party with no costume so i guess we just gotta cancel plans.” you said, in hopes you can finally escape the party you just didn’t feel like attending.
“wait! don’t worry, i got the perfect thing for that! just close your eyes,” shidou said before rustling through a shopping bag he had in the back seat.
“oh god,” you mumbled before hesitantly closing your eyes, “what are you do-“
you grunted when your words got interrupted by his hands slipping something onto your head and over your face.
“tada!” he said triumphantly as he released whatever hard plasticky material he just placed over your head, “look, now we match!”
you glanced at the overhead mirror to see a mask now on your face, specifically a batman mask. the hard black material stopping right above your nostrils. it suited the long black coat that you just so happened to wear tonight very well, too well actually.
“ryu… are we really going to this party as batman and the joker?” you said apprehensively as you stared at yourself in the mirror with a subtle scowl, unsure of going out like this.
“yeah, come on! it’s just another one of my genius ideas.” he leaned over and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you glared at him, knowing how his “genius” plans usually go.
you rolled your eyes, though deep down his antics had you feeling slightly amused. you then sighed, “oh what am i gonna do with you, ryu?”
he admired the way you two looked in the tiny mirror with a large grin on his face exaggerated by his dramatic makeup. “god, we look fucking awesome. we’re gonna be the hottest couple in there.”
he then gave you a big and obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek, leaving a red lip print behind, before starting up the car.
“woah ryu, you’re about to cause a big scandal if batman gets caught kissing the joker.” you let out a soft laugh, playing into his antics, as you wiped the makeup off with your hand. the crack in your unsure demeanor only makes him laugh along with you.
“oh we are so winning the costume contest i signed us up for.”
“wait, you did what?!”
i looked up batman masks on google images and i’m giggling why do they look so fucking goofy
taglist(sign up here!): @leosxrealm @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo @remy-roll @maochira @catmisu @stxxrboy
#★ snail.writes ★#blue lock x reader#shidou x reader#shidou ryusei x reader#blue lock x male reader#shidou x male reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock drabbles#bllk x reader#bllk x male reader
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Violent Night - Part 2
Summary - Rafe is there to protect you when your abusive ex shows up to the party.
Warnings - Violents Rafe, fighting
Part 1
-
Ever since the night you broke into the Cameron's house, you and Rafe were inseparable. Mainly because he was worried about you and didn’t want you to be alone. He also didn’t trust Greg in the slightest. He wanted to make sure you were as far away from him as possible. Greg had tried to call several times, but you never picked up. Even came by your house once, and luckily, you weren’t home. Rafe wanted to kick his ass, but per your request, he said he wouldn’t go out of his way to do it; but he secretly hoped there would be an opportunity. Luckily for him, the opportunity came.
-
Two months had gone by since the night of the incident and your relationship with Rafe progressed. Nothing more than soft kisses, cuddling, and nicknames. You hadn’t slept together yet, Rafe was doing his best to respectful your boundaries, but man did he want to bend you over. The two of you hadn’t officially labeled it yet, but he made sure that the whole island knew you were his. Tonight, Rafe invited you to join him at Topper’s party. It would be your first outing since Greg, and since you two had become an item. You loved the idea of going out with him, but you were also nervous about the possibility of Greg being there. As if reading your mind, Rafe spoke up.
“I doubt Greg will be there, he doesn’t even know it’s happening. Plus, he never shows up to Toppers parties anyway, and if he does, well I’ll kick his ass into next week.”
“Rafe” You said with a giggle and head shake as you applied your makeup, still debating if you wanted to go or not. Rafe comes up behind you and pulls you into his chest.
“Please baby, it will be fun. I want to make it public that we’re together. Plus, you won’t leave my side once, I’ll even take you to the bathroom.” You laughed at that.
“Rafe, I am plenty capable of going to the bathroom by myself. Also, the whole island already knows I’m yours, you’re not very discreet” you spoke with a smile “but you’re right, I need to get out.”
“So, we’re going?”
“We’re going” You smiled to him. He stepped back and through his fists in the air and let out a whoop.
“I’m going to text Top and let him know we’re coming”. As he exits the bathroom you hear him holler “I finally get to take my girl to a party!”
By the time you arrived at the party, your anxiety hit you like a 1000 pounds. Your grip on Rafe’s hand got significantly tighter.
“Hey baby, you’re okay, I’m right here. We can leave whenever you want, but let’s get you a drink first, yeah?” You just nod. A drink sounds perfect right now. You make your way over to the drinks table and see a bottle of vodka, you grab it without thinking and take two huge swigs of it.
“Woah settle down baby girl, don’t want to get too drunk, too fast.”
“Yes, I do.” You said with a straight face, Rafe just laughed.
“Alright, well I’m here for you.”
“I know” you said with a shy smile before grabbing a seltzer and heading back into the thick of the party. The liquor was finally hitting, and it was hitting good. You drank the perfect amount to get you right on the cusp of being drunk but not reckless. You pulled Rafe to the dance floor and the two of you were moving like no one was watching. Grinding heavily, but you would stop occasionally to dance in some obnoxious way to whatever song was playing. Rafe would laugh and then pull you back into him. After quite some time you needed a break.
“I need to get another drink, maybe some air.” Rafe just nods and grabs your hand directing you to the patio. Kelce and Topper were sitting out there with some girls and a joint.
“Well hello gentlemen” you said with a giggle.
“Hey y/n, glad you could make it out tonight” Top said with a smile. “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, I’m having a blast! I really need to do this more often.” You all started to laugh when you noticed Topper and Kelce's faces immediately drop. You and Rafe's heads turn to follow their line of sight and your heart sank. There he was, Greg, clearly drunk and pissed. Rafe stepped in front of you.
“What do you want?” Rafe’s voice suddenly scary.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t THE Rafe Cameron with my girl.” Greg turns to you.
“She is not yours”
“Come on y/n, really, Rafe fucking Cameron.” He stumbled closer and Rafe took a step forward.
“You don’t get to talk to her.” You could feel the tension in Rafe, and his hands were in fists. You grabbed his arm to encourage him not to do anything rash.
“Wow really y/n, you need Rafe to be your knight and shining armor? Hm? What, do you think I’m going to hit you again? Baby that as an accident, I will never do that again” he reached a handout to you “please come back to-”
“I said don’t talk to her.” He was yelling. Calling you baby was crossing the line. At this point Kelce and Topper were on their feet, realizing the situation was about to head south. Frankly, they were shocked Rafe hadn’t beaten him already. He must really care about you to ignore his instincts just to keep you smiling. Gregs deminer changed when you didn’t go to him.
“God, so pathetic. Both of you. I never thought I would see the day that Rafe Cameron is pussy whipped. Especially by someone like her” He gestures to you, his drunk gaze lingering a bit too long. Rafe stepping in front of you fully now. “She is hot and great for fucking.” You grabbed Rafe’s arm, pulling him back. “Don’t you agree Rafe, I know someone like you would only be with her to fuck” you heart shattered at that. Was that true? You hadn’t even fucked yet, but would he leave after you did? “She’s got the sweetest pussy-” Rafe lost it, he didn’t care how badly you wanted him to avoid this fight, he would not stand by and let some drunk, abusive, asshat talk about his girl like that. He charged Greg at full speed. You could see the pure fear in his eyes. Greg knew what Rafe was capable of, but the idiot somehow thought he could get away with it. At this point you were glad to have Rafe pound his face in, if it meant he would finally leave you alone. The sounds of Rafe’s fist colliding with Gregs face we’re getting to be too much. Greg got one good swing in, but it wasn’t much of a fight. You turned to Top.
“Get him off.” You said through a sob. Him and Kelce run over and grab Rafe, pulling him off a very bloody Greg. You hated the bastard but seeing him fucked up still made your stomach twist. In a low and eerie voice Rafe said.
“If you ever come near her again, I will kill you. I will fucking kill you. Got it?” He turned towards you, everything in him softened when he saw you. Kelce and Topper go to pick up Greg and throw him out of the house. Rafe steps closer to you, afraid to touch you.
“You’re bleeding... and you’re knuckles...” You said through tears. Rafe couldn’t believe you were concerned. He expected you to be upset that he beat the living shit out of Greg.
“Hey, I���m okay... really” He held your face now. Whipping away a tear. “Look I know you didn’t want me to fight him... But baby, I couldn’t just let-”
“I know. It’s okay” you spoke softly, he smiled down at you.
“He will never come near you again okay.”
“I know, but Rafe...Please don’t actually kill him. I know you could...but just... maybe don’t do that.” You said with an uncomfortable laugh, Rafe’s smile grew.
“I won’t baby, just needed to scare him that’s all. But you’re safe now, okay.” You just nod. After a moment you looked up into his stunning eyes.
“Okay now it’s my turn to clean you up.” you spoke. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before you grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom.
You sat him on the edge of the bathtub and started to dab his lip with a wet cloth. His eyes piercing into you, which you did your best to ignore.
“Can I ask you something?” he just hums in response.
“Are you only looking for sex from me?” you finally look up to meet his gaze. He looks at you, with a tiny hint of pain in his eyes.
“Is this because of what that prick said?” You look down again. Rafe takes your chin and holds it up so you’re looking at him.
“y/n, I have been in love with you since we were kids.” His declaration made your mouth fall open. “I never did anything about it because you were my little sisters best-friend, and then you were with that fucker. His hands dropped to your waste to pull you closer. “I want to be with you because you have always made me smile, you’ve made me want to be a better man, and you have so much love inside you despite all the shit you have been put through.” he took a beat “and I mean, yeah, of course I want to fuck you, you’re sexy as hell” he chuckled “but I want to do it right, and when you’re ready.” The sincerity in his eyes is something you’ve never seen from him. “y/n, I really do...love you” it was his turn to look down. Rafe Cameron just admitted he loved someone, something most people thought was impossible. You grabbed his cheeks and forced his head up.
“Rafe Cameron, I have been in love with you since the day we met. Even if you were a little punk, who gave me and Sarah a hard time.” You both laughed, but tears started to form in your eyes. “I never dreamed in a million years you would see me as anything more than your sister's friend, and the night I came over, I knew that there was something real here. I love you Rafe Cameron and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” Rafe grabbed you and pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss. You finally pulled back for some air, and Rafe put his forehead on yours, not wanting to let you go, ever.
“Let’s go back to your place, yeah?” You spoke. He just smiled and nodded.
It was only a few months after that night that he proposed. A lot of people on the island were shocked that it all happened so fast, more people were surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. It didn’t matter what anyone thought though. You were his, and he was yours. How it was always meant to be.
To this day, you thank the heavens that Rafe was home that night you snuck into the Cameron's house.
#soft rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe obx#dark rafe cameron#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx
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really know him
part i part ii part iii part iv
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 3,987
warnings: swearing, slight sexual innuendos, mentions of past trauma, reader has tough relationship with parents, fluff (let me know if i missed anything)
a/n: hi!! yeah, yeah, it’s been an entire month since you got the first part of this and i’m sorry, i swear!! but school has been kicking the shit out of me. anyways, i’m happy with this, and i think it’s given this story a good sort of push in the right direction. there is one line that is hopper’s dialogue that you might catch. i hope you like it!!! love you and happy reading <333
“You see things, and you understand. You’re a wallflower.”
————
Eddie’s mouth is full when Wayne speaks. The food hasn’t even cooled off enough for anyone normal to eat it, but Eddie doesn’t care. He’s so fucking hungry. He swears he feels like this—like he’s never eaten before—at least once a day.
“How long you and Y/N been seein’ each other?” Wayne’s got his arms crossed on the tabletop, letting his dinner cool some while his nephew allows noodles and cheese to burn the shit out of the roof of his mouth.
Eddie knows it’s just Hamburger Helper but it’s so fucking good. He swallows, and takes a sip of his drink before he responds.
Eddie’s leg starts to bounce and Wayne gently kicks his calf to get him to quit and take a breather. It works, like it always does.
“How do you know her name? And we aren’t seeing each other. We’re friends.” He shoves more noodles in his mouth and chews for a minute while he thinks. Wayne just watches him, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Well, acquaintances, I guess.”
Wayne snorts. “I don’t think you have acquaintances at twenty, Ed.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and stabs his fork into the center of his bowl. He wipes his hands and moves his hair from where it’s slipped over his shoulders.
His hair is wet.
Ever since Eddie was a kid, a little while after Wayne got him, he’s tried to take his shower while Wayne fixes dinner with the goal of being finished by the time the food is on the table. He did that very same thing today.
He does it even when they get takeout and tries to shower in the time Wayne is gone. He does it in the time it takes his frozen pizza to cook when he has to eat alone because Hellfire runs past the time Wayne leaves for work.
Selfishly, Wayne hopes Eddie keeps this up. It makes him happy to see that childlike attitude run rampant.
“I know her name because she’s lived here since her parents had her. I know everybody in this godforsaken park.”
Eddie takes a sip of his Dr. Pepper, slurping it obnoxiously. “Pulling the old and wise thing, huh?”
Wayne reaches the slim distance across the tiny table and wacks Eddie on the head, though it’s absolutely void of malice. “Ow!” Eddie exclaims as if he’s been brutally beaten.
“And we aren’t seeing each other. I haven’t talked to her since before she graduated, actually. I just saw her the other night and we’ve just been…” Eddie gestures with his hands, flailing for a word or anything to describe what’s happening between you and him.
You’re not friends. Right?
And you’re definitely not anything more, but it’s not like Eddie would mind that. Being more. He’s sort of always had a thing for you. He’s never told anyone that.
Maybe it had been a little subdued, but seeing you the other night had it rushing back, a wave crashing over and toppling him.
Eddie’s been kind of worried about you since, actually. You didn’t want to talk about why you were upset, and he respected that, but he still wanted to know. He really didn’t like seeing you that way, and he wants to fix it, but he can’t if you don’t let him in.
“Hanging out,” Eddie finally finishes, dropping his hands.
Wayne takes the last few bites of his dinner and looks at his nephew. It’s not hard for Wayne to see that his boy feels something for you. Not with the blush spreading across Eddie’s cheeks.
It’s like when Eddie was young and he’d ride his bike through the trailer park, or to a friend's house and he’d come back flushed. He looks out of breath. But he’s feeling this way because of you.
Wayne thinks that’s pretty damn special. He thinks there’s something in you that’s opening up a part of Eddie he’s never seen before. Like you’re cracking open his boyish soul.
“Hanging out?”
Eddie chugs the rest of his Dr. Pepper, pretending like he’s not being interrogated. He gets up and pulls another from the fridge, setting the other by the sink where he can rinse it out later.
He spoons more food into his bowl. They’re definitely not going to have leftovers.
“Yes, Wayne.”
“Does it still count as hanging out if you haven’t even gone out?”
“Jesus H. Christ, we’re friends okay?”
Wayne laughs. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite sounds in the world, but he’s never told his uncle that.
Wayne stands, taking his dishes to the sink to wash. He rinses out Eddie’s can and tosses it in the recycling bin.
“Hey, I was gonna do that!” Eddie whines.
“No you weren’t, Ed. But anyways, your friend can come over anytime she likes.”
Eddie drops his forehead against the countertop, face burning. He’s supposed to be too old for this shit.
————
Your parents aren’t home. In fact, they’re gone for the weekend, which means you’re alone. It means that the trailer is quiet and you don’t have to lock yourself in your bedroom or storm outside and cry on a rickety picnic table.
You’re taking advantage of the free couch when you hear the mailman outside. You hop up, knowing that if you don’t collect all of the mail you’ll hear about it. But this also gives you your chance to be nosy and see what kinds of things your parents are being sent.
You hop down the steps, wishing you’d put on a jacket because it’s a lot chillier than you’d expected. You meander down the road a little ways to the row of mailboxes containing yours.
You’re nose deep, retrieving the newspaper and a small stack of what you’re sure is mostly junk, when a car door slams and makes you jump.
You use your elbow to close the mailbox door, and when you spin around you’re met with a cheesy grin and a mess of curls belonging to one Eddie Munson.
“Jesus Christ,” you smile, “Hi, Eddie.”
He grins, spinning his key ring around his index finger. “Hey. How are we this afternoon, m’lady?”
“Okay. Just get done with school, buddy?”
“Oh fuck you,” Eddie laughs. It makes you grin and Eddie thinks he’s swooning. Like, big time.
Your eyes crinkle and these sweet lines form around your mouth. You’re so pretty. So pretty, he thinks.
“But yeah.” Eddie scratches his nose like he wants to say more but he needs a second before he goes for it. “Passed a quiz today and everything,” he finishes.
He doesn’t usually talk about his academic-related endeavors with anyone, but he’s got this feeling that you’ll be supportive. You’ve never once looked at him like he was stupid, or didn’t deserve your time.
One day towards the end of your first and only senior year, the both of you sat in the back of the class, your nose buried in a book, and Eddie had placed a finger against the page to get your attention. He’d said he wasn’t graduating, and you didn’t judge him. Maybe that’s why he’s always had this thing for you. Because you don’t think he’s this piece of shit freak.
Your grin gets bigger. It’s so much better than the sad way you looked at him the other night.
“Oh yeah? That’s so good! I’m proud of you, Eddie.”
Eddie blushes. You see it. He feels it. There’s no going around this and suddenly he’s afraid you’ll point it out.
You don’t. You just tuck that little bit of information—that Eddie seems fond of praise—away for another time.
A letter slips from your hand but Eddie is quick to catch it, before it even hits the ground.
“Sorry,” you say.
“It’s okay.” He slides it in between two other pieces of mail from the stack tucked in the crook of your arm.
The both of you stand there awkwardly then, you not knowing what to do next, Eddie realizing he didn’t really have a plan for what he was going to say when he came over here.
You turn a little, like you’re going to walk back towards your home, and Eddie freaks out inside. He doesn’t want you to go. Again. Dammit. He’s totally done for. And even Wayne had seen it, hadn’t he? Fuck.
You decide to go for it. “Do you wanna come inside for a while? I mean, of course you don’t have to, at all, but you know, if you wanted to…shit, I don’t know,” you falter. “I guess I just thought, since you’re here—”
“Sure. I mean, as long as you’re sure, but yeah,” he drags a hand over his face, lashes leaving shadows on the skin under his eyes, to hide the fact that he’s gone shy at your offer. “Yeah, I want to.”
The words hanging out flash through his mind and Eddie has the sudden urge to bang his head against a wall.
You take that as your queue, walking towards and then up your porch steps. “I’m assuming you’re following me,” you say, pulling the screen door open.
Eddie was not, in fact, following you, too off in his own world. He clambers up behind you, holding the door open above your head while you push your way inside. He pulls it shut after he steps up, watching you toss the mail on the counter and move around your home.
There’s something interesting to him about watching you like this. Where you look calm.
You flop down on the couch, patting the cushion beside you. Eddie follows your flop with an even more aggressive one, leather and chain making quite the noise as his weight settles into the sofa.
Eddie notices how quiet it is, and he can’t stand that. His brain doesn’t allow quiet.
“Your parents at work or something?” He inquires.
You move so that your back is to the arm of the couch and you’re now facing the boy you’ve just let in, pulling your legs up underneath you.
“They’re out for the weekend. Visiting in laws or something like that. I said I had too much homework to do so I could get out of it, which is true, I do have homework, I just didn’t want to go.”
Eddie shifts to mirror your position, lanky limbs splaying out a little less gracefully. He’s smiling at you again. It starts small, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“What are you smiling for, dumbass?”
He tosses his head back and your gaze falls to his neck for just a second. Though a second long enough for you to think about what it would feel like against your fingers—
He looks back at you. “Didn’t you just say you were proud of me for making an academic achievement?”
“I did. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t still a dumbass.”
Eddie snorts. “Well, at least it’s not ‘freak.’”
You cross your arms, feeling a little angry about how people have treated him in the past. “You’re not a freak.”
He scratches at his chin and you notice it looks like he might not have shaved in a few days. “Maybe in some ways I am.”
You run both hands over your face, trying to suppress the burning deep in your belly. “I bet so,” you mumble. You lower your hands just enough to look over them and Eddie quirks a brow at you.
You start to laugh behind your fingers and it makes him do the same until you’re both sitting there giggling like children over an immature joke.
“So you’re gonna be alone all weekend?” Eddie manages to ask through a breathy laugh.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s not the first time, Munson.”
Eddie is home alone all the time, but for some reason he doesn’t like the idea of you being alone like that. He wants you safe. Comfortable.
The words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Why don’t you spend the night with me?”
“Huh?”
“You know, so you don’t have to be alone and whatnot.” He gestures with his hands. He’s scrambling for even a fraction of proper brain function at this point. It’s evading him.
“Eddie.”
“Come on. You literally have to walk across the road.”
You stare at him and he stares right back. Eddie studies the lines of your face, the color of your eyes, the way you’ve got a crease between your brows because of how hard you’re thinking this over. It looks like you’re contemplating a life or death situation. That situation is Eddie. Spending the night with Eddie Munson.
“Are you sure about this? You literally watched me sob a few days ago and now you want me to just hang out in your house? I could be a murderer.”
Eddie spins the ring on his marriage finger around and around. “Are you? A murderer?”
“Not last time I checked.”
He laughs. “Then I don’t see the problem here.”
“We barely know each other.”
“How are we supposed to get to know each other if we don’t hang out? Isn’t that what sleepovers are for anyways?”
“That makes it sound like you’ve never had a sleepover before.”
Eddie pulls his knee up and rests his chin on top of it, pale skin peeking out from the tears in his jeans. “Does being too stoned to drive home and passing out on your friends couch count? Or on his bedroom floor?”
That makes you laugh and the sight of your smile makes Eddie feel exponentially better. He’s starting to think it could heal any ailment. “There she is,” he says, swatting your calf with the back of his hand. It makes you burn and you think about when you actually held his hand. You want to do it again.
You look around your living room, trying to avoid the big brown eyes you can feel boring into you. One look and you’ll give in–you just know it.
“Okay. I’ll spend the night with you.”
“Ha! I knew you’d say that.” Eddie jumps up, clearly excited. He juts out a hand in your direction and you just look at it. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head to the side.
You slip your hand into his and let him pull you up. “No more m’lady’s?” you ask.
Eddie grins brilliantly. He looks boyish, like he’s just found some new bug he needs to show you. “I’ll give you as many m’lady’s as you want. Now come on and pack your shit. We’ve got bonding to do.”
————
“Is this really necessary?”
“Lift that corner, yeah! See? You got it.” Eddie watches you step around the mess that is his bedroom floor and help him heave his mattress up off the box spring. Once you’ve got it up, he starts to walk backwards and guide the both of you—sort of blindly—down the hall. “And yes, this is completely necessary.”
“If you say so,” you grunt, almost knocking a picture frame off the wall.
“Let me live for fucks sake,” Eddie says. He’d already moved the coffee table out of the way, so you’re able to just drop the mattress on the floor in front of the couch.
Eddie stands across from you, slightly out of breath which you find a little funny. “You can go put your pajamas on if you want,” he tells you.
You grin. “Oh, can I?”
The both of you had already eaten, Eddie having ordered a pizza because there was legitimately nothing to eat anywhere. His sleepover planning was admittedly very poor. But yeah, he wanted you to go put your pjs on so he could actually do something he’d come up with.
“Yes. You can. Hurry it up m’lady, we have shit to watch.”
You give him a two finger salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Eddie waits for you to make it to his room and shut the door behind you before he gets to work. He changes the bottom sheet–the only sheet he uses because he finds top sheets obnoxious–on his mattress and shoves it in the washing machine to take care of later. He’ll probably forget and Wayne will berate him, but it’ll have been worth it.
He opens the linen closet and pulls out a new sheet and some of the others that are in there. He pulls out the best blanket for you too, the really thick one that they don’t use all that often. Eddie looks at it for just a second before tossing it on the couch, remembering the day he came to Wayne’s. The day that this became his home too. Wayne had done something similar to this, actually. He’d let Eddie sleep with him. That night had been so hard and Eddie was just a kid.
Finally he gets back to work, sheet having been changed, dining chairs moved to either side of the mattress closest to the couch.
Eddie puts one end of the sheet he’s using on the back of the sofa, stacking his D&D handbooks on top of it in hopes that it will hold. He steps back tentatively, hands up like he’s surrendering. “Stay,” he mutters, eyeing the books.
He stretches the sides of the sheet over the backs of the chairs, using chip bag clips to keep it in place. The end result is a sort of canopy over his mattress. Eddie thinks it’s one hell of a fort, actually. He’s sat on the edge, looking through a stack of VHS tapes when you come out.
Eddie looks up at you, doe eyes on full display. He looks so pretty, and even prettier when you realize what he’s made. You bring a hand up to your mouth, automatically sticking your nail just in between your lips to hide your growing smile.
Eddie thinks you look gorgeous like this: pajamas too big for you, socked feet shuffling across the floor. You look comfortable.
“Eddie.”
He stands. “You like it? I mean, it’s definitely unstable and we’re gonna have to be careful, but I think it’s kinda nice. I gotta get pillows, though.”
“I do like it,” you say, moving your hand from your face. You’re trying not to be nervous around him when he’s being so kind to you. So welcoming. “You didn’t have to do all of this just for me.”
Eddie crosses his arms. “You think I did this for you? I hate to break it to you, but I do this sort of thing all the time.” You giggle at him, seeing right through his antics. He likes that—that you don’t seem scared of him. That you don’t look at him like he’s mean.
He grabs for your sleeve where you’re tugging at a loose thread on it, trying to get you to quit from fidgeting. He knows what that feels like. But he wants you to know that it’s just him. It’s just Eddie, and you’re more than safe with Eddie, contrary to what the rest of Hawkins might think.
“I’m just kidding,” he tells you, eyes boring into yours. “I wanted to.”
You fight to keep eye contact with him. He really shouldn’t hold this kind of power, but he does.
“Thank you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, m’lady.” He bows, and you swat at his shoulder. He’s still snickering when he disappears into his room to change.
————
You hadn’t meant to match pajama bottoms, but when Eddie had seen yours, he knew he should put his similar ones on.
So now, here you sit, in your designated fort, and wearing matching plaid pants. Eddie has his arm around your shoulder, and you’ve tucked yourself into his side. Your hand keeps creeping along his stomach, and Eddie knows you're working up the courage to wrap your arm fully around his waist.
When you’d felt the weight of him settle over your shoulders, your breath had hitched, but Eddie took it in stride. “It’s just me,” he’d said. And that had seemed to calm you down.
Eddie had let you pick the movie, and you’d chosen Gremlins, which he was more than happy to watch with you. He thought watching something the both of you had already seen would not only ease some tension, but make it so that you could talk during the film if you wanted.
On the screen, Gizmo propels himself upward on a snow shovel, and you giggle at his screams as he flies through the air.
“Sorry,” you say to Eddie, chest shaking with laughter. He snorts at your hysterics.
After you’ve finally hooked your arm around him fully, and the movie is coming to an end, Eddie decides to breach the topic that’s been bugging him since that night.
“Any chance you might wanna talk about why you were so upset the other night?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped, that he hasn’t pushed too far too quickly.
You move your hand and he worries you’ll retract it completely, but you just sit up, still pressed next to him, just no longer clinging to him. You tuck your fingers under his knee where his leg is stretched out beside you. He welcomes the gesture.
“I just had an argument with my parents, is all. Got upset, but you saw that.”
He turns to look at you, and you look back for a second before continuing to watch the movie. “Was it bad?”
“Just loads of yelling, on their part. They’re very good at hurting my feelings.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and he means it. You look at him then, and you smile. It’s soft, but it tells him all he needs to know. You’re hurting, but you’re used to it. He hates that he understands.
“It’s okay. It’s just that college is hard, and then I come home and I’m tired, and then they want to fuss at me for everything and nothing. Sometimes I feel like I’m some kind of black hole or something.”
Your fingers squeeze Eddie’s knee a little. He pulls your hand from his leg and intertwines your fingers with his. There’s a little part of you that warms, that screams, hand holding, hand holding! You’re glad he’s holding your hand.
“They fucking suck for making you feel that way, you know.” That makes you grin, so Eddie keeps going. “You don’t deserve to feel that way. Not even a little bit. The entire time I’ve known you, even if we haven’t been more than acquaintances, you’ve been a sweetheart. You’ve been kind, and understanding.”
Your eyes water but you refuse to cry in front of him a second time. He’s just being so nice.
“Thank you, Eddie.” You drop your forehead against his shoulder, and he kisses your hairline. You burn at the feeling of his lips, full and warm, against your skin.
“You’re safe with me, you know. You can come over wherever you want. And we can watch Gremlins,” he finishes with a breathy laugh.
“I really appreciate that.”
Eddie looks into your eyes. There’s something sweet behind them. He nods.
“What do you wanna do when you’re done with school anyhow?” he asks, realizing a little too late that you’ve probably been asked that a hundred times, but how else is he supposed to figure out the answer.
“I’d like to write,” you tell him.
“Like, books and shit?” He’s not teasing. He’s really asking.
“That’d be nice, yeah.” It really would. The big unattainable dream.
“That’s very metal of you. Maybe I’ll get you to help me plot a campaign sometime. The stories can get a little tricky in this fucked up brain of mine,” Eddie says.
“Really?” You look excited at the idea.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The smile on his face is brilliant.
“Maybe I’ll even teach you how to play. If you want.”
“That’d be nice too, Eddie.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fluff#wayne munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson series#eddie munson angst#savannah’s fics
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Spotless: Arpeggio
Chapter Twenty
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie
Word Count: 4031
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd
A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.
Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu
Series Masterlist
Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother.
“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”
Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”
“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”
Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”
Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”
He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds.
“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”
“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”
Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.
“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”
“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand.
“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.
Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.
They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.
Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.
Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.
“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.
You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”
“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.
“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.
Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”
Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”
Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.
“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.
They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.
The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.
Holy shit, Dean had to blink.
He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”
“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.
Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack. But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.
“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”
Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.
“There he is!”
“Birthday boy!”
“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.
“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.
“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.
He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”
Everyone laughed.
“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”
“You sure?”
“I’m only six!”
“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”
“Nuh-uh!”
Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.
Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.
“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.
“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.
Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”
“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.
“Hey, Cas.”
“Happy birthday, Dean.”
Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.
“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.
The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.
Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.
“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.
Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.
You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.
“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.
Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.
Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.
In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.
They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.
Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.
Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.
Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.
Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.
Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.
“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.
“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.
“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.
“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.
“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.
“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.
“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”
Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.
He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”
“Oh— my place,” Cas said.
The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.
Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.
“How does that work?”
Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”
He just shrugged.
Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.
“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”
Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.
“Gene thing?”
“Dean—,” Pamela warned.
“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.
Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.
Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”
“Jack’s my kid, actually.”
Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”
Everyone glared at him.
“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”
Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.
Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.
“Dean,” Cas chastised.
“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”
Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.
“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”
Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.
The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.
Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.”
Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.
He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.
“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”
Dean hummed.
“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”
“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”
Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.
“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”
Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back.
He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.
Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.
“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.
“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.
“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.
“Yeah, but—”
He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him.
“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.
You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.
Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.
But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.
He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.
The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam.
Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.
And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.
Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.
“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.
Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.
Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.
Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point.
It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.
“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.
Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.
“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.
“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.
“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”
Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.
“What the—”
“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.
“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.
It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.
Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.
“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.
“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”
Sam just shook his head and grinned.
Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break.
“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.
The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.
He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.
Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”
It was Bela.
He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.
And apparently, somehow, so had you.
Fuck.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
@globetrotter28
@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
Chapter 22: Dolce
#spotless series#dean winchester fanfiction#dean/reader#dean/bela#slow burn#rockstar au#fake dating#dean fluff#dean angst
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High School Makeout Session ~ *Wakasa Imaushi*
Summary: You have a prank for Wakasa and you think it's a good one! However, he thinks you're going to splash him with water or put a spider in his hair or something... which is not going to happen at all!
Pairing: Wakasa Imaushi X G/N!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Drabble
Word Count: 876
Warning: sexual innuendos, a spider joke
Masterlist
Taglist: @soulangel
“Alright close your eyes and don’t move.”
Wakasa looked at you skeptically. “What are you playing at?”
You rolled your eyes. “Just trust me. It’s nothing bad!”
“That’s what you said last time and then you dumped a bucket of ice water on me.” He shot back. “I am not falling for this again.”
“C’mon Wakasa! Please? I promise I won’t trick you!” You made an X over your heart as you added, “I cross my heart and everything! Trust me just this once, please?”
With a growl, he closed his eyes tight. “I can’t believe I’m trusting you again. If you dump another bucket of ice water on me again, I will personally end you. And then I’ll have Shinichiro hide your body, or something. And if you did something worse, like, out a spider in my hair, I’d make Mikey hunt you for sport!”
“You’d really have your dumb friend hide my body, when we both know he could forget where he put it? Or you’d have his little obnoxious brother kill me when you can do it yourself? Yeah, that sounds like your greatest plan ever.” You rolled your eyes. While you knew he could kill you with one punch, you thought he was going a little overboard for one little prank. Besides, why would he drag Mikey into this? He had his own things to worry about.
“Yes, I would! What kind of maniac puts a spider in someone’s hair?” One of his eyes shot open. “Oh my God. You were actually going to put a spider in my hair…”
“I WAS NOT GOING TO PUT A SPIDER IN YOUR HAIR!” You hollered. “I had something much nicer in store for you, but now I’m not sure I want to give it to you anymore. You’re accusing me of doing horrible, heinous things and you’re threatening to kill me. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. You might order a hit on me no matter what I do for you.”
He sighed dramatically before closing his eyes again. “Fine, just do it. Whatever you were going to do, get it over with already. Then we’ll see if I have to call Mikey-”
Before he could finish his sentence, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Wakasa responded immediately, deeping it for only a brief second before you pulled away. He was about to start whining again when you kissed his cheek. And then his other cheek and his forehead. You peppered him in kisses, making sure every inch of his face was kissed.
When you finished, you went back to his lips and let him kiss you just as deeply as he wanted to earlier. After all the kisses you gave him, he was quick to return the favor. Kissing your cheeks and nose, he went back to attacking your lips with his. You hummed against his lips as he pulled you close by wrapping his arms around your waist. You then gasped as he nipped at your bottom lip, which allowed his tongue into your mouth. Now the two of you were full on making out.
If you didn’t know any better you would have guessed he was thinking this was better than a spider in his hair.
As the two of you continued making out, you let your hands slip up his shirt. Shivering at your contact, Wakasa let his thumbs slip under the waistband of your pants and rub circles on your hips. You gasped again, making him smile into the kiss, which was becoming more and more sensual. If the two of you didn’t stop soon, you were going to take this high school makeout session one step further…
“EW! GET A ROOM YOU TWO!” Shinichiro shouted, causing you to jump back so far, you fell off the couch you were sitting on.
“Ow.” You winced, rubbing your butt.
Shinichro just groaned. “Serves you right for sucking your boyfriend’s face in public.”
“WE’RE AT THE BIKE SHOP!”
“A PUBLIC SPACE IN THE SHOP!” He shot back.
Wakasa snickered. “Not really. It’s the back garage. Only employees and their booty calls get to see this part of the shop.”
You shot a furious glare at your boyfriend. “You did NOT just call me a booty call!”
“I- oh c’mon baby!” He whined, pulling you back on his lap. “You know you mean more to me than that.”
“I better.” You smirked and pecked his nose.
Shinichiro made a strangled sound before he said, “Now I have to go bleach my eyes. Be glad Mikey didn’t see that. He would have been traumatized!”
“He’s not a kid, Shin!” Wakasa shot back, hugging you tight.
Shinichiro just rolled his eyes before leaving the back garage. You glanced at your boyfriend before sighing and nuzzling closer to his chest. “I’m fine if we just stay like this forever. This is nice.”
“Well I’m not.” He muttered before throwing you over his shoulder. “We are going to restart that cheesy high school movie makeout session in my room, where no one is allowed in until I’m done with you.”
“Better make it worth my time, pretty boy. Especially since you called me a booty call.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN IT I SWEAR!”
#Tokyo Revengers#Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction#Tokyo Revengers Drabble#Anime#Anime Fanfiction#Anime Drabble#Black Dragons#Wakasa Imaushi#Wakasa Imaushi X Reader#Wakasa Imaushi Fanfiction#Wakasa Imaushi Drabble#Wakasa Imaushi Fluff#Wakasa#Wakasa X Reader#Wakasa Fanfiction#Wakasa Drabble#Wakasa Fluff#Drabble#Fluff#Lime
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I Know I Should Know Better 1
Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, minor Colin Shea x Female Reader
Word Count: 2,873
Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?
Warnings: Angst, adult themes, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking, sex mention, exhibitionism (from unhappy observer's POV), explicit language, bad boyfriend, self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. The reader's having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Alright you guys, prepare yourselves for a lot of angst and a sloooow burn. The focus and goal of this story is definitely Curtis x Reader, but as it starts, Colin x Reader is the actual couple. This first part is in Curtis’s pov, but the plan is to alternate povs by chapter.
I hope you love this Curtis as much as I do. If you could let me know what you think with a comment or reblog, I'd appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading, lovelies! 💜
Curtis hated this job.
The sounds of lewd moans and the repeated banging of a headboard hitting the wall filtered through the bedroom door into the common area of the large hotel suite. The new guy, Jensen, shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the small bar off the kitchenette, his eyes frequently cutting to the bedroom door.
“Just ignore it. It’s none of our business.” Curtis growled from his place at the island.
“Right. Sure,” Jensen nodded and just kept looking towards the room. Curtis rolled his eyes. He’d get used to it.
The stylist and hair and makeup people were already set up in the 2nd bedroom. They’d been due to start 20 minutes ago. Michelle, your assistant, came careening out of that room and stopped dead in the center of the living room, locking eyes with Curtis. “We don’t have time for this!” she pleaded with him.
Curtis sighed and nodded and walked over to the bedroom. He banged on the door three times with the side of his fist bellowing, “Time to get going!” He really hated this job.
“What the fuck???” cried a masculine voice from inside, quickly followed by your own uncontrollable giggles.
Five minutes later, you finally came out dressed in a robe from the hotel, your hair all over the place. A man followed you, dressed only in his boxers. Colin. He’d been around for a few months. He was a rockstar, but in Curtis’s opinion, everyone was using that term loosely. He was in a band that was working on its sophomore album. Curtis only knew this because the guy wouldn't shut up about it. He wasn’t any worse than the other fuck boys you usually dated, but he certainly wasn’t the best of them either. Colin collapsed onto one of the loveseats, legs spread wide, and helped himself to the fresh fruit that was laid out on the coffee table.
“Ok!” you said when you got to the center of the room, hands on your hips, megawatt smile fully on display. It was always so blinding, even when he was annoyed with you, like now. “Where am I needed?”
“Go in there, please!” Michelle pointed. “We’re running so late!”
You just laughed. “Which is why you always build extra time into the schedule. Calm down, we’re fine.”
Curtis walked over to Colin and nudged one of his shoes with his own foot to get his attention. “Get dressed,” he growled. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Oh! He’s coming with us,” you said, just as you disappeared into the room, Michelle right on your heels.
Colin smirked obnoxiously up at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m coming with you.”
“Fine,” Curtis gritted out. “I assume you’ll be wearing clothes when we leave?”
Colin stood up and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Curty boy, I’ll get myself all pretty for you” and then went back into the main bedroom.
Curtis ran his hands down his face and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to calm himself. He hated this job. Maybe it was time to get into corporate security. Anything had to be better than this.
As he was thinking, Jensen cleared his throat behind him. “Is it always like this?”
“Yes,” he growled out without turning around, and then went to get an updated ETA from Michelle.
Curtis had been with you for almost two years now. Your team had brought him on during the stalking incident at the MTV Movie Awards. That situation had luckily been resolved quickly, but he'd stayed on after.
On paper, the job was simple. Keep the house secure. Make sure strangers don't get close enough to touch you. Keep your parents as far away from you as possible. Always know the exits. Easy enough.
And he’d been surprised to find that he actually liked you. Outside of the clubs and parties, the VIP sections and private rooms. When you were easier to imagine as just a normal person. You weren’t as entitled as he’d expected. You worked hard and seemed to want to do a good job, even if you couldn’t keep to a schedule to save your life. Sometimes he felt like the wild streak was just something you put on, an obligation. But that was a ridiculous observation. He just worked for you. He didn’t actually know you.
So it’d been a good job for a while, but at some point the balance between wild child and committed actress started to shift. And with that, the hours got longer, the entourage got bigger, the parties got wilder. The fuck boys got worse. It was taking its toll on him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.
Curtis was standing in the green room of the talk show, watching your interview on the large TV mounted on one wall. Tanya, your publicist, stood near him, her arms crossed and brow furrowed as she watched, while Michelle sat on the couch, going through emails, and Colin parked himself in front of the food that had been laid out, now on his third beer.
“She’s stiff,” Tanya remarked to no one in particular.
“Yeah, cause you wouldn’t let her have any of that,” Colin said, gesturing with a piece of meat in his hand to the ice bucket full of alcoholic drinks on the coffee table. Tanya had instituted a strict ‘no substances before interviews’ policy after the last time you’d done Kimmel and the interview had gotten a little too loose.
“She’s doing fine,” Michelle said, without looking up from her computer, but Curtis had to agree with Tanya. You did seem stiff. Uncomfortable. But he knew it had more to do with the current topic than any external factors. They’d dedicated an entire segment to the show you were on as a kid. It’s what made you famous. You never really talked about it. Didn’t seem to like to, but it almost always came up in interviews. Sometimes you laughed through it and it was fine, but other times it was more like what was happening now. He wouldn’t say that he knew or understood you, but he could read you and right now he could see, under your smiles and giggles that would fool anyone who didn’t spend their days watching you, that you were coming apart at the seams. He prepped a text to Jensen, telling him to pull the car around and saved it so all he’d have to do was hit send. Then he just waited for the interminable interview to end, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched you put all your energy into just getting through it.
Finally the conversation wrapped up and the host threw to a commercial after announcing the next guest. Curtis sent the text, grabbed a bottle of water from the ice bucket, and was already almost through the door and into the hallway when Colin exclaimed, “What the fuck?! She was supposed to mention my tour!”
Curtis was sure there was some sort of reaction to that, but he wasn’t around to see it because you were already coming around the corner, being led by a PA. You locked eyes with him and as soon as you were close enough for him to hear, you whispered, “Get me the fuck out of here.” He nodded and herded you down the hall, around several corners, until you got to a little enclave under a set of stairs with several plush armchairs.
“Jensen’s bringing the car around,” he said gently, handing you the water bottle he’d been holding. “We can go out the back way. But I figured you might want a few minutes by yourself first.” You nodded absently, clutching the bottle of water in both hands. “I’ll leave you alone, but I’ll be just over there if–”
“Can you stay?” you interrupted, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.
Surprised, he asked, “You want me to?”
You nodded again and said softly, “Please.”
“Ok. Of course I’ll stay.”
You just stood there for a moment, gazing down the dark hallway in front of you before you finally said, “I don’t get why they always have to ask about it. It ended over ten years ago. Like, who fucking cares? And the show was shit anyway.”
Curtis just stood and watched you, not sure what you wanted him to say, if anything at all.
“Like, I was a kid. I wasn’t even any good, you know? I’m just so fucking tired of talking about it. I don’t know why anyone wants to talk about it. It’s not like I have any good stories. Nothing good happened.” You seemed to catch yourself there and cut a wary glance to Curtis then shook your head. “I told Tanya that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. That I wouldn’t answer any more questions. And she said that was ‘unrealistic,’ so here we are.”
Curtis let the silence carry for a moment, making sure you had nothing else to say, then, softly, "I'm really sorry you have to do that. That isn’t fair to you."
You looked up at him at that, something akin to shock on your face and you shook your head at him. “What? No. No, It’s fine. I’m– I’m being dumb. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just being ridiculous. Like always.”
He really hated it when you did that, wormed your way in and made him feel deep, unrelenting empathy for you. It’d been happening more and more often lately. He needed to get out. “I don’t think you’re being ridiculous.”
You just stared at him for several moments and for the first time in ages, he couldn’t read what was on your face. Finally, you shook yourself out of whatever had been happening and said, “We should really get going, shouldn’t we? Can we go? I’m just making everyone wait, like usual."
His hands itched to reach out to you, touch you, but you didn't need that right now. Maybe not ever. Not from him. So instead he nodded and said, "Yeah, we can go," letting Jensen and Michelle know you were on your way.
"You're such a fucking asshole!" you yelled in the alley behind a club in West Hollywood, hours later. You were drunk. Very drunk. Curtis really hated this job.
"I didn't do anything!" Colin threw his arms up in exasperation.
"She was in your fucking lap!"
Curtis was standing by the door for now, hoping he wouldn't have to hold you back. Or, he thought, as he watched you sway dangerously, hold you up.
“She just sat down. What was I supposed to do? Push her off?”
“You certainly weren’t supposed to put your arms around her!” You were getting really worked up now and Curtis readied himself to intervene. Jensen was supposed to be bringing the car. Where the fuck was he?
“I was being nice to a fan!” Colin shouted when Curtis saw a light out of the corner of his eye at the mouth of the alley. When he turned to look, there was a man standing there with his phone out. Shit.
He walked along the wall of the building, trying not to draw attention to himself. Luckily you and Colin were providing plenty of distraction so he was able to get close and snatch the phone away before the man noticed him there.
“Hey!” he shouted. “That’s my personal property! You can’t do that.”
“Uh huh,” Curtis said as he stopped and permanently deleted the current video and went back into the man’s photos to check for anything else. There were two more videos and a smattering of pictures. He’d gotten the whole fight. You did not need that all over the internet tomorrow. He deleted it all and then handed the phone back to the man who’d been yelling and swearing the whole time. Curtis pulled himself up to his full height and loomed over him, then said, “I better not see you again. You have a good night.” He glared and waited for the man to back down and walk away then headed back to you. You and Colin were still screaming at each other, but the topic seemed to have shifted.
“You’re so fucking selfish, you know that?” Colin yelled at you. “I ask for one thing and you can’t even do that.”
“It was my job! I was there to promote my movie, not your failing tour!”
“You’re a fucking bitch,” Colin said, as Jensen finally pulled up in the SUV. Thank god, because every muscle in Curtis’s body wanted to lay the asshole out flat, and if he’d had to wait one more moment for the car, he might have.
“Hey!” Curtis yelled. “That’s enough!” he said to Colin and then turned to you. “Are you ok?” You nodded, but brushed a tear away. Fucking asshole. Keeping his eyes on you he asked, “We’re going now. Is he coming with us?”
“No!” you snarled. “Definitely not.” He nodded and opened the back door of the car.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” Colin pouted. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t care!” You yelled over your shoulder as you got in the car. “Get a goddamn Uber!”
Curtis was about to check in with you one more time, but you’d already slid to the other side of the car and were now staring out the window, so he shut the door and got into the front seat with Jensen.
You were quiet on the hour long drive back to your house. Curtis looked back frequently to make sure you hadn’t passed out, but you were just staring out the window as the city zoomed by. He let you be while he conversed softly with Jensen about the rest of the night and the agenda for tomorrow.
When they got to your house and Curtis opened the car door for you, you looked up at him, surprised. “Hey,” he said quietly, “we’re here.”
You didn’t really respond, just kept looking at him for a few minutes. Then your gaze shifted to your back door and your lip quivered. “You’re coming in, right?”
He stifled a sigh. He was really hoping he’d be able to get away with just dropping you off tonight, maybe doing a quick walk-through to convince you all was well and then finally taking off. It’d been such a long day. But instead, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m coming in.”
Jensen poked his head out the driver’s side window as Curtis helped you out. “Do you want me to wait?” he asked.
Curtis shook his head. “No, it’s late. You go ahead and put the car away and take off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jensen nodded and gave him a quick wave.
Curtis guided you inside and turned on the lights. He checked your security panel to make sure everything was as it should be and then guided you to the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” he asked and you nodded. He wasn’t used to you being this quiet and it was throwing him off.
He went to the fridge and pulled out one of the dinners your housekeeper had left for you. He threw it in your microwave and then grabbed you a glass of water.
“I’m so tired,” you said.
“I know,” he said, “you can eat this and then go right to bed.”
“No,” you shook your head, “that’s not–” You frowned but didn’t say anything else, just placidly looked around yourself.
The microwave beeped and he took your food out, putting the dish and a fork in front of you.
Staring into your living room, you said, “I kind of hate this house.”
He had no idea what to say to that. He looked through your open plan first floor. Everything was gray and glass. Fresh flowers on multiple surfaces made it seem slightly less empty, but he’d always thought it felt cold. Cavernous. “You could move.”
You just hummed and turned to your food. You ate a few bites and drank some water. Just as he was gearing up to tell you goodnight and get out of there, you looked him dead in the eye and said “I think you might be the only person who actually cares what I want.”
The shock that flooded his system must have registered on his face, because you immediately started backpedaling. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so out of it. Just ignore me. I’m fine. Just ignore me.” He whispered your name and you shook your head. “No, you’re right. I should go to bed. I’m sorry. Goodnight Curtis.” And with that you got up and went upstairs to your bedroom, leaving him dumbfounded, standing alone in the middle of your kitchen.
After a few minutes he pulled himself together, put your leftovers in the fridge and your glass in the dishwasher. He turned off all the lights and let himself out.
He paused on your step and leaned his head against your door.
He really fucking hated this job.
But he knew he’d never be able to quit.
Part Two
#curtis everett x reader#bodyguard!curtis#bodyguard!curtis everett x actress!reader#curtis everett x you#curtis everett x female reader#curtis everett#snowpiercer#fanfic#bodyguard au#series#i know i should know better#kris wrote something#reader insert#chris evans#cevans
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secreto de amor IV
chapter 4! chapter 3 here, chapter 2 here!
your car was in the shop for a few more weeks until it was ready to be on the road again. because you were excited to finally have your car back, sasha wanted you to take her to the mall since she hasn’t seen you in a while. sasha was another friend of jean’s but she was closer in age to you than any others, plus you enjoyed her more than the others too.
“y/n~when’s the next time you work?” sasha asked you as the two of you walked around the mall with ice cream.
“friday, why?” sasha groaned obnoxiously.
“i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with me to a party.”
“a party?” you weren’t a party person at all and she knew that so you didn’t know why she was asking.
“i mean not a party but like.. a kickback! not a lot of people will be there so you’d be fine.”
“you know i don’t do people…”
“i know but i wanna get you out there! somewhere other than sticking under jean all the time—“
“i don’t stick under jean all the time. i just like to be at home, where i’m comfortable.”
“you like to be anywhere jean is because you know that’s when you’ll be safe. but he’s not gonna be everywhere girl. live a little!”
“i have all my life to live. i’m only 18.”
“yeah but you should start now! just come with me please?”
“i don’t get off til 10 friday. do i have to stay the whole time?”
“we can stay if you’re having fun, we can leave if you don’t. we can ride together.” it sounded tempting but you knew how sasha could be when it came to going out and partying.
you were hesitant but answered anyways. “okay.. but we’re taking my car. so i can leave yo ass if you get outta line.”
“that’s fine. your brother is gonna beat my ass anyways if anything happens to you.”
after that conversation, the two of you walked and shopped some more before leaving. you dropped sasha off at her apartment before arriving to the apartment that you stayed in with jean.
“have fun?” jean was in the kitchen cooking something that caught your attention before you could see.
“yeah.. what you cooking?”
“shrimp alfredo.” you started to make a face because he knew you were allergic to seafood before jean clarified what you were seeing. “no i’m not trying to kill you. there’s a pot of chicken alfredo for you over there.” you smiled as you made yourself a plate.
“thank you johnny~” you grabbed the plate and started to walk to your room with it but jean stopped you.
“you’re welcome— where you going, miss lady?”
“to my room?”
“uh no? we gotta talk. seriously.” you turned around to walk to the kitchen and sat at the island with jean.
“what did you wanna talk about?” you knew what he was gonna talk to you about.
“i know you’re going to the party friday.”
“um.. okay? how?”
“i know everything. look, i just wanted to make sure you know what to do and how to handle yourself. i’m not gonna be there to protect you.”
you rolled your eyes. “sasha said it’s not a party—“
“see? fucking up already. if it’s an event in which there’s drinking, smoking, and people, then it’s a party.”
“okay, fine. whatever, i’m not gonna stay long anyways.”
he smiled. “good. i don’t wanna have to go to jail for some bitch boys on my day off.” you laughed as you finished your food.
“you won’t have to.” jean got up and threw away his empty plate and took yours too.
“i don’t mind. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” jean’s words lingered in your mind and you were having second thoughts about going to the party. it was the first one you’ve been to and it really wouldn’t be good if something serious happened. you didn’t wanna worry jean but you also wanted to do something different.
in the end, you decided to go and hoped for the best
#aot#aot x reader#black reader#aot x black reader#connie springer#aot connie#connie springer x black reader
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Hello! Can I ask for gallavich + 47? Thank you :)
Hi!! I too am fueled by spite so this was a very fun prompt to fill.
47. ...out of spite
Mickey only hears the conversation by accident.
It’s early. Way too fucking early to be awake, but he’d reached up to grab at Ian’s big warm arm and his fingers had met nothing but cold empty sheets and the jolt of panic he’d felt had been enough to have him stumbling up and out and down the hall.
The panic is receding a bit now, with Ian’s voice floating up the stairs. There’s other noises, too. The coffee maker burbling, dishes clinking, the fridge rattling as it’s opened and closed, but all Mickey is focused on is ian ian ian.
The panic ebbs out to a low grade hum. It never goes away completely. Probably never will.
Mickey sighs, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand, the other one still clutching the stair railing so hard his knuckles are white.
Slowly, the actual words Ian’s saying start to filter through.
“–is that supposed to mean? Of course he’s good for me. He’s the only reason I came back in the first place!”
There’s the sound of someone slurping obnoxiously. Probably Lip drinking his fucking coffee. He always slurps when he drinks coffee. “He’s also the reason you left, so.”
“Fuck off, Lip.”
“Seriously?” Fiona scoffs, faucet squeaking as she shuts off the water, “That’s why you disappeared out of the fucking blue?”
Oh.
Mickey twists his lips. Debates just turning around and going back to sleep. It’s too fucking early for this shit.
“I left for a lot of reasons, okay?”
“Ian. Sweetcheeks. I’m just worried about you. We’re all worried about you–”
“Well, maybe everyone should be more worried about you.”
“Ian!”
“He’s got a point.”
“Who’s fucking side are you on, Lip?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side. Jesus.” Another obnoxious slurp. “And keep your fucking voices down, you’re gonna wake up the kids.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Ian snarks, “Liam hasn’t been sleeping very well. Wonder why that is.”
“Ian. Please. I just want what’s best for you.”
“Mickey is what’s best for me.”
“Seriously?” Fiona laughs, and Mickey would probably be more offended if he hadn’t nearly blurted out the same thing.
He swipes at his nose. Shoots a longing glance down the hall behind him, towards his little makeshift nest on the floor made of blankets and pillows that smell like Ian. Shoots a longing glance down the stairs in front of him, towards Ian. He sighs again. Sits on the top step. Tunes back into Fiona’s tirade.
“He’s a thug–”
“–you just got out of jail.”
“He’s a highschool drop-out–”
“–we’re all highschool dropouts.”
“He’s a Milkovich–”
“–oh, because being a Gallagher is so much better?”
“He can barely even stand to touch you–”
“–trust me, he touches me plenty.”
“In private,” Fiona presses, pitching her voice louder over the sound of Lip snorting and nearly choking to death on his coffee. “The moment you guys are around other people he acts like you’re radioactive fucking waste.”
“Jesus, Fi, can you blame him for not wanting people to find out–?”
“But we already know! He knows that we know. And he knows damn well that Gallaghers don’t snitch.”
Mickey gnaws on his lower lip, eagerly awaiting Ian’s snarky comeback.
It never comes.
“Ian, sweetie,” Fiona says, voice soft again, “I’m just worried you’re getting too attached.”
Say something.
“I’m– Ian, I’m sorry, but I think you're reading signs you hope are there, instead of the signs that actually are there.”
C’mon, Ian, fucking say something.
“I just… don’t think he’s as into you as you're into him.”
Ian finally says something.
“Yeah,” he says.
Mickey blinks. His mouth drops open. His brows scrunch together.
“I really am sorry, sweetheart–”
“No, it’s.” There’s the sound of Ian taking in a shuddery breath, followed by a deep sigh. “You might be right.”
Jesus fucking christ.
Mickey hauls himself up. Stomps down the stairs. Hears Lip mutter ‘oh shit’ before he’s even in view.
By the time Mickey reaches the base of the stairs they’re all looking at him with wide eyes. Lip sitting at the table, Fiona standing by the sink, Ian leaning against the fridge.
“Mickey!” Ian says, voice painfully faux-cheery, “I– um, good morning, when did you wake u–”
“Shut up,” Mikey bites out. He plants himself right in front of Ian. Jabs a finger hard against his chest. “You must be the stupidest goddamn fucker on the planet.”
Ian’s strained smile drops.
“Hey!” Fiona protests, but Mickey ignores her.
He forcefully reminds himself of what happened the last time he was too much of a fucking coward. Swallows down the nerves dread don’t bubbling up his throat and fizzing through his veins.
His hands are shaking, just a bit.
He brings them up, uses one to shove Ian back against the fridge and the other to fist in Ian’s hair, yanks down his head enough so Mickey doesn’t have to go up on his fucking tippytoes like some bitch.
Ian makes this surprised little sound when their lips collide. Which actually works out great, because it gives Mickey the opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth.
Mickey can feel the tension seeping out of Ian. That shocked little noise morphs into a deep groan. Ian’s big hands clamp down on Mickey’s hips hard enough to bruise.
“Woah, okay, that is way more than I need to see,” Lip announces, punctuated by the sound of his chair scraping harshly against the floor. “I’m gonna go ahead and finish my coffee somewhere else. Preferably somewhere very far away.”
Mickey grins into the kiss. Relishes in momentary victory. Two down, one to go.
He pulls back, their lips making a positively indecent sound as they part. Mickey huffs when Ian tries to trail after him. Uses the grip on his hair to keep him at bay.
Mickey turns his head just enough to cock a pointed brow at Fiona. “That enough touching for you? Or should I go all out and bend over the kitchen table for him?”
Ian makes a strangled sound. His hands spasm on Mickey’s hips. He yanks Mickey closer, so Mickey can better appreciate the way he’s grown hard as a rock, the way his dick is pressing perfectly up against Mickey’s own.
Fiona rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay, alright, you’ve made your point.” She brushes past them. Pauses just before disappearing up the stairs to look back at them with a solemn, serious expression. Locks eyes with Mickey. “I really, genuinely hope I’m wrong about you.”
Mickey swallows hard. Stares after her as she retreats.
He hopes so, too.
His grip on Ian tightens, then loosens. Ian seizes the opportunity to surge forward and latch onto Mickey’s neck like a fucking leech.
“Jesus, firecrotch,” Mickey hisses.
Ian hums. Smears a smile against Mickey’s skin. Nips at Mickey’s ear. “So…” he hedges, grinding their hips together again, “How serous were you about letting me fuck you on the kitchen table?”
Fuck.
Maybe Mickey is a bad influence on Ian afterall.
send me a number~
#prompt games#gallavich#my scribblings#this happened in canon i know it did i was there i was watching them through the window#fun and only vaguely related mechy fact: i ONLY passed 7th grade out of spite. i was absolutely going to be held back a year#then one of my teachers made a comment about me being dumb the day before final exams and when i tell you i ACED that shit#highest score in the class#only missed ONE question and it was because i filled in the wrong bubble on the scantron#very shameless coded imo#spite is such an amazing motivator
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Bad For Business
paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader
summary ✦ Bella and you work together. Forming a close friendship, spending so much time together. As your feelings for Bella grow you become distracted while filiming. Staying up late and showing up to work late. What happens when a producer notices? You confront Bella with your true feelings. Inspired by Bad For Business - Sabrina Carpenter
word count ✦ 900ish
authors note ✦ not me posting at a reasonable time and not three in the morning this kinda short but it’s cute lol
masterlist
Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡
⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
“I know everyone sees it. He’s going to be the death of me.” You sigh mid rant to your closest friend on set, Sara.
“You’re crazy.” She laughs.
“Because of him! He’s so good for my heart but bad for business.” You respond heated. Taking a bite into the lunch they serve on set today. Only causing Sara to laugh harder than before.
“You don’t know him the way I do, you wouldn’t get it.”
“Yeah I don’t. You two work all day side by side then hang out all night? That’s your excuse for being late?” She asks reiterating the staring point of your rant.
“It’s a never ending cycle. Bella has broken into my head. That’s why I’m never paying attention and forgetting lines I swear he does it on purpose. Sending me winks and smiles when it’s my turn to say my lines.”
“Girl you have all this pent up frustration. You need to tell Bella how you feel, let the frustration out."
“What if they don’t feel the same way? Then I’m stuck working with him for a few more weeks.” You respond, have played this scenario a bajillion times before out in your head.
“You’ll never know it until you try.” Sara says with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Actually now that I’m thinking about it I’ve never been so glad to be exhausted. I’ll just get used to not getting to work on time. It’s fine.”
“Yeah until some takes notice and you get talked to.”
Sara was correct because when the final scene for the day was done filming one of the film producers asks you to follow them to their office. Your sat opposite of them at their desk waiting for them to speak.
“Don’t worry your not in trouble.” She says and you breath finally.
“We’re just worried about you.” Her face falls filled with concern.
“You’ve been late nearly everyday. You seem distracted when we’re filming. Is everything okay?”
“I’ve just been struggling to get any sleep. I think it’s just hard for my body to get used to this new work schedule and environment.” You say, coming up with this white lie on the spot.
“That’s understandable. We just really need you to be on your a-game.”
“I will make an effort to get to bed early tonight.” Bella hadn’t asked you to han yet so maybe you could actually attempt this.
“We’re giving you tomorrow off. Consider it a mental health day. Gets some rest, come back refreshed. Okay?”
“Will do.” You smile before she excuses you.
Your walking out of the office towards your trailer. Praying that you don’t bump into Bella. You make it inside your trailer with out being caught. Your busy undressing and getting your things ready to go when there’s an obnoxious knock at the door. A knock you’ve grown to recognize by the best they use every time. You can’t get the door fully open before Bella lets them self in.
“My hotel or yours tonight?” Bella leans against the counter.
“Can’t tonight.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.
“Why not?”
“Because I just can’t.”
“Can’t what?” He asks, pushing your buttons knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of you.
“Oh my god Bella. I can’t stay up all night with you. I got called into the office and told off about how I’ve been late to work all week, can’t even pay attention when we’re filming together.” You say, it coming out more annoyed than you had wanted.
“And that’s my fault how?” You only roll your eyes in response, shoving your belongings into your back pack.
“Please talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” Bella says, you stop what your doing to look at him. His big brown doe like eyes on full display making you fold. You knew for a fact that he knew the power of his gaze constantly using it against you. You groan out loud at him knowing where this is headed.
“I used to get to work on time until you starting taking up my nights. I’m mad for you.”
“Mad for me?” Bella questions, face filled with confusion.
“I’ve been trying to fight these feelings for you.”
“Feelings for me? Pfft no way.” Bella crosses his arms across his chest, not believing you in the slightest.
“We look so good together and I like the way you love to laugh at my dirty jokes. I know they’ll always land with you. I’ve never been so glad to be so tired. You’re so nice it’s bad. You’ll be the death of me at this rate and I have absolutely no desire to stop you.” You spill your guts to Bella and he doesn’t respond. Only looks at you like your crazy.
“Ok that’s why I didn’t want to do that. ” You zip up your back pack ready to rush out of here.
“Wait no I like you too. I just was not expecting all that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah why do you think I’m always looking for any excuse to hang out. Or fucking up the scenes were together in. So I can be with you longer.” Bella admits.
“I knew you were doing that shit on purpose.” You smile bashfully shaking your head pretending to be annoyed.
#bella ramsey x you#bella ramsey fluff#bella ramsey#bella ramsey tlou#bella ramsey edit#bella ramsey x reader#bella ramsey imagine#bella ramsey oneshot#bella ramsey pov
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Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 14 - Sleepover▸Shigaraki x femReader
Chapter Summary:
◤“Yeah?” You can’t help but fidget anxiously with the top part of your jacket.
“No goodbye kiss?” he smirks, closing the distance.
You immediately scowl. “Don’t be gross.”
He still grabs your chin and you try to pull away, but he uses his other hand to cup the side of your head, fingertips running through the roots of your hair and holds you in place for him.
The bastard really did think this was a date after all.
Fuck’s sake. ◢
Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count)
Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Very Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ???
Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags
TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Past Child Abuse, Bullying, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.
AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics
Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight • Nine • Ten(ko) • Eleven • Twelve • Thirteen • Fourteen • Fifteen
Updates every Monday!
Chapter 14 - Sleepover
He drums his fingers against the metal surface of the table and decides to get up.
You remain seated.
“No? The fuck you mean ‘we’re going back to your place’?” you mock him, doing obnoxious air quotation marks with your fingers as you feel your blood pressure rapidly increasing.
He glares at you in return, scratching at his neck for the second time today.
“You’re coming to my place and you’re staying over,” he mumbles, as if him repeating the same string of delusional words would make it any more understandable to you.
“I’m—huh? What?!” You slowly get out of your chair, grabbing your jacket off the backrest and your phone from the table, then carefully back away from him.
“Why are you acting all stupid again? I don’t fucking understand.” He frowns and you notice his fist clenching and unclenching at his side.
Is he being for real right now?
“Oh, you don’t understand? Okay, let me paint a pretty picture for you, Shigaraki,” you say, crossing your arms defensively. “I spent the entire fucking week following you around and absolutely humiliating myself in front of the whole university—again. I’m not about to fucking go sleep in your bed like we’re a couple of besties or—God forbid like a—” you gag, unable to speak the thought out loud.
Shigaraki, who looked absolutely bewildered that you would still dare, began visibly shaking. The scratching on his neck intensifies.
“How many times do I have to drill into your thick—fucking—skull, that you do whatever the fuck I tell you to? Why do you force me to have to rip you apart so you’ll listen?!” he growls, getting so close he now towered over you before continuing, “I’ve been nothing but fucking nice to you today.”
You glance around nervously at the other clients and at the worried employees, swiftly deciding that you’ll definitely never show up to eat here ever again.
When you look back at him, his brows are scrunched and his lips pull back. You watch him take a reeeally deep breath and close his eyes in contemplation.
When he opens them again, he’s a completely different person.
“Okay,” he says flatly, relaxing back into his usual bored look, shoulders dropping together with the hand that was assaulting his neck.
“Ooookay?” You raise a brow, clutching your belongings tightly to your chest, still wary of a potential violent outburst and hoping he has some decency not to strike your face in front of other people.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll drive you home.”
He shoots an arm out to grab his keys from the table impatiently and you flinch, only remembering the burn of your cheek after he hit you at the party.
His eyes narrow in response, but he doesn't comment otherwise, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you out of the establishment.
The drive home is really quiet, save for the occasional drumming of his fingers against his wheel and your anxiety fueled careful-breathing. You were clutching your school bag close to your chest.
Was that it or was he plotting to do something fucked up to you again? You look outside the window to calm yourself, watching the evening scenery quickly pass you by.
It’s dark already, around 8 PM when you go ahead and check your phone. Winter made everything seem more bleak, even the darkness over the city itself. It felt detached but comforting, in a way.
Like he was your charon, taking you on your final trip to hell.
When he pulls up in front of your street, you mumble a quick ‘thanks’ and hurry the fuck up to get out and leave. To your dissatisfaction, you hear his side of the door open as well and you sigh, turning back to him with a look.
“Yeah?” You can’t help but fidget anxiously with the top part of your jacket.
“No goodbye kiss?” he smirks, closing the distance.
You immediately scowl. “Don’t be gross.”
He still grabs your chin and you try to pull away, but he uses his other hand to cup the side of your head, fingertips running through the roots of your hair and holds you in place for him.
The bastard really did think this was a date after all.
Fuck’s sake.
“Do not kiss me.” Your eyes dart away from his face.
“Why not? I know you wanted it too. At the party. Before the party.” He brushes your lip with his thumb and you stare at him. “C’mon. Just once,” he lies to you, the rasp in his voice hauntingly soft.
“Stockholm syndrome victims also end up wanting to fuck their captors. We both know I’m extremely fucked in the head, so what? It’s a no.”
His breath hitches.
“You want to fuck me?” His tongue flicks over his dry lower lip and the glint of mischief in his eyes is rendering you momentarily speechless. Of course he’d focus on the wrong fucking thing.
“Y-You fucking know what I meant,” you only manage to whisper, when he bends down and nuzzles the side of your face, making your skin prickle and your breath stutter. You’re currently unable to decide which one you hated more—his anger and control issues or you finding him disgustingly attractive.
“Do I?” Shigaraki rasped against your ear, forcing a shudder out of you. “See? Give yourself to me. I’ll be so fucking good to you.”
"I mean… it's not like I'm in any position to refuse you, right?"
"Don't spin it like that." Shigaraki pulls back and frowns.
"Then how should I spin it? I say no and you still do what you want. How's this time any different?"
He looks away with a pout—a pout?!—and mumbles, "It's more fun when you're into it."
Your jaw drops. He’s sulking! Was this man ever serious?
You close your eyes and take a moment to compose yourself, before your fuse blows up in his face and he gets mad again.
What the fuck do you do now?
Do you lie and promise him a later time? Do you give in and go through another spiel of pleasing your toxic new owner? Would he hit you again if you said no? Would he employ more scare-tactics? Lose his patience?
You feel tears burning at the corner of your eyes but you force that feeling back, back, back, until it’s all the way up on your tower of sorrows.
When you open your eyes and look into his red ones, half of his face being cast into a soft shadow from the glow of a yellow street lamp nearby, you see possible conflict painted on his face.
You place your hands firmly against his chest and shake your head.
“Goodnight, Shigaraki.”
He reluctantly lets you go, gaze half lidded, and doesn’t say anything, surprisingly unphased by your rejection.
Unphased, because three minutes into your walk towards the entrance of your building, you realize the asshole wouldn’t stop following behind you.
You seethe at him through gritted teeth, stomping your way home. “Any chance I’ve miraculously shifted timelines, and you’re only being a gentleman who’ll be fucking off the moment I get inside?”
“Nope.”
“Unbelievable,” you growl and he shrugs despite your back being turned to him. “We are not fucking tonight. Is that clear?”
“Does that mean we’re fucking another time?” You heard him snicker a few steps behind you.
“No! It fucking means—It means that you stalking me all the way to my home and forcing your way into staying over will not result in getting your dick wet, now or ever. Fucking asshole.” You wipe away at your welling tears of frustration.
He’s so incredibly overwhelming, you just needed a break. One fucking weekend!
Was it too much to ask for?!
Shigaraki doesn’t reply, opting to just silently trudge behind you, hands in the pockets of his pants as you unlock the door to your building.
He glances at you holding the door open, urging him to fucking hurry when you see him take his phone out and typing something on his phone before following you in.
“I’m gonna shower,” you announced resignedly, dropping your school bag right at the entrance and throwing your shoes haphazardly on the floor. He watches you for a second and proceeds to literally copy you.
“Can I watch?”
“For free? No way.”
You throw the jacket on the floor, pull the top over your head and take off your pants, completely ignoring him as you leave your usual trail of clothes on the way to your bedroom, still having the decency of keeping your underwear on. It felt chilly in your apartment so you hurried on.
Tomura froze on your doorstep, swallowing hard, deep red eyes following your form.
Why the fuck were you casually undressing in front of him like this, right after telling him off multiple times earlier? Were you teasing him on purpose or are you seriously that much of a fucking bimbo?
He hears your bedroom door creak open and snaps out of it, eagerly following behind you, kicking piles of random things out of his way.
“Does that mean you’d let me if I pay for it?” he asks, trying to play into it, voice trembling despite him trying his best to act natural.
He knows you despised the idea of him forcing himself on you—fucking obviously—and he also hasn’t made any real moves to force you more than he had to.
But this?
This was utterly unprompted. He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t expect this.
Did you not know he wasn’t completely beyond the idea of branding you to him and making you into a trembling mess—his trembling mess—with or without your ‘consent’? Did you forget who he was?
Did you?
Tomura had to even his breaths out and reframe your casual openness as a sign of progress instead of another opportunity for him to use you. It was admittedly a really hard thing to do, but you looked none the wiser.
“Depends. You got a million dollars to spare?” You turn and give him a sly smile—one that had his breath get fucking caught in his throat, but it falls when you see his owlish eyes locked-in on you, making you flustered instead. “If you keep fucking staring at my tits like that, I’ll need a down payment.”
How could he fucking forget? He’s seen them so many times before.
All the times he fucked himself into his fist after he’s gotten his hands on your dirty videos, imagining it was him pounding into you, humiliating you, hurting you, and not your lowlife of an ex.
That was, before he learned he liked you.
There was no lust clouding his red eyes anymore, so he proceeded to ask the question you’ve always dreaded to answer.
“Why—What happened for you to…The scars. Why do you have so many?” he says in a gravelly tone and frowns.
You can’t help but roll your eyes.
“What about you?” you question him right back, “Why do you have yours?” You quirk a brow, turning your back to him while grabbing a towel and spare clothes. When you face him again, he looks tense but still doesn’t reply to your question. “Figures.”
Shigaraki clicks his tongue in disapproval and hesitantly walks forward, but you immediately put a hand in front of you, creating an invisible border between the two of you. “Don’t. We’re not doing this right now.”
It works, because he stops dead in his tracks like a deer in headlights, and for once this week, he watches you walk around him without doing anything about it.
“You can shower after me!” you yell from the bathroom, dropping your underwear on the rest of the dirty pile on the floor and making a mental note to move them before he comes in, lest he gets the bright idea of stealing a pair.
But Tomura was glued to where you’d left him for a good while, staring off into the distance.
When you re-enter your room, he’s sprawled on top of your comforter.
You use the towel in your hands to properly dry your hair, eyeing him suspiciously and hoping that whatever weird vibe was going on earlier would have vanished by now.
Shigaraki opened his eyes and watched you silently as you went about your routine, making you feel weird for thinking that he almost looked content just doing that.
He’d discarded his black hoodie, landing on the other end of your bed and leaving him in dark jeans and an ancient Slipknot t-shirt, chest raising and falling and lips slightly parted open.
“Please, tell me you didn’t jerk off on my bed while I was gone,” you say to break the ice and a lopsided smile finally graces his lips.
“Nah, I think I’ll rather have you do that for me instead.”
When his back slides up on his elbows, you grimace.
“Gross,” you reply, turning around to hide your embarrassment and he shrugs.
How is he always saying embarrassing shit so confidently? You recently started to think you were wrong about him being a virgin. How could he be one if this is how he talked around people he wanted to fuck.
Did he act like this with other girls too? The one at the party? You pressed your lips into a thin line before dropping the wet towel somewhere on the floor and exiting the room.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asks, getting up and ready to follow you but you’re already back by the time he’s standing.
“The fuck? I just grabbed my bag, relax,” you say, walking past him and opening your school bag.
“What are you doing?” Shigaraki observes over your shoulder. You grab your notes, your laptop and sit at your desk.
“Studying.”
“What? You’ve been studying the entire fucking week!”
You could only shake your head. “My exam period starts next week, I can’t help it.”
“Ugh, fuck you’re boring.”
“Shocking revelation. I told you I was busy and you invited yourself anyway, now leave me alone.”
And he does.
He does, because he seems to suddenly remember where he is and immediately begins looking around in every corner of your apartment, either talking shit or being amazed at various objects you owned.
You didn’t have too much, but you had a bunch of cool shit you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of if you tried. Besides, it was your cool shit and it felt minimally good for someone to acknowledge it, since your best friend found most of it to be nerdy or lame.
“Why’d you lie about never getting yourself physical items when we were at the store? You literally have an entire fucking collection of these!” he speaks loudly, volume dwindling the closer he gets to your room.
You run a hand over your face at yet another distraction, voice coming out more nasally than usual, “Those were either gifts or exceptions. I don’t throw gifts away.”
“So why couldn’t I make you a gift then?”
“That’s the point. If you did, I probably wouldn’t… nevermind. And aside from that, I don’t feel like fucking owing you anything.”
He frowns at you and mumbles, “...You wouldn’t owe me anything over a stupid gift.” But his frown was quickly replaced by a cocky smile. “Besides, if that’s what you care about, you’ve already failed since you’ve been owing me one for quite a while now.”
“What? What the fuck do I owe you?”
“I paid for your shit at the store when we met for the first time, remember?” The smile turned into a shit-eating grin.
“Ah, fuck. Hold on,” you say, reaching down into your bag to grab your wallet before he clicks his tongue.
“Don’t. I don’t take money from the poor, that would just be unfair.”
You blink at him dumbly. “Then what do you want?”
“Mmm, I’ll think of something,” he replies, turning on his heel and resuming his treasure hunt in your house.
Shigaraki whistles when he finally gets to your underwear drawer where you stored a bunch of small colorful toys.
It’s worth mentioning that it wasn’t the sex itself that embarrassed or scared you. You’ve been trained out of it a while ago. Sex is okay. It was the feelings that scared you, meaning you only rolled your eyes at the added distraction when you heard him flip a switch, the distinct noise of your bullet vibrator coming alive with a buzz.
“So, where’s the weird-looking red one you used a few years ago? I can’t find it,” he asks, rummaging through your drawer and you’re wondering what the fuck he’s talking about again when it clicks.
“Are you twelve? When are you letting that go?” You turn in your chair, putting your elbow on top of the frame supporting your back and frown at him. Your eyes feel heavy. Today, much like everyday recently, left you feeling tired and defeated.
Shigaraki only grins lecherously at your question.
You give him an unimpressed look and turn back to your paper with a deep sigh.
“Dunno how much you know or dug up about me—” And if you were honest, you didn’t really want to find out, “—but if you looked hard enough, you’d know that I was pretty much homeless after I turned eighteen, waiting for my scholarship application to finalize. Didn’t have more than a suitcase with me, so none of the stuff you’ve seen in the… videos was—well, mine.”
He quirks a brow, letting the items he held drop back into your drawer and obnoxiously leaving it open. Tomura’s pretty sure this is the first time you’d willingly told him anything personal about yourself.
Not that he’d ever cared to properly listen before.
You hear him walk a few steps and stop behind your chair, a pair of slender hands resting on top of your shoulders and gripping them firmly. Not very soft but not quite rough either.
You’re immediately painfully aware of how intimate this feels, but he opens his mouth again and the world rights itself.
“How much dick did you suck for a roof under your head back then?” he snorts, thankfully ruining the moment.
You scoff because lately it feels like… like you’re getting used to this. Getting used to him and his weird unstable behavior, together with the whiplash of emotions.
For him, a great sign. He’s winning the game, breaking you down. For you?
Not so much.
Shigaraki applies pressure to your tense shoulders and starts moving his hands unevenly, kneading his fingers into your stiff muscles until you realize it’s probably meant to be reassuring.
“It’s alright. If you somehow manage to lose everything again,” he hints, “You could always blow me instead and I’m sure we can figure something—” You smack his arm repeatedly, having turned around in your seat, face flushed in shame as he looks down at you and snickers under his breath.
“God, you’re such a dick!” you yell, feeling hurt and turning away from him to hide it. This topic was especially sore to you because yeah—you really did suck dick to keep a roof over your head.
Sex is fine. Feeling like you have to sell yourself to some asshole, for you to spend another night away from the cold streets, isn’t.
“C’mon, I’m just fucking with you.” He pushes your head down in an attempt to tease annoy you further. “I wouldn’t have it in me to abandon my favorite toy on the streets anyway,” he quips but you completely ignore him and he shoots you a questioning glance.
He’s tall enough to tower over you as you sit, leaning into your vision field, white locks of hair falling to the sides of his face. You use your pointing finger to move his big fat forehead out of your way.
“I’m studying.”
“And I’m bored.”
“Go home then.”
He snorts. “Fuck no.”
“Then it’s not my problem.”
“Oh it will be. You won’t like it if I go and have fun on my own.”
“Shigaraki, I’ve got the first exam in four days. Go entertain yourself like the big boy you are, and let me fucking study for my shit please. I reaaaally don’t wanna have to blow you if I fail and lose my scholarship,” you make a callback to his joke and push his face away with your entire palm until he finally relents.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he says with a creepy lilt in his tone, giving you a foreboding smile before turning around and leaving.
You use your pen to scratch at your temples. “By the way… you’re not seriously planning to stay the night over. Right?”
He looks back at you and his smile just stretches.
“Ugh, fine but you’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Hah! You fucking wish.” Shigaraki waves you off, walking out of your bedroom.
It’s really quiet for the next hour or so.
Quiet enough for you to get up and investigate. Maybe the gods were kind for once and your apartment would be empty.
When you step into your living room, you freeze.
Click—click. Double click.
It hits you like a truck, driving at full speed.
You do not have a fucking password, because you did not need a fucking password. Who the fuck would snoop through your PC? Taylor?
“What. The fuck. Are you doing?!”
“Uhh, entertaining myself?” He turns to face you, swiveling in your chair, with his left leg casually resting on top of the seat and his chin resting against his knee. “I was right tho’.” He smiles at you darkly, turning to scroll through the page and cackling maniacally. “Look at aaalll this dirty fucked up shit you’re into—”
You feel your blood physically draining from your face when you get closer, recognizing several instances of your fanfic website being open in a bunch of different tabs.
Tabs containing different works you’ve bookmarked, that not a single soul should know about.
Sex is great.
Shigaraki Tomura finding out about your wildest fucked-up fantasies is absolutely criminal.
You were so fucked.
#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#emotional hurt/comfort#shigaraki tomura#unhealthy relationships#dead dove do not eat#trigger warnings#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki x you#tenko shimura#tomura shigaraki#college au#reader is female#tomura shigaraki x reader
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Celle qui s'est enfuie | 2
Part 1
Rating & Warnings: Swearing, slight nsfw, violence that is very much given and received, reader gets her ass handed to her, Tangerine gets his ass handed to him.
Not a lot of smut in this, just some character/relationship building
Pairings: Tangerine x Assassin!Reader
Word Count: 3,074
Summary: Tangerine got himself into this mess; he’s got to get himself out of it. If he can get his hands on her.
“You’re gonna fix this Tangerine”.
“Mate you don’t think I know this? I get it, I fucked up”.
“No, you fucked HER which fucked things up”. Lemon was exasperated that was for sure. The moment Lemon walked in on a groaning Tangerine rolling around the floor of the toilet stall he knew exactly what had happened. His brother had gone and done the exact thing he told him not to do. Was he surprise? Not really, but it didn’t help him feel any less angry about it.
“Right well, we gotta’ start searching the train for her before it stops”. Tangerine let a huff of frustration leave his nose as he eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in who was around and who wasn’t.
Lemon pinched the bridge of his nose, pausing in thought for a moment before pointing a hand to the left. “I’ll go this way” he signalled towards the other direction, “You, that way”.
Tangerine was just about to nod in agreement before he was pulled back by his brother. He frowned in disapproval as he peered down to notice the grip Lemon had on the fabric of his shirt. “We have to get that drive back mate or we’re dead yeah?”.
“Don’t worry mate. I got this”. Tangerine pulled his brother’s hand away from his shirt.
“Yeah, just try not to think with your dick this time”.
“Oh shut up”.
Lemon snickered as he took his leave, leaving Tangerine alone once again. But this time, Tangerine had to fix the mistake he made. He was going to find her, and he was going to get that drive back. And if he had the time, he was going to teach her a lesson for messing with the twins. What he would do exactly was unclear, but he supposed it depended on how he would feel in the moment.
Tangerine took a deep breath through his nose, letting the air escape past his lips as a way to ground himself before he made his way through the train to try and find this mystery thief.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He had found himself in a cart lined with fluorescent pink lights that frankly started to hurt his eyes, especially considering he had recently suffered a concussion courtesy of his mystery thief. It was clear this cart was for children with the loud obnoxious cartoon theme song playing, plethora of children running amok and the giant god knows what beginning its descent down the cart.
“What the fu-” this giant mascot bounded its way towards Tangerine, stumpy arms flailing around in a an attempt to hug him quickly being smacked away. “Get the fuck-” With one swing, Tangerine landed a fist straight unto the foam lined mascot head, sending the character stumbling to the side. “ -out of my way”.
“Sorry, excuse me”. Tangerine then quickly remembered he was in the presence of children and parents and quickly apologised, palm raised in their direction to make peace before he finally made his way out of the cart.
Once Tangerine entered the next cart he immediately paused before moving any further, eyes scanning his immediate surroundings and clocking in anything he could notice from this position. At first it was just like every other area of the train, families, business men, young travellers, nothing out of the ordinary. Just ordinary people leading ordinary lives.
But it didn’t stop Tangerine from being completely alert; his hand had been safely hovering over the gun tucked into his belt against his back, steady and ready to be used at any given moment. Because that’s when in the corner of his eye he saw it, that unmistakable swish of hair through the cart door window at the other end. Tangerine huffed softly, eyes narrowing in as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his gun.
He was about to begin moving when a ding sounded off , signalling the train was about to come to a stop. “Fuck”. He quietly whispered before picking up the pace, careful not to let himself be seen through the small window on the door. Tangerine had his back pressed up against the cool metal door, waiting for the perfect moment to bust through and make his move.
If he waited for the right moment just as the train would stop and those doors would open, then he would be able to grab the drive and kick her off the train. Nice and simple.
He peered through the window, eyes on her. “Cheeky little..” she had changed clothes. Skirt now replaced with tight black pants, boots with laces tied up to her calves and what seemed like a torso harness strategically hiding smaller daggers and who knows what else. Definitely looking more like a killer at this point.
“3...2...-” The doors to the train opened and Tangerine had taken his chance to lunge at her at the exact same time, the last thing he saw was the way her brows furrowed in shock as he rammed her into the next cart over. With the force of the tackle, the pair ended up on the ground with a grunt from the both of them. Tangerine had her pinned to the ground, arm pressing firmly down on her chest to keep her from moving. “Hello luv, where’d you think you’re going?”
She sneered at him, clearly annoyed that he found her so soon and just before she had left the train. “Get off”. She flailed once with a growl to her tone but Tangerine only pushed against her more.
The sound of the doors closing and train beginning to leave had her sneering, her head thrown back in frustration. Tangerine could only chuckle.
“Afraid I can’t sweetheart, you’ve got somethin’ of mine”.
She suddenly smirked wickedly, her eyes locking onto his as if a thought had just popped into her head. “What? Your virginity? I don’t think I can give that back sorry”.
Tangerine snickered. “If I were a virgin sweetheart, I doubt you would’ve been moaning for me the way you were”.
“Who said I wasn’t faking it?”
Tangerine leaned in, his nose and lips ever so slightly grazing the shell of her ear, the sheer heat of his skin against her causing a slight shiver to roll through her body. His entire presence shifted the way she felt, his scent, his voice…that tantalisingly delicious smell of tobacco and vanilla. She could easily become addicted to that event and she was silently begging he couldn’t tell the way she was feeling. “Your beautiful little body told me otherwise”.
She had to squeeze her legs together to keep herself from letting off any signs of weakness. She couldn’t let him know he had an effect on her as she had the drive and he didn’t know where it was. She had the time to get out of this.
While he was still leaned into her she took this as an opportunity to strategically slide a single arm free, slowly angling it to a certain point before suddenly bringing her elbow straight into Tangerine’s side. The male let out a gruff groan of pain as he keeled over, allowing her direct access for a swift kick to the chest that sent him flailing backwards.
With Tangerine subdued temporarily, she was able to scramble to her feet, a proud grin on her lips as she took a protective stance with her hands raised into fists. “What’s it telling you now handsome?”
Standing angrily to his feet Tangerine had a sneer on his features as he raised he too raised his fists, readying himself to strike. “You cheeky little...” She smiled as she noted the way his moustache tweaked upwards from his expression.
Tangerine growled as he lunged forward, swinging a fist in her direction to which she easily dodged. He quickly swung the other fist, but it was only met with the loud crash of the cupboards behind her as she had ducked out of the way once again.
Before he could react she had taken the opportunity to send her fist into his gut that caused him to stumble back for a moment before he regained his position. She swung another fist but he blocked her strike quickly by grabbing her by the wrist, suddenly twisting her arm behind her in a way that had her groaning immediately from the discomfort. “As much as I’d love to dance with you sweetheart I got a job to do”.
Pressing her arm into her back he used his grip on her to harshly swing her forward, sending her slamming into the mess of cupboards splintered across the top. She let out a grunt of pain, clearly winded by the impact of the counter against her stomach. “This is a little rougher than I’m used to”.
She tried to twist herself around and get out of his reach but he was quicker than her when he pinned her to the counter with the pressure of his own body.
“Ah ah, where’d you think you’re goin’ luv?”. He grinned wickedly, one hand quick to reach up and hold her wrists above her head whilst the other curled around her neck, holding her steadily in place. He had her now, all he had to do was find where ever she stuffed that stupid drive and maybe just knock her out long enough where Lemon and himself could get away.
She immediately grinned at the pressure she felt against her throat, her eyes hooded as her gazed flickered up to peer into his own. She was a little more dishevelled at this point, as was he. Both of them with hair a mess and beads of sweat lining the crowns of their forehead.
Once Tangerine noticed the look on her face he quirked a brow, quickly frowning. “What on earth are you smilin’ about?”
“I knew we had fun in that bathroom Tangerine but I had no idea you missed me that much”.
“What are you talking about?” He squeezed against her neck a little righter, clearly starting to get agitated.
She only grinned again, her eyes flickering downwards for a moment before looking back up at him. “Well it’s that or you’re hiding another gun in your front pocket”. She could feel a slight hardness press against her thigh, she would have been lying if she said the thought of it didn’t cause her to heat up. However she did not let on as such.
Tangerine paused for a moment as he processed what she had just said, and once it clicked he could only chuckle, pursing his lips in disregard as he shrugged. “What can I say? I love a good tussle with a beautiful woman, I’m only human”. And he wasn’t lying, there was definitely residual feelings left over from their first interaction, and having had such close contact with her again had just left Tangerine feeling a little more excited than usual.
“Mm, how charming”.
“Well darlin’ if you could just cooperate and give me that little drive then maybe we can work somethin out yeah?”
“Mm-” She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, feigning deep thought as if she were truly contemplating his question. “No”. With Tangerine distracted his grip on her had subconsciously loosened, giving her the opportunity to manoeuvre herself in a way that allowed her to use her feet to push him away. Tangerine stumbled once again, crashing into the counters behind him. The amount of times she had thrown him back was starting to irritate Tangerine and he was clearly pissed off now. Brows furrowed with his forehead creased in pure fury. Crystal blue eyes blown wide and nostrils flared, she clearly struck a chord and he was losing his patience.
“Right that’s it. I didn’t wanna’ hit no girl but I’ve fuckin’ had it”.
His fists were up again and he was ready to lunge and grab her. She reacted quickly and grabbed the nearest bottle of water near her which just so happened to be glass and raised it above her head. How convenient.
“I fuckin’ dare ya fruit boy”.
They both ended up freezing mid fight, quickly retracting into a normal stance once they realised a train attendant had found her way into the cart.
The train attendant acknowledged the both of them before promptly bowing.
“Kon'nichiwa, nanikakaitaidesu ka?”
Hiding the bottle behind her back she simply smiled and bowed back, her eyes flicking up to look at Tangerine who had awkwardly tucked his hands into his pockets, clearly not understanding a word the attendant had said.
“Ie, domo arigato”. She politely bowed back to the attendant, feigning the best innocent smile Tangerine had ever seen.
The attendant smiled and bowed once more before leaving the train cart, disappearing behind the door.
The second the door shut, she raised the bottle and flung it in Tangerine’s direction, barely missing his head as he quickly ducked out of the way. She wasn’t too concerned about missing as she had given herself the perfect opportunity to leap upwards and grab the railing attached to the ceiling, using the leverage to haul herself up enough to wrap her legs around Tangerine’s shoulders.
“Get the fuck off me! You are not about to black widow me”.
“Now there’s an idea”.
“No!”
With a grin she locked her thigh around his shoulder, using the leverage of her own body weight and strength to wrap herself around the man and twisting herself downwards, bringing him down with her in a glorious thud and guttural groan from Tangerine.
With her thigh still wrapped around his neck she squeezed her leg in, causing him to groan out once again from the added pressure against his throat. “Give it up handsome”. Her breath was ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. It was obvious she was exhausted from the back and forth, and judging with the sweat and strain in Tangerine’s face, it was clear that he was in the same boat.
“Not likely sweetheart”. He was tired.. he was tired, beaten up and frankly pissed off. He did not realise this mystery thief would be so annoyingly good at her job. He really thought he’d have to toss her around for a couple seconds and he’d easily subdue her but here he was, head locked between her thighs. A sweet way to go really, nothing like the sweet caress of a woman’s thighs. Even if they were slowly tightening against his neck, cutting off his air supply. But he wasn’t going to give up here. He knew Lemon was waiting somewhere and the Kyoto stop was not far off. It was now or never.
With a final show of strength Tangerine punched her in the side of the thigh, striking a sensitive pressure point he knew would have her rolling off him in an instant. She let out a screech of disapproval as she buckled over, giving Tangerine the opportunity to strike her in the gut to have her keeling over in pain.
“Low blow fruit boy”. She clutched her stomach as she slowly started to get onto her feet, a smirk still on her lips as she used the counter to steady herself.
“Give me a break luv you’ve been striking low blows this whole time”. Tangerine had his hands on his hips, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning his gaze back onto her. Wiping at the side of his mouth he was about to speak again when he noticed her trying to sneak away. “Oh no no”.
He was quick to catch up to her before backing her up into a corner and ensuring he pressed his body up against her. He made sure she wouldn’t be able to escape, chest to chest so that he could feel her tired, ragged breath fan against his face. “Where ya’ goin sweetheart?”
Her eyes flicked up to meet his own, deep breath escaping past her lips as she tried her best not to get lost in his steel blue gaze, “I’ve got a job to do”.
He chuckled, that annoying egotistical but oh so attractive chuckle that resonated inside her. His voice was low as he placed a palm flat against the wall beside her head, leaning in so his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “So do I...now what do you suppose we do about that?” She could feel her heart thundering against her chest, a mixture of exhaustion and the intimacy of the situation causing her to feel unsteady in his presence. His free hand had now found its way to her hip, just gently resting there, barely gripping her. Even that small touch had her swallowing hard.
“Maybe we could work something out?” He cooed into her ear, his hand on her hip gently beginning to glide up her arm. Every inch of her skin burning with his touch.
“What do you propose?” Her voice was stable despite the way she felt, however she decided to keep her vocabulary to a minimum, not trusting the sounds that might make their way out.
“You could be a solid asset for my brother and I...”
She quirked a brow at his obvious proposition. To join him and his brother as a team. An interesting prospect indeed but how did she know she could trust them? They could easily say one thing then turn on her in an instant. It was impossible to trust anyone in this field.
“I think we both know you can’t trust anyone in our line of work Tangerine”.
“Maybe...but our contractor... this job. If you do this with us, there’s big money involved. Most likely way more than whatever you’ve been promised”. He grinned, his eyes flickering from her lips to her eyes as he watched her process his words. “Besides, I’m just having too much of a good time with you. I can’t bring myself to say goodbye”.
She smiled at his words, her bottom lip catching between her teeth for a moment. She searched his gaze, standing in silent exchange as if to see if she could catch him in a lie. Anything, any sort of quirk or twitch that would tell her he meant otherwise. She sighed softly as she slid her hands up his chest, fingers gripping at the collar of his shirt that had progressively fallen apart during their fight before tugging him towards her, their lips mere inches apart. She peered at his lips for a moment longer, noting the way they were parted ever so slightly, as if expecting to steal a kiss.
“If you fuck me over on this Tangerine...” Leaning in she took his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough to illicit a soft moan from Tangerine that had her grinning. “I’ll fucking kill you”.
Tangerine pulled back enough to see the dark look in her eyes, juxtaposing with the siren’s smirk on her features that excited him in more ways than one. How could someone look so lovely and beautiful yet dark and have that murderous look in their eye all at once.
He could only huff with amusement, “The only thing I’ll be fucking you over is a table luv’”.
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#tangerine x y/n#bullet train#bullet train tangerine#tangerine fic
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