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sincerelyneo · 1 month

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promiscuous | l.jn

“i’m all yours, what you waiting for?”

💿now playing: promiscuous by nelly furtado, timbaland

❯ summary: Jeno’s more turned on than angry he thinks - it’s not everyday he finds out his girlfriend used to be a stripper and now all he wants from you is a lap dance. Right now. In his car.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, mentions of drinking, lap dancing, stripping, car sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), dirty talk, thigh riding, semi-public sex, hair pulling, mentions of groping and shitty men, karina is reader's bsf, reader uses she/her pronouns, just jeno being smitten and in awe over his stripper gf.

“Did you see the look on his face when you said you had a boyfriend?” Karina chuckles from the backseat of Jeno’s car.

The joke isn't particularly funny, but it's the combination of alcohol buzzing through her system and the late hour that has her snickering and laughing as if she's a comedian. Jeno can’t help but crack a smile either, not because he finds her humorous; but because his heart swells with pride knowing you turned down another guy because you’re his girlfriend.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of saying that.

“I know, he looked like he was about to piss his pants when he started apologising,” you add with your own cackle of laughter. “Priceless really, like a little dear in the headlights.”

Karina grins, leaning back into the middle seat. "I almost wanna feel bad for him, but then I remember he wouldn't take no for an answer until you mentioned Jeno."

You roll your eyes with a shake of your head, “That’s men for you.”

“Ugh! Tell me about it,” she rolls her eyes, “Men are so gross.”

Jeno looks through the rearview mirror and sees her scrunch her nose as a shiver runs through her body. “Hey now, I’m not gross.”

“Oh I know, Y/N tells us all about how cute the two of you are,” she sighs, “She’s managed to find one of the good ones, lucky bitch.”

You look over at Jeno when she says it, a smile on your face because she’s right. Lee Jeno’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. Just the right balance of sweet and smitten and passionate and protective. Even now, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently resting on your exposed thigh beneath your short dress, he had insisted on picking you up from the club even if it meant waiting up into the early hours of the morning. He just didn’t like the idea of you and your friend getting in a cab alone, drunk. Granted, you’re not that drunk, but Karina is.

He is one of the good ones.

“You’ll find a good one too, Rina. You deserve it,” you assure her looking back to see her sitting with her arms folded across her chest.

“Well wherever he is he needs to hurry up, honestly, I don’t know how much more I can take of shitty men chatting me up at the bar and trying to grope me. It’s nauseating.”

“They do that to you?” Jeno asks. You pull up to a red light and his eyes meet hers in the mirror.

“Sometimes,” she shrugs, “Honestly Y/N, I don’t know how you used to put up with it when you used to strip…”

Karina's words trail off as she realises her mistake, her eyes widening in alarm. You go stiff in the passenger seat because you haven’t told Jeno about that.

The jovial atmosphere in the car suddenly shifts, the air growing thick with tension as Karina's slip of the tongue hangs in the air like a heavy cloud. Jeno's grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. His eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, catching Karina's wide-eyed expression, and there’s a silent plea for forgiveness in her gaze.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and a rush of panic floods through you. For a moment, the only sound in the car is the dull hum of the engine and the distant echo of traffic outside. Jeno's jaw clenches, but it’s not out of anger, you’ve seen him angry and this isn’t it. If anything you haven’t ever seen him like this, expression unreadable, and you don’t know whether that’s worse.

"You... used to strip?" His voice finally cuts through the heavy silence.

Your breath catches in your throat, as you struggle to find the right words to explain yourself. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. There’s a weight of guilt and fear pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Karina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her earlier confidence replaced by a palpable sense of regret. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out for her either. Her gaze darts between Jeno and you with a mixture of guilt and apprehension.

The remainder of the car ride was suffocatingly silent until the car pulls up in front of Karina's building, the engine cutting off with a final sputter. She hesitates for a moment, her hand lingering on the door handle as she glances between you and Jeno, unsure of what to say.

Eventually, she opens the door and lets herself out, but not before standing at the passenger window to mouth a small and apologetic. "I’m sorry.”

You manage a weak smile and shake your head, mouthing back a simple, “It’s okay.”

She nods, and she stumbles her way up to her apartment. Jeno waits until she’s safe inside and the door closes behind her before he starts driving off again. You can’t help but shift uncomfortably in your seat, stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

You can’t shake the feeling that he’s angry, furious even, at the revelation of your past. Guilt gnaws at your insides, twisting and turning as the car is quiet and his gaze stays fixed on the road ahead.

You can’t bear the silence any longer, the weight of it pressing down on you. "Jeno, are you... mad?" you tread lightly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeno's head snaps to the side until his eyes meet yours. They’re dark and intense but filled with more surprise than anger. And you’re caught off guard; because you could have sworn from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel, hard enough to cause a fire, he would have been at least a little annoyed.

A slow smirk starts to spread across his lips, gaze now burning and it sends shivers down your spine. "Mad?" he echoes, "No, Y/N... not mad."

A wave of confusion washes over you, your mind reeling at the unexpected response. But before you can process his words, he’s pulling over at some random side of the road to lean in close to your ear. His breath is hot, and he whispers, "Actually, I'm pretty turned on."

You move away from him, back hitting the car door, “Really? You’re not upset…?”

“Well…” he shrugs, “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me—”

“I didn’t want you to look down on me, or be embarrassed of me,” you cut him off, the urge to guard yourself getting the best of you.

Jeno sighs, and he notices the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself. He doesn’t understand why you’re even doing that – you don’t have to prove anything about yourself to him – he loves you as you are, past and future included.

“You didn’t let me finish,” his fingertips grip your chin, “I’m upset I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me to tell me that.”

“I just didn’t want you to judge me is all,” you look down, voice going quiet.

“That what you think I’d do?” He asks, planting a kiss on your cheek, and to his pleasure, it snaps your eyes up to him. “I’d never fucking judge you, baby, I already think you’re perfect… and I suppose knowing you used to strip is kind of a bonus.”

You laugh, shaking his hand from your chin, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious, do you know how hot it is knowing my girlfriend used to be a stripper?”

His tone is too calm for your liking. You had often imagined how Jeno might react about learning of your past as a stripper, and you don’t know why, but you had always prepared for him to be angry. You weren’t expecting this, him being so touchy and needy and – well – horny.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip as he flicks a glance up to the roof of his car. When his eyes fall down to yours, they’re dangerous. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

You push at his chest playfully, “Stop it Jeno.”

“Were you any good at it?” he asks tensely.

“We’re not doing this,” you laugh, shaking your head.

He groans - it’s more of a whine. “Come on humour me, please baby.”

You jut your jaw and roll your eyes. “Fine, I suppose I was pretty good.”

He lets out a dark huff of breath. Leaning back in his seat, he strokes his chin and runs a slow, all-seeing eye up your thigh and then over your chest. By the time it rests on your face, all of your nerve endings are on fire, lungs unable to keep up with your tense breaths.

“Show me.”

Your eyes widen, “What?”

“Show. Me.” He repeats, expressionless.

There’s a chill that drifts through you. His face is completely void of humour, but there’s no way he can be serious…right?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten your spine, mustering your best look of indifference as you fix him with a piercing stare. “We’re in public.”

“We’re in my car, and it’s dark.”

You swallow, “You want me to strip here?”

He nods.

“There’s no room.”

He reaches down beside his seat, and with a soft touch, it reclines, creating a large space between his knees and the steering wheel. He always has an answer to everything. You let out a ragged breath, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Jeno, I can't just strip for you—" you begin, your voice trailing off as he interrupts you.

"Oh, so you'll strip for random men, but when I ask, it's a problem?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, meeting his intense gaze. "You're serious?"

"Deadly.”

"Fine."

The click of your seatbelt echoes in the quiet car as you rise, sliding into the gap in front of him, facing the windshield. He lets out a low groan, his hand finding purchase on your waist, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

As you slowly lower your body, the denim of his jeans rustles against the backs of your thighs. You shift your ass forward to his knees and arch your back. Your hands tremble, partially because you haven’t done this for years but also from the heat of his impatient gaze on your skin as you tease the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

With deliberate movements, you shift your hips, slowly, sensually. Your body sways in time to an invisible rhythm and you feel your lust and adrenaline rise.

His fingers glide along the contours of your back, and suddenly, an irresistible urge seizes you – to see the expression etched onto his face. It's a novel sensation, one that contrasts sharply with your previous experiences. In the past, when you danced, you avoided eye contact with patrons, but this is different; this is Jeno, your Jeno.

You decide to peer over your shoulder, and when you do you don't break eye contact with him. Taking a deep breath you slide the dress over your body, his gaze follows your every movement. From your ankles to the strip of your black underwear, his eyes trace your curves with a hunger that has your core setting a light. There is not a single trace of sweet Jeno left in his irises - the man looking back at you is hungry, needy.

Letting the fabric fall to the pedals, you lower yourself back onto his lap. The warmth of his thighs against your bare skin sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back as you roll your hips, feeling the heat building between you. Soft fabric brushes over your clothed cunt and it makes your mouth water.

Holding onto the steering wheel, you arch your back and roll your ass into the direction of his groin. The guttural sound of his grunt is so animalistic it sends a shock of pleasure straight to your clit. You push further, sliding back until the tip of his swollen cock brushes against your ass. The realization of just how hard he is through his jeans sends a thrill coursing through your veins that triggers a wet heat to pool in your panties.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you move, each roll of your hips driving you closer to the edge from the brush of his growing erection. His ragged breathing fills the car, and when his rough fingers slide beneath your panties, the snap of elastic meeting skin elicits a moan from your lips.

"Can't believe you'd wear panties like this, in that dress, when I wasn't there," he grunts, his voice thick with desire.

Gasping for air, you tilt your head back, your breaths coming in short gasps. "Shut up," you manage, but your voice still trembles with need.

He laughs, before returning his hands to your waist. "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see your face."

Too breathless to refuse, you rise on shaky legs and turn to face him. And when you meet his gaze, you're unprepared for the intensity you find there. It's a stare so intense it's almost violent, burning as it trails over your body over your thighs and stomach. You’ve had plenty of sex with Jeno and the way he studies your body so carefully will never not leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Prettiest fucking girl in the world,” he mutters the words more to himself than to you, but still, you shudder beneath the weight of them.

You grip the back of his headrest and slowly lower yourself onto his lap. Jeno leans forward to meet you. His hands, hot and greedy, slide behind your back to steady you. A smile tugs on your lips as you roll your hips against his throbbing cock just enough to wake up your clit — not that you needed to. Then, his fingers slide underneath the band of your bra and he looks up at you through his thick lashes.

The snap as he drags his thumb out from underneath the band sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and you can't help but arch your back in response. His eyes roam over your body, tracing the line of your throat before settling on your lips.

"I want to take this off," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

"That's not how lap dances work, silly," you giggle, a smile playing on your lips.

Another animalistic groan comes from him forcing your pussy to clench around nothing. Your fingers dig into his headrest, and his raspy breaths tickle the dip of your chest. You rake your teeth over your bottom lip as his fingers find the base of your hair to yank your head back.

"You take it off then," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "I just want it gone. Now."

With a mischievous grin, you slide your bra off, tossing it in his direction. As it lands on his face, you see a slow breath escape his parted lips, tension tightening the line of his shoulders as his hungry eyes take in the sight of your bare breasts. His eyes trail over your curves, the hunger in his gaze almost palpable as he flexes his biceps, adjusting his hands behind his head.

"Don’t let me stop you," he murmurs cockily.

Your pussy throbs with anticipation as you lean back, gripping his knees as you rock your hips forward once more. One particularly hard roll of your hips elicits a moan from deep within you, the friction building with every movement.

"You're so wet, baby. I can see you soaking through your panties," he whispers

Flustered, you whimper in response, his gaze sliding down to where your panties meet his jeans.

"Can I pull them to the side?"

You're too lost in the moment to argue, too caught up in the pleasure and the heat between your thighs. So you nod, permitting him to slide your panties to the side as you grind hopelessly against his leg. Your body is flush and sweaty yearning for him, craving more pressure every time your clit brushes against his bulge.

“Fuck,” he whispers close to your ear.

Your hands slide between his bent elbows and your fingers lock behind his headrest; allowing you to have a better position to grind down on his body with even more fervour.

“You’re gonna cum on my thigh aren’t you?”

You're consumed by heat and desire, completely hot and desperate, and the windshield is now fully fogged up as a result. Lost in the throes of pleasure, you're unable to respond to him, but words are unnecessary. He can see the way your eyes clench shut with each roll of your hips, an expression of pure ecstasy. It's all the encouragement he needs to take action, flexing his thigh beneath you.

The sensation overwhelms you, causing you to buckle under the pressure against your clit. Unable to contain yourself, you sink your teeth into Jeno's bicep and he hisses. But you can't help it because waves of pleasure wash over you as you ride out the orgasm that courses through your body.

After what feels like an eternity of bliss, your high begins to ebb, and you find yourself melting into his chest, spent and content.

It's only when the intensity of your climax subsides that you snap back to reality. Neither one of you has moved – you’re just attached to eachother, panting heavily that you might as well share the same breath. The sensation of Jeno’s cock poking your ass is still tangible, and even though you are practically exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm he just gave you, you figure it’s only fair to return the favour.

Your gaze remains fixed on his as you reach down to fumble with the buckle of his jeans. He offers no assistance, his eyes entirely focused on you. After all, this is your show, and you get to call the shots.

You free his cock from his boxers, skipping the rest of his clothes in your eagerness to please him. His hands find your waist as yours find his shoulders, and you revel in the satisfaction of his eyes fluttering shut as you sink down onto the entirety of his length.

He hisses in pleasure, unable to resist a teasing remark. "You know, for someone who was so hesitant to strip in public, you sure don't mind taking my cock in public."

"It's dark, and we're in your car," you retort, satisfied with your quick comeback.

But before you can say more, he thrusts his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, where he belongs.

You feel every edge of him as he pounds into you, knotting your stomach and causing you to tighten your grip on his shoulder. The force of his thrusts threatens to push you back against the steering wheel, but you manage to hold on, whining in pleasure as he mutters curses under his breath.

"You always feel so good for me, baby," he coaxes, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling it back to expose your neck.

You hum in agreement, shamelessly lost in pleasure as he peppers your skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. You pant like there is no oxygen left in the car as his thrusts become sharper and more reckless.

“Fuck Jeno.”

You gasp, feeling his grip on your waist tighten in sync with the coil of pleasure in your stomach. He pushes you down to nuzzle into his neck, eliciting a cry from you at the angle. He takes your hands from his shoulders and locks them behind your back, giving him full control to drive every inch of him deep inside your pussy.

“Shit..” you whimper into his neck. You can feel his lips against your jaw, nicking it with his teeth.

“Take it, baby.”

The restriction of your hands paired with his powerful thrusts have you completely submissive to him - which is funny considering you were supposed to be putting on a show for him. He uses his hold on your arms to pull you back and forces you to look at him.

“Wanna see your face when you cum pretty girl.”

He knows your body so well because you’re at the beginning of your second round of bliss. His forehead falls lazily to your collarbone as he kisses the skin, sending trembles down your body and causing your mouth to fall open as you meet the edge.

And your whimpers only spur Jeno on, as he rocks you through your orgasm, his own release not far behind. He shakily moans out your name with heavy breaths, his pace staggering as you both climax together. Both your stomachs jitter from the stimulation and your chests huff until your bodies shake with the intensity of the pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you feel Jeno's final thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and sweat glistening on his brow. The collar of his shirt is damp with exertion, and his tongue pokes out at the side of his mouth as he catches his breath.

You’re like a limp puddle too, but Jeno stays clung to you, your sweaty bodies tangled in one other. Then, you slip off of him and drop into the passenger seat, tugging on your bra and dress that were previously disregarded on the car’s floor.

Jeno fixes his jeans as you dress. Then he starts toying with the car’s keys and revs the engine. As the car comes to life, the headlights glow yellow and the radio picks up. His warm, firm hand finds your thigh as you fasten your seat belt and glance up at him.

"From now on, every time we have sex, you owe me a lap dance."

"Shut up," you say with a scoff of laughter.

“I'm serious," he insists, " We gotta make up for lost time since you kept the fact you're a sexy ass stripper hidden from me."

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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ur james roommate fic (amazing btw) just gave me an idea

what about pre relationship marauders and there all roommates or something or maybe just one of them a roommates with reader but they all like her and they are all watching a movie like “hey were is she” and one of them answers oh she’s just gone round her mates for a film night or something

then a few hours later she comes stumbling in drunk in a tight as hell dress and heels and they get shocked cause she’s normally so quiet and now here she is giggling and making all these jokes and she was out at a club and who is the lady???

if not that’s totally fine bae 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: intoxication

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 967 words

“Think we ought to check up on her?” James asks halfway through the film.

Remus doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about. “Why?”

“It’s getting late.” James frowns out the window, where darkness has well and truly settled. “She’s never out this late. Wouldn’t we be pretty shit roommates if she was dead in a ditch somewhere and we didn’t even know?”

“What the hell do you plan to do, Prongs,” Sirius drawls, “send out a search party? It’s hardly eleven.”

James looks like he’s thinking a search party’s not such a bad idea. “She said she was going to her mate’s place, and I’m pretty sure it’s book club night. Maybe they’re just going late.”

Sirius scoffs. “You mean to say that on a Saturday night, she got so caught up talking about books that her meeting ran long?” He shakes his head, but his smile is fond. “What a fuckin’ nerd.”

Remus cocks an eyebrow, jutting his chin toward the television. “We’re in on a Saturday night. What does that make us?”

James laughs as Sirius huffs, crossing his arms as he leans back against the couch. “Least we’re not talking about books.”

By the time they finish their film, each of the boys is dead tired. Still, no one argues when James proposes starting another, an unspoken current of worry keeping them in the living room as the night wears on with no sign of your return.

A couple hours later, James and Sirius have both fallen asleep, James drooling slightly on the top of Sirius’ head, when Remus hears keys in the door. Sirius stirs as your keys twist this way and that. There’s a stream of muffled curse words before you finally get it, the lock sliding free and the door swinging open.

“Merlin,” Sirius breathes at the sight of you, rousing James. Remus is inclined to agree.

You’re in a tiny little dress that Remus would have never been able to picture in your closet, the bodice tight and the hem barely skimming past your buttcheeks. You teeter in the door on high heels like a newborn fawn, unphased as if that’s the way you’ve been getting around all evening. You curse quietly when your shoes make a clacking sound against the floor, reaching down to slide them off. Remus can tell from the way you flex your feet that they’ve been hurting you. You start toward your bedroom cautiously, on tiptoe, and it’s a testament to your unusual state that you don’t notice the boys until you’ve nearly passed them on the couch.

“Oh,” you say, still quiet as though you’re afraid to disturb some unseen sleeper. “You’re up. Hi!”

A laugh bubbles up out of Sirius. “Hi, gorgeous,” he says. “How was your night?”

“Ugh.” You grin, shoulders drooping as your eyes go wistful. “It was amazing. How was yours?”

“Not bad.” Sirius can’t seem to stop smiling, and James is the next of them to find his voice.

“Angel,” he says, blinking as though he’s not quite sure he’s actually woken up, “are you drunk?”

You go shy, and Remus’ heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness at the sweet sheepishness that touches your smile. “Just like, a tiny little bit,” you giggle, like you think you might get in trouble and are thrilled with your rebellion.

James shakes his head at you, mystified, and Remus scoots over, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “C’mere, love, talk to us for a bit.”

You’re happy to comply, though not quite as happy as Sirius when you stumble on your way over and he gets to put his hands on your hips, guiding you to a sitting position. You cross your legs under you, and James flushes as each of the boys try to look anywhere other than your exposed underwear. You lean your shoulder into Remus slightly; he leans back.

“What’d you get up to tonight?” He raises his eyebrows, delighting when you blush. Your lipstick has worn down to the liner, and you’ve got some sort of dark makeup smudged beneath your eyes. It takes everything in him not to brush his finger under your lashes and fix it. “We thought it was book club night.”

“No, we pushed that ‘til tomorrow,” you say. “Tonight was real club night.” You let out a little laugh, and Remus grins more because of that than the joke itself.

“I didn’t know you liked going out,” James says. “You haven’t done it in all the time we’ve lived here.”

You make an incredulous sound. “Sure I have.”

James’ eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline. “When?”

You shrug. “I mean, not all the time. Once a month, maybe.” Your lips curve upward in a look Remus has never seen on your face before. It’s making it difficult to breathe. “What, you just always assume I’m in my room if you don’t see me leave? S’that it?”

“Sorta,” James mumbles, and Sirius grins at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and stealing you from Remus.

“We’ll be more careful not to underestimate you in the future, sweet thing,” he promises, eyes half-lidded in that way that always reduces you to a blushing, stuttering mess.

You don’t seem affected this time. “Good,” you reply, batting your lashes at him. Sirius blanches.

James laughs at him. “Alright, I’ve got to see you in action,” he declares. “If we go out next weekend, will you come with us?”

You tilt your head consideringly. “Sure,” you say, “but I don’t think many guys are going to come up to me if I’m with you lot. You’ll scare them all away.”

Sirius scoffs. “Yeah, I’d fucking hope so.”

“That’s alright, love,” Remus says. “We’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

(cont)

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iluvmorales · 11 months

Text

The alleyway

summary Prowler!miles meets you, but not at the best time?

a/n send in requests! For any of the spiders or prowler!miles <3

word count ??

You don’t know why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to go on a walk at night, and in Brooklyn. Ever since the police captain was killed, the area, the city, and the people went to complete shit.

So now here you are, running through the alleyways, ducking left and right trying to get this group of grown men away from you and off your ass.

Were they after money? Your valuables? Or you? You didn’t even know because they didn’t say anything, just 5 men start fucking bolting at you with no warning.

You slid, practically drifting left and around a corner. You breathed out, after you’d been holding your breath for god knows how long while running.

“Why the fuck, these assholes..” you heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, knowing one had seen where you turned. You grabbed a plank that’d been thrown behind the dumpster and right when one was about to turn

Whack!

The board hit him dead center on his face, causing him to fall back and hit his head. He stopped moving thank god, but you assumed he was still alive.

“You bitch!” One launched at you, but you hit him with the board as well, only this time you weren’t as successful with knocking him onto the floor and out.

The prowler overheard the ruckus between the alleyway, and peered down from the top of the building. A girl, around his age trying her hardest to whack, possibly kill 4 men with a wooden plank. A wooden plank? What the fuck?

Obviously, to him she looked like she was doing alright seeing as how one was already unconscious and another was beaten bloody with a broken nose.

The prowler felt bad leaving you, but he had work to do and people to meet. He had no time to save some random girl in an alleyway.

“Ugh get a fucking life! Someone help!” You yelled to the men, then as loud as you could you asked for help.

Your arms were getting tired, your head was pounding and you were frustrated. Frustration quickly turned to pure fear when a man came from behind you and grabbed you, you elbowed him in his face, kicked and screamed.

Suddenly, the man fell to his knees and someone caught you before you hit the ground. You freaked out even more, still kicking and yelling.

“Chill out, I’m helping.” The distorted voice whispered, placing you down. Your knees were weak and you stumbled back watching him easily take out the guys one by one.

You let out a sigh of relief, back against the wall as you slowly slid down, your head falling into the palms of your hands. “Are you okay?” The “prowler” asked, stepping towards you.

Suddenly you remembered just who you were saved by and the unsafe feeling crept back. Quickly standing you replied; “yeah-yeah I’m good thank you. Even though I had the situation under control.” You cleared your throat and laughed, trying to lighten the mood and hide your fear.

“Aight, that’s good. You need me to walk you home? It’s not safe out here at night, if you haven’t noticed.” He spoke, the distorter gone. You could tell he was laughing at his own little joke and smiled. He was scary looking and had a dark aura, but his voice was so comforting.

“Yeah, please. That was lowkey kind of scary.” You say, walking out of the alley with the tall, dark prowler towering over you. Just his aura and looking alone scared off people, and you had him following behind like a guard dog.

Your house was kind of a long walk, and awkward silence was creeping up. “So, what’s ya’ name?” He asked, peering down but his head still tilted up. “Y/N..think i already know yours” you laughed a little, earning an un-seen grin but content a hum from the prowler.

“You know.. I thought you were a old man but lowkey, you sound kinda young” you called him out, looking back while walking then quickly turning back. “Let’s just say we’re around the same age” the prowler replied, shrugging off the indirect question.

Finally, the silence between the both of you was more comfortable. Enjoying the beauty and dangers of the neon-lit city, it’s graffiti and lights. You came to a stop in-front of a town house, turning back to the prowler.

“Thank you for everything, really.” You smiled at him, a genuine look in your eyes he had never received from anyone while in this suit. “Yeah it was no problem hermosa ..” he shrugged again, this time also shrugging off the heat that rose to his cheeks. You smiled as your cheeks got hot at the nickname, the way his voice was breathy and he rolled his r had you freaking out internally.

“Hope to see you around, without me being in danger that is” you laughed, walking up the steps and opening your door. “See you around” was all he could manage to say as he watched you walk up the steps and into your house.

He hummed to himself before walking into an alleyway and clawing his way up a building so he could easily jump roof to roof, on his way to meet his uncle.

“Y/N..” he whispered to himself, a smile across his lips.

#spider verse #prowler!miles x reader #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #x reader #greatusultimatus

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catiuskaa · 6 months

Text

music to my ears —bf!chan thoughts

A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!

(because he’s so gentle and so lively and represents the embodiment of the word «comfort» ㅠㅠ<3)

chan, who’s thrilled to hear that his partner, you, enjoys rap and music with almost as much passion as him.

chan, who often takes you to the studio, sometimes with the rest of the kids, others just him and you, perhaps 3racha too, and asks your opinion from time to time, shoving aside your several comments regarding your lack of knowledge in the field.

chan, that one day randomly approaches you as you get out of the shower, puppy eyes shyly staring at you like everytime he does when he wants to ask you a favour. You smile, not putting pressure in him.

chan, who finally mutters that he heard you sing in the shower, and claims that your voice fits perfectly on something that he has been working on, wondering if you’d be up to try out recording!

chan, who teaches you in the booth how to sing so that the mic catches your voice better, who explains the pace, the breathing, the tone, the exact way he wants you to deliver your short lyrics, yet showing how much the smallest details matter to him.

chan, who, as he does with the rest of the members, turns on the mic so you can hear him giggle when your voice cracks.

chan, who happily encourages your shenanigans, letting you sing any lyrics that come up to mind as you quickly end up comfortably laughing and following his guidelines, your cheeks red and hurting from smiling and laughing so much.

chan, who stares at you more than at the computer screen —where he should actually be looking—, snorting when he notices that his headphones look too big on your head, one of your hands holding them in place as you sing.

chan, who blushes, sheepish smile with dimples on display when you spot him staring, and you tease him, muttering through the mic. “jagi, you’re staring. Am I that bad?” You joke, and he giggles, hiding his face behind his hands in a timid manner, never getting tired of your humour.

chan, who makes you step out of the recording booth, takes his big headphones off of you and plants a loving smooch on your lips.

chan, who after several recordings, changes your contact on his phone as “my worldstar<3.”

(short take on chan thoughts because it’s chan, idk, and besides, I HAVE ONLY ONE EXAM LEFT UGH I AM SO HAPPY)

spicy bonus: chan, who one day, recording back at home for funsies suggested the idea of recording something more… funny. (and ended up hearing your moans in stereo)

#bangchan fluff #bang chan headcanons #chan headcanons #bang chan soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios #skz bang chan #stray kids x reader #soft hours #off to study now #brb swooning

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madebyrolo · 3 months

Text

See you then ᡣ𐭩

Rafe Cameron x reader

she/her

y/n and Rafes first date.

Pt.2

Pouge princess (pt.1)

hints of dark Rafe, mainly soft Rafe

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

It was 4:30pm, y/n and jjs 7 hour shift was done and soon her parents arrived and took over for the night shift.

“Hey how was your guys shift ?” Y/n dad asked while putting on his apron.

“It was fine, pretty hectic towards noon, the tips were amazballs ! I got $48, y/n though…” jj started side eyeing her.

“I got $50 alone from Rafe Cameron.” Y/n said blushing.

“Wards son?” Y/n dad questioned

“That was so sweet of him did you thank him!?” Her mom chimed in

“Yea I did, it was kinda out it the blue”

“Yea that was pretty nice of him..” y/n dad said suspicious

“Ugh handsome and a gentleman. Y/n you thinking what I’m thinking?” She joked with her while she blushed

“Uh no thank you. Hes just one of our finest customers.” Her dad said

“Yea I agree with your dad” jj scoffed

“I don’t need my daughter going off dating a that kind of kook.” He scowled

“Tell me about it” Jj said under his breath

“Hey don’t be mean Rafe isn’t that bad-”

“Y/n he hates pouges. Him and topper always is getting into trouble with John b and I and his fight with pope-”

“Jj that’s enough let’s go. Bye guys I’m headed to John bs see you later” y/n said interrupting jj trying not to create non existent drama between her dad and Rafe

As they walk to her car jj keeps complaining about the boys.

“I don’t see why you can’t just accept the fact he’s a bad guy y/n. All of them are the scum of the kook.” Jj complained

“Just because you and Rafe have problems doesn’t mean we do jay” she said opening the driver side door. She gets in and sits, taking a deep breath from her shift and jjs bickering.

As jj enters the car he opens the glove department grabbing his juul and cart, taking a deep hit. He isn’t an allowed to do it in or around the truck because they don’t want that bad image.

“You’ve seen the after maths of our fights y/n. the amount off times you had to clean me up in john b bathroom can make you a certified emt!?”

“Okay he’s bad jj whatever you say” she said somewhat agreeing. It’s true, she had cleaned up the boy more than 5 times. So much that you had 2 first aide kits. One in your car and under John bs sink.

“But it’s weird though that he tipped $50 was it out of pity?” he said taking another hit

“Yeah a little but I’m not complaining” y/n said starting her car. Jj grabs the aux playing his playlist, the song “Cinderella” by Mac Miller plays. She begins pulling out the parking lot headed towards John bs house.

“I mean from what I noticed, him and topper are there like practically everyday. Like I know I’m only there like 2 times a week or the weekends but everytime I work they’re always there”

“Jj they’re just loyal customers-”

“Yea but don’t get me wrong your foods good, like I would always eat there compared to what I have at home but wouldn’t they get tired of it? They have money they can get like expensive stuff like sushi or whatever” there silence in the car. Y/n sat thinking that he had a point. she’s practically there everyday in the summer and they’re always there.

“Yea you’re onto something” she agreed

“What if they’re spying on us? What if they know about the royal merchant?” Jj squinted looking suspicious

“Jj when have we ever talked about the money or anything related to that at work”

“Yeah you’re right…”

“But that still doesn’t explain why they’re always there” jj soon gasped

“What if your mom was right? What if they have the hots for you? Your things are always out” he said motioning to her breasts .

He said quickly turning towards the girl.

“Jj come on -”

“Nah it couldn’t be that. They hate us and beside they wouldn’t touch, let alone date a pouge” he said with a laugh. For a minute y/n felt offended that he said that.

“Jj what do you mean? Like I wouldn’t even have a chance with him ?” Y/n scoffed rolling her eyes.

“In a way. Like it’s totally not about you but he wouldn’t even step foot in the cut. We’re too poor for him.” He said calmly

“Well I hope you know i can get any guy I want” she said cockily

“Y/n it’s not about you. Your personality, looks or anything. He probably just wants to date someone with a trust fund or a matching black card.” Jj say defending himself

“Let’s just drop it alright”

“They would be lucky you bag you y/n” he said taking a hit and hitting her shoulder.

After a couple minutes they reached John bs chateau. She parked in his makeshift driveway and they went inside to the back porch finding them all there.

“What up” Jj say before crashing down on the only empty chair.

“Hey guys how was your shift?” Kiara asked

“Busy but money is money so” y/n said sitting in the arm chair of the couch beside John b

“Rafe and topper were there again.” Jj complained

“Again? Don’t you get tired of complaining ever jay?” Y/n throwing her head back.

“Guys y/n thinks Rafe isn’t a bad guy”

“Who would ever think that” Sarah said walking in. Y/n gets off the arm chair letting her sit in John bs lap.

“Me” y/n said with a flat smile

“If Sarah his own sister for crying out loud, would agree why wouldn’t you?” Jj argued

“I don’t know, like I get the sibling hatred and your guys drama but I’ve never met him. I wouldn’t want to stick him to what other people say. What if people did that about us ?”

“They do y/n” Pope said.

“Yeah so you know how it feels. I want to at least have an interaction with him before I put a label on. Let’s just stop alright I’ve had this argument already.” and with that they just put on a movie ignoring the tension between the two.

Halfway through the movie she got a notification on her phone. She pulls it out to check and sees it’s from a random number. She ignores it knowing it’s probably spam but then there’s another ding. She takes it out and opens up the messages.

“Hey”

“I’ve been waiting for you to text me pouge princess.”

Rafe.

“How’d you get my number?”

“I have my ways.”

Weird. The only contact she had were the pouges, parents and Sarah. He must’ve looked through her phone.

“Kinda weird but I like it”

she texted back with a small giggle.

“Who you texting y/n” pope asked

“Oh it’s just my dad. He sent a stupid meme” she said rolling her eyes playfully. She looked back the screen reading his reply

“You love crazy or what?”

“Yes it’s hot”

she replied knowing she would regret it later.

“Well you’re in for a ride. Wanna hang out tn? I’ll pick you up.”

“Yes I’ll love too.”

“Your place 7:00 See you then princess”

With the clock reading 6:22 she got up from the floor and got her bag.

“Uh my dad needs me at the truck so I gotta go. Text me what we’re doing tomorrow. Bye guys” she said pacing to the front door while they yelled their goodbyes.

She gets in her car and heads home. By the time she got there it was 6:45. She quickly headed inside and went straight to her room. She looked though her closet because all she had was on was of John bs shirt she put on after jj spilled cheese on hers. She was nervous on what to wear, this was her first date in a while. Sure she had her little situation ships but she felt nervous. She decided on a black denim mini skirt and blue tube top with her black adidas superstars. She quickly fixed her hair fluffing it and put her favorite scent on. Soon she got a text from Rafe

“I’m outside”

She quickly grabbed her bag and put on her lipgloss and went out the door. She saw his truck in her drive way then she walked to the passenger door. Before she could open it Rafe leaned over the center console and opened it for her from inside.

“Ah thank you Rafe. Such a gentlemen.” Y/n joked

“Chivalry isn’t dead princess” Rafe replied

“So what are we gonna do?” She asked

“Um I don’t sure I didn’t really have a plan. I was just hoping to hang out” he said with a small smile

“What about froyo ?” Y/n offered

“Yea sure I’m down. Here’s the aux, your tonight’s dj” he handed her the aux and started backing out her driveway. She plugged it in and Tyler the creator started playing.

“Is this a boy is a gun?” Rafe asked

“Yea, are you a Tyler fan?”

“Um yes. His Igor album was good I have it on vinyl. I don’t have a player but I keep it for the ‘aesthetic’ ” he joked

“Yeah I love his music though his old stuff is a little more scary in a way”

“I guess but his goblin album is iconic. ‘She’ I have on repeat and ‘Goblin’ has to be my favorite on that album and ‘tron cat’. thought my favorite song has to be New magic wand.” Rafe said

“Oh well yea I agree with ‘She’ it’s good but I don’t know the albums a little dark for me, I like ‘flower boy’ it’s more, happier you know ? and ‘cherry bomb’ ”

She couldn’t lie he was weird he liked that album. “True Tyler fans” wouldn’t mind it but it had to many vulgar topics for her. Soon the songs “feel no ways” by Drake, thankful for the somewhat mood change.

“See Drake is so good like he’s been around for so long and still can’t seem to miss” y/n commented

“Yea Drakes nice, I’ve been listening to him since middle school this has to be my favorite album.”

Couple minutes past with small talk and singing along in the car. They soon arrived to the froyo place. They walk in rafe grabbing him a medium cup and y/n the same.

They fill it up to the limit of their dreams and putting whatever toppings would fit. Rafe went for a more fruity taste with strawberry shortcake frozen yogurt with chocolate toppings, y/n with a the birthday cake and adding fruit and candy. He pulled out his infamous black card and paid for the both of them, they sat outside on the patio watching the sunset.

“So Rafe, what do you like to do?” Y/n asked trying to spark a convo

“Well I like going to the country club and hitting the golf course with topper and Kelce. I’m helping my dad with the Cameron development and learning real estate with him and Rose, it’s somewhat interesting and fun when he doesn’t get too mad” he said with a laugh “what about you?”

“Well when I’m not working I’m hanging out with jj and the others. I also love volunteering at the animal shelter. I love learning to work on my car with my dad and I love going off roading even though my poor Edward can’t handle it” she said with a frown

“Wait did you make your car? And named it Edward ?” he laughed

“Yes it’s me and him against the world. I named him after the vampire from twilight.” she said proudly.

“Honestly twilight would’ve been a better name.”

“Oh shush!” She said playfully hitting him.

They finished their dessert and head to the car. They’re just talking while Rafe drives around anywhere and everywhere. The soon make it on the beach. Rafe parks not too far and they walk hand in hand.

“How did you know where I lived? I never gave you my address” she finally asked

“Rose sold you your house. I work with her and my dad remember?” He told her squeezing her hand for reassurance.

“Oh yeah that adds up I guess” she hummed even though it didn’t. They bought the house before Rafe was born and he was older than the girl.

They continued to walk along the coast just talking and getting to know eachother. Everything the pouges said about him didn’t add up. He was sweet, charming and funny. He wasn’t the money hungry asshole, he was the 19 helping with family business guy who loved hip hop and chocolate. His favorite animal is a shark and favorite color is blue. He doesn’t take anyone’s shit and he’s potent in a way.

“Hey Rafe, you know I’ve heard many stories about you.”

“Oh really ? Like what” he asked concered

“You know, you’re the frat playboy. The bad boy that doesn’t play by the rules, who gets in and trouble and party’s like crazy” y/n explained

“jj always told me you were the bad guy. You wouldn’t even breathe the same air as a pouge. But you’re not the monster they play you out to be” she said looking at him. He turns the same way and they’re looking eachother in the eyes. It’s silence, it’s like they’re reading each other, look deep down into their souls something connecting in them.

“Y/n I know you want to think I’m perfect but I’m not. I really do get in fights, you seen them with jj. I don’t really mean harm or anything bad. I don’t let people disrespect me or my family like that. Jj knows how to push my buttons and he does it freely thinking he can get away with it”

“Yea I can’t argue with that.” She said with a grin

“I don’t understand how you can be friends with them. Mainly jj, he’s deep into this mindset aching like the words against him and that goes well with some pouges. But you, you’re different. You know hard work, your whole family does. You don’t take shit from anyone you see strong indepents-”

“Rafe please dont bring kook vs pouge talk into this.”

“Your right I’m sorry” he said caressing her cheek.

“I just think you deserve more. You deserve all the happiness in the world. You deserve peace. I want to make you feel that way. I want you to live the fullest you can. I wanna help you touch the stars” he said looking into her eyes, his free hand pulling her closer, hand against her lower back.

“I wanna give you everything.” Rafe whispered out to her before pulling her into a kiss.

The kiss was soft yet rough. The way their lips fit perfectly together. They way they melted in each others arms. The taste of chocolate lingering in Rafe mouths mixed with a candy taste of y/n. The kiss was intoxicating, they wouldn’t back out and the only reason they did was for y/n to catch her breath although the hungry look in Rafe eyes made it seem he wouldn’t have.

The only source of living being admitted was the moon, the way it shined against Rafes skin and his perfectly chiseled facial features made him look beautiful like a diamond. His ice blue like blue sky she always look at hoping for a chance of change. The way the 2 pieces of his hair perfectly failing in front of his face after what they just did.

“Let’s head back” y/n said with their foreheads together, their breathing getting back to normal.

They walk to the car, y/n leaning on Rafes shoulder as he had his arm wrapped around her. He opened the car door for her letting he get in and buckling her up. She connects her phone and plays frank ocean as he gets the car started. One hand on the wheel the other tangled up with her hand. The ride was peaceful and euphoric vibes filled the car. They shared small little childhood stories and embarrassing memories to each other. The 20 minute commute from the beach to y/n house felt like 5. Once Rafe Parked in her driveway they shared another deep kiss.

“Goodnight Rafe, I’ll text you tomorrow morning, drive safe”

“Good my princess” he said pulling her into one last kiss not wanting to part.

She gets out and shuts the car door, walking to her home. Rafe doesn’t drive off until she’s shuts the door behind her. It’s around 9:45pm her parents are still working the night shift. She grabs a clean pairs of clothes and heads to the bathroom. Soon shes in bed thinking about her date with Rafe. The pouges were wrong about him, he was literally the boy she dreamed, almost picture perfect. They 100% never saw the side of Rafe she did but she also didn’t see what they saw.

As Rafe drives home, he thinks about y/n. y/n is the girl of his dreams, the girl he wants, craves, needs. Once he get home he sends her a quick text.

“I made it home. I had a really great time today, thank you for letting me take you out y/n. I really hope we can do this again. Good night my princess.”

Y/n got the ding and immediately responded back

“Glad you made it home safe! Thank you for asking me out if not I wouldn’t have met the real Rafe. I’m glad I got to share this night with you. Good night and sweet dreams <3”

Y/n feel into a deep sleep after the most magical night of her life. She wished for more nights like these with Rafe without knowing what he had in stored for her.

Like the imfmouse Tyler the creator lyric said:

“My plan was to stick my toe in to check the temperature but next thing you know, I’m drowning.”

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Tags: @soberbabes

Happy Valentine’s Day 💌🎀

I know we all wished we had our man today bu I hope my pt.2 helps 🤭

*no edited/proof read

Lmk what you guys think !!

Feel free to dm to talk about a pt.3 or continuing my story plot 🌟

#💌#obx netflix #rafe cameron #obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #john b routledge #jj mayback x reader #soft rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #topper thornton

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you.

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding.

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.”

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside.

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you.

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up.

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together.

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided.

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked.

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home.

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N.

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach.

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers.

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning.

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all.

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe.

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers.

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off.

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too.

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up.

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday.

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!”

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house.

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC.

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up.

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred.

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath.

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester fanfic #football au

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zedif-y · 8 months

Text

“So,” Joel says. “D’you think Tango would talk to me if I broke the bow again?”

Which, obviously, is a joke. Obviously. He’s a blummin’ actor, for goodness sake. He can handle an audience of one.

Even if that audience is Tango. And also– not quite an audience, is it, when you’re just two people having a conversation–

Grian pauses, looking up from where he's been checking Joel’s outfit, one hand tracing a seam. "Joel," He replies, deadpan. "You are not breaking another prop just ‘cuz you're bad at talking to people."

Joel bristles, oi! “I’m not bad at–!”

"Then talk to him like a normal person!" Grian retorts, rolling his eyes. He focuses his attention back on the costume, "Pretty sure he'll notice and chew you out for it anyway. I'm doing you a favor by telling you this, really." Joel scoffs.

He’s choosing not to reply to that, by the way. It’s a choice.

Joel lets Grian do his thing, double-checking his costume until Joel’s arms grow tired of staying up, pinning stuff into place and calling Cleo over for makeup stuff. Joel lets his mind drift, letting Grian lead him in front of a vanity mirror– Ah, look. His handsome face.

Joel studies his reflection for a moment, turning his head this way and that. And just before Grian leaves–

“…Would he really get mad?”

Grian pauses in the doorway, “Huh?” He frowns for a moment, squinting, then sighs. “Yes, Joel. You’re not that cute.”

“Oi!”

Grian lets the door shut with a click, his cackling muffled as he goes. That little…

Joel huffs, glowering at his reflection.

“Not that cute,” He grumbles. “I’m plenty cute. The cutest.”

Someone knocks on the door. Cleo pokes their head in, “Hey, Joel.”

“Hey,” He hasn’t stopped glaring at his reflection. “Don’t ask about Grian.”

Cleo lets herself in, “Wasn’t going to,” She says simply. “Now stop sulking and let me do your makeup.”

With great effort, (not really) Joel relaxes his face, his features smoothing out.

He looks good, is the thing. No matter what Grian has to say. Joel looks– good. Attractive. Drop-dead gor– whatever. The point is, he’s handsome, and he could woo whoever he wanted. Definitely.

(He thinks of Tango, gold-spun hair catching the stage lights, red eyes dark as wine.)

…Probably.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Ugh, he’s gonna be thinking about that all day, won’t he?

Stupid Grian.

—

(“Cleo,” Joel starts. “Am I hot?”

The brush on his face stops.

“The fuck?”)

—

He breaks the prop again.

In his defense, it was still mostly an accident. Mostly.

"How."

Joel squirms a little under Tango's gaze, hoo boy.

He holds up the broken prop bow, "Ehh, the uh. The thing is, I keep, like, using too much strength on it?" He grins, straightening his back. "You know, 'cuz I'm so strong and stuff. Happens uh, all the time, you know?” At Tango’s silence, he tacks on, “…It's annoying."

Tango raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Joel's grin goes lopsided, withering under the look.

"I– uh," He thins his lips, runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. "...Sorry?"

Tango’s tail sways a little behind him, His arms are crossed, just. Looking at him.

Okay, Joel thinks, palms starting to sweat. Maybe Grian was right.

“You realize I’m not even a props guy, right?” Tango asks. Joel swallows. “Official title’s set designer.”

Joel is so fucked.

“I knew that,” Joel manages, still clutching the damn prop. “Just– you helped me fix it last time.”

And the time before that. And, also, the time before that.

…Joel’s sweating up a damn storm over here.

Eventually, Tango sighs.

"C'mere, I've got something for ya."

Joel's eyebrows leap up. He follows Tango as he leads him deeper backstage, past costume racks and other stage tech-y stuff– none of which Joel can make heads or tails of.

His mind races with questions, half of his brain going why is he leading me all the way back here while the other half is really trying not to ogle at Tango’s–

"There it is," Tango says, jolting him out of his thoughts. He scoops up what looks like a small toolkit, holds it out to Joel. "Here, for the next time you manage to break that poor bow again."

Joel opens his mouth, closes it again. He just stands there, dumbfounded and cheeks burning with shame, "I don't know how to–"

"You've seen me do it like five times, haven't you?" Tango asks, teasing. Joel's going to die. "You're a big boy, you can do it."

What'd he just call me, "Right," Joel squeaks, "That's– Right. Yeah."

He reaches out to grab it–

But Tango pulls it back, his grin growing wider.

"Wha–?"

Tango tilts his head, "There are better ways to get my attention, you know."

Joel's heart leaps into his throat.

He’s so fucked–!

It must show on his face, too, because then Tango laughs and it would've been a win if it weren't at him– "I'm serious, man! You didn't have to do all that stuff– You thought I wouldn’t notice?"

Tango shakes his head, gives Joel the toolkit. He closes Joel’s hand around it with his own.

Joel's breath hitches in his throat– Tango’s touch burns but in a good way, like sunlight on skin, like–

"It's not like you needed help getting my attention, anyway."

If this were a movie, Joel thinks this is where he’d hear a record scratch.

Hold on. Rewind. What?

Tango looks surprised, “Did you really not know?”

“I–” Joel closes his mouth. He’s trying to form words, honest, Tango’s hand is just so warm– “Would you believe me if I said I knew?”

Tango laughs, (Again! Joel’s mind crows.) “It wouldn’t be your best performance, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Answer’s no, then,” Joel replies, strangled. A pause. “No as in, I didn’t know– oh gosh, I hope I’m reading this right–”

Tango’s hand falls away, amusement twinkling in his red eyes. Joel tries to remember how to breath.

Tango’s lips pull up into a smile, “You know, you’re way different off-stage.”

Ouch. “Sorry to disappoint,” Joel blurts out, a faint sting in his chest. Tango’s eyes go wide.

“That’s not what I meant!” His tail lashes in panic, “You’re– you’re a completely different person on-stage, you know? Which I get is the point, you’re amazing, just…”

Joel blinks. Is his brain melting out of his ears? It feels like his brain is melting out of his ears.

It echoes in his head, you’re amazing.

A faint red dusts Tango’s cheeks, “…I think I kind of prefer the real deal.”

“Oh,” Joel says, voice faint. Tango’s blush deepens.

“I just made this weird, didn’t I–”

Joel’s brain kicks into gear, finally, “D’you wanna go out some time?” He asks. His hands shake, just a little. “Cuz I think you’re bloody brilliant, Tango, so if you’re gonna be saying stuff like that,” He swallows. “You better at least let me take you out to coffee.”

Tango’s grin is blinding, “Only if you promise to stop breaking props.”

Joel laughs, a giddy rush in his chest.

“I promise.”

(At the back of his mind– Take that, Grian!)

—

Somehow, somewhere, Grian just sneezed.

#ryan's writing #joeltek #joel smallishbeans #tangotek #tango tek #trafficshipping #trafficship #trafficshipblr #trafficblr #mcyt #mcyt au #idk . another au be upon ye (probably not gonna continue this tho)#grian #hes an important character. trust #not tagging cleo bc theyre there for 2 seconds

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darlingshane · 1 year

Text

fiesta in your mouth

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2k

Summary: – @anna-hawk requested: I would love a sexy drabble with Reader being hungry... for food. The food is taking forever to arrive and they start bickering about Reader's impatience. It ends with Reader biting Shane's ass cause, well, HUNGRY. Except hungry for more now 😏.

Content/Warnings: explicit, smut, oral sex, food, eating, playful banter, crack, some fluff.

-- Read below or at AO3.

It's another lazy night, hanging out at your boyfriend's, waiting for the food to arrive. And as per usual, your stomach starts protesting impatiently after an hour of just sitting around, watching TV.

It's always the same when you leave Shane in charge of either cooking or ordering. He's not a bad cook, he just doesn't have the time, or he's too tired after work to do so. And when it comes to ordering via app, he's not very tech-savvy and often screws up the order.

“Ugh, when it’s the food coming?” you complain, lolling your head back against the edge of the couch to watch Shane coming out of the hallway half-naked with just a pair of black sweats hanging low on his hips after taking a shower.

“Why are you always so hungry?”

“Why are you not?” You whine, “you said we were eating an hour ago.”

“Don’t be such a brat. Food will be here soon,” your boyfriend states, plopping down on the couch next to you with his knees widely apart.

His curls slightly drip water on his bare shoulders while he flips channels on the TV, and you reach to swipe them with your fingers.

“Are you sure you ordered and paid right?”

“'Course, I’m sure. Stop being a pest. You should’ve eaten something before getting here.”

“You said you were cooking, I was saving myself for you.”

“You mean your virginity? I think that ship sailed a long time ago, sweetheart,” he quips, pinching the side of your hip, and you swat the back of your hand against his bicep.

“What did you order anyway?” You wonder.

“Mexican. I got all your favorites… arroz con pollo, crunchy tacos, nachos, enchiladas… A whole fiesta for your mouth. Better than my cooking, right?” He then reaches for his phone to check the Postmates app. “Look, it’ll be here in half an hour.”

“Another half hour?”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to cook like I said,” his mouth draws a playful smirk, “but if you were that hungry, you’d have lifted that sweet ass off the couch a long time ago, and made dinner yourself like women are supposed to do. But lil miss grumpy pants here doesn't like cooking, doesn't she?”

“I could punch you for even joking about that, asshole.”

“I'd love to see you try.”

“Is that a dare?”

“C'mon, let's see what you got,” he grins, and stands up, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants higher.

Then, he pushes the coffee table towards the TV console to have some more space, and holds his palms up, inviting you to spar amicably.

You stand in front of him, wiggling your fingers before closing both hands into fists. You start punching either of his palms alternately while he taunts you about how weak your blows are, mocking your flimsy arms, and terrible posture. You double down and hit harder until your knuckles start hurting, while he relentlessly jeers at you.

Getting all worked up, you decide to go for his face instead, but your hook is keenly intercepted before landing.

Shane quickly pins your wrists at your back afterwards, and your boxing session turns into wrestling. You escape his hold several times, but then you end up pinned down on the floor in the most awkward position with your body held and twisted around him in a way that your face is facing his ass while he struggles to keep you like that.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna give up, sweetheart?” he drawls, half panting.

“Never,” you laugh and manage to get one of your hands free to pull his sweats down and uncover his stinking cute booty. Without warning, you take a big bite at the curve of his hips, firmly marking your teeth on his ass.

“The hell are you doing?”

“Told you I was hungry. I needed a nibble of those delicious buns,” you bite his butt again, pressing harder, until he releases you.

“You’re a savage,” he grumbles, as you unclench your teeth to see that bright, pink love bite you’ve stamped on his white ass.

“If you forfeit, I win!” you exclaim in victory, rolling on the floor to have your back against the rug, and pushing both your arms up.

“I don’t think so,” his tongue swipes his lips before having him on top of you again.

He pulls your arms down and straddles your chest, placing his crotch awfully close to your face.

“Let's see how hungry you really are,” his lips curve up lewdly, as he pushes his sweats and boxer briefs down, showing his limp cock.

You lick your lips in anticipation, watching him pumping himself a couple of times until he’s half hard.

Then, he playfully taps the bulbous tip of his length against your lips, purring, “want some of this, darlin'?”

You eagerly nod.

“Okay, show me your tongue, and I'll feed you.”

Doing as he says, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

With a fist curled around the underside of his cock, he places it on the wet surface of your tongue and strokes back and forth until his semi erection blooms into rock-hard perfection with a bittersweet wet dripping that comes out of his slit.

“Now close your lips and have at it.”

Letting him guide-boss you like this is one of your biggest turn-ons, and you can already feel the sweet arousal coiling madly in your core with just a taste of him.

Your eyes are locked with his when you wrap our mouth around his flared tip. You inhale and start bobbing our head forwards as much as this position lets you.

Starting slowly, you let your mouth take inch after inch, watching him bask in the delicious undoing of your ways. You hum and go a little faster as he braces his palms on the floor over your head.

“Keep going, darlin’,” he grunts between praises and curses, losing his breath the harder you go, “I’m almost… fuck yeah, just like that, sweetheart.”

The pace of your mouth picks up, sucking him dry, and moaning against his steel-erection throbbing against your tongue. It drives him wild. You can feel it in the way he erratically starts thrusting into your mouth at the same time with nothing but desperation pressing in his center.

“You wanted me to fill your dirty mouth exactly like this, huh?” he grunts coarsely, and you can barely nod, as his cock starts twitching a second before having his seed spilled at the back of your throat.

He comes with a loud strangled moan and after every drop is out he takes his cock away, and places a palm over your mouth.

“Sh, sh, sh. Don’t spill it, baby,” he grins at you, half panting, “I wanna see you swallow.”

Your lips quirk up beneath his palm before gulping every drop of his sticky essence down your throat. You then open your mouth and show him.

“Good girl,” he exhales, lying on top of you as he comes down from his high, “who’s the winner now?”

“You are, baby,” you chuckle, running your palms up and down his back as he presses himself between your legs. He’s not as hard, but you can still feel it behind the fabric of your leggings.

“Are you still hungry, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, a little. You promised a fiesta for my mouth and that was just a… a bitter spoon of yogurt past its expiration date at best.”

He snorts at your words, “say what you will, but I bet that made you wet.”

Pressing your teeth on your bottom lip, you give him a quick nod.

“Yeah? Do you want me to take care of that?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re greedy as fuck, baby,” he laughs.

“Not as much as you are.”

“Yeah, probably not,” he accepts and draws in some air before sliding down your body, taking your clothes off, so he can give you the same release.

He buries his face between your legs and just as his tongue starts teasing your folds, the door buzzer goes off at the worst possible moment.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you utter in frustration.

“Tough luck, sweetheart,” he pulls his head back, amused, glancing at you, “looks like we’re going to have to postpone this.”

“Ugh,” you let out as he pulls himself up, yanking his underwear and sweats on, to answer the door.

“Hey, don’t complain, the food is here. Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chuckles and buzzes the delivery guy in.

“I guess,” you mumble, hot and bothered, as you slip into your shirt, and take a seat on the couch, covering your kegs with the throw before Shane opens the door.

After collecting the food, he places the containers from your favorite Mexican restaurant on the coffee table, and drags it back to its former position near the couch.

You pick a random unlabeled container, open it, and instantly forget about the interruption after finding out he ordered churros.

Glancing at you as he pulls the lid off another, Shane catches you smiling while sinking your teeth into one.

“Those are for dessert.”

“Says who? I gotta get the taste of your churro out of my mouth somehow. This will do.”

“Well,” he licks his lips and yanks the blanket off you to uncover your legs, “if you’re gonna have dessert first, I should too.”

“Yeah, have at it,” you chuckle as he kneels on the floor, pushing your knees apart, and dragging your ass closer to the edge of the couch.

You take another bite of your churro and put it aside as he props your thighs over his shoulders.

He gazes at you one more time before diving into your pussy. The eager tip of his tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, teases at your entrance, and every spot he can find to drive you out of your mind, avoiding your clit altogether.

Your fingers slide into his half-dried curls as he circles around it, barely grazing the peak of that swollen bud that’s aching for more significant stimulation. Filled with anticipation, your grip anxiously pulls at his hair as he takes his sweet time, savoring every inch of you.

His lips curve up against your folds, and you exhale, letting his name fall from your lips when he finally latches around your impatient clit.

Letting your head fall backwards, you close your eyes and drink in the mind-numbing sucking of his lips, taking you up to cloud nine with practice ease. One of his hands slips under your shirt to grab your breast while the other keeps a firm grip around your thigh with his fingers pressed on your mound.

Your body lights up with every lick and hum served in all the right places as he works you up to the highest level. He channels that electric jolt of your body to press a little harder until you fall completely apart at the mercy of his lips.

He pulls his head back, gently soothing his palms on your thighs while you slowly come down from your high. It takes you a moment to open your eyes, and when you do you see him using his fingers to clean the edges of his mouth covered in you.

“Welcome back, baby.”

Speechless, you simply smile at him as a response, as your breathing evens out.

“That good, huh?” he utters with his usual smugness, as if he didn't already know how to make you lose your mind like that.

He then rises from his knees and sits up, pulling you into his lap, linking his arms around your waist as you hug his neck.

“You taste sweeter than honey,” he whispers against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh and pull back, so you can look at his eyes.

“Love leaving you without words, sweetheart,” he sweetly smiles, and you sigh, delighted, before capturing his lips.

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