#Chase n Cashe
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Oh my god, I never shared this...
I was intending to make an eene x knd crossover comic with this that would have theoretically taken place directly after the B&M crossover (since the Eds technically did appear) but my motivation to do so fell flat on its ass...
I was going to make Jonny and Plank secret KND members because I thought it'd be fun, and like, his Captain Melonhead persona was his KND alter ego, he already has a secret tree-house base with a bunch of tech, I thought it fit rather well.
Maybe one day I'll think about making it again... who knows. It's a lot of work to make comics for someone with so little free time. 😞
(Also I'll give you a quarter if you can figure out why I assigned Jonny the Numbuh 4031 🤭)
#torras art#codename kids next door#ed edd n eddy#jonny 2x4#plank#Jonny would have just been a small part of the comic#the plot would have revolved around Eddy trying to steal their ship for cash lmao#scamming the knd into thinking he's gonna repair it and they have to chase him down#and 4031 helps lol#also yes I bought the KND font for like 50 bucks bc I'm an adult who's totally responsible with my money...#I like to collect fonts okay lmao#I made this like a month ago#and forgot about it
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broken promises
pt two
bodyguard!logan howlett x congressman's daughter!reader
a/n: the fact that he was canonically a bodyguard makes me absolutely insane someone congratulate me, I finally figured out how to make my own dividers Summary: He's learned from past mistakes that no matter how tempting the girl is, it's better not to get involved. He just needs some cash, he doesn't give a fuck how pretty you are. He doesn't care about you. He makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you besides seeing you sign his check. But, is that really all he wants? You're not blind to the way he looks at you. 18+ MDNI Shameless smut at the end, I'm not sorry about it at all.
Logan had gotten used to this. The long drawn-out wait to meet with the man who wanted to hire him. He always arrived right on time, not a moment earlier. They all had the same game they liked to play.
The secretary would greet him, a pretty girl in her 20s that the men were screwing or trying to screw. Then they would make him sit in the lobby for half an hour. They’d apologize by pushing the blame on someone else, saying a meeting had gone on too long. But there wasn’t a meeting. There never was.
They liked to make themselves seem more important than they were. It was a power game, an intimidation tactic that he had always scoffed at. He didn’t give a fuck what government ties they had or otherwise. He just wanted his paycheck.
This one was no different. A congressman who had only recently begun to make waves when he started up an anti-mutant agenda. Ironic that he had specifically requested Logan for the very thing he was trying to eradicate.
There was a buzz and then the secretary was picking up her phone. She spared Logan a fleeting glance before whispering something into the receiver. She looked over at him and he already knew what she was going to say. “He’s ready for you now.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” she gave him a coquettish smile as he made his way towards the large office at the end of the hall. The door was closed when he reached it, three quick knocks and then a quiet Come in.
The man didn’t even look up to greet him. He continued signing something on his desk. Logan took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for another few minutes before he was deemed important enough to address. He received a tight smile and narrowed eyes as the man took in the way he was dressed.
He never dressed up for these things. He’d learned a while ago that a suit wasn’t going to get him any further than his leather jacket was. Might as well be comfortable while talking to these pricks.
“Had a phone call with an associate of mine. Ran on longer than I meant it to.” Always an excuse, never an apology.
Logan scoffed and shrugged. “I was fine.”
The man sniffed, “I’m sure. Look, I’ll cut straight to the chase. You come highly recommended by my peers and I need help fast.” Logan nodded, motioning for him to continue. The man’s eyes lingered on his fists for a long while before he finished. “It’s my daughter. Things have been a little rough for her at school, for lack of a better word. Especially since this new campaign started. I just need someone to keep a closer eye on her.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, “She a party girl or something?” He wasn’t sure he could handle another bratty daddy’s girl again. The last one had nearly made him blow his brains out. They always think flipping their skirts up will let them get away with more and he can’t stand it.
The man’s face blanched and he shook his head so vigorously that his jowls moved with him. “Oh, no, not at all. But she’s,” he paused and lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Logan and waited for Logan to do the same. He rolled his eyes but did it anyway. “She’s like you, you know.”
Logan shot him a grin, “You mean a mutant.”
“Lower your voice,” he hissed, face tightening up in anger. “But, yes, a mutant. And I need one to guard her.” Ironic, this man was driving a campaign to make mutants second-class citizens, and his daughter was one. But Logan needed a check, he didn’t give a fuck about the morals of it all.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Perfect, you can pick her up from school for me.”
You had your earbuds in, head lowered while you made the trek across campus when you noticed him. He was difficult to miss, tall and buff. Very buff, you’re surprised that tank top of his hasn’t ripped every time he flexes.
Your dad’s newest campaign has you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You can’t afford to let your guard down. Not after the last attack.
There’s something about this man that tells you he isn’t someone looking to jump you, though. You’re not sure what it is. Every part of him screams danger, but not the type you’re looking out for. The cigar perched between his lips, the glistening muscles you want to bite, he’s trouble.
When you spot him outside your lecture hall for the third time that day, you finally figure out what’s happening. Your dad had told you he’d hired someone new to watch over you at school. You hadn’t voiced just how against it you were, but you didn’t like the idea.
You didn’t mind this guy, though. He wasn’t busting into your classes and embarrassing the shit out of you by making everyone empty their pockets like the last guy. He just lingered. You could deal with lingering.
What you couldn’t deal with was the way he was leaning against his motorcycle, smirking as you slowly approached him.
“Did my dad hire you?” You call out, tugging your earbuds out. “Who are you?”
He speaks around the cigar like it's second nature. “Your new bodyguard, sweetheart.” You suck in a deep breath when you hear his voice. He’s extremely attractive, you're surprised your dad would risk this.
One of the other ones had kind of gotten a little obsessed, stalking you even in his off hours. You didn’t think your dad would want another pretty boy around you. Though, you suppose this one isn’t pretty. He’s extremely handsome, ruggedly so, very manly. Jesus, you might end up being the stalker this time.
His lips curl up like he knows what you’re thinking about. You clear your throat, shifting your backpack higher up your arm. “You planning on taking me home on that?” You ask, pointing at his bike.
He straightens up and shrugs. “Got a problem with the bike?”
You grin, “Not really,” but your dad will. “No, not at all.”
You walk towards him and he reaches out, grabbing your backpack straps and tugging you towards him. You stumble, hands bracing against his chest so you don’t land flat on your face. “Sorry, kid,” but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He buckles the straps of your backpack together and tightens them, puffing smoke in your face while he does. “Don’t want this flying off.”
“Mhm,” you hum. You’re not paying attention at all. The only thing you care about right now is just how ripped he is under your hands. You’re not sure how long you gawk at him but he seems to be ridiculously amused by it.
“Ready to go home, or what?” You jump back from him, brushing your hands off on your leggings and clearing your throat.
“Yes, yeah.” You rip your eyes off his body and instead focus on the bike. “No helmets?” You ask.
“You heal, don’t you?” You nod and he shrugs. “Don’t need them then, do we?”
You can’t help the giddy grin on your face at that. It’s gotten tiring being treated like glass. You’re about to get on the bike when you finally process what he said. “Wait, how do you know I heal?”
He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, his gaze darts down to his fists. Your eyes widen when you see the metal poking through the skin. Of course, your father would only tell another mutant about his abomination of a daughter. You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s such a fucking hypocrite.
Logan climbs on the bike and you follow after him. You're hesitant to wrap your arms around his waist but he just reaches behind himself and jerks you forward.
You suck in a sharp breath, pelvis tight against his ass while he squeezes your hands. “You want to go flying?” You shake your head and he chuckles, starting the bike and driving off without another word.
Part of you loves the ride home, the other part detests it. For once you get to experience a little freedom. You’re not trapped in a steel box staring at the back of a car seat while the man beside you pretends he doesn’t exist.
You can feel the wind in your hair, get a taste of real speed, and enjoy a moment uninterrupted by someone’s expectations of you. On the other hand, Logan does not respect speeding laws. And healing abilities or not, you don’t actually want to experience road rash.
He manages to get you home in one piece, parking the motorcycle in the driveway and waiting for you to get off. But you can’t, your thighs have been clenching the seat so tight you think they might need to scrape you off.
“Kid?” He mutters. You shake your head against his back, arms still strangling his waist. It was actually kind of fucking terrifying being on one of these things. You can’t tell if you loved or hated it.
He lets out a rough sigh, forcibly moving your arms and then tugging you off the seat. Your legs are like jello while you try and straighten out. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks. You can’t manage much more than a strangled hum and he laughs.
You turn to your front door and spot a leering face peering out the window. “Shit,” you huff. Your stepmother sees you spot her and disappears from view. You feel your hopes of ever getting back on that bike go with her.
“You took her home on your bike!”
“Well-”
You flinch at the volume of your father’s voice. “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! I will not have my daughter seen riding that monstrosity! You are not to do this again, do you understand me?”
You don’t know what Logan says, but you’re certain it’s not the submissive Yes, sir your father is looking for. He continues shouting at him for another ten minutes. When you hear the door to his office open you scramble to look like you hadn’t been listening in.
But you’re a bad actress and if his huff of laughter is anything to go by, Logan knows what you were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” He asks, pointing back to your father’s, now closed, study.
You nod, pursing your lips with an apologetic smile. “If it helps, I was really hoping he wouldn’t do that.”
He shrugs, “I don’t really give a fuck how much he wants to scream at me.” It’s refreshing, to finally have someone in the house who doesn’t kiss your father’s ass. It makes you smile, a real genuine smile for the first time in a while.
You stand from the chair you’d been sitting in, gesturing further into your home. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten all day so I was thinking about making something.”
The smirk drops from his face, expression suddenly serious. It makes you tense up. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m here to get paid. I don’t want to be your friend, kid.”
You suck in a sharp breath, trying not to let the rejection sting. He’s a professional, it should be a relief after the last one. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”
He nods, “Right,” tone stiff. You stare at him for another awkwardly long moment before you finally turn on your heel and walk toward the kitchen. You rush there, speedwalking so you don’t have to look at him any longer.
You open up your fridge, keeping your back to him for as long as humanly possible. You can hear him take a seat at the island, can feel the way his eyes bore into you. It’s a physical thing, his gaze, makes chills scrape their way down your spine.
You make yourself a sandwich and finally force yourself to turn around. Like you’d expected, he’s already looking at you. Lips ticking up just slightly when you finally get the courage to look up at him.
Logan feels a little guilty. You weren’t coming onto him earlier, you were being genuine with your kindness. He knows there were no ulterior motives to it and there’s a very slight part of him that feels bad for making you so quiet. “Why’s your dad so pissy about the bike?”
You’re a little startled by the question, after the comment he made you’d thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You swallow down the rest of your bite and cough a little when the bread gets stuck on the roof of your mouth.
“He doesn’t want me to crash.”
“But you heal,” he points out bluntly and you can’t help but laugh a little.
“Yeah, that’s the problem. He doesn’t want me to crash and for someone to see that I miraculously healed. Having a freak for a daughter wouldn’t exactly help his campaign, would it?” You can’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in your voice. And you know Logan picks up on it because he doesn’t ask any more questions.
Your gaze drops to your plate and you finish the rest of your meal in silence. Or, you try to. “Got any plans tonight?”
You chuckle and give him an odd look. “No,” you respond sardonically. “None at all, prepare yourself for a very boring job. I don’t even know why he hired you, I never leave the house unless it's for school.”
“Yeah?” he muses, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested. More like he’s talking just to pass the time. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time at school.”
You suck in a sharp breath, a sudden wave of anger roiling through your gut. The cabinets behind you begin to shake and you wince in embarrassment, tamping down on your powers before you accidentally blow up the kitchen.
Logan watches the moment with subdued interest like he’s not all that surprised or impressed with the display. “Unless they were a PoliSci nerd, I was a nobody up until last year.” There’s no concealing the hate lurking within your words, “And then my dad took up this whole anti-mutant regime. Well, you can imagine how much the activists love me. I’ve just had a few incidents with some particularly passionate protestors.”
“Do you believe in it?”
Your eyes widen in surprise, you hadn’t expected him to actually continue the conversation. “What do you mean?”
He leans back, arms crossed across his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge. He shrugs, “The anti-mutant regime, do you agree with it?”
You open your mouth, the perfected script almost rolling off your tongue. But this isn’t some politician's son you’re wooing. You’re not the perfect daughter, you’re in your own home, finally talking to someone else like you.
“No.” You answer, voice strong in its conviction. “And every time I see one of his PAs running around with their little signs I want to ram the stick up their ass.”
He barks out a laugh, eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I think we might get along, kid.”
You try to ignore the way your cheeks warm at his words. You don’t want to be this affected by him, you’ve barely spoken to him. But this is the first person in a long time that you know with absolute certainty you can be honest with. He doesn’t care about protecting your political image or bowing to your father’s every whim.
It’s a relief, like a constricting weight being taken off your chest. You give him an easy smile and get up to wash your dishes. His eyes are on you again but they feel less oppressive this time. You’ve already forgotten the rule he’s set in place, you’re not supposed to be friends.
It’s going to be hard to remember that.
Your father tightens his grip around your waist until you feel like you might squeal. “Smile, now.” You raise your hand, taking the stairs up the stage and waving out at the crowd that’s formed. It’s hot today, your makeup would be melting off if it weren’t for the artists who put it on for you.
Always have to look good in front of the camera. All of you. Seeing Logan in a suit was certainly a surprise. You’re almost completely sure that your father had to give him a bonus to even consider wearing it today.
He looks good, but you honestly prefer him in the normal beater and leather jacket. It’s something so uniquely him. This is just a reminder of your reality, that nothing around you is real. It’s all pretty lies wrapped up in expensive clothes.
You have to bite your tongue and hold back a grimace when your father begins his speech. “First, we had to let them into our jobs. Now they’re in our schools! Our children aren’t safe, not when they’ve got loaded weapons sitting beside them! Because that’s exactly what they are, weapons of mass destruction that will take apart-”
“Fuck me,” you hiss under your breath. Your cheeks hurt from keeping this smile on your face. You’re struggling not to flinch every time the crowd surges up to agree with him, bigoted shouts making your ears bleed.
Logan’s brows raise and he gives you a brief glance over his shoulder. Your face pinches in confusion only for a moment before you quickly correct it. Still, you keep your lips nearly completely motionless as you whisper, “Can you hear me?”
You dart your gaze back down to him and catch the barest of nods. Your smile softens, becoming something real if only for a moment. You don’t say anything else, you don’t need to. It’s just a comfort to know someone else is there with you, seeing through the painted faces and plastic smiles.
There’s movement in the crowd. It cuts your father off midsentence. He peers over the podium, trying to get a better look at what’s happening. You hear someone scream and then the entire crowd is getting knocked to the ground.
You jump back in shock, everyone on stage still. The security, however, is rushing to get to you and your family. It’s too late, though, there’s a mutant in the crowd and his eyes are set on you. “Fuck you,” he screams out your father's name and lugs something at the stage.
You hear someone shout your name but it’s too late. Glass shatters against the side of your face. It takes less than a second for the pain to start. You can feel holes being burned through your skin, like living fire melting through your bones and gums. A scream rips out of your throat, your hands coming up to block your face too late.
“Get her out of here!”
As agonizing as it is, you can already feel your skin working to mend itself. You can practically hear the flesh bonding back together. But the acid is dripping down you. It keeps moving steadily through your clothes and skin, your abilities on overdrive trying to repair the damage.
You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of being burned alive. Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder and you’re being lifted off your feet. Your skin scrapes against the rough material of someone’s blazer and it makes you grit your teeth and scream again.
“I know, hold on kid, it’ll be over in a minute.” Logan rushes you behind the stage, where there are no cameras to watch you heal. You don’t know how your father’s PR team is going to spin this. Everyone saw it, saw the way your flesh bubbled and boiled. There’s no hiding the fact that half your face should be melted off.
“Car,” you grunt out when he puts you on your feet again.
His hands are clamped firmly around your shoulders, inspecting you for any further damage. “What?”
“We gotta get to the car,” the words are a struggle to get out. Your lungs constrict painfully in your chest while you force the rest out. “Can’t let them see.”
He looks pissed off that that's what you're worried about and not the fact that you were just attacked. Finally, after a minute of just staring at you, he nods. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and runs with you back to the limo. He throws the door open, pushing you inside and sliding in beside you.
You take in a deep breath the second you’re no longer in view of the TV cameras. “Fuck,” you gasp out. Your dress is in tatters on your left side and you quickly cover your chest. You pray that you didn’t accidentally flash anything while you were still on stage. Your father would never forgive you for that.
It’s silent in the car for a moment. You feel something being draped over your shoulder and look over to see Logan passing you his jacket. When he catches your gaze he gently grabs your jaw and titls your face towards his.
His eyes rove over the left side of your face and he gives you a tight smile. “You’re fine, kid.”
You pull your chin out of his grip and pull his jacket closed around you. “See why my father wanted you around? How would he have ever explained his daughter surviving an acid attack?”
There’s something pinched in his gaze. A deep-seated irritation and something else you’re too tired to identify. He’s looking at you oddly and you wish he wouldn’t. You press your forehead to the cool glass of the window and slump against the car door.
You don’t know when you fall asleep but by the time you wake up, Logan’s already carrying you up to your room. He sees you shift awake and places you on your feet. You steady yourself against the stair banister and walk the rest of the way to your room, trying to shake off the pain of the day.
You look back just in time to see Logan at the front door. “Goodnight,” you call down to him. You know he can hear you, but he walks through the door without another word. You bite your lip, ignoring the sinking feeling of your gut.
You toss your destroyed dress to the floor and turn your TV on. You surf through the channels for a bit before finding a clip of today’s incident. “-apparently part of a protest for mutants against the government. I don’t know Bill, they seem to just be proving everybody’s point. They are unsafe.”
“I agree, my thoughts and prayers go out to…”
You roll your eyes as they say your name. They’re saying it wasn’t acid, instead it’s some sort of chemical compound that causes extreme pain. Even you don’t believe that bullshit. You have a feeling your father is going to be looking for a new PR team tomorrow.
Your attention is snagged by the replay of the accident. You don’t focus on the acid, you don’t want to. Instead, you see how quickly Logan rushed to your side. He seemed to be right there even as the acid was being thrown.
Your brows pinch together and you glance at the jacket beside you. He’d forgotten to take it back before he left. You pick it up, eyes skating over the fabric before you find what you’re looking for. There’s a large hole in the right sleeve, acid having burned through it.
You hadn’t even realized he was in pain. You know he can heal, but it doesn’t get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had someone look after you like that.
You grin to yourself, tucking the jacket in the back of your closet. You’re sure he wouldn’t want it back and you’re not planning on parting with it anytime soon.
You’re on house arrest for a week after the acid incident. Which includes no school. Your father has to play into the idea that you’re recovering from the trauma and healing. You don’t know how much longer he’s planning on keeping you locked up but you’re going stir crazy.
Not only do you not get to go to classes, but Logan isn’t around either. He doesn’t need to be, not when the only place you’re in is your room. He’s not a friend, he’s made that clear, but he’s something. And you are desperately craving that specific something.
“It was a sickening attack against my daughter that my wife and I are still trying to recover from.” You roll your eyes as you listen to your father spew his bullshit to the interviewer in the next room.
You’re not allowed to be out and about, of course. You can’t risk someone seeing you. But that doesn’t stop you from lurking.
“It was an incredibly traumatic experience for her, I’m sure.” You grin to yourself, picking at your nails. You like this one, whoever the reporter is interviewing him. She hasn’t let him catch a break. Especially not when he tries to capitalize on your trauma. Even though he hasn’t checked in once with you.
“Well,” he splutters for a moment. “Yes, of course,” he tries to sound humble but anyone can tell he’s just covering his ass. “And it just further proves what I’ve always said about mutants. They are animals, they’re not like us.”
You’d think at a certain point you’d go numb to it. You’ve been raised hearing this rhetoric from him all your life. But the sting never eases. That cloying ache in your chest never quite leaves you. Not when you know the only reason he publicly accepts you is for political gains. So everyone can see what a wonderful father he is and vote for him.
You feel sick to your stomach and you don’t think you can listen to much more of this. But right as you’re about to tap out a hand clamps down on your shoulder. You nearly scream but you catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave and your mouth snaps shut.
You leap out of your chair and whip around, a grin plastered on your face. “Logan, what are you doing here?” You can’t disguise the giddiness in your voice. He might constantly be reminding you that you hold nothing more than a professional relationship, but you don’t give a shit. He’s a constant in your life and that’s rare for you, so you’ll latch onto whatever comfort you can find.
His gaze briefly darts to the connecting wall to your father’s study and you flush. He’d probably heard all of that. You’ve never had someone see the side of your father that you do. There’s something shamefully embarrassing about it.
He looks back at you and gives you a sly smirk. “Wanna get out of here?” You’d have to be an idiot to say no.
“Uh,” you can hear the music from where you stand across the street. You shuffle uncertainly on your feet beside Logan, glancing up and down the sidewalk like your father’s going to pop out of an alleyway. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
Logan tugs his cigar out of his mouth. He’s leaned up against a lamppost and he’s watched you struggle for the past ten minutes. “Live a little kid, would ya?”
You look back at the dingy bar and grimace. “Okay, there’s a difference between living a little and having my face blasted on the news. How’s it going to look if I’m photographed at a bar while I’m meant to be healing?”
Logan points with his cigar to the entrance of the bar. “I can promise you, no one in there gives a fuck about who your daddy is.” Comforting, and a little humbling.
You take in a deep breath and Logan must sense the change in your demeanor. He flicks the cigar to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He holds his arm out, “Ready, kid?”
You nod, hurrying to his side and slipping under his grasp. He lets his arm hang heavily around your shoulder, hand squeezing your bicep gently to try and quell your nerves. You’d be swooning at the touch if you weren’t about to throw up from anxiety.
You used to have a life. Until your father had blown it up. You haven’t been around this many people in ages. Well, you haven’t been around people who are just having fun and not sucking up to every politician’s kid they meet.
The music gets louder as you step over through the threshold of the bar. The soles of your shoes stick to the floor. People laugh loudly all around you, some of them shouting up at TV screens for whatever sport is currently playing. You’re sure half of them don’t even normally watch the game. They just need an excuse to get their wives off their backs.
The thought brings a small smile to your lips. Logan glances down at you and frowns, “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”
You roll your eyes and move out from under his hold. “Yes, Logan. I’m going into a master’s program, my frontal lobe is fully formed.”
He huffs a little at the attitude, cheeks twitching with a suppressed smile. He nods towards the back of the bar, “Find a seat, I’ll get us drinks.” He walks towards the bar without another word and you resent him a little for it.
Without him beside you, it’s like everything comes crashing down all at once. The songs playing grate on your ears. Every laugh feels like they’re screaming in your face. You’ve never been more in tune with your sense of smell and you hate it.
Your hands tremble by your sides and you nearly miss the man in front of you spilling his beer down his shirt. It looks completely unnatural, the way it just flips out of his hand. And you know it’s your doing.
You shove through him and his friends, running to the back and sliding into the first booth you see. You dig your nails into your palms, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate down a bit.
Logan slides into the seat across from you, placing a beer in front of you. It’s barely touched the grimy wood of the table before you tip your head back and drain it. You’ve never been a particular fan of beer or any alcohol for that matter.
But right now you need a buzz before you accidentally level the whole bar. You slam the bottle back on the table, taking in a deep breath, and sitting back. Logan gives you a hard stare, glancing between you and the empty bottle.
He clicks his tongue and stands up, “I’ll go get another one.”
You bite your lip and give him a sheepish, “Thank you.”
It doesn’t take long for the buzz to settle in. There’s a slight tingling in your legs and the tips of your fingers. It almost feels like how you get when you’re starting to get aroused. But you don’t know if that’s from the alcohol or the way Logan looks in his slutty little t-shirt.
Definitely tipsy, you think to yourself, nudging your third beer to the side.
“Always been a lightweight?” He teases, watching you with amusement in his gaze while he works on what must be his fifth whiskey.
You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, I used to go out with my friends all the time.” You laugh a little at the memories and lean in a little closer like you’re sharing some horrible secret. Logan rolls his eyes but acquiesces, leaning in to listen to you speak. “We made up alter egos for our drunk selves. Wanna know mine?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at him with a stupid grin.
His brows pinch together and he frowns, “I don’t think so.”
You laugh and lean back in your seat. “You’re the worst!” He places his glass down on the table and fixes you with an odd look. You shift around uncomfortably, “What is it?”
“What happened to your friends? Why are you hanging out with me and not them?”
“Oh,” your gaze drops to the table and you suddenly find the stains on it very interesting. It’s practically abstract art. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat and shrug. “Um, just all the stuff with my dad happened, and,” you shrug, “I don’t know. My life kind of fell apart.”
You try and shake off the funk, bring back the happy-go-lucky feeling you were in only minutes ago. “I had to move out of the dorms and head back home. My friends stopped talking to me. My boyfriend dumped me. It all just kind of blew up.”
Logan frowns and you swear he seems angry on your behalf. It’s a nice feeling, having someone care enough to hold a grudge for you. “You ever tell him how it was all affecting you?”
You snort, “Of course I did. He was overjoyed. He never liked my friends, especially not my boyfriend, they encouraged me to be too independent. He thought I was losing the values he raised me with. He just never cared to learn that I never agreed with them in the first place.”
Logan doesn’t say anything for a while and you let your gaze drift to the karaoke stage. Two women are singing a bad redemption of Led Zeppelin and it makes you smile. You don’t see the way Logan’s eyes linger on the curve of your lips and then drop to your chest.
You never seem to notice how you make him squirm. There is something so interesting about you. Something so different from the families he worked with before. He doesn’t know if it's the whole mutant thing, if you two are somehow kindred spirits in that regard. He doubts it, he’s never really cared much about that.
But he knows that there is something magnetic about you. It draws him in and makes him hate his own rules. He promised not to get involved with another client. It always ends messy, most times bloody.
You turn back to him and smile. Your voice is a low purr as you ask, “You wanna get out of here?”
Of course, he’s never been one to follow the rules.
“I am so sorry about this. Really.”
Logan glares down at you while you straighten out his tie. You duck your head so you don’t have to meet his gaze and he lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“Forget it, kid.” He says it with a smirk but it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty.
This will be your first public appearance since the incident. It’s a gala, of course, because your father hates you. He’d demanded you find a date, someone to look pretty on your arm because he doesn’t want you talking while you’re there. You’re meant for pictures and nothing more.
Considering the fact that no one wants to talk to you on campus, the acid incident not helping at all, you had no luck finding a date. You’d had to beg on hands and knees for days to get Logan to agree.
You don’t know what it is that finally made him cave but you’re grateful for it. You think your father was expecting you to fail. To come crawling to him and be forced to go with who he wanted you to go with.
You were not going to spend the whole night listening to some political major try and explain your own father’s campaign to you. You’d rather swallow acid than go through that for another night. Your father, of course, doesn’t know that Logan is taking you.
You’re planning on ambushing him with it. He can’t do anything about it now. He wants you to have a date for some reason and there’s no way for him to find a backup now. You take a step back from him and turn to look in the mirror.
Side by side, you do make an incredibly attractive couple. He looks amazing in his suit, his muscles just slightly pushing against the fabric. And as much as he hates the tie and constricting material, he makes it work.
And you feel pretty for the first time in a long time. You actually got to do your own hair and makeup for once. You’re a lot less heavy-handed than the assistants your father hires. You feel comfortable in your own skin, finally, wearing the deep red dress your stepmother had gotten for you.
“We look good,” you muse.
Logan looks down at you and smiles slightly, “You do.”
You give him a confused grin, “I said we.”
He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I know what you said, sweetheart.” Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the proximity. Gooseflesh raises on your arms where he’s touching you and your knee buckles ever so slightly.
You can perfectly imagine his husky voice whispering something much, much dirtier to you. He pulls back with a slight chuckle and forcefully turns you around. “Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late.”
He nudges you towards your bedroom door and you nod your head mutely. He keeps doing that to you. These little things that could be so easily dismissed as you reading into his actions. But you know, deep down, you’re not reading into anything.
But you don’t know what to do with this information that he might possibly be into you. Or at the very least, attracted to you. He made it clear early on that he wants nothing but professionalism between the two of you, yet he continually breaks his own rule.
Your father and stepmother are waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you both. Your stepmother smiles when she sees you but your father’s face screws up in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The goddamn bodyguard?”
You shrug and slip past him, already walking to the front door. “A date’s a date.” You pause and grin over at him, “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a taunt, one you don’t give him a chance to respond to.
You’re already slipping outside and heading to the town car. Something about Logan being with you emboldens you to act in ways you never would. Even when he’s not there, when you’re just having family dinner and your father says something off-putting. You fight back, you don’t let him steamroll you and your opinions.
You feel better than you have in ages with Logan beside you. Still, the ride there is incredibly awkward.
The hotel is grand and luxurious. But they all are. You feel guilty complaining about your life when this is your weekend. What do you have to be upset about when you regularly stay in five-star motels and wear designer dresses without glancing at the price tag?
Sometimes you feel guilty around Logan. You wonder if he ever resents you for your privilege. You might be a mutant like him, sure, but you’ve never had to struggle to make ends meet. Or try and scrap together enough money to get your next meal. You’ve never had to worry about where you’re going to sleep next or if you’ll have a roof over your head.
Your struggles have been so different that you worry if something ever did happen between the two of you, you might not work together.
But those are spiraling thoughts for another time. Right now, you’re just trying to get through the front door without someone bombarding your father with questions on his stance about whatever.
When it’s clear that he’s going to be there for a while, he sends you and Logan off to the ballroom on your own. You feel bad for your stepmother, having to stay behind and pretend she’s interested as they bore her with stories that have no real meaning.
“Poor woman,” you mutter, watching her struggle to keep the smile on her face.
“You don’t call her mom,” Logan muses. You turn to look at him and he just shrugs. “Just a little weird.”
“Well, she’s not my mom.” His head tilts in confusion and you elaborate. “My bio mom left the second she figured out she gave birth to a mutant. We lie to the public, stepmom’s interfere with the perfect nuclear family ideal my dad’s pushing for.”
“If he cares so much about family then why don’t you have your dad’s last name?” A good question, one you had to field a lot when you first started school.
You give him a sly grin, “Took my mom's maiden name the second I was eighteen, just to piss him off.” There’s no true reason behind it other than being vindictive and petty. “He’s been trying to get me to change it for years but he can’t force me to. Besides, I like having my name separate from theirs. Lets me pretend I’m not a part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, we just never really had the chance to bond.”
Someone passes by you. A couple you know you’re supposed to recognize but you can’t place their names. The man calls out your name, coming toward you with his arms open wide. You can see Logan tense up slightly beside you, bodyguard instincts coming out for a moment.
You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping forward to hug the man. “So nice to see you, again.” You tell him. He grins and squeezes you a little closer to his chest than necessary.
Logan clears his throat, glaring at the man’s drifting hands. Before either of you can react, Logan is pulling you back, hand resting lightly over the small of your back. He holds his hand out, forcing the man to shake his hand and take his attention off of you.
You can’t hold back the smile on your lips when you see how much smaller the man is under Logan’s intense stare. You’ve gotten used to the men at these events treating you however they want. They don’t see you as a human, you are your father’s accessory and their toy. You envy Logan for how easily he can dismiss these men, take away their larger-than-life personalities, and reduce them to the sniveling rats they truly are.
He doesn’t even speak, simply tugs you towards the ballroom and away from the man’s wandering hands. You can’t help the stupid smile on your face while you look at him. He glances out the side of his eye and huffs, “What?” He snaps, tone impatient.
You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing, you’re just…” You trail off, unsure how to continue. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him how you really feel about him. How deeply you appreciate him, how horribly you desire him. You’re afraid it will all just blow up in your face. That you’ll have truly been reading into everything and gotten his intentions all wrong. After all, he’s made it abundantly clear that there’s meant to be nothing between the two of you except a paycheck.
You take in a deep breath, smile faltering, “Nothing.” You finally spit out, slipping out of his grasp and walking quicker towards the doors. His hand lingers on your back, fingers trailing slowly down your spine until you’re completely out of his reach.
The chatter inside gets louder the closer you get to the entrance. You listen to the indiscernible voices, the quartet playing in the corner, and the clink of metal on the glass as they all eat. You straighten out your shoulders and put on your best smile, mentally preparing yourself to keep it stiff on your cheeks for the rest of the night.
Logan catches up to you, the both of you stopping the second you see the inside of the ballroom.
People Against Mutants
Evolution or Monstrosities
Parents for the Removal of Mutant Children
Your eyes widen as you take in the banners and signs hanging off the walls. More and more uncreative rhetoric all for the annihilation of mutants. Of people like you and Logan. Your smile drops immediately and you know you should have expected something like this from your father. He’d been refusing to tell you what this gala was for, saying offhandly he was just raising some money.
You thought it was another charity. Not this. Not people, quite literally, calling for your head. For Logan’s head. You suck in a sharp breath and glance towards the silent man beside you. His jaw is clenched as he takes in all the finely dressed people around you. They’re all laughing and chatting like they’re not actively campaigning for the destruction of children.
“Bar?” You ask, already walking towards it.
“Sounds good to me.” His hand is on your back again and you’re grateful for it. The glower on his face, the attitude that screams I don’t belong here keeps people away from you. He shoulders through the men huddling around the bar, forcefully clearing space for the two of you.
And when they turn around, posturing like they’re going to say something, he only has to look at them for them to retreat with their tails tucked. It’s ridiculously attractive seeing someone command these men so easily.
“Whiskey,” Logan grumbles, he looks back at you and you slide beside him, leaning your elbows against the cool counter.
“Just champagne, please,” you tell the bartender. He nods, quickly making your drinks and handing them to you. You turn with the flute in your hand, surveying the room. It feels less like a gala and more like a production of false niceties that will never end and never be genuine.
“Don’t know how you deal with these fuckers all the time,” Logan mutters, glaring as a man slams into him and keeps walking without apologizing.
You let out a short huff of laughter, “Honestly,” he glances over at you and you shrug. “I’ve got no fucking clue either.” He scoffs and takes a swig from his glass. But you can’t take your eyes off of him. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, weighing you down until you feel like you have no choice but to spit them out.
“You,” his brows quirk up and he glances over at you. You take in a deep breath and start over, nerves making your palms sweaty around the glass. “You make it bearable.”
Logan’s face falls and he sucks in a deep breath. You see the expression on his face, you know what he’s going to tell you. And you hate how apologetic he looks. You especially despise the way he’s making you feel pitied. He’s never done that before and you don’t want him to start now.
“Don’t,” you tell him before he can say anything. You let out a self-deprecating laugh and place the champagne flute on the bar so you don’t have to look at him. “I know what you’re going to say, alright. So, just, don’t.”
Logan purses his lips and grabs your jaw. You try and jerk your face out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you, he forces you to look at him. He only lets go once you reluctantly make eye contact. You’re surprised by the look on his face. There’s no pity in his gaze like you’d expected.
This is something else, something darker and more twisted. You can’t put your finger on what exactly you’re seeing but you know it makes your heart race and your thighs clench. “Listen, sweetheart, I-”
“What the hell are you doing?” You jump away from him but Logan just clenches his eyes shut with a short huff of irritated breath. You clear your throat and turn to face your father. He’s glaring between you and Logan, but smiles warmly anytime someone looks your way. “I didn’t bring you here so my contributors could see what a fucking whore you are for the help.”
“Dad!” You exclaim, eyes widening in horror. But Logan doesn’t seem bothered by your father’s words. If anything it seems to incense him, his hand drifting from your jaw to drape itself over the nape of your neck. You try not to show just how much the possessive grip is affecting you but you know they can both tell.
Your father’s face pinches and he nearly stomps his foot as he looks between you and Logan. He looks like he wants to say something else but your stepmother, thankfully, calls his name. She waves him over towards her and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do.
He takes in short puffs of air, straightening out his suit jacket and glaring at you. “You’re not going to be a fucking wallflower all night, got it?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s stomping off. He calls out a warm greeting to someone across the room and you feel like you can finally breathe again.
You give Logan a tired smile and nod towards the rest of the party. “Time to mingle.”
He laughs, loudly, enough to make people’s heads turn. You can feel your skin heating up from embarrassment and flinch away from the sound. “Sorry, kid, mingling ain’t part of my contract.”
Your jaw drops as you glare at him. “Are you serious?”
He turns back to the bar, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Deadly,” he tells you firmly, barely looking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, glaring at his back the whole time you do so.
He thought coming to one of these things, being stuffed in a scratchy suit, would be his worst nightmare. He was proven wrong when he heard them talking to each other. Bitching about golf and their mistresses wanting more attention. Their kids nagging them and their wives being bitches.
All of it made him want to down a whole bottle of whiskey and then blow his brains out. His worst nightmare turned into ever having to hold a conversation with one of these pricks.
Then, he turns around, surveying the room for wherever you were lurking. He expects you to be by your father’s side or hiding somewhere in a corner. Instead, you’re standing close -extremely close - to some pretty boy.
His hand is on your waist and you’re laughing at whatever boring fucking story he’s telling you. Logan tries to pick up on your conversation but there are too many things happening at once already. His senses are on overdrive and he’s already struggling against a migraine.
He feels something brewing in his gut, something he’s been trying to just shove down for months. He doesn’t know what it is he hates about this picture but it makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something crack and looks down to find the glass of whiskey split on one side.
“Shit,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the bar behind him. He shakes his hand out and tries to unclench his fists but it’s hard. He couldn’t have possibly been standing here long enough for you to suddenly find the love of your life. Why the fuck are the two of you so close?
This was so unlike you. Rarely did you ever have something good to say about the men you would encounter at these things. He’d heard you bitch about it enough times. Something about this isn’t adding up and he doesn’t know if it’s his own jealousy or intuition.
Still, he finds himself pushing away from the bar and stalking towards you both. Closer, he can finally see what the problem is. Your hands are on the guy's chest but you aren’t leaning against him, you’re actively trying to push him away.
It makes Logan’s blood boil, jaw clenching as he tries to keep himself at bay. He didn’t want to cave some kid’s head in in the middle of the gala. But the closer he got the clearer he could hear your hissed warnings to take his hands off of you.
Logan finally reaches you and the look of sheer relief on your face makes him want to bring the claws out. He’d love to see that smug smirk ripped off his face, but he holds back. If only so he doesn’t traumatize you.
“Alright, bub, hands off,” he warns.
“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” He had to give it to the kid, he’s got balls. Rarely did anyone ever buck up to him like this. Normally, he might entertain him a bit, drag this on longer than necessary to get a kick out of it.
But he still hasn’t taken his hands off of you and Logan’s not interested in fucking around tonight. Without a word, he grabs the kid by the collar of his jacket and tosses him away from you.
He lands roughly on the floor with a loud gasp and people turn to look. Logan pays no mind to the onlookers. He places his hand on your back and leads you out of the ballroom, unwilling to have eyes on you for the rest of this conversation.
“Logan,” you start, tone nervous.
“Don’t,” he snaps. He regrets it immediately from the way you jump in surprise. He lets out a rough sigh, running his hand down his face, and walks through the first door he finds. “I’m sorry, kid, I just-”
“Logan,” you cut him off. The tone of your voice is enough to get him to finally look at you. Your arms are crossed and you’re glaring at him. “Why the fuck did you drag us into a closet?”
His brows furrow in confusion and he glances around, finally realizing what he walked into, “Fuck,” he hisses. He gropes blindly around the room for a light switch. There’s a small click and then an unflattering fluorescent light is shining down on you both. He’s managed to drag you both into a small, incredibly cramped, cleaning closet.
You’re grimacing as you push a few mops away from your head. You look over at him and something about the look on his face must be funny because you start to laugh. “What were you thinking?”
Your smile makes one curl up on his own lips. He can’t help it, something about you eases a bit of the tightness constantly lurking inside him. “Thought it was one of those stuffy conference rooms.”
You scoff and reach for the handle, “Just a stuffy closest, good going, Logan.” You roll your eyes and tug on the knob. Your brows furrow together as you jiggle the handle every which way, desperately pulling on it.
“Move over,” Logan mutters, nudging you to the side. He wraps his hand around the handle and yanks on it, expecting the door to swing open. When it doesn’t his face falls.
“Did you miraculously unlock it, genius?” You demand sarcastically. Logan feels his shoulders tense up, frustration levels steadily rising. He’s already got a shit temper, he doesn’t need you adding to this.
“No,” he snipes, “but I don’t see you coming up with any wonderful solutions.”
You throw your hands up in the air, wincing when your elbow collides with the shelving unit behind you. “I didn’t drag us into this mess! Why did you even come in here?” You demand and he can see how angry you are.
It shows in the way you tapped your heeled feet against the floor and glower at him like he’s the bane of your existence. He doesn’t know what happens, what comes over him, or why this is the moment he chooses to break his rule.
Your back slams into the shelves behind you and you gasp as he surges towards you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and before you get a chance to question him, his mouth is covering your own. Logan buries his hand in your hair, ruining the perfectly styled curls. You don’t seem to mind much if the way you arch into him is anything to go by.
His tongue runs across the seam of your lips, tasting the cherry-flavored gloss you’d applied earlier. He wants to devour you. Consume you body and soul, take everything you have to give, and then keep going. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s not sure he wants the first place you have sex to be in a janitor’s closet.
He pulls back, tugging you back when you try to chase his lips with your own. “Shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters. He’s struggling to hold back. And when you look up at him, lips swollen from his kiss, and you mutter why, how is he meant to resist?
He tugs you away from the shelves, pushing you against the door so he doesn’t have to see your face twist up in pain every time the corner digs into your lower back. Your hands drop down to his belt, lips desperately carving a path down his neck.
He’d laugh at your eagerness if he wasn’t just as desperate for you. He reaches for the hem of your dress but it’s one of those floor-length gowns with no slits. He struggled for a minute before getting too impatient and just muttering, “Fuck it.”
You gasp when you feel the metal of his claw against your leg, eyes dropping down to watch as he makes himself a slit. He slices the fabric along your thigh and then just rips it. “Logan,” you hiss as he hikes the silk over your hips.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You glare at him, eyes darting between him and his pants before you finally shake your head. He laughs slightly, hand drifting under your dress and reveling in the way you shiver under his touch. “Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s what I thought.”
His fingers move gently along your thighs, easing you into his touch. You let out breathy whimpers, tucking your face in his neck the closer he gets to your core. He lets his hand drift lower, searching out the band of your underwear.
He’s pleasantly surprised when he’s met with nothing but you dripping for him. “Shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?”
You freeze and keep your face stubbornly buried in his neck. Logan laughs slightly, tugging you back and forcing you to look up at him. You mumble something under your breath. It’s said so quickly he can barely understand you. “What was that?”
“Ugh, god, Logan.” You groan and let your eyes drop down to his shirt, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I was hoping this would happen.”
When he doesn’t say anything your face shifts, worry gnawing away at you. You glance up at him and are surprised by the intensity of his gaze. He’s staring down at you like he wants to eat you whole. His pupils have consumed all the color of his eyes, there’s nothing but want on his face.
“You wanna know why I agreed to come with you, kid?”
Your mind is completely dulled just by being this close to him. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying before you nod your head. “Why?”
The look on his face reminds you of a wolf guarding its territory. It’s predatorial, animalistic, it makes you want him even more. “I didn’t want any of these little boys getting a chance to have their hands on you.” His gaze drops down to your lips and he leans in until your breaths are mingling together.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He dips his head down and his kiss isn’t as intense as it was the first time. His lips move lazily over your own, tongue stroking against yours like he’s savoring the taste.
You can taste the whiskey he’d drank earlier, can still smell cigars on his breath. It should be revolting, you’ve never liked kissing smokers. But there is something so intoxicating about him. Everything he does is enchanting to you.
It’s a naive train of thought but you trust him wholly. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him willingly. His hands continue their exploration down your body and you can’t help but arch into his touch. His fingers stroke languidly over your center and you moan into his mouth.
Your lips part with little gasps and your head thunks loudly against the door. Neither of you notice or care, you’ve all but forgotten the gala outside. The government employees and rich socialites that you’re supposed to be entertaining.
And when he slips a finger inside you, you don’t care who hears you call out his name. The rough pad of his finger creates a feeling you’ve never been able to produce on your own. There’s something so exhilarating about this whole situation.
Stuck in this tiny closet, no air to breathe but each other’s. No room for anything other than your bodies pressed as closely together as possible. You're completely surrounded by him and you never want to leave.
“Logan,” you gasp out his name and shove at his shoulders. He momentarily stops his ministrations, giving you a worried look. “Please, I just want you.” You tug at his wrist, hissing when his fingers leave you with a lewd pop.
He looks hesitant, but you can see the way he’s straining against his boxers. You let your hand trail down his stomach, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips buck into your hands and he lets out the most attractive noise you’ve ever heard. You’ve always liked guys who aren’t afraid to be vocal.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers. He swats your hands to the sides, tugging his boxers down and squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up.”
You jump and he slings your legs around his waist, lining himself up with your entrance. He drags you slowly down his cock, resting your back against the door and giving a hesitant thrust inside you.
You can’t help the low groan that leaves your parted lips. It’s like you’re full of nothing but him. You’d been mentally prepared for the stretch he would present, but you probably should have given him more time to warn you up.
You don’t care though, this is all you’ve been craving for months. To feel nothing, taste nothing but him. You’ve been praying that he feels the same way you do, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he does.
He looks completely wrecked, head resting on your shoulder while you both take a breath. It’s overwhelming, this feeling of finally having what you’ve always wanted. Someone you can give yourself to completely and still feel safe with them.
You drag your hand up his back, burying it in his hair and reveling in how soft it is. You tug him back by the roots, tilting his neck until he’s forced to look at you. Your gaze drops to his reddened lips and you smile at the gloss you’ve smeared across his chin.
“Come on, Logan, don’t tell me you’re all talk.”
His eyes narrow but you can see the amusement swimming within them. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“Oh, yeah?” You goad, grinding your hips down against his and biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You’re trying not to make a noise, trying to make sure he doesn’t see just how much he’s affecting you. But you can already feel your orgasm forming, it’s a low tingle in the tips of your toes, a burning hot desire rushing through your thighs as you clench around him.
“Yeah,” he promises, thrusting sharply into you. This time the moan is forced out of you, your lips parting unbidden as you slump over him, burying your face in his neck. He doesn’t waste any time, using your hips as handles to pump you over his cock like you’re nothing more than a toy.
The door rattles behind you, each thrust of his hips makes it shake in its frame. His hands fist the back of your dress, grip so tight you think it might tear. You don’t care. He could rip it off of you and you’d walk outside naked right now.
You don’t care what happens, not when he’s beside you. There’s a feeling of security that comes from being around Logan and you can feel it in this moment. You trust him to take care of you in every way.
Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, you two haven’t known each other long. But there’s not much you’re worried about when he’s moving steadily inside you. You can taste the desperation you share for each other in each pump of his hips.
He whispers it into your ear while you claw at his back. The shelves around you shake and you worry you might bring them down if you can’t rope yourself in. But you can feel the wave building in the back of your throat, your vision blurring as you tighten your legs around his waist and begin to match his rhythm.
“There you go,” he mutters, pinning you to the door and keeping your hips still while he moves inside you. “Come on, I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart.” He manages to hold you up with one hand, the other diving between your legs to rub tight circles around your bundle of nerves.
It doesn’t take much longer for your muscles to seize up, back bowing as you clench desperately around him. “Oh, fuck, Logan,” you shout his name, and his hand quickly comes up to smother your cries. He squeezes your cheeks until your eyes snap open and he drags you down to meet his gaze.
“Don’t want to lose my job, need you to be quiet for me,” he grunts out, his tone breathy and strained. He loses his rhythm, movements speeding up erratically while he lets out low groans and whispers of your name. You almost cum again when he finally finishes inside you.
Your limbs are twitching in overstimulation by the time his hips still. You feel completely boneless, body slumped lazily in his arms. He wraps both arms around you, squeezing you a little before slowly lifting you off of him.
It’s a relief of pressure when he pulls out. His cum leaks out of you, dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the floor of the closest. Your face screws up at the feeling and you internally cringe. No condom was probably a stupid call.
But you don’t really want to think about the repercussions right now. Not when he’s stroking your hair and rubbing a soothing hand down your back, waiting until you can form a coherent sentence before he lets you go. “Alright?” He asks, voice bordering on something smug.
“Mhm,” you push away from him, legs shaky as you try and straighten out your dress. It’s a loss cause, trying to hide what happened in here at all. You’ve got a tear going up to your hip and you’re pretty sure there are holes in the back. Logan’s tie is gone and you don’t even remember taking that off. His shirt is completely wrinkled and your lip gloss has stained his face.
You’ve both got horrific sex hair and the room reeks of it. You don’t know how you're going to sneak out of here. You still try and relax your hair, patting down the flyaways while Logan retucks his shirt.
It’s silent between the two of you, heavy but not awkward. You don’t think either of you knows what to say now that you’ve physically acted on what you want. A sudden thought hits you, makes your heart clench painfully and your tongue ties up in your mouth.
He’d confirmed that he wanted your body. That he desired you sexually. But you don’t think he actually said anything about a real relationship. There would be problems, of course, your father for one would have a lot to say about it. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about any of the consequences, you just want to be with him.
You open your mouth to ask him what he wants when the door swings open. Both you and Logan whip towards it. But where you look like a deer caught in the headlights he looks like the epitome of male pride.
Especially when he realizes it's your father on the other side. “Dad-” You start, but you have no idea what you could even say. Your dress is in tatters and both you and Logan are still mussed up. There’s no hiding what happened here.
He doesn’t let you finish, holding up his hand. His voice is eerily calm as he says, “I thought I heard something banging around in here.”
“You did,” Logan scoffs, crossing his arms and glaring at your father. You feel your heart jump to your throat, staring over at him with a horrified look on your face. How could he think that was okay to say? It was so dismissive of what you believed had happened.
This was more than just a quickie in the dark to you. This meant something, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that it was the same for him as it was for you. And that just makes you feel like the stupid little girl everyone seems to believe you are.
Your father says your name but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “You’re feeling sick,” he tells you, no room for argument. “Your date had to take you home. It was just too much too soon after the incident at the rally.” When you don’t say anything he shouts out, “Understood?” That makes you jump.
“Yes,” you clear your throat and face him. “Yes, understood.”
Your father has made his stance on mutants clear. He hates them, despises them to their very being, and wishes he could kill every last one. And as much as you were raised with those ideas, they were never truly turned on you.
But he’s looking at you right now like he wishes you were never born. You feel like shit on his shoe. Something to be hidden away and buried. It makes your shoulders slump like a hundred pounds was just tossed onto your back.
You try to run past him but he jerks you back, fingers so tight around your bicep you feel the skin tear. You gasp in pain but don’t say anything, too afraid to argue. “Put his jacket on, I won’t have you looking like a whore.” He releases you with a rough shove and storms off.
You can feel something burning at the back of your eyes. A moment later Logan drops his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and running his hands over your arms. “Come on, kid,” he mutters. There’s something resigned in his voice that makes your heart drop, “Let’s get you home.”
The walk through the lobby feels like you’re walking through a dream. You’re not completely present for it, or the ride home. Your mind and your heart are warring and you feel like you’re going to be torn apart if you keep lingering on what just happened.
You just can’t understand how you could go from having everything you wanted to feeling like the scum of the earth in less than two minutes. Logan doesn’t speak as he drives you home. His knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel and you’re afraid to even try and start a conversation.
You don’t want to hear him tell you that he didn’t desire you past your body. You don’t want to discover that you’re just another notch on his belt. He seems to do this a lot, sleep with the girls he guards. The idea of just being another job, another fun night, makes you absolutely disgusted with yourself.
When he pulls into the driveway of your house you both just sit in the car. Neither of you knows what to say. And the air between you is so thick with tension you feel like you could choke on it. You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the ripped seams of your dress.
You pick at the threads and feel his stare on you. You can’t do this. You can’t deal with the possibility of rejection. Not after what happened between you and certainly not after what your father said.
You undo your seat belt and Logan watches as you go through the movements of getting up. His eyes never leave you and it’s like a physical caress, his stare. Normally it would make you warm inside, comforted by his presence. But right now all you can feel is the chill of where his cum has dried between your legs and the icy-hot stab of nausea in your gut.
You throw the door open and you’re nearly out when he calls out a quiet, “Goodnight.”
You don’t look at him, you can’t. You slam the door shut and walk silently to the front door of your house. You don’t look back, don’t respond, you just slip inside your house and finally let the weight of the night come crashing down on you.
You don’t cry until you hear him pull out of the driveway.
Your father and stepmother usually stay at the hotel the night of a gala. Most nights you come home and enjoy the house to yourself for once. Tonight, you’re woken up by the front door slamming so hard your walls shake.
You can faintly hear your stepmother’s voice trying to console your father. She’s muttering something to him you can’t make out. You shoot out of bed, running to pull some sweatpants on. After you’d cried yourself out you’d taken a shower.
You’ve scrubbed your skin raw but you swear you can still smell him on you. You rush to your bedroom door, turning the knob quietly and slowly peeking your head outside. Your father’s at the bottom of the stairs, the second he spots your open door he’s screaming your name.
Your stomach twists painfully and you can feel panic starting to overwhelm you. Your hands shake and your legs are stiff as you slowly step into the hallway. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t feel like this because your dad is going to yell at you.
But he’s been so good at forcing you to rely on him. At forcing you to bend and break to fit his beliefs and mold. You don’t know what to do if you’re not striving for his approval. And right now it’s very clear that he’s never been more disgusted by you.
If the look on his face isn’t enough to twist the knife deeper, his words are. “I have never,” he screams at you. You take a step back, keeping the stairs between you, refusing to meet him in the middle. “Been more embarrassed to call you my daughter. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you know how many people saw you being dragged outside like a fucking whore off the corner?”
You clench your eyes shut, turning your face away from him as the shame becomes a physical thing inside you. You can feel it making its way up your throat. Because he’s right. Tonight you were nothing more than a slut without any self-respect.
But you’re also pissed off. You’re fucking enraged at yourself for being so stupid as to ever believe Logan wanted you for anything more than your body. You're mad at Logan for knowing how you feel about him and taking advantage of it. And you’re so fucking tired of doing everything you can to make your father proud and it never being enough.
“Have you ever once asked me what I want?” You raise your voice, screaming down at him with a ferocity that surprises even you. His eyes widen, frame trembling with unreleased rage. You plow through, not stopping because you know if you do, you’ll never get this out. “No, you haven’t. Not once. Because you don’t fucking love me! And it has taken me years to accept that, to finally realize that you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”
You gasp, the noise wet and painful as something warm trickles down your cheek. You stare down at him with your eyes wide in realization. “It’s so clear to me now, I feel like an idiot for missing it for so long. You never loved me. You’re incapable of it!”
You’re embarrassed at the way your voice cracks. As much as you want to pretend you’re stronger than him, not afraid of him. There’s still a little girl inside you who wonders why Daddy doesn’t love you.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want, Dad. I don’t care what you want my life to look like or if I embarrassed you. I’m glad I did, glad someone finally saw a sliver of the truth you try so desperately to hide-”
“Enough!” He shouts and it startles you so bad that you jump back, your abilities reacting and a vase behind you flying off the shelf. You duck as glass shatters across the stairs and floor. You glance at the scene with shocked eyes, looking down at your father to see that he’s not even a little bit surprised.
Instead, he just looks so deeply disappointed that it makes you shrink into yourself. The anger within you is extinguished in a second. He rubs his face, shaking his head and turning his back on you. “Dad?” You call out, voice trembling.
“Go to your room,” he tells you quietly. “I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You hover by the top of the stairs for a moment, not quite believing him yet. And when he realizes you're still there, that you’re not taking him seriously, he finally looks at you again.
“I wish every goddamn day that those doctors had just put you down. I’d rather have a dead daughter than one like you.”
You stand there, stunned, even after the rest of the house has gone to bed. You clean up the pieces of glass while you try and swallow down your tears. Let the sharp edges dig into your skin and tear until you can feel any type of pain besides the one inside you.
A week of solitary confinement. You’re surprised that you haven’t just been kicked out of college. You’re sure that your father’s many donations to the university are the only thing stopping your professors from dropping you from the class.
You don’t care if they do or not, though. You never actually care about what you studied. You’d just always hoped that it would be a way for you to escape the tight grip around your neck your dad has on you.
You’ve figured out that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never escape him. He hates you and yet, he can’t let you go. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy wallowing in your depression.
Someone keeps leaving food by your door but you can’t find it in yourself to be hungry. You’ll nibble on something, but you feel like you’re going to throw up when you so much as breathe the wrong way.
You haven’t heard from Logan since that night. You knew your father would fire him the second he woke up. But you’d held out hope - foolishly - that he might still try and reach out to you. You have this childish image in your head of the prince coming to rescue the princess from the dragon.
But you’ve been naive your whole life, you don’t want to keep going down this road. You don’t want to keep expecting the best of people and live your life in perpetual disappointment.
You haven’t seen or spoken to your father since that night. Wordlessly, he’d banned you to your room. No one’s said it, but you know you’re not allowed to come out. You don’t know when he’s going to deem you useful again and drag you back out into the public eye.
Contrary to his belief, no one had seen you leave that night with Logan. You hadn’t been in any tabloids or shitty news articles. Besides emotional estrangement from your father and losing the only guy you’ve ever really liked, there were no consequences to your whorish behavior - as your father so lovingly puts it.
You roll over in your bed and picture yourself taking a shower. It feels like such a workout but you can’t stand lying in your sweat and tears for much longer. With a long drawn-out groan, you throw yourself out of bed and enter the bathroom connected to your room.
You know you’ll feel better afterward, but everything besides sleep sounds like too much work. Still, you force yourself inside and finally clean the grime of laying on your ass for a week off.
You walk naked through your room, making a beeline for your dresser. You feel a little better after washing yourself off and moisturizing. But not much. Physical health can only do so much for how you feel inside.
You hope this will blow over soon, you’re not sure how much longer you can take feeling so awful. You hate pitying yourself, and that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You huff irritatedly, digging around your drawers for your favorite shirt.
A hand clamps around your mouth, rough and big, yanking you back into a muscled chest and keeping you quiet. You still try and scream, hands clawing at the skin of their hand until you feel blood.
“Fuck, quit that, would ya?”
Your erratic movements slowly come to a halt. You still feel your heart pounding against your chest, adrenaline warming your blood and making you feel like you're on fire from the inside out. But, you recognize the voice, recognize there’s no danger to the situation.
That doesn’t make you any less pissed off. When Logan is sure you won’t keep attacking him, he lets you go slowly. You immediately whirl around on him, uncaring that you’re still naked. Energy moves quickly through you, becoming a physical thing under your skin.
He smiles at you and you push the energy out, throwing him across your room. He flies into your bookshelf, crashing to the ground with a loud slam. “What the fuck are you doing?” You scream at him.
There’s no one home right now, luckily, or else you both would be screwed. He shakes his head off, brushing pieces of wood out of his hair and slowly getting to his feet. “Well, I was coming to say hi-”
“You say hi by ambushing naked girls?” You interrupt, grabbing the clothes closest to you and pulling them on quickly.
Logan rolls his neck out and shrugs. “No, that was just a plus,” he gives you that insufferable smirk and you want to scream.
This is the first time you see him in a week since you had sex together and your father officially disowned you. And this is what he’s leading with? Seriously? “You’re a real fucking prince, Logan.” You shake your head with a scoff and glare at him.
He narrows his eyes, looking to be in disbelief at your attitude. “What happened?” You expect to hear irritation in his tone. Anger that you’re being such a bitch right now. Instead, he sounds concerned, like he can see right through you.
You hate that. You used to love having someone who could see past all the pretenses and walls, but it just hurts now. “Nothing,” you tell him, unable to hold eye contact any longer. “Look,” you take in a deep breath, and your brows furrow in confusion. “How the hell did you even get in here?”
Logan doesn’t look like he wants to drop the topic just yet but he relents. He nods towards your window and you fix him with an astonished look. “I climbed, I didn’t want your dad to risk seeing me on the security cameras out front.”
You feel suspicion brewing inside you, tone turning defensive. “Look, if you came here because you want to fuck again, I suggest you go find another girl. I’m not interested anymore.”
“Well,” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” How easily he just dismisses your words. Like they hold no real importance. It makes you want to scream. Instead, you just flick your wrist, throwing him into another wall. You don’t know how you’re going to explain these holes in the wall to your father but you don’t really care.
“Enough,” he snaps, brushing himself off and glaring at you. Your lips curl up in amusement, the first thing you’ve felt besides anger and depression for the last week. “Look, I was coming here to get you the hell out, kid. Clearly, I’m not wanted.”
He walks towards your window, intent on climbing back down the side of your house and leaving. You almost let him, if only to see him scurrying down the wall. Instead, you take a step forward and stop him with a small, “Get me out?”
He sighs, running an aggrieved hand over his face and propping the other on his hip. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you cooped up in here, isolated from the rest of the world. It’s not fair, I was gonna see if you…” He trails off and roughly swallows.
Your interest piques. Whatever is this hard for him to get out has to be interesting. “Logan,” you call his name softly. “See if I what?”
He huffs out a rough breath, turning around and staring you down. There’s something in his eyes, something reflected in yours. He’s looking at you the same way you always look at him. “You wanna come with me, kid?”
Well, you’d have to be an idiot to say no.
You don’t leave a note. You don’t give them any clues or hints as to where you might have gone. They can draw their own conclusions about what happened to you. They can tell the news whatever twisted lies they want.
You don’t care, that’s not your life anymore. Your life is packed away in a backpack in the back of Logan’s trailer. Your new life is in the passenger seat beside him. You’re equal parts terrified and excited to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of it.
a/n: can you tell I know fuck all about politics?
Also, smut, wow, this was hard and rough to write. I don’t know why it’s such a struggle. I just feel guilty writing such dirty words, it’s absolutely diabolical that I have no problem being crazy over a guy whose age gap with me is the same age as my parents, but I can’t write smut.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp♡
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine imagine#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman
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THE HAT RULE, t. owens
word count | 1.7k words
pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader
summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is.
warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended.
a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.
the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel.
tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.
that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.
“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.
“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare.
“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles.
“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.
“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.
“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.
“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:
“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.
by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.
“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”
“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”
“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks.
“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–” you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.
“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave.
you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties.
your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.
“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more.
you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.
“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.
“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head.
as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.
“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”
“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.”
#angelicsoka#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens smut#twisters#glen powell x reader#glen powell smut#imagine#glen powell imagine#tyler owens imagine
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Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail.
Word Count: 2.2k
TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos
A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D
“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?”
You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.”
“Please hold,” the operator says.
A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning.
“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle.
“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper.
“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.”
“What happened, Eds?”
“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.”
You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone.
“You’re sure? It’s enough?”
“Swear.”
“Okay, on my way.”
He apologizes again before the line clicks.
You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van.
Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby.
Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway.
“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown.
You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?”
He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”
“I am so tired,” you admit.
He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.”
An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside.
“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive.
You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?”
“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door.
You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood.
“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in.
You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him.
“Does it hurt?”
“Hmm?”
You point at your own cheek.
“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles.
“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?”
His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“
“You hit Shelly Watkins?”
“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!”
You shake your head, trying to recall.
“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.”
“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already.
“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’”
You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be.
“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache.
You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke.
“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot.
“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight.
He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green.
It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet.
Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you.
He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away.
“‘s cold.”
You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter.
“Sit,” you tell him.
He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky.
“Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously.
“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.”
The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loving the time and touch.
You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start.
“But?”
“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”
“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.”
Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?”
He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.”
“For what?”
He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.
“Sorry, you had to spend it.”
“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back.
“Still, sorry.”
He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud.
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist.
“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.”
He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you.
Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead.
“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare.
You hum.
“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.”
“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”
He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“
You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping.
“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.”
“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!”
You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!”
He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fic#joeseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things
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Hi, I have an idea that could be fun. What if Hopper had another daughter (18/19) from his first marriage, Sarah’s older sister. Eddie wants to date her but is scared of her dad. Maybe he takes trying to talk to her but Hopper gets in the way every time. Once dating maybe he has to come to pick her up and Hopper wants to ask some questions. Could add past in counters between the two. I’m thinking fluffy and funny.
Funny enough, I've been working on a Hopper Daughter x Eddie fic
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Scary sheriff
Eddie met Sherriff Hopper a few too many times and has been gifted with many speeding tickets. He was slightly afraid of him, Hopper was big and tall and he never seemed to show emotion. He was a big grump and everyone knew not to get on his bad side, but Eddie feared he'd always be on the bad side.
He has a daughter, later teens, and fucking beautiful. Eddie had been crushing on her since he accidentally ran into her at the police station. She was sweet and nice and seemed to be nothing like her father. Eddie knew she was a forbidden fruit that he'd never get his hands on, but that didn't stop him from thinking about her.
Apparently, the world wanted Eddie to be with her, or at least that's what he liked to believe, because she started showing up everywhere.
Eddie was filling his van with gas, whistling to himself when she pulled up next to him. He was quick to look in his window and fix his hair, he smoothed out his shirt and turned to look at her as she got out of the car. She didn't notice him at first, but then he spoke up.
"Hey, Y/N right?" Eddie asked he knew for a fact that was her name, he repeated it on his tongue for hours after he met her.
"Yes! Hi, Eddie. How are you?" She asked politely
"I'm go-" Eddie went to answer but he was cut off as someone else got out of the car. Eddie didn't even notice that Hopper was in the car, his attention so lost on her.
"I'll pump, will you go pay them?" Hopper asked, Y/N sighed and gave Eddie a small smile, but grabbed her dad's cash and walked into the small building.
"Good, son?" Hopper asked, a tiny smirk on his face as the young boy nodded fast and quickly finished pumping his gas. He was back in his van in a flash.
Hopper waved bye as he left the gas station at the correct speed for a change.
~~~
Eddie walked into the small restaurant with Dustin, both starving after a long campaign. They followed the worker and sat at a small table. Dustin dove straight into the menu but Eddie felt like someone's eyes were on him. Which wasn't new, he was used to it. But still, he slowly looked around until he met the guilty eyes. Instead of receiving a glare from someone in the town, he was met with a full teeth smile from Y/N. She waved and Eddie smiled.
"I'll be right back," Eddie said, not even looking at Dustin as he got up and began to walk over to her table. She was sitting alone and Eddie was more than happy to take the seat across from her.
"Late night bite?" She asked as he took a seat
"Yeah. The campaign got intense and we are starving. Are you here alone?" Eddie asked, praying she was so he could call Dustin over and they could all eat together.
"Dad's in the bathroom," Y/N smiled, "but maybe we can meet here one time?"
Eddie felt his stomach flutter, did she ask him out?
"Yeah, Eddie. We'd love to meet you here one time," Hopper said as he walked up behind Eddie. Eddie gulped as Hopper's large hand settled on his shoulder.
"Dad!" Y/N sighed
"I think Dustin is ready to order," Hopper said, a small glare sent to Eddie's way when he looked up. Eddie nodded and flew out of the seat, speed walking back to his original table.
~~~
Eddie lost count of how many times Hopper chased him off before he could ask Y/N out. Eddie swore Hopper had an alarm that rang in his head when he looked in Y/N's direction. Maybe it was because he didn't have a dad, but damn did she hang out with hers a lot.
Y/N knew her dad was good at being intimidating and at times she needed it. But not when he ruined her chance at a date with Eddie Munson. Sure, the talk of the town painted him in a pretty bad way. And the amount of tickets her dad had given him, but something about him drew her in. He was a bad boy but respectful. He reminded her of Billy Hargrove, with the long hair, cigarettes, and the bad boy persona. But unlike Billy, Eddie was more human and a lot less of an asshole. Y/N had a thing for Billy, as all the girls did. It ended up a mess and Hopper cursed himself for ever letting him near his daughter. She understood he was trying to do better with Eddie but she didn't need protection from Eddie. The only protection she needed was a condom.
Y/N decided to take the elephant out of the room and have Eddie all to herself. She begged her sister Eleven to occupy their dad while she went to find Eddie. Y/N never cared too much for Eleven's friends, except Max, but now she was grateful. Dustin knew where Eddie lived and was fast to hand the address over on a piece of paper.
~
Eddie was blasting his music when Wayne barged through his door. He didn't notice Wayne until he shut off the speaker. Eddie spun around with an annoyed look.
"I've been screaming for you for five minutes," Wayne groaned, "Anyways, you have a guest. Put on a shirt."
Eddie rolled his eyes but when Wayne moved, someone was standing behind him.
"Y/N!" Eddie gasped, he let out a nervous laugh and grabbed a shirt from his bed. Y/N let her eyes wander until the exposed skin was covered by material.
"I thought this might be the only place we wouldn't be interrupted," Y/N said, walking into his room.
Eddie's mouth felt dry as he cleaned off his bed for her to sit. She took the clean spot and patted the spot next to her. Eddie smiled and took the seat, he hoped she couldn't tell how nervous he was.
She loved how nervous he was. It made her feel confident that he was interested in her.
"So you weren't signaling to your dad to run me away?" Eddie laughed, she joined in and placed her hand on his knee. The laughter got stuck in Eddie's throat.
"No, I had to beg my little sister to keep him occupied while I snuck over here," Y/N said, laughing softly at the idea
"Yeah? Why did you want to sneak over here so bad?" Eddie asked, slowly feeling more comfortable. Slowly easing into flirting and charming her.
"So you could ask me out"
Eddie wiped his sweaty hands down his jeans, softly hitting her hand. He slowly slid his hand into hers.
"Will you g-"
"Oh my god," Y/N whispered
Eddie froze, scared to breathe, "What?"
"My dad is outside your window," Y/N whispered
Eddie gulped and stayed still
"Look!" She harshly whispered
"No," Eddie said
"Eddie look!"
"I'm not going to fucking look,"
"Just look!"
Eddie groaned as he slowly turned his head, his heart sped. He looked fully over his shoulder but saw no one in his window. He looked at it confused until he heard little laughs.
Eddie looked at her and she began to laugh harder
"You are a dick!" Eddie laughed, shoving her arm
"I had to. But this time, no interruptions," she smiled
"Will you go out on a date with me?"
"Yes,"
"Holy shit, I got the whole question out," Eddie laughed. "My band plays Friday at the hideout. Would you be interested in watching us play? I'll come to pick you up before the show then after we can grab a late-night bite to eat?" Eddie was nervous to ask her. He worried that she wouldn't be into his type of music or even worse, she thought he wasn't talented.
"I'd love to come see you play and the food sounds perfect," she smiled, moving her hands to softly touch his arm. Her fingers traced up his tattoos and back down, making Eddie shiver.
~~~
Eddie was shaking in fear when he pulled up to her house. He barely got out of his van when Hopper swung the front door open and began marching out.
Eddie took a deep breath and met him halfway in the yard.
"Evening, sir"
"It's sheriff to you, Munson"
Eddie nodded with a gulp. He wasn't sure what to say so he stayed silent, peaking over Hopper's shoulder.
"I hear you are in a band. Do you do drugs with this band?" Hopper asked, his arms crossed and his muscles bulged out.
"No, sheriff" It might be a lie but Eddie wasn't under oath and he wasn't going to mess up his one chance to prove himself.
"Because my little girl doesn't need to get into trouble with drugs and partying. You hear me?"
"Dad, will you please leave him alone," Y/N groaned, her frame was much smaller compared to Hopper's as she appeared from behind him.
Eddie focused his attention on her, and it was hard not to. She looked incredible. She wore dark jeans, a tank top with a jacket, and classic sneakers. She wasn't over the top or trying to dress fancy, but Eddie couldn't look away.
"Oh relax we are having a nice little chat, aren't we?" Hopper asked, uncrossing his arms to give Eddie a harsh pat on the shoulder.
"We're great," Eddie squeaked out in fear
"Home by midnight or you'll never see her again," Hopper warned then leaned close to Eddie's ear, "Whatever you are thinking or wanting to happen tonight, better not happen. Or I will kill you and make it look like an accident." He whispered
"Well have fun kids!" Hopper said, his voice much more joyful as he stood up straight. Y/N rolled her eyes and grabbed Eddie's hand. She waved goodbye to her dad as she walked over to the van.
"Didn't scare you off did he?" Y/N joked as she buckled herself
Eddie coughed and started the van, "He'd never be able to scare me away from you, gorgeous," the wink he sent made her face burn.
Hopper watched as they drove off, trying to ignore the alarms in his head.
"They are going to have sex"
Hopper turned around as the words left Eleven's innocent mouth.
"Where did you hear that?" Hopper demanded, his temper already rising
Eleven shrugged, "she said it over the phone. What's sex?"
Eleven didn't get her answer, Hopper was already running to his truck.
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#ashwhowrites#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson x hopper! reader
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Wild ride
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 5206
Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.
a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!
When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.
But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.
As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.
“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.
“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.
We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.
The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.
You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.
”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.
”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.
“What?” you clench your jaw.
“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.
”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.
”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.
”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.
”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.
”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.
“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.
Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.
There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.
You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.
“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.
”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.
As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.
“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.
“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.
“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.
Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.
A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”
In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.
There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.
“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”
You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.
“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.
It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.
It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.
As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.
”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.
”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.
“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.
“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.
Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.
“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.
“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.
“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.
“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”
“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.
“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.
“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.
“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”
“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”
Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.
Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”
“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.
Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.
He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.
A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.
Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.
You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.
“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.
“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.
“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.
“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.
“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.
Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.
A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.
“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.
“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.
Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.
A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.
Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.
“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.
Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.
“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.
“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.
Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.
“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.
“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.
Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.
“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”
He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.
“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.
Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.
“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.
“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.
Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.
“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.
You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.
Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.
“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.
“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.
Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.
“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.
Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.
Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.
Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.
“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.
Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.
“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.
Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.
“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.
He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.
His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.
He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.
He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.
“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.
He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.
“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.
Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."
A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.
"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.
Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.
"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."
Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."
With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.
Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.
"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.
Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.
"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."
Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.
Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."
Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.
Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏
#smut#tyler owens#twisters#twisters 2024#glenn powell#glen powell#Tyler owens reader#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x you#tyler owens x reader smut#tyler owens x you smut#twisters2024 glen powell
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[🍪] chocolate chip cookie, includes; a fic inspired by a song of your choice!
maybe frat!rafe or either dealer!rafe (👀) with friends by chase atlantic😁😁😁😁😁😁😁they’re at a party and all her friends are fucked up and yk HAKSJDKD
₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬
pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!reader
summary: ❝all of your friends have been here for too long, they must be waiting for you to move on. girl, i’m not with it, i’m way too far gone.❞ — after confessing his feelings for you, rafe gets nervous and leaves you the following morning. now you two are at a party, and he isn’t leaving without you.
warnings: friends w benefits au, mentions of drinking and dealing of drugs, arguing, suggestive ending
word count: 0.7k
a/n: wrote this with s2 rafe in mind..
you were the only sober one at this party. along with rafe, who never drank when he was dealing, and vowed to never get high on his own supply. you knew he’d be here— a party wasn’t a party if rafe wasn’t serving up people in the corner of the living room. you stared at him from a distance, his eyes occasionally finding yours when he looked up from the stacks of money on the table. you hated how good he looked tonight. skin flushed with a sheen of sweat from having so many people around him, his bangs hanging loosely in his face, with that blue jeans and white t-shirt combo that you loved so much.
you swallowed thickly, your trance being broken when one of your, very drunk, friends grabbed onto your arm for support. “stop looking at himmm!” she slurred, cackling when you rolled your eyes. “he just wants you for himself without any real commitment.” she nearly lost her footing, a yelp leaving her lips as you decided to guide her out of the kitchen. while your friend wasn’t all the way wrong, she didn’t know enough about you and rafe’s ‘situationship’ to form an opinion on it. your friends only knew what you told them, which meant they’ve only ever heard your annoyed rants.
“let’s get you over here..” you sat her down on the couch where the rest of your friends drunkenly talked amongst each other. rafe wasn’t far from where you sat, his laugh echoing in your ears as he started stuffing his black backpack full of cash. you could tell by the smile on his face that he had a good night for shop. sensing that you were looking at him, rafe felt the burn of your gaze as he got up, having no intention of leaving this party without you on his arm. you smelled his cologne before he approached you, the scent making your heart flutter in your chest.
“hey, can we talk?” rafe stopped in front of you, your friends turning around at the sound of his voice. you looked up at him, cursing under your breath at how handsome he was. “leave her alone, asshole!” rafe smiled at your friend, flipping her off before getting you up and taking you outside. “your friends are annoying as fuck.” he stopped by his truck, backing you up against the vehicle until his thigh sat comfortably between your legs. you knew what he was doing. “they’re drunk..” you glared at him, “what do you want?” rafe tilted his head at your words. “what do i want?” he repeated.
“you gonna act like you weren’t staring me down in there?” he laughed, cupping your chin. “you look pretty.” turning your head away from him, you shrugged him off as you arched a brow. “i was looking at you, and?” you ignored his little compliment. “..and you haven’t replied to any of my messages or called me back.. why?” you shook your head. “are you seriously asking me this? you tell me you have feelings for me while you’re inside of me, and then leave without a word in the morning? excuse me if i felt like you were toying with me or something.” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“i got nervous, alright! but i swear to you i meant every word. i would never mess with you like that..” he stepped closer. “i’ve been wanting this, us, for a long time, y/n. i’m not good at this stuff, but i want to try, i want to do it with you.” your gaze softened. “do you mean that?” your voice was small, a clear indication that you weren’t trying to argue with him anymore. “i fucking swear by it.” you watched as his jaw clenched. “i wont disappoint you, baby.” finally, for the first time in two weeks, he took you in his arms. you sighed, feeling a weight you didn’t know was there, lift off of your shoulders.
“is this a revenge dress?” you laughed when he pulled away, inspecting your outfit. “no, but it worked.” you teased. rafe leaned down and kissed you, in which you wasted no time in returning. “come on, let’s get out of here.. ‘before your friends threaten me.” you let him place you in the passenger seat, a squeal leaving your lips when he landed a harsh smack to your ass.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#𐙚⋆°. victoria’s 5k celebration#dealer!rafe#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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Tyler Owens x Reader (Oneshot)
Alright here ya go guys a Tyler Owens oneshot! WARNINGS: Attempted Assault and Major Fluff (Also Tyler Owens being the protective man we know he would be)
The Oklahoma skyline was beautiful as you got your van ready to go. You had gone storm chasing with your uncle when you were younger and he passed all of his stuff to you. When your parents had died you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but your uncle had swooped in and started teaching you about weather. He taught you everything you knew, but he had gotten to a point where he could no longer keep up. So here you were in your small travel van setting up your equipment.
The weather was predicted to produce some tornadoes today. Watching the radar you could see a very strong looking storm forming and from where you were you could tell this one was going to be a good one. You packed everything in the van quickly and headed towards the storm. Your job was to photograph the storms and sell your photos to news outlets and things of that nature as well as selling the photos that didn’t make the cut online for a little extra cash.
You had set up at a perfect spot and started taking pictures as the funnel started to come down. The pictures were soon to be ruined as you heard a familiar song blaring from a red truck. Tyler fucking Owens ruining another photo op for you. He pulled up beside you with the radio blaring. “Howdy (Y/N) fun day for storms!”, he yelled before speeding off. You didn’t want to edit your photos as you wanted them to be genuine.
You walk back to your van and sit watching as Tyler takes off towards the tornado as per usual. The rest of the day continued like this and by the time you pulled into the motel parking lot other storm chasers had taken it over. You got a room and pulled your ringing phone out of your pocket. “Hello?”, you answered. “Hi (Y/N) this is Pam with the publishing market we were wondering when the next set of photos would be coming in. The deadline is tonight and we haven’t received any photos”, she explains.
“I understand. I do have some photos that I can send over of the storms and the beginnings of the tornadoes”, you state. “Well we were hoping to have fully formed tornadoes for some magazine covers. A partially formed tornado or the beginning of the storm is not what we are looking for. Like I said, the deadline is tonight. If you can’t deliver the photos we are looking for we will have to find another photographer. I have to go. Goodbye”, Pam said as she hung up.
If looks could kill your phone would have combusted right there in your hand as you walked through the parking lot to your room. “Oh (Y/N). Pretty good tornadoes today”, Tyler called to you. “I wouldn’t know”, you huffed. “How could you not? There was one right after the other today”, Boone said. “Oh I don’t know I haven’t been able to photograph any without that eyesore of a truck getting into any of my shots”, you state angrily. “You know they have photoshop these days”, Tyler said.
“Except in order to get paid by the publishing market they have to be unaltered, but you YOUTUBERS wouldn’t know anything about that. Not that it matters because the deadline was tonight”, you seethed. Tyler’s team looked at each other at your outburst. You turned to leave as you could feel the angry tears forming and headed toward your room. The shower helped calm you down as you knew that the cash online wouldn’t be enough to keep funding your chasing.
You were going to have to call an end to your season before it truly started. Tyler and his crew didn’t mean any harm and you felt bad for taking your frustration out on his team. That night you scrounged some photos you had taken last year and sent them in hoping they would take them. Your phone rang and this time it was your uncle so you answered it. “Hey how’s my tornado photographer doing?”, he asked. “It’s going great. Lots of great storms today”, you said.
“So are you going back out tomorrow?”, he asked. “Yeah hoping to see some great tornadoes tomorrow”, you sigh. “You didn’t get any photos today that you needed for the publisher did you?”, he questioned. “No, the deadline was tonight. I sent in some photos I had taken last year so hopefully they will work, but I doubt it”, you reply. “Do you need any money? I can wire you some if you need it”, he told you.
“No I have enough and besides all I need to do is get some awesome shots and next thing you know they will be begging to use my photos”, you say. “Well if you need anything don’t hesitate to call”, he tells you. “I will. I’ll talk to you later. Night”, you say. He bids you goodnight and hangs up. You feel like you had failed your uncle since he couldn’t do the whole storm chasing anymore, but also because you knew that you only had enough money to make it to the end of the week.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night, but when your alarm went off the next morning you hit the road. Stopping at a gas station to grab some coffee to wake you up you spotted Tyler and his group coming in as well. You continued to watch the radar while sipping your coffee. Boone waved at you which you returned as he was sweet as could be. On the other hand when Tyler waved you just rolled your eyes and went back to watching the radar.
Your laptop alerted to an email and you knew exactly what it was, but pulled it into your lap and opened it. Sure enough an email from the publishers informing you that the deadline wasn’t met and that you were technically out of a job. You groaned in frustration as you were now very much screwed. Then as if your day couldn’t get worse you spotted your ex best friend with another storm chasing team. She was more about the glamor of storm chasing than the feel and beauty of storm chasing.
She started walking over to you and you put on a fake smile as she approached. “I can’t believe you’re here”, she says loudly. “Yepp here I am”, you respond. “I thought you would have run out of money already”, she laughs. “Well I’m a scrapper I’ll be here as long as the storms are”, you reply. “Well I got a call from the publishers and they decided to pick my pictures for their magazines”, she flaunted. She knew that it was your dream to become a world renowned storm photographer.
“That’s great”, you replied. “Oh my team is coming back I gotta go”, she announced. She went back to her group as you fought the anger that was brewing. You had been best friends for years, but when the Twisted Gang leader asked her to join them and be his girlfriend she left you in the dust. You had no idea that Tyler heard the whole conversation and that you had lost your job essentially. A storm was forming as you packed up the rest of your gear and headed out.
You had better luck today than before as this tornado you were able to get great shots of. The whole day was perfect as you snapped photo after photo of the tornadoes, but then by the late afternoon there was that eyesore of a truck in the way. The pictures you had would be great to get you off the ground with the publishers so you called it a day. You checked your bank account and decided to sleep in your van since you had a shower last night.
You emailed the publishers, but they replied that they had found another source. You were disappointed as you willed the tears away. You were just going to have to try harder tomorrow and get the perfect shots. You were setting up the small awning/tent your uncle had gifted you for your birthday up when Tyler and his crew pulled into the lot. You hadn’t eaten since that morning, but you had gone over numbers in your head and decided skipping meals today would extend the money a little bit.
You watched as Boone set up a small grill then Tyler took over the cooking for the group. You pulled out your sketchbook and started to sketch Tyler and the rest of his group. It had been a hobby of yours when you and your uncle had strom chases in the past. Tyler would glance at you every once in a while watching you work trying to figure out what you were working on. You had to admit that Tyler was handsome as much as he could be a pain.
You were almost finished when you saw Boone heading towards you. “Hey the group wanted to know if you wanted to join us for dinner”, he said. You were about to say no until you saw his puppy look and agreed to come over. “Well look who decided to join us”, Tyler joked. “I only came over because Boone is too convincing and there was free food”, you snarked. Tyler’s smile only widened as you pulled out your sketchbook again.
Tyler and Boone worked effortlessly to plate food and distribute it. You had just finished your sketch as Tyler walked over with a plate for you. “What ya workin’ on?”, he asks. “Oh just a sketch nothing more”, you reply as you take the plate and dig in. Tyler snatches the sketchbook as you try to protest when he lands on the page you were just working on. He admires the sketch, but he can’t help but notice how much detail you have put into him in this sketch. You had captured him perfectly in the moment as he looked at you.
“(Y/N) this is amazing”, he admires. “Thanks”, you whisper. Once you were done eating you thanked the Tornado Wrangler’s team and headed for your van. You pulled some covers out and put a chair up. The night was startinging to get cold as you wrapped your blanket around yourself. You weren’t asleep for long when the wind started to pick up and it started raining hard. You frantically start packing everything away into the van, but by the time you got everything in you were already soaked to the bone.
You climbed in and pulled the side door shut as the rain hit hard. The rain didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon so you decided to run for the small vending machines under the balcony of the second story motel. You had just got your soda and sat there for a minute as the air seemed to get colder. “Hi honey want to come in and get warm?”, a voice called out. The man standing in the doorway of his motel room was disheveled and greasy looking. “No thanks I’m good”, you responded. He walked out of his room and approached you as you tried to stay some distance away from him.
“Look I’m not interested”, you say loudly. It was late and no one was in the parking lot with this type of rain. “Look I think I could warm you up come on”, the guy said creepily. “I said I’m good”, you said even louder. He was getting too close as you told him to back off and when he grabbed you pushing you against the wall you screamed. “SHUT UP”, he bellowed. You didn’t as his other hand went to your chest. A blur to your left caught you off guard as a resounding thud filled your ears and the man that was holding you against the wall went flying.
When your brain caught up you realized the man had been punched, and when you look to your left Tyler stands there like a raging bull. His nostrils flare as the heat in his gaze tells you all you need to know that he is angry. He strides forward grabbing the man by the shoulder and pulling him up and pushing him against the wall. “How does it feel, jackass”, Tyler growled. You stood there as he held the man against the wall and punched him again.
“Tyler”, you whispered. He hit the man again before you found your voice again, “Tyler!”. He stopped and turned toward you to take you in making sure you weren’t hurt. “If you ever touch ‘er again I’ll kill ya’ understand”, Tyler drawled. He threw the man to the ground and made his way over to you. “Are you okay?”, he asked. You nodded as a shiver ran through your body. “I’ll walk you back to your room”, he says. “Oh I’m staying in my van”, you respond.
Tyler looks as if you slapped him with your confession. “No you’re not sleeping in that van. You can stay with me. You can take a shower and have the bed. I’ll take the floor”, he says. You don’t even get to protest as he starts walking you towards his room. Once in the room Tyler goes into the bathroom to start the shower as the realization hits you that that man could have done something horrible to you had it not been for Tyler.
You slid to the floor as the first choked sob hit you. Tyler must have heard it because he was kneeling in front of you cupping your face into his hands. “I got ya’ (Y/N). You’re alright sweetheart”, he soothed. “He could have…have..”, you hiccuped. “No sweetheart I’d never let that happen to ya’ just breathe for me”, he tried. He let you cry as he pulled you up and helped you into the bathroom to let you sit on the sink.
He waited until you had stopped crying as you became silent. “The shower is hot and here are a pair of sweats, t-shirt and hoodie if you want it”, he tells you. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need me sweetheart”, he tells you. You nod at him as he closes the door leaving you alone in the bathroom. You shed your wet clothes and climb into the hot shower as it chases some of the chill from you. After getting done you dry off and pull on all of the clothes he had left you pulling a hoodie that swallowed you and smelled like Tyler over your head.
You quickly style your hair and walk into the main room as Tyler was making a small cot on the floor. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. I don’t mind sharing the bed. I trust you”, you tell him. He seems to deliberate his options as you wait for him to decide. “After you then”, he says. You climb in as he waits for you to get settled then climbs into his side. “Thank you”, you say softly. “You’re welcome sweetheart”, he replied.
You were shivering within a few minutes and Tyler noticed. “Come ‘ere I’m not gonna’ let ya’ freeze tonight”, he says. He lays on his side and pulls you to his chest as you look up at him. “You know you’re nothing like what the other chasers say you are”, you say. “Well I appreciate it”, he chuckles. You take him in and realize even with how much you bickered with him or fought over his eyesore of a truck getting in your photos you had fallen for him.
Tyler furrows his brows as you bring your hand up and trace his lips with your fingers. His breath seems to catch as you take in his facial features before you come back to his eyes that you swear can see straight to your soul. Without hesitating you slowly lean up towards him to give him plenty of time to back out, but he stays pupils dilating slightly in the glow of the lamp on the table beside the bed.
You close your eyes as does he as your lips meet. Tyler lets you lead as you test the waters by nipping at his bottom lip. He smiles then and presses his lips a little harder against yours then full on kisses the breath out of you. When you both pull away you're both smiling and Tyler reaches up to place a strand of hair behind your ear. You both share some more kisses until Tyler cuts you off. “I’m a gentleman and I think that’s enough for tonight. Another thing you’re riding with us tomorrow and no protests. I’m going to help you get your job back”, he tells you.
You sleep like a rock that night in Tyler’s arms and the next morning he wakes you. The Tornado Wrangler team watches as you walk to your van dressed in Tyler’s clothes with little smiles of their own. When you come back with your camera Tyler lets the team know you would be joining them for the day. Tyler made sure to drive you right up and into some of the tornadoes giving you amazing shots that were guaranteed to get your job back. Tyler was smiling and happy as you rode shotgun as Boone would load the rockets in the back seat.
As the team took a break Tyler watched you from a distance playing with your camera. He had to admit he loved when you would call his truck an eyesore and go toe to toe with him. He wanted to hear your voice more often and see your smile. “I’m gonna’ aske ‘er to join the team”, Tyler tells Boone. “I like her already so you know I don’t have a problem”, Boone says. The other team members agree as Tyler announces it’s time to roll as another cell starts to look better by the minute.
By the end of the day you submit your photos and receive an immediate response. The job was yours again and you ran to tell Tyler. In your excitement you run and tackle him in a hug that ends with you both crashing to the ground. “I got my job back”, you exclaim. “That’s amazing I knew you could do it sweetheart”, he tells you. The other Wrangler team members turn away as if they found something better to do as Tyler pulled you down to kiss him. “Chase with us. With me?”, Tyler asked. You sat there stunned for a moment and then you nodded saying yes. Tyler was excited to bring you into the fold. “Even if you have to ride in my truck”, he jokes. “I’ll follow you and that eyesore anywhere”, you reply as you share a kiss there in the parking lot.
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P L U G T O J I !
✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: i just got the thinking about toji fucking you with a chain on and how drastically different he would be from plug!choso and well... she came out!
🏷 tags/warnings: smut. fem!reader, reader has vagina, black coded, big dick toji, pet names (ma, mamas, daddy) daddy is used as "hey zaddy" not in a ddlg kind of way, slight size kink bc toji is huge squirting, fingering, some degradation, toji being a meanie its why we love him. dom!toji, cervix touching, deepthroating, weed smoking, mentions of criminal activity, toji is as toxic ass mf, reader is a fly ass bitch, toji fucking you w the chain on cuz duhhhh! Also subject to be edited
✎₊˚ word count: 6.5k sorry i had a lot to say about plug!toji yall!
Plug!Toji who is drastically different than plug!choso from personalities and down to how you meet.
You were college girl and Plug!Toji is the king of the city you moved to. You two lived in separate worlds until you decided further education was not for you and dropped out. It wasn't the fact that you weren't making grades — you were on the dean's list the entire time you were there — but you suddenly felt bored. Destined for more, you submitted those drop out papers and felt instant relief knowing that was the right decision. Now that you had time to pursue something other than college, you started bouncing around jobs. Retail job here, customer service agent there, eventually you tried out being a bottle girl at a local luxurious nightclub after being referred through a friend of a friend. That decision led you to be tangled with the notorious Toji Fushiguro.
Plug!Toji flew back to the city on this particular day. He touched down and decided immediately he need to be fucked up with a pretty woman in his lap. He went to his penthouse condominium, ridding himself of his clothes to start a hot shower before he got ready to go to one of his favorite clubs.
The same one you happened to work at full time now
Plug!Toji waited for the shower to get hot when one of his trusted men, Gojo Satoru, sent him the details of the section booked, followed with a selfie of him and an unknown's stripper's ass, grinning really hard. Toji could only grunt out a small laugh, tossing his phone onto the counter and climbing into the shower.
Originally not scheduled, you picked up a shift that fateful night Plug!Toji arrived back in town. You wanted the extra cash — and needed to justify spending money on getting your hair done into a smooth silk press. Your hair was long and straight down your back, and you looked absolutely divine. You garnered more attention that night from both clients and coworkers. You only laugh off each compliment, saying thank you, before tossing the strands over your shoulder. You had time for nothing more. You were here to get your bag and go.
Absorbed in your bag chasing, you failed to notice Plug!Toji watching you from his section. Satoru had the section packed with a plethora of strippers and bottle girls but you were all he could find himself focused on. Strippers kept trying to get his attention but he shooed him away every time as he watched you bring a bottle to a table. He saw your gorgeous smile all the way from his section. He continued to watch you and he took a generous swig from the Hennessy bottle. He doesn't flinch as the dark brown liquid raced its way bitterly down his throat. He still didn't care. His only focus was on the pretty woman with the exuberant personality he saw from across the way. You.
"Wait, I think the Toji is staring at you." One of your coworkers peeped as you were walking to the bar to prepare another drop on a table. The other one looked over and saw the big brooding man staring shamelessly in your direction. She quickly looked back to the rest of you before joining in the confirmation.
"He's definitely looking this way, but could he really be staring at y/n?" The other asked, clearly not attempting to hide her jealousy and you laughed. You only shook your head, not even bothering to look at who they were talking about because again, you were here to get your bag and not fawn over men. Money was the only thing on your mind and these men had to prove they were worthy of your attention. The three of you approach the bar before you replied.
"Girl not you sounding like a damn hater," you checked her, "we'll revisit that comment later, but either way I have no idea who that man is." You continued as you watch the bartenders finish up the last touches on the bottles you were delivering. The girl only rolled her eyes.
"Even more reason why I hope he's not looking at you. You're too new around here and you getting all the high end clients-" You looked directly at your coworker.
"You worry about the wrong damn things. Focus on ya bag and maybe you won't be so hurt when someone new comes in and takes up your clients." You snapped, not bothered — or concerned — if customers heard. This coworker in particular had been testing you since you got here and were sick of the unwarranted attitude. The witnessing coworker whistled.
"Y/N got a point. Step ya pussy up and maybe you'll party with Fushiguro one day." She said, defending you and that was all you needed to hear. You heard her fix to say something else, but then your manager popped up next to you three. A big grin was on his face
"Ladies, Yuki is going to fill in for Y/N. Toji Fushiguro just bought Y/N for the rest of the night." You raised your eyebrow and turned to face your manager. You didn't even bother to sneak a glance at your hater coworker. You knew she was fuming but that wasn't your focus. You had a smile stretched across your lips.
"How much?"
"Shit, probably enough to pay off the remainder of your loans from school. I know I could go out and buy a car with the money he just offered off tip alone." He said honestly and that was all you needed.
Plug!Toji who watched your manager fill you in from a distance. He immediately got up from the section, not wanting to share you with anyone. He descended from the stairs with suave arrogance as if he owned the place. Shit, he pretty much did one way or another with the way he ran this city. Everyone ate out of his hand whether they knew it or not. He continued his descension and that's when you finally looked in his direction. You unknowingly clenched your fist when you settled on his face, the look of an adonis but eyes of something so evil and sinister. You felt the tides change in that moment and knew your world was about to shift tremendously.
Plug!Toji stalks up on you, towering over you and your manager. He offers his free hand that wasn't holding the Hennessy bottle. His hands are cold. . .
so why was your palm so hot when he held it?
"You're y/n?" you nodded, "you ever fucked with someone who could buy you fucking the world, pretty girl?" Toji asked, quickly inspecting your empty wrist and empty ring finger. Perfect. That meant it would easier for him to snatch you up if you didn't have anyone at home waiting for you.
"Nah, but I assume you're about to change that, Toji?" Your mouth moved before you could stop yourself. He could only smirk and he bit his lip as he looked at you up and down. Your manager sensed he was no longer needed and walked himself away as he felt the wad of cash in his pocket - courtesy of Toji bribing for your time.
"Had a feeling you had a mouth on you," he brought his lips close to your ear, "glad to know I was right." A shiver skated down your spine and you felt goosebumps prickle on your arms. You brought your face back to look at him, shooting him a mischievous grin and Toji felt something adjacent to love in that moment. A desire to have you to himself had grew even more. You leaned close to him and he brought his ear back down to you so you could speak clear into it.
"I'd love to know what else you suspect about me, Toji." You challenged, voice something sensual and thick with sultry honey. He traced a thumb over your knuckle and replied back.
"Careful with me, baby. I just might snatch you up and never bring you back." Toji warned. You probably should have took some time to think about what he was saying, but you felt high off this banter alone and wanted to do anything to keep it going. So, you licked your lips, stepped close to him and placed a testy hand on his stomach and spoke.
"What if I been waiting for you to come do that, Fushiguro?" You said. You removed your lips from his ear to capture the look in his eyes. Sensual darkness passed over and he grinned sinfully, that scar lifted at the corner of his mouth. You had only just fully realized how eerie he looked with it, but for some reason you wondered what it would be like if he let you licked it. . .
"Then," he broke your thoughts, "lets go ahead and get acquainted, baby. Whatcha say?" He questioned and you nodded. He smirked again and took a final swig of the Hennessy bottle. He looked to his left to see your coworker from earlier gawking at you two. He motioned her over, excitement came across her face as she thought she was joining in on you. However, Toji placed the empty bottle in her hand, patted her cheek, and shooed her away. He focused his attention back on you before witnessing the crestfallen look on her face. You couldn't even attempt to shoot her a fake sympathetic look because you started squealing.Toji literally snatches you up and takes you out of main room and to the lounge he faithfully rents out.
Plug!Toji who had you squeezing your legs tight as he carried you to keep your cunt from fluttering. The brute exhibit of his strength had you swoon as he balanced you with one arm. He took you to his favorite lounge where drinks and pre-rolled blunts were already waiting. He took a seat on the plush couch and you slid down next to him. He stared at you all over, not bothering to hide his wandering gaze. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke.
"You smoke?"
Plug!Toji who offers you a blunt - to which you gladly take. Smoking on the shift with this handsome man? That's a dream come true. You take a couple puffs, barely coughing and Toji is impressed as you passed it back. He takes a hit before passing it back to you.
"You be smoking, huh baby?" He asked you. You chuckled, nodding as you take another generous hit. This time you stifle a small cough and he laughed at you.
"Yeah. It's how I decompress." You admitted, coughing again and he chuckled at you once again. He rubbed your back jokingly to help you through your fit.
"Can't smoke my shit like its regular baby this shit pressure." He said, taking another hit to hold the blunt for you. You rolled your eyes, looking at him to see he scooted closer to you. You felt the heat from his body waft off his and onto yours, words dissolved from your brain as you looked at his appearance appropriately. His all black outfit with a black tee, jeans, and shoes - a simple yet sexy monochrome moment. A thick gold herringbone chain draped around his neck to provide a pop of color and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering how the weight would feel on your face while he fu-
"What you looking at, y/n?" Toji asked, smirking at you once again as he caught you staring at him in deep thought. You subconsciously licked your lips as while staring at his chain and he felt compelled to call you out on it. You snapped from your gaze, trance lifted and your eyes shifted back to his. You only smiled.
“Your chain, daddy.” You teased and he shifted at the pet name that rolled off your tongue. He didn't even try to hide his sleazy ass grin.
“What about my chain, ma?” He took a final hit of the blunt, ashed the rest in the tray. Leaning back into the couch, he stretched out his legs and patted a broad hand on his lap. You knew this signal, and usually you ignore it but with Toji? You obeyed and got up to slide into his lap. You placed an arm around his shoulders to steady yourself against his frame. His broad arms circled around you and caged you in possessively. You sunk into his hold and then you spoke.
“It's pretty.” You reached up and your fresh manicure set brushed against the herringbone. He swallowed when he felt your nails scratch against his neck and he only stared at your face in the lounge lighting. He’s allowed to see your pretty complexion in this space, gorgeous set of pump lips, and lashes extended for days. Your eyes looked from the chain to see him staring at you. You smiled and tossed your hair over your shoulder.
“Want one?” He asked you, eyes flickering to your naked neck and picturing how a matching one would look on you. He thought about adding a T charm to it so people know you were his. A smile on his face when he thought about it but it looked like he was mirroring yours because you had also smiled.
“Maybe. What I gotta do for one?” You teased and played a dangerous game consciously. You played dumb, but you knew the whispers about Toji Fushiguro. He was the top boss of the city and he did highly illegal things. Too many of the people he was affiliated with were fighting charges and RICOS. And you had sat in the most dangerous man in the city’s lap, and flirted with him as if it were nothing.
When you look back on your behavior that night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you always knew you were secretly made for this kind of life with Toji.
“Let me take you out of here and I’ll show you everything you can do for me, pretty girl.”
Plug!Toji didn't need to ask you twice. You immediately left without telling any of the girls and your manager. You texted your roommate you would be out late and shared your location with a trusted best friend and that was as much as you did.
Plug!Toji met you out front. He grabbed your hand and led you to a vehicle, opening the door for you to the backseat of a sleek, black suv. The leather interior had you wondering how much it cost as Toji slid in the backseat with you. The driver greeted Toji and he responded with grunted instructions to go home.
“Ayo you know the rules. Don’t look back here. And shit with this one,” Toji looked at you, licked his lips, and wondered how yours would taste, “if you even think about looking back here i’ll cut those eyes out.” You didn't have time to register how serious Toji’s threat sounded because he placed his rough lips against yours. You immediately shut your eyes, melting into his lips and you felt immediately brazen enough to grab onto his t-shirt to bring him closer. Toji could only smirk against your lips, seeing how you were bold and never terrified to be in close quarters with him regardless of his criminal status. He only wanted you more that night.
Plug!Toji who didn't give a fuck his driver was less than a foot away and he pulled down the raunchy work top you wore. You gasped when his calloused fingers pinched at your hardened nipple. The action earned a twitch between your thighs.
"I been wondering how pretty these tits were since i saw you and i'm not disappointed. They real aint they?" Toji said against your lips, he paused kissing you to cast a gaze down at your breast. He saw the perky bunch prickle with goosebumps as your nipples stood at the cold air and stimulation. You only moaned at his compliment before you snaked your hand that was on his shirt to the back of his head to bring him closer, aching to devour his taste of mint and hennessey again. You're stuck your tongue out lewdly as you drew him closer and he smirked sinisterly before you two kissed yet again. This time was sloppy and spit swapping with teeth bumping against one another as tongues traced one another. The taste of your strawberry gloss and tongue left Plug!Toji feeling greedy and he needed more.
Plug!Toji and you only managed to kiss on the car ride. When Toji was about to place you in his lap the driver alerted you two that you had arrived to his apartment. He grunted, pulling away from you to see your gloss smeared around your lips and pupils blown sexually. He took a thumb and rubbed the gloss off your chin as you tuck your breast back into your shirt. Toji reached into his pocket, took out a wad of wash, and threw it into the lap of the driver.
"Good job not looking. Y/N, baby come on."
Plug!Toji who wasted no time and fucked you crazy in his apartment that night. He brought you up to his apartment and was nice enough to let the door close before he had began tearing your clothes off. You can't recall who took off what, but what you do remember is the first thing he made you do was lay face down ass up on the edge of the bed. His hands caressed your ass as his tongue lapped up and down your cunt ravenously. Salvia and dripping cream dribbled down his chin and lips but he didn’t care. Your angelic wails melodic to him and each time you went an higher octave he felt his cock swell another inch.
“Sexy as fuck when you moan,” Toji complimented you, “pussy pretty and soaked too think you ready for this dick?” You were so delirious you agreed. Your cunt lusted for something inside it and you felt him tap on your ass. You got up from your position, turning around to face him as you sat on the edge. You looked up at him, his massive frame towered over you as he slowly undid his jeans, his shirt long gone but that damn gold chain still sitting grandly on his chest.
He settled onto the middle of his bed, free from his clothes and he gave you a look. You didn’t need to be told, and you crawled towards him, swift hands at the band of his boxers and you languidly pull down . . .
you gawked at his immense cock that flopped against his stomach, stiff and flushed at the tip. You attempted miserably to hide your overwhelmed countenance but Toji saw the way your eyes widened and snickered. You don't notice him laughing at you because you were still so mesmerized by how huge it was. The veins are engorged around his shaft and even though it’s so brawny and intimidating it’s so pretty.
"Never seen a dick this big before huh?" Toji teased you, a playful thumb coming to caress your cheek as you continued to stare at his cock. You shook your head, just astonished. His enticing mauve shaft with a pink tip had you licking your lips at his color. The tip bubbled with precum and you leaned forward and kitten licked his slit. Toji hissed, but then grumbled as you took his tip in your mouth. He moved his hand to your hair and held it back, his brawny fingers fisting it into a ponytail. His thighs jerked when you kept trying to take as much as him as you could. What you couldn’t take you caressed with two delicate hands.
"Y/N." Toji hissed your name again and gripped tightly onto your hair. You answered with obscene noises coming from your throat and mouth as you performed the best oral of your life. You were so determined as you were determined to claim him with your mouth. Toji noticed your stubborn nature and one of your hands snuck away to fondle at his balls. He cursed and bucked his hips up in your mouth.
His tip bullied its way down your throat and it caused you to gag, but you took it obediently. He carnally bucked his hips into your awaiting throat, more obscene noises tumbled before you pulled your mouth off of him to breathe. You gasped as spit and a little bit of precum slid lewdly down your chin from the excess on your lips. You only smiled, giggled, and then continued to massage his balls with your hands.
"Dick so fucking big, Ji." You said, fucked out just from sucking his cock and Toji could only smirk. He saw that look in your eye and could not believe you were drunk off sucking his cock alone. He almost replied but then you tucked him back into your mouth. Toji groaned as he watched you hungrily slide his dick past where you stopped last time, deep throating him.
"Fuck— mouth so fucking good let me fuck that throat again." Toji said desperately. You barely gave his thigh a gentle caress as a go before he bucked inside your mouth again. You released a sound that was a mix of a whine and a gag and Toji felt his dick jump in your mouth. He bit his lip, relishing in the feeling of your wet and hot mouth and pictured what your cunt felt like. He casted a gaze down at your legs to see you grinding your poor thighs together. He smirked.
"Rubbing your thighs while sucking my dick is crazy. Get cho ass up here and fucking ride it."
You pulled your mouth off his cock, lungs gasping for air as you let oxygen fill them once more. You got up to your knees, quickly placing a few fingers at your entrance to feel the slickness. You're beyond drenched and your glossy fingers were indisputable proof. Toji snatched your hand as you straddled his waist and stuck your fingers in his mouth. Your taste danced on his taste buds and he sighed with pleasure.
"How I taste, daddy?" You inquired, finding your voice now because when he ate you out earlier words were scarce.
"Fucking delicious now sit on this dick."
Plug!Toji had a feeling he was going to fall damn near in love with you the moment you deepthroat his cock, but the way you rode him with something serious he felt in heaven. His arms were crossed behind his head as he enjoyed the way you slapped your hips against his pelvis erotically. His groomed hairs sticky and soaked with your nectar. You huffed, tits bouncing as you ignored the burn that plagued your inner thighs.
"To-ji!" You moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock. You strived to ignore the fact that his girth was literally splitting you in half. You could feel him in the depths of your soul each time you managed to bottom him out completely. Your cunt quivered each time and you panted out pathetic gasps between moans. Toji only continued to smirk at you, drinking in and loving the way you moaned his name. Why was everything about you so perfect?
"You're so fucking sexy taking my cock like a pro, mama." Toji grinned and the scar at the corner of his mouth lifted. He decided he can't take not feeling you against his skin anymore and removed a hand from behind him, bringing it to your waist to steady your body. You mewled when he touched you, not realizing you missed his touch until he placed his hand on your hip. You take one of your hands that was at your breast and move it to hold onto Toji's hand.
"Cock so fucking big." You sighed as you continued to feel his tip deep in your cervix. His cock pulsed inside you this time, twitching when your tepid walls embraced him. Your cunt throbbed, hugging him tightly to beg for his seed. Toji groaned at the feeling, moving the hand from your hip to your ass. He caressed the fat before spanking it ruthlessly. You shout and threw your head back as the sting echoes throughout the surface.
"Biggest cock you ever fucking had, huh mama?" Toji asked of you. He witnessed your face contort in pleasure as you nodded shamelessly.
"MMmmm, yes Ji." You're drunk off the thickness, feeling your cunt tightening up and that thread deep in your belly become taut. You felt it coming and you were biting your lip to brace yourself for the messy spout about to erupt from between your legs.
"You a squirter, y/n?" Toji already had an inkling what was fixing to take place. You nodded, hurling your hips down faster as you felt it coming promptly. The feeling knocked into you when Toji's cruel thumb traced circles on your nub. You wailed, screeching as your cunt sprayed all over Toji, soaking his pelvis and hairs once more.
"Toji!" You panted while you rutted your hips greedily to let the last few spurts of squirt leave your cunt. He grunted and sat up before throwing you off of him and to the side on the bed. You weren't given a chance to register anything before his raven locks dove between your legs.
Plug!Toji has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as his tongue assaulted your folds the second time tonight. His tongue reveled in every last drop as it oozed out of you. Arousal coated his lips and he doesn't mind. He licked his lips before he suckikg at your trembling hole. You whimpered, wanting to run away because of how good his hot muscle felt against you. Toji only gripped your thighs roughly, surely to leave violet reminders that following morning.
"Fuck you think you doing running from me, y/n?" He swore, slapping your thigh and you whimpered.
"Sorry, Toji—" You attempted to apologize but he cut you off.
"Nah, don't "Toji" me now wheres all that daddy shit from earlier huh?" He taunted you, bringing a finger to your awaiting hole and you sighed at the intrusion. You completely forgot he asked you a question when he sunk a second finger inside. A loud squelch sounded out and your eyes rolled back and you moaned. He slapped at your thigh again.
"Fucking answer me, y/n."
"I'm sorry, daddy. Please—” You tried to speak but his fingers curling deep in that one spot left you winded..
"Please what, pretty girl?" He teased, fucking your hole with his fingers and he earned a nasty squelch. His tongue circled your clit and you cry out. Toji’s fat tongue was so mean and overpowering your poor little clit as he fucked it. He earned another gush to coat his fingers and on the sheets.
"Want that dick, daddy." You finished your thought finally. Your pussy finished its second round of squirting and Toji licked at your clit one last time. He traveled down and sucked the arousal from around your folds before he came back up to you. He grabbed onto your face and you opened your eyes, seeing him stare down at you with that precarious darkness in his eyes.
"Open, and I just might give it to you." He said and you obeyed without question. Mouth open, you stuck your tongue out as he gathered the spit and arousal left in his mouth. The liquid is on your tongue and before you can swallow it Toji's mouth chased after you. You moaned in the kiss as your tongues swirled together in a salacious dance. You were so distracted by the kiss you fail to notice he was prepping to slide in until he eased in you.
"Toji—fuck—feels ssssogood!" You slurred underneath the brute man as he fucked you into his mattress. You couldn't keep up, pathetic gasps and whimpers fell from your lips each time he pistoned into you. He only smirked, drunk off the sounds that left your lips. He knew you ain't ever had dick like this before.
"Could say the same about you baby," he looked down at you, his chain bumped into your nose but you don't care, you're in heaven at the feeling, "pussy so pretty, leaky, and creamy can't have no one else fucking my shit." He spoke about you filthily but you don't care — again. You only get enraptured off his words and nodded frantically.
"It's all yours, daddy," you're drunk off his cock as it continued to send you in a lustful spiral, "i promise." You approached your orgasm and threw your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Toji only grunted and continued to fuck deeper into you as you squeezed him tighter.
"All mine huh," you nodded as your eyebrows scrunched up, face contorting into a euphoric expression once more, "that's what i like to fucking hear." He fucked into you faster, his thumb coming to rub on your clit again and you cried. You threw your head back, screaming as you felt your body succumbing to the orgasm.
"To—ji!" You're choking, pussy tight and leaky on Toji's thick cock as you came. You creamed, sucking him in and gushing hard around him. Toji only kept fucking you through your orgasm, his cold chain continuing to dust lightly against your face. You became a whimpering mess underneath him, unable to comprehend anything as overstimulation took over.
"Fucking tight pussy tryna get me to cum in it the first night," Toji chuckles, "shit should I, baby?" You nod your head so fast you should have felt shame for it.
"Want it all, Ji." You tell him and Toji didn't need to be told twice.
You're cumming again when he finally spills himself inside. He grunted and groaned, the sounds melodic to your ears and your cunt twitched around him more. He felt it, continuing to milk his cock with your silky walls and coming down from his high. He looked down at you and saw the roots had turned curly and a light smirk came to his face. A moment passed when you opened your eyes and looked up at him.
You mewled, coming back to Earth and you studied the man who lingered above still. His chain is still swinging against your face but you don't flinch. Dark eyes peered down and you hold his stare for a moment. The scar caught your attention, and the fingers that were on his back found themselves sliding forward to trace along the abrasion.
Plug!Toji tried to ignore the electricity he felt when your manicured finger traced along his skin. The moment felt slightly tender as he held a gaze with you. Something short of vulnerability flashed briefly until he snapped out of it. He hooked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you up from laying on your back and into his lap.
Plug!Toji who sparked a blunt before speaking,
"Once you with me there's no backing out." A subtle warning that once you were tangled with him and his lifestyle that was it. There would be no take backs. You only held his stare and took the blunt from him. You spoke.
"Long as you don't play me for no goofy bitch we good." A subtle warning from your side and you took a hit from the blunt. Toji could only smile sinisterly at your attitude.
"Yes ma'am." He chuckled darkly, taking the blunt back from you before he thinks to himself.
yeah, she'll fit right in.
flash forward a few years later and your life has changed drastically.
You're no longer a bottle girl. Why would you need a job when you had Plug!Toji to take care of you and spoil you to death?
The same went with your apartment. Why did you need to continue to pay expensive ass rent with a mediocre roommate when you had Plug!Toji who was ready to move you into his two floor loft after that first night of fucking?
And last but not least? You're the queen of the city.
Just as violent as Plug!Toji, you always get your way and opposition was always dealt with quickly and efficiently. If one didn't like you, you just prayed for their sake you never met them. Probability very high that the day you two crossed paths would be their last.
Plug!Toji has you as his iced out baby girl who he spoils. He always gets you what you want whenever you ask and men who stared at you a second too long always got punched out by him. Everyone wanted to know who was this one that was always next to Fushiguro. They knew you were someone special to him because Toji never showed up with the same woman more than once, never had a protective hand on their backs at times...
but it was the gold herringbone chain with a "T" brandished clear as day that marked you. Everyone knew it Fushiguro's way of marking you as his.
And you can't help but relish in this new found life of yours. The luxury, opulence, comfort, and excitement it offered to you was unimaginable. Soon after that first night with Plug!Toji, he took care of you instantly. He settled your loans and paid your roommate off to let you break the lease to move into his apartment a month later.
"I need you close to me this shit dangerous. Here, buy you that Saint Laurent bag you been eyein' or somethin just stop that fuckin poutin'.'" Plug!Toji argued, tossing his credit card in your lap on the drive back to his apartment with all your essential stuff in the rear area.
And you did in fact stop pouting and purchased the Saint Laurent purse you had been fawning over. This wasn't the first time Toji asked you to do something and rewarded you when you gave in. As mentioned earlier, you quit your job a couple weeks after meeting him because one time he wanted to see you but you had a shift . . .
"Mane, fucking quit that place, y/n. I take care of you now." You could hear the annoyance in Plug!Toji’s voice as you spoke over the phone, but you were feeling reluctant to agree. Relying completely on him after what you had in your account was gone? You felt uneasy and Toji could sense it. You heard him shuffling on the other end.
"Y/N." He said your name that day and he sounded like he was in a building.
"Yeah, I don't know To-" You started to tell him your thoughts until you heard knocking at your door. You went to answer it, seeing on the other side is none other than Toji. You can't help but roll your eyes as you two hang up. You take in his sexy all black appearance with that signature thick gold herringbone.
Plug!Toji showed up with a present. You two went to your room, you huffed and puffed about how he was going to make you late for work but he ignored you. Toji occupied himself with the jiggle of your ass as you lightly stomped into your room. You had went to the side of the bed, placing the bag there before opening the gift. Toji stood behind you and watched you remove the tissue. You saw the black box, raising your eyebrow as you feel his mischievous hands on your waist and slowly slide up your body. He hands were at your neck when you finally began opening the box.
Plug!Toji sported that signature devilish smirk, moving your hair from your neck as you revealed the gift. You gasped so loud that day.
The gift: a thick gold herringbone necklace similar to Toji's, however yours brandished a "T" in the center. You gasped at how pretty it was but also the slight meaning behind it.
"Toji.." You were still in awe as he began kissing on your neck, moving his hands back down to your waist. He naughtily licks a stripe along your pulse, causing your knees to buckle. He held you up before bringing his lips to your ear.
"Quit that fucking place, y/n."
You didn't even hesitate and immediately agreed that you would.
And moments later, you were riding him with nothing on but that pretty gold herringbone chain.
bonus scene:
present time: you lay pretty in a bathtub, rose and cinnamon filling the air. The ambience relaxing and romantic with your plenty bubbles and aromatic candles lit. Your muscles were slowly releasing the tension from a long day of shopping. A way to decompress after a stressful week of being the fiancé of the notorious Plug!Toji.
Plug!Toji who finds you sitting beautiful. Your eyes are opening, sensing he arrived and your lips shift into a sensual smirk. All day you missed your man and seeing him waltz through the door all tall and delicious you were ready to pounce. Your eyes sank seductively and Toji watches that look pass over you. He sits on the side of the tub as you speak.
"I missed you today, daddy." You speak.
"Missed you too baby," his eyes look you over before speaking, "come out that tub we both know you aint tryna bathe right now." A cocky smirk on his lips and you can only chuckle. However, you get up, standing up from the water and letting the suds and bubbles run with the water down your enticing frame. Toji licks his lips, watching the bubbles fall from your tits, stomach, hips, and between your thighs. He watches intensely as you step out, water lands on the floor but the two of you didn't care as you stand before him. You grab the towel from the sink and hand it to Toji. He leans down and grabs your wet calf, bringing your foot onto his knee as he begins drying your leg off.
You look at his lap, seeing his dick laying against his leg through the tight slacks he was wearing. You bring your foot up, sliding it until your toes were pressing into the print.
"You hard already, Toji" You tease him, he only looks at you sinisterly, knowing he was about to have fun with you tonight.
"Don't play these games y/n you know I aint the mufucka for that." He warns.
"What games, daddy?" You press your toes harder and before you can register the mean look he gave you he swiftly pulls you into his lap. The towel is gone and you're squealing, giggling even because you know you're about to get put in your place.
"Oh we actin' brand new? That's cool." He strikes your ass, earning a lament of shock.
"Get your fucking ass on the bed so i can break this fucking pussy so you don't fucking forget shit again."
©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!
#ohhhhhh I THINK !! this is it#she’s subject to be edited but im ready to bring her to the WORLD#𝐑𝐈𝐕.𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#plug!toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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Wise x
ok hear me out-
yandere, smutty, sharing, reader degradation
Scenario 1:
You're a solo agent who has relied on Phatheon - relied on Wise - for years. Being in such crippling debt is not ideal, the only way you can really pay off anything is through the hollows. You're just lucky to have such a doting Proxy.
It's scary fighting all those monsters, but, with such a handy companion, you know you're safe. Even so, it can get very embarrassing.
"Didn't you wear that underwear yesterday?"
"You really don't leave much to the imagination, do ya, (Y/n)?"
"I'll jump first, just make sure to land on my face, 'kay?"
You can try and retaliate, but, if you don't show up wearing a skirt or change inside the hollow, then he's just going to sit there and not lead you. Complaining and pushing him does nothing, he may as well just be disconnected.
At least, if you're ever being chased on the 'safe' side by other gangs or some criminal or public secs, you can hide safely in his bedroom. In his bed. Him in you.
Well, you have to thank him for being so kind, don't you? It's only polite.
Don't even think about asking other Proxys for help, he'll easily overshadow them or spread misinformation. Honestly, no one wants to get on Phatheon's bad side anyway.
Whether it's him or his Bangboo, you can bet he's going to be one annoying, clingy pervert.
Scenario 2
You're part of the Cunning Hares. You join thinking you're going to help make some cash to survive on the streets, only for Nicole to throw you to Wise as "Interest on their outstanding payment with Phatheon."
Cue you sitting between his legs while he's at his computer, soft cock just warming up in your mouth. Docile you is too meek to do anything about it, especially when your wrists are cuffed to the legs or arms of his chair.
If you want to talk you have to get his attention somehow, don't remove your mouth unless he explicitly says you can. Otherwise, a good spanking is in order.
Nicole ain't gonna bust you out, either. She'll be telling you to up the performance in hopes of getting even more shaved off the bill.
If you're lucky (not), Wise will invite Billy in for some fun. "How about it, let her grind on your face while she sucks my cock?"
All the eager to comply, you're soon letting the robot explore you while you actively please your employer's proxy with your mouth. The three of you sure make a cute trio.
It's rare you go on hunts with them, though if you do, you're usually stuck on supply duty. Can't risk you unable to 'work', yanno? Leave the fighting to the professionals, and you can stick with what you're good at!
It also makes for some fun moments between you, Billy and the Bangboo.
You just exist to be bullied, it seems.
... ... ...
Wise will make sure you're completely dependent on him. If you need money, food, a roof over your head then you better believe it's him you go to. In a world with Hollows, gangs, corrupted law, it's not that hard to 'fake' an accident if you went elsewhere.
He's not worried about you running around and leaving the store, as long as you know you to come back when you've got it out of your system. He's not above punishment and chaining you up.
Don't believe his calm and collected responses, just pay attention to his eyes and you're bound to notice what kind of emotion he's emitting.
#yandere wise x reader#yandere zzz#yandere zzz x reader#zzz#zenless zone zero#zenless zone zero wise#zzz wise#wise zzz#x reader#zzz x reader#wise x reader#zenless zone zero x reader
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the mclaren boy mystery
l. norris / o. piastri
summary: in which your boyfriend is a formula one driver for team mclaren and when you finally decide it's time to start hinting to the world, the internet is confused on exactly which driver is your boyfriend. pairing: social media au || lando norris / oscar piastri x reader fc: jazmyn makenna
a/n: made this on a whim instead of studying for exams & doing hw. there will be more parts eventually... i hope you enjoy for the sake of my abandoned school work. (edit hours later) -> omfg i spent all day working on this (literally at the expense of my hw & studying lolol) & i was about to publish it when i went to my drafts & it was just GONE. i was about to be in tears. i tried everything & finally accepted the fact that it was going to be gone forever. BUT i just opened tumblr again & there she was!!!! so so happy. anyways hope you enjoy<33.
part two | part three
sweet relief series | valentine's day drabble
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liked by landonorris, and 22,019 others
yourusername fast cars n pretty girls 💌
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user1 i have no idea who these girls are but lando is in the likes......
⤷ user2 fr i'm so curious now
⤷ user3 landos girl of the week i suppose 🤣
⤷ user4 prob just ur typical rich girls who spend their weekends at races 🤷🏻♀️
yourbestfriend same time next week?
francisca.cgomes gorgeous girls
⤷ yourusername love u kiks
⤷ user5 guys..... i am thinking Thoughts...
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yourusername added to their story
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oscarpiastri Singapore, the new helmet and I are ready ✨
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mclaren ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
user1 LETS GOOOOO
user2 oscar piastri singapore gp winner has a nice ring to it
user3 sexy helmet for a sexy man
user4 SLAYYYYYY
yourusername love the new helmet osc liked by author
⤷ user5 now she's in oscars comments wtf
⤷ user6 and he liked 😯
⤷ user7 are f1 drivers not allowed to have friends or something
user8 absolutely loveee 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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yourusername we <3 singapore
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user1 guys this isn't funny anymore WHO IS SHE
⤷ user2 lando's gf
⤷ user3 SERIOUSLY?? HOW DO YOU KNOW
⤷ user2 calm 😭😭😭😭😭😭 i was joking i have no clue but honestly wouldn't doubt it
⤷ user4 would yall call me insane if i said i think she's oscars gf
⤷ user5 yes
⤷user6 hmm im listening
user7 oscar in the likes... after she was in his comments...
user8 full main post of lando AND oscar ffs no shame
⤷ user9 maybe they're friends like wtf is the big deal????
⤷ user10 obvs clout chasing
⤷ user11 literally how 😐
⤷ user12 misogyny thats how 👎🏻
⤷ user13 cmon not even close, no one in the f1 community had any clue who this girl was and one day she starts posting about f1 immediately people start talking about her thinking she's dating lando and then next post she's posting him and oscar like clearly trying to get people to keep talking about her. she more than likely isn't with either of them and is she just cashing in her 15 seconds of fame or trying to live out her wag dream
⤷ user14 not the essay in the instagram comment section bffr
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yourusername added to their story
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landonorris added to their story
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part two
part three
reply or send me a message to be added to the taglist 🤍
#lando norris#formula 1#lando norris x reader#formula one#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris smau#f1 2024#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#f1rodrigo
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⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe
“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “
i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.
he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.
there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’
topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.
“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”
topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”
“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.
“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.
his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”
“yeah?” rafe checks.
“yeah. you should go talk to her,”
rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”
“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.
“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.
rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”
you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”
you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”
“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”
“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.
“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”
“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”
“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.
“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”
“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.
it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.
your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”
“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”
you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.
he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.
#౨ৎ isa writes#౨ৎ sunny!reader#obx#outer banks#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you
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Goo Kim x Reader: Cycling through the love languages
G/N. Self-indulgent af. Goo has a realisation about you.
Goo knows for a fact you like him.
Who wouldn't? Who doesn't?
Maybe Gun and Charles Choi actually, and he knows he pisses Kouji and Crystal off something bad. The majority of the crews too. And that sour faced woman from the cafe this morning. There was also the guy who yelled obscenities and flipped him off for driving erratically.
Ah whatever. He casts aside his growing list of enemies with a wave of the wrist and an adjustment of his glasses.
Point is, you like him. You. The only one that matters.
Why you can't admit it to yourself or to him, he can't understand.
...Nevermind the fact that it's only recently that he has admitted to himself that he likes you. After one too many knowing looks from Kouji, and then another too many drinks the other night when Gun remained stone faced and Crystal couldn't stop rolling her eyes as Goo started gushing. Tongue loosening and desires spoken and spilling over into reality.
The realisation wasn't so much a shock to the system, as a comforting hug. Like yes, finally.
His weird little daydreams, his growing apathy towards fighting and work, or really anything that excludes you. The way you said you liked his suit the other month and he walked with a spring in his step all morning and afternoon and evening and night, and has worn that suit damn nearly every day since.
It all makes sense.
So yes. Fine. He likes you. A lot.
Sometimes the thought of seeing you makes him feel giddy with excitement. Other times the thought of replacing his first love, good old dependable cash, with you makes him feel sick and he breaks out into a cold sweat.
Here’s the thing though: Goo likes calculated risk. He likes the thrill of the chase.
He-
Likes-
You.
And if you want him to be the one that chases and pursues you then ok. He will. Challenge accepted.
.
.
Let's do this the easy way. Flirting.
It might have been more successful if he wasn't so flirty and playful anyway. Curse him and his charismatic ways.
(Or so he tells himself.)
You don't find him too different from usual, all things considered. Maybe more of a nuisance, buzzing around you like an errant fly. His smile is greasier, words honey sweet. He leers at you. Waggles his eyebrows like you're in on a joke together.
Dear heavens, you think he also winks at you too. When you frown at that, he just clicks his tongue in annoyance and says there's something in his eye.
You think that's a lie. In fact, you know it is. His eye is completely fine but he is moody and pouty for hours after.
.
.
No, the wink didn't work. The flirting can't really be counted as a success. Nevertheless, his flirting doesn't stop at syrupy words, Goo is touchier too.
He's a touchy person by nature, especially in the right situation and with the right person. Whatever is needed to twist a situation to his advantage. A chin rested on your shoulder, casual arm thrown around your waist. A playful shove, footsie under the table that is more rough and malicious, aiming to hurt, than cute and teasing.
But he's close, closer than ever. Banter muttered into your ear, breath prickling your skin.
Every moment is just a new opportunity to touch you. Your hand, your shoulder, hip, lower back.
You never minded before, you gotten used to his touches surprisingly quickly except now-
The caresses and contact poorly hide a yearning. There's a different intent. It's purposeful and calculated. This doesn't escape your notice.
Goo also doesn't miss the heat that rises to your cheeks. The pretty pink flush when he pulls you near. The hitch of your breath.
Ah. There it is.
Success at last.
.
.
Sadly for him, success doesn't last long. You get used to his wily ways quick enough, you always do.
And it doesn't have the profound effect on you that Goo initially anticipated. He thought that might lead to a confession of sorts from yourself, and even you both skipping into the sunset together.
Neither happens. You stay as cutely tight lipped as ever.
Well if he can't worm his way into your heart with his A game and progress whatever this is you both have going on-
(Which is frankly a little insulting to think about. Goo would like you to know that some people have taken one look, one!, at his hot self and thrown themselves to his feet.)
-Then he can just buy your love.
In Goo's world, in this world, there is nothing that money can't solve. Luckily, Goo has lots of it.
He starts small.
Your reaction when he gave you a bouquet of flowers was rather sweet. He takes note of the way your face softens, how your eyes crinkle when you smile, the shape of your lips as you’re surprised with his gesture.
If Goo was the sappy sort, he would say that it felt like his heart skipped a beat.
Turns out that he is the sappy sort, and he talked Crystal's ear off about it until she kicked him out of her office and slammed the door in his face.
Next, the jewellery you seemed taken aback by. A few pieces you looked at in distaste despite the size of the gemstones, had the audacity to say they're garish and inconvenient.
“It’s too much,” you tell him. “Take them back. Return them. Please.”
You left all but one: a simple ring with a plain design.
The affront that Goo felt only lasted for a night at your rejection, dissipating the moment he saw the ring on your finger the next day, shining brightly in the sun. Enough to rival the smile that crept over his face.
.
.
Turns out that the car dealership was a step too far though, a step too ill thought out. The gifts gradually got bigger and grander until one weekend afternoon, you were looking around at brand new vehicles with Goo.
"This is by appointment only," he doesn't hesitate to brag. "It's exclusive. They managed to fit me 'cos I'm kinda a big deal."
You hum in response, your usual go to reply when Goo is feeling particularly full of himself and you’re half listening.
"What do you think of this one, sweetheart?" he asks, steering you towards the most expensive vehicle in the showroom, with more horsepower or torque or whatever it is enthusiasts talk about.
A sleek and shiny sports car that you know for a fact costs more than you will ever make in a year. All chrome and aerodynamic lines, that screams I have money and the biggest dick around here (or tiniest, depending on who you ask and whether you think they're trying to overcompensate).
You take one look at Goo, eyes dropping to his crotch and feel your body flushing. You quickly try to shake those obscene thoughts from your head.
"Um," you clear your throat, which has mysteriously dried up at the last second, "It's nice I guess? Bit much though." You poke your head through the window, admiring the top of the range features and the smell of fresh leather. Goo is nothing if not in your face, and this car certainly fits his vibe.
"Nothing is too much for you!" his voice floats over your shoulder, and you whip your head to stare at him.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"What do you mean?"
"It's on me, cupcake! For you." He throws his arm around your shoulder, a touch of sincerity under his usual viper grin.
Huh. Not only is this excessive-
"My apartment doesn't have any parking," You state, and Goo starts calculating if he likes you enough to buy you a new apartment also and unfortunately the drop in his bank balance still doesn't outweigh his feelings for you. Whether you will accept is the question but he can work on that.
All thoughts are derailed though with your next words-
"I can't drive. I don't have my licence. And the thought of navigating Seoul traffic," you grimace at the idea, "Nightmare. Not for me. No thanks."
Oh. For fuck's sake. There goes the idea to buy your love with gifts. Most people would say thank you with a smile and go to at least sell the car but of course you would rebuff him. He’s been letting you take advantage of his bank balance, his hard earned money, and of course you’re too good to him to do that.
‘So this entire day was a complete waste of time,’ Goo thinks sourly hours later, meandering the streets side by side with you, spending the rest of your afternoon together. Until-
"Oh my god I love these!" You exclaim, taking a bite out of the hotteok. Fresh off the grill from the street vendor, paid for by your companion. Out of everything he has given, or tried to give you - you're the happiest with the cheap street food. "You're the best!" you tell him between mouthfuls.
Goo doesn't stop his chest from puffing out at that comment. Those words elevating today from being deemed a waste to... fun.
And actually, a little sweet.
.
.
If he can't win you over completely with gifts, then he will show you how irreplaceable he is.
Over the next week, Goo is at your beck and call. His clinginess taken to whole new levels. He's at your home more often than not, by your side almost every moment of the day.
"Don't you have work?" You ask when he's glued to your side one morning.
"You're more important, sweetheart," he says, words off the cuff and surface level.
It's only hours later, when he has reluctantly peeled himself away to finish a task with Gun, he realises that it's not entirely inaccurate.
Free time is spent driving you from A-to-B. Heavens forbid you are forced to use public transport (Goo shudders at this thought) and since you hate Seoul traffic, he might as well keep you company.
He's on his most gentlemanly best behaviour.
Holding doors open, draping his jacket over you if so much as a gentle breeze is around. Hand-made meals, lunches and extravagant dinners. Even chores.
"Do you live here now?" You ask, padding out to your kitchen. Half asleep, hair in disarray to Goo humming and washing your dishes.
He smiles, sly and snake-like, "Are you asking?"
With a yawn, you burst his bubble, "Nope."
Goddamnit. Not even trying to be the best househusband seems to be working. What will it take for you to confess that you like him? He's getting sick of this song and dance.
He scrubs with a huff at a particular stubborn stain on a pan. Stupid pan and stupid chores and stupid househusbandry.
Ugh. What pisses him off most of all is: he thinks he can get used to this.
Being around you all the time, taking care of you. Not even you in your ratty old sleepwear, with threadbare knees and oversized t-shirt dims how he feels about you.
.
.
Goo isn't an idiot, despite what Gun might say.
He possesses frightening intelligence even if sometimes his common sense is nowhere to be seen.
You like him, he knows this. He likes you, he also knows this.
Then why on earth can't he bring himself to tell you? Is it that expressing it is a vulnerability he's not used to having on display? That despite everything, speaking it into existence means that he's offering you himself and there is always a chance of rejection?
If Goo was more mentally balanced and less self absorbed, maybe he would dwell on these doubts and feelings. Be introspective for the first time ever.
He is not.
Instead he feels overwhelming indignation that it has come to this, that nothing has had the desired effect, and most importantly it's all your fault.
He puts all his energy into storming his way over to your home, wanting everything and everyone around him to be also darkened by his mood. Makes sure his displeasure is felt through the way he stomps, how he slams his car door, how he blasts through traffic lights. Buzzing himself into your apartment building with vehemence, pounding on your front door until he hears your exasperation from somewhere inside.
"Hold on Goo! What the hell!"
The door is yanked open. For a brief moment Goo sees your annoyed expression, before he too is yanked inside.
"What is your problem?" Each word is punctuated with a jab in his chest.
Goo refrains from devolving into a tantrum. Realises that he already seems unhinged enough and doesn't want this conversation to get any worse.
Taking a deep breath, he grabs hold of that jabby finger (noting with amusement that other people's fingers he has broken for much less), adorned with a familiar ring, pulls your hand into his and strokes over your knuckles once, twice, three times.
He is absolutely not buying time. But really, why has it come to this: sincerity and honesty. How unseemly. This is so not him that even the idea of it sends shivers down his spine.
Whatever. With one last breath he forces out any trepidation and regains his usual composure. The one that is all confidence and captivating and can talk circles around anyone anyday.
"Y/N,” he purrs, "I like you and you like me."
You open your mouth to say something but he presses on. "It's obvious. I'm not stupid.” Goo points to his glasses, “I have eyes. I can see how you are around me, cupcake. And it's painfully obvious that I like you too." He allows himself an irritable sigh at this.
"Honestly I'm the one that gets courted. I'm a catch. People chase after me," he mutters to himself. "And yet look at me now." Huffing at himself for his behaviour, he turns back to you. "Why don’t we see how this-" signalling between you and him, "-goes, hmm?
"Wait," you take a step back from his presumptiveness.
Which isn't wrong, per se. In fact, he is completely spot on. Goo is an objectively attractive guy, you would be blind not to realise it (or have questionable taste). Sure his personality offsets his looks, because good god it can be grating as hell, but even with all his flaws he has wormed himself into your heart and into your life too.
You flitter somewhere between friends and more. Friends, with this odd, prickly, scheming creature is a miracle in itself. You’re not sure why this red flag shines green with you but he does. You don't know how you balance each other but you do. You don't know how it works but it does.
Moving this to something more though, it scares you. Especially if he's as blasé and unserious about this as he is with most things in his life that don't revolve around money.
"Goo..." You try to phrase this delicately. "Your relationships or encounters or whatever you want to call them don't end well." He gasps at your words. "I don't want to start up some casual whatever with you for you to then change your mind. It could really mess things up between us."
"Casual?" He scoffs, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand, "I've been 100% from the start. You should know I'm all in, sweetheart."
Your breath hitches. This wasn't what you meant. This wasn't what you were asking but he answers your doubts anyway.
"I'm all in on this," he repeats, crossing his heart mockingly though there is no disguising the earnestness in his words; how his actions over the last weeks and months have shown you that he's serious.
Still. You want to double-check.
"...Are you sure?"
"Y/N. Sweetheart." he places your own hand over his heart, "I've never been more sure of anything."
His glasses catch the light. Flashing mischievously and wickedly like it always does yet you can't see any ill intent. There's no hesitancy in his conviction.
"We fit, don't we?" Goo smiles, sensing your apprehension wavering and crumbling.
You can't deny that you do.
"Yes," is your simple reply. You peer at him from below your lashes and find him looking at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
Still pressed against his heart, Goo moves your hand up to his lips. A playful grin that is full of promises spreads across his face. His eyes don’t leave yours as he seals it all, marks it official, with a kiss.
#noone but this goofball can motivate me to randomly write almost 3k words#but daddy i love him#lookism#lookism x reader#goo kim#goo kim x reader#kim joongoo#kim joongoo x reader#lookism fics#wannaeatramyeon
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Paper Rings. || Joe Burrow
*The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet.*
When Ja’marr Invited me to the Super Bowl after party I was not expecting the level of commitment they had given to celebrating. I don’t think there is a single person in this room other than me that’s sober. I’ve been hiding away in this corner hoping that J will have forgotten I’m here, and for a while it works. Once he spots me I have no way out. He’s coming over with a goofy grin on his face followed by what looks to be his buddy Joe. In all the years that Ja’marr and I have been friends I haven’t actually met Joe. Until tonight I guess.
“What are you doing over here?” Ja’marr asks, pulling me into his side and looking expectantly for my answer.
“I’m just enjoying the festivities..in private.”
“I have someone I want you to meet.” He turns around waving for Joe, who had got caught up by someone in the crowd, to come over.
“Joe this is my best friend from back home, y/n. Y/N this is my buddy Joe Burrow.” Joe holds his hand out and I take it giving a slight shake.
“Joe Burrow? I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.” I say sarcastically in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Well I’ve been waiting for this for a while. Chase talks about you all the time. It’s nice to put a face to the stories.” He says, the nervousness still evident in his voice.
“J likes to keep me hidden away from all of his friends. He thinks they’re gonna fall in love with me or something.” Joe’s grin reaches all the way to the corner of his eyes and he glances sideways to see J just staring off into space.
“I guess it’s a good thing he’s too high to understand what’s happening right now.”
“Looks like everyone is.”
We talked for a while longer before he got swept away, and maybe it’s the contact high from all the weed but I went home and read everything I could find on the internet about Joe.
*The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month or two or three.*
Why do people think inviting single people to weddings is a cool idea? I’ve been sitting at this bar for 20 minutes waiting on my glass of wine, which isn’t free by the way. The only reason I agreed to come to this silly thing is because the bride is the only friend I’ve made since Ja’marr convinced me to move to Cincinnati two months ago. Weddings suck. I’m so immersed in my thoughts that I don’t even notice when someone slips into the seat beside me. My eyes grew wide as I glanced over to find a familiar mop of brown hair.
“Be honest, are you stalking me?” He asks playfully. If he’s been at this thing the whole time I definitely didn’t see him.
“Why would I stalk some meat head football player? I mean you’re not even rich.” I spit back playfully.
“Okay, you got me there. What are you drinking tonight?”
“I’ve been waiting on a glass of wine, I think he forgot about me.” I fake pout.
“Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.” He waves down the bartender (who momentarily fanboys) and asks for two glasses of white wine, we have drinks within seconds.
“Oh the perks of being QB1.” A blush creeps onto my cheeks as he examines my face.
“I’m sensing you’ve got a problem with meat head football players.”
“Only the kind who get special treatment.” I pick up my purse and take out some cash to pay for the wine but he immediately pushes it back towards me.
“Let me.”
“I don’t need any charity Joe. I can pay for my own drink thanks.” I go to slide the cash onto the counter again but he stops me for the second time. “How about you just let me get the drink and you can pay me back?”
“And how do you suppose I do that?” I question suspiciously.
“Let me take you on a date?” His eyes are hopeful and they aren’t looking away from mine. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. I stand up placing the cash on the bar in front of him before leaning down to whisper in his ear,
“Like I said, I don’t need any charity from you.” With that I turn on my hell and walk out the door. I hate weddings.
A few hours later I receive a texts that says:
I need the charity, go on a date with me?
I hate to admit it but I thought about Joe for the rest of the night. It only took him two months of texts and well timed “visits” to J’s until I finally said yes.
I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh-huh, that’s right. Darling, you’re the one I want.
Okay, so maybe I underestimated what it would be like to date the most famous quarterback in the NFL. My self-esteem has taken some major blows over the last year and with another season of football looming around the corner I don’t know if I can take it anymore. Fans are not thrilled to see Joe dating a normal “average looking” woman. Every time I show up to a game and they put me on that damned jumbotron there are clips of me circulating for a week until a new one comes about, the entire world just picking me apart. Which is why I have been strategically avoiding Joe’s questions about whether I will be attending his first preseason game tomorrow. Until now that is..
“Okay, talk to me.” Joe says, staring directly into my eyes as we sit across from each other at the kitchen counter.
“Talk to you about what?” I laugh nervously and start to fidget with a leftover piece of paper from crafts with his nephew yesterday.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Why aren’t you answering my questions about the game? And why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” He says matter of factly, taking the paper out of my hands and messing with it himself.
“It’s nothing.” I mumble looking anywhere but at his face.
“Y/N.. if you don’t tell me what is going on, I’m asking J.” No way he just pulled the Ja’marr card. Who told me it was a good idea to date my best friends.. other best friend.
“Fine.. I just.. your fans don’t really like me Joey. I don’t know if I want to subject myself to the same torture I went through last season.” He sets the paper aside and pulls my hands to his mouth. Letting his kiss linger on my knuckle for a few quiet moments as he thinks about how to respond.
“I don’t care,” he looks me right in the eyes, “I don’t care what they say, or what they think they know about our relationship. You’re my girl. You’re the one that I want. Nobody is going to change my mind, don’t let them get in your head.” I can’t help the love and appreciation that seeps through me, I pick up the small piece of paper that he had formed into a ring while we were talking and focus on it for few moments to collect my emotions, he laughs and takes it from my hand before walking around to my chair.. “I love you, and it’s not because of what other people do or don’t think of you, it’s because you’re you. And because even if the only thing I had to give you was this little paper ring you’d still love me back. That’s what’s important to me. Not all that bullshit on the internet and in the tabloids.” I laugh as he slides the ring on my left hand and wipes a tear from the corner of my eye.
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say at one time.”
“What can I say, you’re worth getting passionate about.” I stand up and pull him close, leaning up to kiss him.
“I guess I better find me a game day fit,” He smiles before laying another peck on my lips, “I love you too, Joey. Just so you know.”
“I know.”
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wazzup!!
so glad to see you back! I hope you’re doing well :)
anyways I wanted to request for something, idk if you’re still doing tmnt 2007 but— wanted a bit of funny scenario. How would they react if their partner slapped their ass out of no where.
How They React To You Smacking Their Butt (Suggestive/Crack-ish)
2007!Turtles x reader
A/N: I hope this is in the direction of what you were looking for. It’s on the shorter side, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it💚
Warning: Butt smacking, implied sex.
Leonardo:
To be honest, Leo isn’t much of a fan when it comes to getting his butt smacked. The first time you smacked Leo’s behind, was a short distance away from the rest of his family. This caused Leo to turn towards you with absolute panic written all over his face, so many emotions rolling through him. His partner had just smacked his butt with his brothers and father in the room. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem like anybody noticed, but still, for a moment his soul almost left his body.
But of course you found that hilarious. And before Leo knew it, you would use this as a way to kill your boredom, when you felt like his training took too long. It would usually end with you cashing Leo around the lair in front of his whole family, with him covering his behind telling you to stop it, while you would rub your hands together, getting them ready for the ultimate smack.
Raphael:
The first time you decided to smack Raph’s behind, his reaction was to get flustered, absolutely unsure of what to do. He had done it to you several times at that point, but never had he imagined that you would do that to him. So there he stood, frozen in place, his face feeling hot while you stood laughing beside him, finding his reaction hilarious and adorable.
However the second time you did that, while Raph was walking by where you were sitting on the couch, he spun around instantly, a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. This time he wouldn’t just let you get away with it, so this time he started chasing you around the lair, so that you could get a taste of your own medicine, before he would take care of your ass all night.
Donatello:
It wasn’t uncommon for you to smack Donnie’s butt, but Donnie being Donnie, would be as unbothered as he could be.
Give him a light clap as you walked by, and he wouldn’t react at all. Not a muscle. Not a word. He would simply just continue working on whatever he had in front of him.
Should you do it while his talking to someone, it wasn’t uncommon for Donnie to give you a playful push or a small kick with his finger, while trying to hide a smile.
Are you alone with Donnie feeling somewhat playful, he would sometimes stick his butt out at you, jokingly saying that you could do better than that, making you so flustered, that you either just sat down or left the room all together.
Michelangelo:
Let me just warn you; don’t smack Mikey’s butt if you can’t take the heat!
There’s no such thing as smacking your boyfriend's butt for a quick laugh. You might as well just have yelled from the other side of the room that you wanted sex, with the way Mikey would be on you in less than two seconds. Didn’t matter when or where. And that is when the laughing would start, as Mikey loves bringing some sort of humor into your intimate life.
Smack his behind while he’s speaking with someone, and Mikey would abandon whatever conversation he was in without any explanation, before heading straight for your butt, usually making you break out into a sprint, as you had smacked him for fun and wasn’t actually intending on sex… at least that was your excuse. One smack from Mikey and you were on.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt leo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey#tmnt x reader#tmnt 2007#tmnt 2007 x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leo 2007#tmnt leo 2007 x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt leonardo 2007 x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt leonardo 2007#tmnt raph 2007#tmnt raph 2007 x reader#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt raphael 2007#tmnt raphael 2007 x reader#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt donnie 2007#tmnt donnie 2007 x reader#tmnt donatello 2007
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