#anyway this gorgeous gorgeous man was performing

[thesingingrevolution]

giggled so hard basically that cool and nice and sweet guy in my dance club was performing a choreo i love and he adapted a part where he kneels down and points to the audience and i was there watching with a few friends and this man looks me in the eyes and smiles and points at me yeah i felt like i was at an actual concert and got noticed by a fav it was so sick i loved it so much i was literally giggling so embarrassing 🦋🦋🦋🦋

[sangrialuvr]

watched the first three ah boys 2 men

[tenitchyfingers]

I mean, people who watched Good Girls and don't see what a great fucking job Matthew Lillard did on Dean are just pitiful. Like this character could've been the blandest, most boring and meaningless one on tv ever, and I've seen similar ones too being played, you know, that way, with no pussy put in them. And I would've hated THIS character so much had he been played by literally anyone else. But there's a humanity and a frailty coming through with this performance that just steals my heart. Yes the character is not a goddamn saint, yes he fucked up, yes he did shit that gets you angry because of how dumb he was in s1-2. But throughout it all you see so well how Dean is just a person (in fiction anyway) and how he feels the way a person would. He's not a stereotypical man, he's not a performance, he's a guy who's pretty normal and feels like just a guy, with human complexities. Stan feels the same. And I really do believe it takes breaking a character into pieces to see who they are and how they work, and I love how Dean is fundamentally a flawed person who's grown SO much since season 1, probably more than anyone else, and you see that growth through this performance. He just feels authentic. Rio, though? That guy's just such a one-dimensional Bond villain. Seriously, no depth is put in that performance, there is nothing real in it and honestly? That's why I want him dead. He's a flat character played by an actor who gave a flat performance. and hey, I'm not saying Manny is not a good actor, he just probably could not get into the mind of someone doing what he does. He's too surface-level for it, which is counter-intuitive because playing evil villains should be fun and should get you to dig deep within a character and find ways to connect to them. But Rio just feels like a pretty shell and the hotness factor wore way off back in the beginning of season 1. And I mean, I absolutely LOVE bad guys, shit most of my favorite characters ARE bad guys. My favorite performances by Lillard are the bad guys. But honestly, he's the best performer in this show along with Reno Wilson and Christina Hendricks. It's not just because I'm currently hyper-fixating on Lillard, it's because he's objectively a scene stealer even as, if not even more as, a supporting character. And that's his thing, he gets cast as a secondary character and delivers the best performances in anything he's in. I'm not going back on this.

[ghostlemon36]

Just got home from the P!nk concert and I’m having feelings

[veganhamsalad]

My distaste for reanimating dead performers at damn near any capacity vs the all consuming grief that drives me to do things that make me feel like they’re back, even just a little

[xiaq]

I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.

Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.

Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.

Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).

After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.

Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.

The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.

So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:

"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."

And:

"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.

"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"

"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."

"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."

The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.

Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.

[celestialholz]

Live long and fuck in Hondas (or 'why that Vulcan salute is way more significant than you think it is')

Hey. Hey Holz. Did you know Deadpool and Wolverine fucked in the Odyessy? Did you know that they now live in a one-bed with Blind Al? Did you know that -

Yes, friend. I know all of it. And you're all super fucking valid for pointing it out.

... But maybe all of you aren't seasoned Trekkies like me. Maybe not all of you gorgeous people understand the true significance of this.

Or maybe you just want a definitive way to win the argument of "are these two fucking?"

But either way, I'm here to help, and to tell you why, amongst all the absurdly homoerotic text of this film, this moment? Might be the gayest of them all.

Now, we must start by saying that although you wouldn't know it from the bullshit Abrams films, these two:

Are the fathers of gay fanfiction. Spock and Kirk here are the reason you're living in the fantastic timeline where you can write/read men fucking without any other shred of plot and that this is a legitimate and normalised internet experience - everyone say thank you, iconic papas. These guys were so homoerotically coded that even in the 60s, the era of wondrously overdramatic performances of all kinds and fairly prevalent homophobia, The Girlies still took notice, still started mailing each other fics and making zines and being just hugely excited at the thought of these two getting space-married. They are fandom as we know it today's beginning, and seventy years later they're still an enduringly popular ship on AO3. (You should all go and watch Amok Time, by the way. Contains the Honda Odyessy scene of the 60s, except there's weird biology and wrestling and just go and put it on your screens, thank me later. They fucked on that planet.)

Anyway, these two were as close as early colour TV could ever allow two men to be, deepening their *coughs* friendship almost every single episode or film - Trek's creator Gene Roddenberry even gave them a unique word in Spock's Vulcan language, with the meaning of 'friend, brother, lover.' (And if that isn't ringing any Poolverine bells, I'm not actually sure what you want out of this post. Enjoy it anyway, love you.)

... And then we get to 1982's The Wrath of Khan, and to that moment that every iconic screen couple must face - the ol' classic, it's you or me and I won't let it be you.

Sure, the set-up's a little different here - the chamber Spock's in is filled with radiation, and the scene's quieter, softer. And Kirk isn't a mutant so he can't smash his way in, he can just sit there and inwardly die as his emotional support Vulcan does.

... But you get where I'm coming from here. Ryan Reynolds doesn't take a million other potential love scenes from across the cinematic ages - no, he takes this. What is for many the romantic acknowledgement of a whole generation. The humble and desperately sweet beginning of it everything we fans know and love nowadays. The most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in television, directly comparative to what is now arguably the most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in cinema. And lest we forget, Wade doesn't believe in a fourth wall - this is a conscious choice, both in canon and in the writer's room.

Oh it's so clever and so beautiful a girl could weep. Ryan just introduced the MCU to the gays, just as Kirk and Spock did all those years ago to the masses of the time.

And then there's what it means.

This is the Vulcan salute, created to mean either 'live long and prosper' or 'peace and long life' - it's used more or less interchangeably.

But part of that's irrelevant when you're as immortal as these two.

So we're left with the sentiments of prosperity and peace, given to a man who up to this point can't imagine ever prospering again, is the furthest thing away from being at peace. Wade gives Logan the opportunity to go on, to find the things he's been lacking for so long now - things he has already helped him find. Spock tells Kirk during The Wrath that 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,' and that's exactly what Wade's doing here - sacrificing himself for the greater good of his friends and his newly beloved, however much it will hurt them all.

And that's lovely, and poignant, and character-growing, and I think we all would have been content to leave it at that and have our noble sacrifice, however much we would have wept. Kirk goes on to find the remnants of Spock's soul in the next film in the series, to bring him essentially back from the dead because he felt it was more than his own soul's worth not to have done... which, again, ringing a bell anyone?

Because Logan, in not so many words, tells dear Wade to fuck right off, and we get this.

What we've got here is a direct translation of one of cinema's gayest moments, made somehow infinitely more gay. A true achievement here - I genuinely think I spontaneously acquired tetanus in the cinema for a good minute, my jaw dropped so hard on seeing this. The pillars are the same colour as Kirk and Spock's original uniforms, for fuck's sake. I'm dying out here.

What we've done here is create narrative equality. The whole film's kinda done that leading up to this anyway - they're both mentally fucked up men who can't die, who are constantly dying anyway, who are evenly-matched in battle and both enjoy Honda fucking, who have forged a real love even as they piss each other off at every turn.

But here, they place one another in narrative equality for the first time. It's not about a sacrifice, not now, even though they're assuming it is one - it's about what should be done. It's about righting wrongs, being heroes, being together because every option other than that is unacceptable, because neither understands quite how to lose anyone else. They've both made the same choice, and that's not to let the other die alone.

It's about holding hands and loving and never letting go, even if it kills them.

... It's just about the most romantic and gorgeous thing I've ever fucking seen.

There are no more instances of masks, once they're done in this station. They don't need them any longer; they will never need them again.

And that's only emphasised by the parting shot we get of this... almost directly after Vanessa and Wade share a final sweet look.

I don't know, man. It's almost like the true conclusion is hidden behind the acceptable masquerade. Imagine that in the MCU, folks.

They've taken one of the most intimate and sweet moments in screen history, and made even more glorious.

They did The Wrath of Khan better than The Wrath of Khan did it.

And that's... that's gay. That's just about the gayest thing they could ever have done, and I adore it to the smallest pieces.

So remember, the next time your friends disbelieve you... show 'em this. Show them that they redid the very beginnings of slash fandom, and did it better.

(And then you can add on that they now live in a one-bed with their grandma, daughter and dog, and will do for the rest of their lives. Kirk and Spock didn't even get THAT shit.)

[lawsvalentine]

Dating a Popstar S/O • OP Men HC •

(FLUFF/HUMOR)

Popstar!reader

Characters: Monster trio + Law

CW: none just cuteness and shits and giggles 😁

Cee’s Note: Got inspired from Film Red movie and now I can’t stop thinking about popstar!reader. I’m definitely gonna make a nsfw hc about it 🤭 anyways enjoy!

Luffy

If you’re writing lyrics, Luffy will insist you use ones he came up with

Let’s just say his choice in lyrics are….interesting

“No”

“C’monnnn y/n”

“No, Luffy”

“But, why-“

“I am not adding “and they’re morons” to my song” 🙄

Loves to help you rehearse your dance routine before a performance (sometimes chopper joins in as well)

I imagine it’s like this video of tom and zendaya dancing

Will interrupt your performance onstage for the most mundane things sgdhdj

“Y/NNNN! I’m hungry, how long til your concert is over?”

“LUFFY?!?! I’m in the middle of a performance! Get off the stage!!!

Zoro

He is literally your bodyguard and will not hesitate to slice someone if they try to grab you on stage

God help whoever decides to trash talk you or your music, they will be met with his blade 🤭

Puts up a front that he’s not into pop music but you swore you saw him bobbing his head to your songs one time shdhdj

“I saw you boppin your head” *smirks*

“NO! that was me…uh…nodding my head…to Usopp b-because he asked me a question”

“Yeah whateva” 🙄

Sanji

He is literally your biggest fan 🤭

Will literally be decked out in your merch, rockin a “I ❤️ Y/N” shirt

Mans nearly fainted when he first saw you perform on stage sghssj

Always actin a fool in the crowd with all his love outburst

“Y/N-SWANNNNNNN! YOU’RE SO GORGEOUS AND TALENTED!” *spins around with heart eyes*

Despite all your screaming adoring fans, he manages to be the loudest one in the crowd

Law

He will play it off like he’s unfazed by you being a popstar, especially if he’s dating you

But mans is lowkey a fanboy of you sghdjd

PLSS he will know all your songs 😭

He thinks you are the most talented person alive and mans is head over heals for you

He has a favorite song of yours that you didn’t know until he asked you to sing it for him one night

“You want me to sing-“

“Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is”

He’s so embarrassed but you think it’s adorable

He thinks you have the prettiest voice he’s ever heard 🥺

Shanks

Loves to show you off

Couldn’t be prouder to have the world’s biggest and most stunning popstar on his arm

Will do the absolute MOST with pda in front of paparazzi

“Shanks! Not in front of the cameras”

“Let em take pictures. Need the whole world to see you’re mine”

Will surprise you with post performance flowers

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Telepatía

✧.* Request- @cvmtitss

"Hey, my first time requesting you! I was wondering if you could do a joost w a fem reader where she's famous as well and she has a concert but doesn't think joost can make it due to him being busy or she thinks he has a tour and he comes back early without telling her. And so while she's performing the music, either suddenly changes or turns off and then she turns around and sees joost like proposing overall it js seems rlly cute and fluffy ❤️"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Musician! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff

✧.* Summary - Joost proposes to the love of his life while she is performing on stage in front of thousands of fans.

✧.* Extra- The reader's performance will be inspired by Kali Uchis' stage performance at Lollapalooza in Brazil (2023) because i'm obsessed with that fucking performance LMAO but if you guys don't like it, ofc change it up for your own imagination. Also highlighted parts are dutch.

✧.* Word Count - 1,442

It was one of the last tours that (Y/N) was doing and she decided to add the cherry on top in Brazil. She had everything ready to go. Her crew, her outfits, the stage, but she was missing one important thing. Her man. Joost was always there to support (Y/N) at her concerts. Whether it was on stage performing with her or watching her with heart eyes behind the scenes. This time, he was on his own tour in Europe, which was what (Y/N) thought.

It was a couple hours before the show was about to start and (Y/N) was starting to get ready while being on the phone with Joost. l “I’m really sad you aren’t here with me, my love,” she expressed.

She heard Joost softly chuckle on the other line. “I know, honey. I wish I was there with you. I love watching you sing and dance, but this is your last show and I finish mine next week. We’ll see each other soon, very soon, gorgeous.”

(Y/N) was content to hear that. She couldn’t wait to see her lover. “I know, im so excited to see you again. Anyways, I got to go. My stylist just arrived,” She blew him a kiss and ended the call with ‘I love you’ one of the few phrases she knows in dutch.

Mine while, in a small town in Brazil, Joost made a plan to get to where (Y/N) was performing and get on his knee to pop that one particular question he’s been waiting to ask her. He landed there a couple days before (Y/N) was set to perform. He presented his plan to his crew and they immediately were on board to help him. His social media crew helped give the allusion to the media that Joost was still in Europe. He had it all planned out carefully and it was all going smoothly. The only thing getting in his way was time. He had to wait a good couple of hours to sneak into her set.

Joost managed to get (Y/N)’s manager’s number and immediately called him. A couple rings pass by until he heard the sound of the other line getting picked up. “Hello?” he heard the voice of (Y/N)’s manager say.

“Hey, what’s up man, it’s Joost. Can I facetime you real quick?” Joost asked.

“Yeah man,” the manager said. They quickly switched to facetime to talk “face to face” (virtually).

“You will never guess where I am at,” Joost said in a jokingly manner. He turned the camera to a small flag of Brazil and giggled.

“Are you serious? That’s awesome, dude, welcome. Does (Y/N) know you’re here?” the manager asked. Joost turned his camera back on his face and shook his head, saying no.

“No, and we need to keep it that way because…” Joost picked up a small black box and opened it. It revealed beautiful gold ring with the most alluring diamond on top to show the camera.

The manager let out a happy laugh, “That’s fucking awesome, man. Are you going to ask her after her show?”

“No, I’m going to ask her during her show, on stage. And that’s why I called to ask you if you can sneak me on set and not tell her. I want this to be special to her,” Joost replied.

“100% we’ll let you on stage and hide you. (Y/N) is going to love every second of whatever you plan to do. Uh, yeah, alright i’ll alert everyone about the plan and let you know when she arrives at the stadium” the manager said. Joost gave him a quick thank you and goodbye before hanging up the call. He did a small fist pump and smiled. Now the only thing to do was wait.

Seconds gradually turned to minutes, at least that’s what Joost felt. The more he had to wait, the more he was desperate. It felt like the universe was doing that on purpose to test him. It was killing him. He couldn’t wait to see his lover. His beauty. His woman. His everything.

When the time finally hit, Joost practically dashed out his hotel room and jogged towards the elevator. Him and his crew he took got taxis and they were finally on their way to the stadium. The drive was filled with laughter, smiles, and conversations. Joost knew how to light up a room, so him preparing to do one of the best things ever made everything 10 times better. Even the driver was joining in on the good time.

Joost finally made it to the stadium. His heart realized what was about to happen and started beating faster. There was a lot of fans and reporters there that he had to ignore. Joost always loved to talk to his fans but, at that very moment he couldn’t blow his cover. He needed this to be a surprise.

The backstage crew immediately went into action when Joost stepped foot in the stadium backstage. They did everything in their power to hide Joost and distract (Y/N). Joost would watch his girl from a far and fall in love even more. Her beauty always made him fall to his knees.

It was finally time for (Y/N) to perform. She went on stage with her backup dancers and got into position. They covered (Y/N)’s frame with giant white feathers, like if she was an elegant swan. She was able to hear her adoring fans and got butterflies in her stomach. She heard her fans already cheering even though they couldn’t see anything on stage due to it being pitch black. She loved every moment of it all. It was finally time to wrap this all up.

She heard the introduction music and narrator speak. She turned to her back up dancers and smiled, “You guys ready?” she asked. They all nodded and asked if she was ready, not knowing that question had a double meaning. She said yes with a big smile on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the one and only, the elegant, the heart stealer. Everyone here, please welcome, (Y/N)!”

The dancers pulled back the feathers, revealing (Y/N) and everyone cheered. She was finally performing. Meanwhile, Joost was backstage watching the beautiful performance. He got the little box ready and was preparing himself. He watched as (Y/N) sang, danced, performed with her life. He always loved that about her, she always knew how to put up a performance.

Joost saw the fans go wild and it was just the very first song. They all sang along like it was karaoke and dances to the beats. He watched his favorite girl with heart eyes and before he knew it, the song was about to come to an end. It was finally time to do what he always wanted to do. He told the crew to signal the DJ to prepare to lower the music.

As (Y/N) was about to finish her song, the music lowered and cut off all together. She thought it was a mistake so she improvised and continued singing the song. She didn’t want to disappoint her fans. That was until she heard her fans scream even louder. She got confused and was wondering why everyone was going crazy until she saw some fans in the crowd point behind her.

(Y/N) turned around and saw her man, on one knee with a box containing a beautiful gold ring with a gorgeous diamond showing. (Y/N) couldn’t believe her eyes. She covered her mouth in shock and started tearing up. It took her a couple of seconds before she said yes. She watched as Joost put the ring on her finger with a huge smile on his face. Joost got up and hug her tight.

In that moment, it’s like everything and everyone disappeared. All that mattered was Joost and his lover. “I can’t believe you did all of that, and for me?!” she said to him.

“Of course I did it all for you, my love. You’re the only woman I love and you are my everything,” he replied. Joost gave (Y/N) a kiss on her lips and pulled away to look at her, “I'm going to stay on stage with you and watch because you look like a goddess when you’re performing.”

Joost took the microphone from (Y/N) and turned to the audience, “Brasil! Prepare for this woman to have a new last name! (Y/N) Klein!” The audience erupted in massive roar-like cheers. The soon-to-be newlyweds gave each other one last kiss before a new song played, signaling (Y/N) to continue the show.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Hey peoples i hope you liked this im so in love with this man </3 i like writing to muscian readers cuz then I can add what artist I wanna be like (ariana grande, kali uchis, lana del rey, etc etc)

[dangermousie]

Now that I’ve checked out enough of all three newly-ish cdramas: Fangs of Fortune, Love Game in Eastern Fantasy and The Story of Pearl Girl, the results are kinda surprising.

I am, as you can tell, OBSESSED with Fangs. That is unexpected because while the trailer was gorgeous I couldn’t really figure out much that would make me obsessed from the summary and all the actors except TJR were either ones I am indifferent to or downright dislike normally. And now I love them all. I don’t know what’s the biggest surprise for me - Cheng Xiao, until now literally my least favorite actress from any country’s dramas, giving a good performance that makes me invested or HMH who I remember thinking of as so handsome but so bland but is now just utterly on fire and has entered Dylan in CLJ “you had THAT in you? How?” territory. And the story and the themes and the visuals! I haven’t seen a drama catering this hard to my personal narrative and character preferences since Novoland Eagle Flag.

Eastern Fantasy is even more of a surprise tbh. At least I was interested in peeking at Fangs for the visuals. I almost didn’t even check out Eastern Fantasy at all. I enjoyed the novel but that is never a guarantee of anything with adaptations (and it was never a major love of a book anyway), I like Esther a lot but not enough to watch stuff just for her. DYX is someone I have a soft spot for but not a single drama of his worked for me in years to the extent I kept joking he’s cursed. I hated all the trailers and posters - they looked kooky and not in a good way. Plus my track record of liking it when shows try to go for funny is abysmal and the whole thing seemed targeted to an audience that is so young they are still in middle school.

Only checked out because I had some time and omg it’s funny and clever and darling and the performances and characters and dynamics and the vibe are all on point (and so is potential for angst.) Soooooo good!

And now Pearl. It was by far my most anticipated of the three - trailer was cool, love the leads (and the fact that they reunited!) etc etc. But now? It’s a solid enough drama and enjoyable but it’s my least favorite of the three. A lot of it is genre viewer mismatch - I don’t really like “woman makes her name in trade with a side of hot scary man who eventually helps her” (see 2022 A Dream of Splendor - a well acted big hit that left me utterly cold.)

I just don’t care about the mechanics of trade or Horatio Alger stories even if Horatio in this case is a beautiful young woman. ZLS starts talking about cuts of profit for selling jewel waste products and my brain shuts down. It doesn’t help that while I find LYN character realistic for who he’s supposed to be, their dynamics so far do not make me ship them in the least and in fact I want her to lightly stab him (I genuinely don’t see how it will switch to her liking him.) It’s the same issue I had with Dream as well - just as here the chemistry was great but it was not a shippy dynamic that does it for me.

Oh well, that’s why it’s fun to watch new things, you never know…

[strawhbrrries]

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music. 

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did. 

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt. 

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter. 

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week. 

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire. 

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support. 

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do. 

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house. 

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers? 

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend! 

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable. 

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special. 

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that. 

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you. 

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears. 

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.” 

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs. 

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed. 

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe. 

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god. 

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head. 

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”

[darsynia]

New (Nomad Steve/Nurse!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: As soon as two weeks ago he’d have said that keeping to himself was the easiest part of his life right now… but that was before he met you.

Word Count/Warnings: 2,400 | None

As 1/7 of my Birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, NEw is a first kiss hurt/comfort fic about writing your own happy endings. It's a hugely busy week for you and there's no pressure to respond right now, they'll all be here when you have time!

Excerpt:

Lately it feels like exhaustion is your religion. Stay up way too late, stumble home confused and euphoric and try to will yourself to sleep, then wake up and perform miracles to get yourself back to the hospital for your shift. You’ve always been a night owl, but your shift supervisor practically considers you the ward’s brand ambassador, and to keep the peace, you agreed to stay on the day shift. You’d gotten the schedule down to a science, right up until a tall, gorgeous complication started to jog at the track after hours.

The name he’d given feels fake, but nothing else about him does, and you know all about needing to distance yourself from the horrible things you’ve seen at work. You suspect he was a soldier until he got out, and after that probably a firefighter, but you’ve never asked. Mostly, you just try to keep up with him. The sum total of the words you’ve spoken to each other probably wouldn’t make for a single meet-cute in a romance novel, but they feel consequential enough to you.

NEW

It takes Steve a painful amount of time to adjust to hiding.

It isn’t just that he’s recognizable, it’s that he’s always stood out, always. As a small baby he’d been gasped over by strangers, as a sickly child he’d see concern and aversion in their eyes, and once he’d grown into a scrawny adult, those reactions had just intensified. 

Some accused him of making himself sick to avoid the war, as though he could have secretly known it was coming and starved himself into stunted growth just in case. For some, it didn’t matter what he looked like-- any man who wasn’t at war was fair game for ridicule. Even those who didn’t care either way found his presence unnerving simply because men his age were scarce. He reminded them of the people they missed, the people who didn’t have the ‘protection’ of being physically unable to join up. 

If his life was a narrative, he’d be the best protagonist he could be.

Even so, there was a special kind of hell in wanting so desperately to fight for justice and be told how lucky you were to be disallowed. Back then, it had been important to him not to hide. There were certainly others in the same boat as he was, men who needed groceries, to watch the news in the theater, to have a walk in the fresh air. So he went out anyway. He was the example, the target, the archetype.

Once he had the serum, hiding meant all the hard work by Doctor Erskine and Howard Stark would be for nothing, so he didn’t. Even in tights.

The symbolism was even stronger when he came out of the ice. Now, people look to him as a lodestar meant to bring them all back to decency and safety, and he wants to, but with action, not iconography, no matter how potent. 

That hadn’t been enough, and now they’re here.

“You’ve been tying your shoes for five minutes, man. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Sam.” Steve finishes up quickly and straightens. “Daydreaming, I guess.”

Sam leans over and looks out through the thin rectangle of night sky visible through the thick curtains. “At this point I think you can just call it dreaming. Stay safe out there.”

Steve watches Sam head off into the kitchen before he slips out of the apartment door and locks it behind him. He and Sam keep nocturnal schedules, but Natasha’s expert-level camouflage skills have netted her a day job that keeps them all afloat. Their plan of moving from community to community taking seasonal jobs has worked well so far. 

This is the most ‘domestic’ of their locations to date; they’re spending the lead-up to Christmas in a small city in the midwest full of people who know how to keep their heads down and get things done. No one’s expecting a trio of superheroes to settle in a satellite town whose main attraction is a vintage bowling alley, but there are other calculations to consider. People make eye contact here. They bring their real selves to the conversation, and Steve’s been struggling with some real guilt about that. 

As soon as two weeks ago he’d have said that keeping to himself was the easiest part of his life right now… but that was before he’d met you.

Lately it feels like exhaustion is your religion. Stay up way too late, stumble home confused and euphoric and try to will yourself to sleep, then wake up and perform miracles to get yourself back to the hospital for your shift. You’ve always been a night owl, but your shift supervisor practically considers you the ward’s brand ambassador, and to keep the peace, you agreed to stay on the day shift. You’d gotten the schedule down to a science, right up until a tall, gorgeous complication started to jog at the track after hours.

The name he’d given feels fake, but nothing else about him does, and you know all about needing to distance yourself from the horrible things you’ve seen at work. You suspect he was a soldier until he got out, and after that probably a firefighter, but you’ve never asked. Mostly, you just try to keep up with him. The sum total of the words you’ve spoken to each other probably wouldn’t make for a single meet-cute in a romance novel, but they feel consequential enough to you.

As it has for the past week, your heart starts racing when you get close to the track. The problem is, you were run ragged today, and you feel just like the mermaid from the original fairy tale. Every single step is like knives stabbing the balls of your feet, and your arches are singing ‘fuck you’ so loudly you expect Ursula to show up any minute.

You stop on the bench right inside the gate to let the burning pain subside a bit. The last thing you want is for your burly new crush to think you’re a lightweight, not now that the months of forcing yourself to run after work have paid off so nicely with… well, him.  

Besides Frank, the school’s night security officer and all-around nicest tough-guy in town, there isn’t anyone else visible on the brightly-lit track. You take the opportunity to cross your ankle over your knee and reach for your shoe in preparation to swap it with the sneakers in your bag. These are a new pair, and you’d planned on wearing them every few days to break them in. As soon as you get your heel off you understand just how much you screwed up by not bringing  the others in to swap into once you realized how go-go-go your day would be. The swelling is bad, and the beginnings of blisters sting in various places. There’s no way in hell you can jog today, and walking home is going to be excruciating. It’s a god-damned miracle you have the day off tomorrow.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you mutter under your breath. The John F. Kennedy High School campus is the same distance from the bus stop as your apartment is, but in the opposite direction. Your feet had already been screaming, why hadn’t you gone home instead?”

“Thought you weren’t coming!”

Your crush’s voice cuts through the late November chill, warming your heart. You look up and see him crossing from under the bleachers, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s far enough away that you let yourself sigh, half in addlepated pleasure in seeing him, half in utter frustration at yourself. He’s the reason you came, of course. You’d walk across fire to spend time with this guy, and by the time you head home, that’s definitely what it’ll feel like.

“Sorry, long day,” you tell him once he’s close enough. 

Hurrying, you yank off your second shoe and nearly swallow your tongue from the pain. Tears stand in your eyes, exacerbated by the surprise when you look up and your new friend is right there, almost like he'd teleported over. He’s crouched in front of you, and there’s nowhere to hide from his concerned scrutiny.

He confirms your assessment of ex-military by the professional once-over he’s doing, even more so when he takes your shoe out of your weary hand and tests the bend of its sole with a practiced hand.

“Don’t say it--”

“These are not very good shoes,” he pronounces. With a move as graceful as a ballet dancer, he shifts onto the bench beside you, still examining the shoe. You snag it from his hand and tuck it into your backpack with its mate, pulling out your tennis shoes before zipping back up.

There’s no chance you’ll be able to put them on, but, one thing at a time.

“You’re right. I didn’t expect to be the runner on the ward today, but we were shorthanded.” You wince at your feet, both of which are looking decidedly puffy. Shit, will either pair of shoes fit, at this point? “There’s a ‘best foot forward’ joke I could be making about hoping you’d be here running tonight, but honestly, I’m too wiped out to make it.” You look over as you finish speaking and catch his pleased reaction. It’s understated, but it’s there, enough to make you brave. “I have the day off tomorrow, maybe I can give you a twelve hour rain check? I bet you’re even more handsome in sunlight.”

To your dismay, his face falls and he looks down. You turn your head away, unwilling to see the evidence of just how badly you’d gauged this. He’s very clearly not interested.

“Or not! ‘Not’ is also okay, sorry about that, I--”

The words dissolve on your tongue at the gentle touch of his knuckle on your chin, turning your face back toward his in the time-honored tradition of romantic male leads.

“Please don’t-- Running with you has been-- Believe me, during the day-- I would like to, I just can’t.” Disappointment is etched across his handsome features, but more than that, you can see the way his mind is racing just like yours had just seconds ago. The man looks like he’s desperate to rewind to a moment that doesn’t feel like this.

There’s a remedy to that, and after a day of doing your best to fix everything and everyone around you, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to surge up and touch your lips to his. 

You meant to pull back right away, mirroring that thing where a couple knows each other so well that gentle brush is all that’s needed-- but your midnight warrior is still in the middle of the book. His large hand shifts to cup your cheek, holding you still for his head tip where he deepens the kiss and scrambles your brain. It’s impulsive, desperate, and honest. You grab at his clothing, needing to believe this is real, even as the two of you follow kisses with more kisses like you’re saying goodbye in an airport.

“Doesn’t look much like you’re runnin’!” the security guard calls out, his words so distant they almost don’t register at first.

That ends things abruptly, but the two of you don’t move much farther apart than a few inches, his hand still on your face, yours with a handful of his sweatshirt, right over his heart.

“Textbook,” you whisper, flattening your hand out to smooth over his chest. It’s solid muscle under there.

“Oh?” he asks, pulling his hand away swiftly like he’d forgotten how to be a gentleman in his eagerness to touch you. It’s charming as hell.

“This whole operation, it’s right out of the romance novel guidebook,” you praise. “I ought to look for cameras.” A shadow crosses his face, and you suddenly put the pieces together. “Shit, you’re hiding from something, aren’t you? That’s why you freaked out about coming here in the daytime.”

He’s already standing, but instead of stalking away from you, he’s looking around the track, turning in a circle of deep concentration. He’s looking for cameras, but not in a joking way, not as part of a bit.

“The school district would rather spend the money on Frank than cameras, if that’s what you’re looking for,” you murmur, pushing your voice into steadiness out of sheer determination. “The city contributes. It’s been so much safer when everyone who wants a night walk comes here, but there are fewer of us out in the winter months.” The fall chill is actually helping with the pain in your feet, so that's something.

Your mysterious crush is facing you again, apparently satisfied that the two of you aren't being watched by anything more permanent than good old Frank. “I’m sorry,” he says. The words have a horrid finality to them, but you’re focused on his eyebrows. They’re not on board with the rest of his body language. They’re beseeching, rather than resolute, hopeful rather than harsh.

You have one chance to get this right.

“There are some things I love about my coworkers, and let’s be real, a lot of things I don’t-- but do you want to know the thing I like least about working in a hospital?”

Your whole body is practically vibrating with adrenaline, and you realize this is your opportunity to shove on your shoes. As you do that, you refuse to look up at him. The goal is to bring his critical thinking skills back from ‘fight or flight’ mode. Then maybe you can get the two of you on the same page again.

It takes over a minute, but he lets out a long breath and sits down beside you. “Tell me."

“They’re terrible gossips,” you say, looking right at him. He’s not allowed to make the obvious (ruinous, new-relationship-wrecking) conclusion about what you’re saying, not without having to look you in the eye while he does it. “I can’t stand that shit. That’s why they send me on the errands. I’ve got everyone trained to stop talking when I walk by, at this point.”

His relief is visible. “I can respect that.”

“Good.” You set both feet on the ground and decide to test things out by standing. If you’re wobbly, you feel certain he’ll reach out and catch you. “Tomorrow night?”

“Wait,” he says, the picture of confusion. “You’re not-- You think I’m hiding from something and you’re not going to ask about it?” Even in the dim glow of the nearby track light, you can see the clench and release of his jaw.

“For all I know, you’re hiding from your last girlfriend. I know I’d find it hard to give you up, and I’ve known you for what? Two weeks?” Your feet are screaming at you about as loudly as the critical voice in your head, but happiness has made both just distant enough to achieve your goals. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, which you take to be a good sign. “Would that still be ‘textbook?’ This is all new to me.”

All of the cheeky, sarcastic, and cheesy thoughts that cross your mind would ruin the moment, so you go off script. It’s not the best, but it’s not awful, either.

“New is terrible for work shoes, but it’s lovely when it’s you. See you tomorrow night!”

Stay tuned for more stories in the Ro Roll! Would you like more of these two? Let me know 💚

[sugrhigh]

BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Herbie (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Mechanic!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Smut | Some Fluff | Strangers to Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~10k | AO3 Synopsis: Chris was the best mechanic you’d ever met. He was good at his craft, capable of bringing your dingy car back to life time and time again. He was, also, excellent at riling you up just by existing, which wasn’t the best when you were absolutely convinced he just wanted to be friends with you. But maybe, just maybe, he’d prove you wrong. [You can find part two here]. Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · reader is clueless · personification of an inanimate object (the car is referred to by name and male pronouns sometimes) · improper use of car related vocabulary probably (author is clueless on the topic, they don’t even know how to drive) · discussions of weight and usage of the word fat (in a very neutral manner) · Christopher is Stronk · special guest appearance: Jisung.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: mechanic!chan was suggested by an “anon” (👀), after they watched this performance, and i felt inspired by the suggestion, so i decided to write a little something for it. a little something that somehow managed to gather more words than i ever expected, as usual. anyway, hope it doesn’t disappoint :^)

fun fact: i dreamt once that i wrote a fic called herbie, so i guess the prophecy has been fulfilled now.

Smut Warnings: the reader has an oral fixation · the reader has sexually charged thoughts (i can’t blame her) · pet names (baby, babe, gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, etc) · lots of praising (it’s a staple in my chan fics at this point, oops) · praise kink · strength kink if you squint? · oral [M&F.Rec] · deepthroating/mouth fucking · protected penetration [piv].

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Christopher Bang. 

The man who’d saved your ass countless times in the past handful of months. The man who’d been plaguing your thoughts since the very first moment you entered his repair shop.

And to think it was your older brother’s fault. ‘Get a second-hand car’, he said. ‘It’s cheap and super reliable’, he said. ‘Yes, of course it’ll be fine’, he said. Your brother was, ultimately, full of bullshit. You’d never trust his opinion ever again.

Getting a second-hand car was quite possibly the worst financial decision you’d ever taken.

At first you’d been incredibly excited. You even named it Herbie, after the famous car that was… Well, called Herbie. 

With Herbie, you’d be able to get to work faster, you’d no longer have to stay in uncomfortable social situations just because you were waiting for your ride for the night to take you home, you’d no longer have to balance grocery bags on your tiny bicycle, you’d be independent. 

For two months, you were living your best life with Herbie. But then he started showing The Signs.

It started with the AC not turning on, then, the wipers wouldn’t wipe, until eventually, he shut down completely. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, had it not happened while you were driving on the fucking highway. To say you were pissed was an understatement. That day, when that happened, you were fortunate enough to be with your friend, Jisung. 

Not only did Jisung calm your fit of rage, but he also told you he had a friend who fixed cars for a living. ‘He’s very reliable. He won’t overcharge you, really. I vouch for him, trust him with my life at this point’, which, honestly, finding a mechanic these days that wasn’t trying to find problems that weren’t there to overcharge you was hard, so you took Jisung’s advice and took Herbie to Wolfgang: Repair Shop.

That was where you saw Chris the first time.

You could still remember the exact moment your eyes landed on him. Although, to be fair, the first thing you saw were his boots peeking out from below a car.

“Hello?” You heard a thud after you greeted the pair of legs, followed by a very graceful ‘Fuck!’.

“Just one second!” He slid from under the car, and when he stood from the creeper, you honestly weren’t prepared.

Broad shoulders, strong, defined arms, a mess of curls on his head, plush, pink lips, and that nose. Jisung had forgotten to give you the most important detail about his friend, the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. Even with the oil coating his exposed arms, hands, and the smudge on his cheek, he was probably one of the finest specimens you’d ever seen.

“Can I help you?” He smiled, and God, he had dimples, too. Of fucking course he had to have dimples…

“I’m–I–” You were embarrassing yourself, barely even capable of forming a coherent sentence, all as he looked at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. So you got your bearings, taking a deep breath. “My car keeps dying on me. I’m a friend of Jisung’s, he told me to come to you”.

“Oh!” His eyes widened and he honestly looked beyond surprised. “You are Jisung’s friend?” There was a slight tone of disbelief in his voice, and the way he looked you up and down honestly confused you a bit. Was there a problem with your outfit? It was a bit warm out and this was a nice, comfortable dress… Maybe you were supposed to wear something different to a car repair shop? Maybe it was one of those social rules no one talked about but you were supposed to just know they existed. 

Regardless, you decided to ignore the thought altogether, because he started talking again. “I’m Chris. I’d offer my hand, but I don’t think you’d like to get yours covered in motor oil”, he chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag that hung from his belt, and it genuinely made you smile. “C’mon, let’s take a look at your car and see what we can do. Hm?”

That was how it all started. Chris was polite, he certainly knew his way around these things, and every time you had a problem with Herbie you went to his shop. At some point, you became well acquainted with him, it was impossible not to when Herbie kept dying practically every other week, and when Chris was just so friendly.

You enjoyed spending time at the shop with him, and sometimes you wondered if you were being weird or annoying by staying a bit longer than any customer probably would, but Chris seemed to be just as engaged in the conversation as you were every time, so that spark of doubt in you always died very quickly. 

After a couple of months, Chris simply handed you a piece of paper. ‘Here’s my number. Text me whenever you need’.

And you did. Although, you took a while to text him. You finally did it only because Herbie had started to leak water; after all, that was what he had given you his number for. But it seemed like after that Chris and you just… started to talk about other things, completely unrelated to Herbie.

“You slut, who you texting with that smile on your face? Did you finally get yourself a man?” Jisung teased you one day when you were hanging out with him, supposedly watching movies.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “As if. You know the only thing I attract are mosquitoes, and it’s only because they want to suck my blood. It’s just Chris. He sent me this funny video of Wolfgang, wanna see?”

Wolfgang was Chris’ dog, an overly excited husky that seemed to be a walking disaster. You told Chris once in passing that you liked dogs, that it cheered you up whenever you saw them do their Dog Things, and since then he started to send you pictures or videos of his dog regularly, which you highly appreciated, they did bring up your mood every time.

Jisung blinked at you. “Christopher Bang? My friend Chris?”

“Yeah? Which other Chris do we both know?” You returned your eyes to your phone, chuckling at a meme Chris had just sent you.

“What’s he sending you? Lemme see”, Jisung grabbed your phone out of your hands, ignoring your protests altogether. “Huh… Would you look at that…”

“Why are you scrolling? Stop that, it’s a private conversation”, you lunged at your friend, trying to get the phone out of his hands. After a bit of jostling he finally relented, and you huffed as you diverted your attention back to the chat with Chris.

Jisung called your name, and you looked up from your phone to your friend, seeing his confused face. “You… You do know he’s flirting with you, right?”

“What?” You laughed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous”.

“I’m being serious”, Jisung turned to face you fully on the sofa, looking at your face very intently. He was quiet for a moment, but then he was gasping–rather dramatically, if you might add. “Oh my God! You haven’t noticed!”

“There’s nothing to notice, Jisung. Chris isn’t flirting with me, don’t be silly”, you chuckled just at the thought. As if the Christopher Bang would be flirting with you.

“You seriously can’t be this dense”, Jisung scoffed, turning back to the movie. “You do you, then. I’m telling you, though. He’s one hundred percent flirting with you”.

How ludicrous. Chris had shown zero interest in you for as long as you’d known him. You were sure he only saw you as a friend at best, and that was only because you were on ‘sending memes’ basis now, before you were just his customer with the dingy car that kept needing repairs. 

You’d admit, though, that after a handful of months, Chris had become a really close friend. He’d text you every morning without fail. Most of the time, he’d send you a picture while he was walking his dog. It could be a picture of Wolfgang, or a picture of the sunrise, or a selfie–those were the hardest ones to look at, to be honest. 

At some point, you realised you had developed a crush on him, and looking at his face in those selfies, still a bit swollen with sleep, with his hair a bit tousled, or with a beanie over his head covering his eyebrows, looking incredibly cuddly, wasn’t helping you cope much.

Sometimes he’d text you while he was in the gym, too. Which would’ve been fine, had he not also started to send you selfies when he was there. They were never anything too revealing, he’d always be fully clothed, but the sight of his reddened hands, his bulging veins after lifting, his flushed face, and just overall sweaty form was just something you didn’t need. It always heated you up, made you suddenly feel like your mouth was just too empty, it’d made your mind wander into very dangerous, and very horny territory. 

It was already hard enough to watch Chris work on Herbie. Whenever he did and you were at the shop, you’d start to fixate on the way the muscles of his exposed arms moved, or how his ass looked when he was bending over the motor to do whichever magic he needed to do, it always made you wonder if he’d be able to perform that magic on you, if his hands would touch you as delicately but as precisely as they did with Herbie’s components, or how it’d be like if you were the one bending over the bonnet, preferably with him just right behind you… Regardless, seeing him also at the gym through his pictures was just too much. He’d sometimes ask you weird questions while he was there, too, which always left you a bit confused.

‘mind if i ask what’s your weight? you dont have to tell me if you dont want to, i’m just curious. i’m trying to bulk up, you see. mine’s…’ You didn’t particularly have a problem with the question itself, you just found it odd that he asked you that out of the blue, and for a brief moment you wondered if he’d been trying to say you were fat–which wouldn’t have been the first time that happened to you, having lived most of your life as person with extra fat on their body for what was considered ideal in this society’s standards had already numbed you to questions like these.

You hadn’t told him right away, you simply sent him a ‘why? are you gonna tell me to lose weight? lol’ to which he replied a string of messages in quick succession ‘oh god no. far from that, you’re perfect just as you are honestly. i’m just curious cuz i want to get to…’ He’d go on about his goals and what-not, and you decided to humour him, since it genuinely didn’t seem like he was trying to make fun of you, he actually never brought up the topic again after that.

Chris wasn’t just handsome, he was also cute, and a bit of a dork. A dork with extensive knowledge in cars and each of their components, but with even more extensive knowledge in pokemon and each and every single type.

‘Ice is strong against dragon and ground, you see? So I have to fight this Garchomp with a pokemon that can do ice attacks, but that can also withstand his attacks, like Gyarados, you know?’ The first time Chris pulled an explanation like that, while he was still covered in Herbie’s oil, you understood why he was friends with Jisung. They were both just dorks. Gym rats and dorks. The oddest combination you could possibly think of, but somehow it just added to their charm. To Chris’ charm specifically.

That balance of his technical knowledge, his hotness, and his dorkness, coupled with just how good of a person he genuinely was–always willing to help, always ready to stand his ground for things he believed in–only made you fall stupidly deeper for him. But you decided to keep these feelings to yourself, you liked having Chris by your side, not only because he was the only one who seemed to be able to bring Herbie back to life, but also because he was just a good friend, and you were sure that if you confessed your feelings things just wouldn’t be the same.

Taking Herbie out these days was always a gamble. You never knew when he was going to break down, but sometimes you really had to take a leap of faith. Most of the time it all went fine, but today, it seemed like he wasn’t in a mood to cooperate. Herbie had decided that breaking down in the middle of nowhere at twenty hours on a Friday was the best idea, which left you on the brink of frustrated, angry tears. 

So, obviously, you called the only person you knew could help you in this situation.

“You alright?” Chris asked as soon as he arrived and stood in front of where you were leaning on your car. “Oh, God. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“I’m just so fucking done with this car”, you brought your hands to your face, sobbing once the frustration that had built inside of you couldn’t be contained anymore.

“Hey…” You felt Chris’ body heat practically envelop you when he moved into your space, and, had you not been crying like a baby, you’d probably feel a bit flustered about it. “Are you– Can I– Do you want a hug?”

You just nodded–still covering your face with your hands–because of course you wanted a hug. You were trembling with your quiet sobs, so a hug sounded like absolute heaven at this moment, and when Chris finally leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you to him, the fact that Herbie had left you stranded in the middle of nowhere seemed so insignificant now.

Chris was so incredibly warm. The way he softly caressed your back helped ease your trembles, and, eventually, the tears stopped, too. So you finally moved your hands away from your face, bringing your arms around his waist to hug him as well, just as you buried your face on his shoulder–probably leaving small puddles of tears on the fabric of his boilersuit.

That was when you noticed his attire. Similar to how he dressed when he was at the shop, but clearly completely clean. His boilersuit even smelt like his fabric softener still, and… was he wearing perfume?

You pulled yourself a bit from him, and his calloused hands cradled your face immediately to wipe your tears with his thumbs. You could feel heat spread on your cheeks as he did.

Chris was so close to you still, the heat of his palm on your cheeks seeped into you, shooting straight to your fluttering heart. He truly was incredibly handsome, and as you looked him in the eyes the words left your mouth before you could even think twice about them.

“Wow. Your eyelashes are so pretty”.

A look of surprise crossed Chris’ features, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob, right before he pulled his hands away from your face and opened the driver’s door of your car, giggling. Giggling in that utterly Christopher way he always did.

“Well, yours are, too”, he said while he pulled the lever near the wheel to release the safety latch so he could open the bonnet of your car.

For a moment, you could’ve sworn his ears were red, and you wondered briefly if he might’ve been feeling warm with his boilersuit on, since it was warm tonight, which was why you had decided to wear a dress in the first place. “Were you at the shop when I called?”

“Was on my way”, Chris rounded your car, finally standing in front of it and opening the bonnet. “Ahh, Herbie. You’d certainly seen better days, haven’t you, buddy?” He took his phone from his pocket, switched on the torch, and handed it to you. “Could you hold this for me? Please?”

“Why were you going to the shop this late?” You asked as you pointed the light towards Herbie’s insides.

“Was gonna work on the bike. Angle this a bit, please”, Chris took your hand, angling it however he needed it so he could see whatever it was he needed to see–for you he might as well had been doing dark magic on your car. You saw him push cables around like he knew what each of them was for, which he surely did, this was his livelihood, after all, but it all just looked the same to you, so you were immensely relieved that he was able to help you out tonight.

“You fix cars all day and still have the drive to work on your bike in the evening?” You chuckled, just as Chris moved your hand to point the light somewhere else.

“You’d be surprised how much drive I can have when I’m doing something I like”, there was a smile on his face as he said it, and honestly you couldn’t help but believe him. Just like you couldn’t help but wonder what else he could like that’d fuel that drive of his… “Alright, we’re gonna have to jumpstart it. Gimme a sec”.

Chris left your side for a moment, and he returned almost immediately after with a jumper cable in his hands. Once he had attached it to his 4X4’s and Herbie’s battery, he instructed you to go back to the driver’s seat and to turn the ignition at his signal.

You did as asked, and as soon as you did Herbie came back to life, making you heave a sigh of relief. Chris appeared by your door a few seconds after. “Let’s go to the shop, yeah? I don’t think he’ll make it much further, to be honest”.

And honestly, you didn’t think your car would make it far, either. So you followed Chris’ 4X4 out of the area and through the familiar roads to his repair shop. You couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful, not only because he was helping you now, but because he always did it. Whenever you’d needed him, he’d always been there, which did nothing to appease the ever growing feelings you had for him.

When you made it to Chris’ shop, he simply opened the gate to the garage and signalled you to come in. You got off your car as soon as it was parked, just as Chris was unzipping his boilersuit, revealing his black vest top underneath and his admittedly mouthwatering arms as he tied the top part of the garment around his waist.

“Thank you, Chris. Really”, you told him as soon as he stood in front of you, handing him Herbie’s keys when he opened his palm.

“Oh, please”, he waved his hand as if to dismiss the thought, as if what he did was something not even worth thanking him for. “I’m glad you called, I would’ve felt really bad if I couldn’t have helped you with this”, he gave you a smile, one of his blinding smiles that made his dimples appear on his cheeks and his eyes disappear, and you suddenly felt your cheeks warm up and like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

Chris made sure to place a wedge behind each of Herbie’s wheels just so the car was secure in place, and then turned to you. “Come with me”.

He guided you to the sink by the corner of the shop. Pumping some soap into his hands and opening the tap, he started to generously lather the suds all over his hands. 

“Come here, you need to wash your hands, too”, Chris took your hands in his, getting them all soapy, making sure to spread the soap between each of your fingers, going as far as to rub your hands between his, or lace his fingers with yours to fulfil the task.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Chris, I didn’t touch anything”.

“You sure?” He chuckled, but his motions didn’t stop. “It’s better to be safe than sorry, no?”

“I guess”, you didn’t think your cheeks could’ve felt any hotter. You seriously hoped it wasn’t that noticeable.

After thoroughly rinsing your hands under the tap, he gave you a clean rag to dry them on just as he motioned for you to follow him again. So you did, walking past his half restored bike and into his office.

Chris placed Herbie’s keys on the designated case that corresponded to the number in which you had parked your car, and then turned to the minifridge. “You want a soda?”

“Sure”, you took the glass bottle from him as soon as he opened it and handed it to you. You always found it odd that he had glass bottles and not cans, considering how little space he had in that fridge. When you asked him about it once Chris simply went on about how ‘Cans just don’t taste the same! The soda tastes so much better when it’s drunk from a bottle’, and as soon as he said that you just couldn’t untaste it anymore. Glass bottles were, ultimately, superior.

“‘Suppose I’ll get an uber”, you sighed after you took a sip of your drink, walking a bit so you could lean against the wall.

“An uber? Nonsense, I’ll drive you home, don’t worry”, Chris took a sip of his drink, just as he leaned on his desk.

“Aw, c’mon. You already went out of your way to rescue me. I don’t wanna take more of your time”.

Chris scoffed. “Don’t make me beg”.

“I wouldn’t dare”, you chuckled, although you were suddenly curious of what would happen if you did make him beg… “But what about your bike?”

“The bike won’t be ready anytime soon. The only reason I was coming here was because I was restless at home. Now I’d much rather spend some time with you, to be honest”, Chris took a sip of his drink again, and suddenly holding his gaze felt like too much, but the way your eyes decided to focus on his Adam’s apple moving with every sip he took wasn’t that much easier.

“You know…” Chris said after a few moments of silence, pulling your eyes back up from where they had been glued to his neck. “I think it might be time for you to consider letting Herbie go. It’s been months, and I honestly don’t think I can save him”.

You sighed. “I know… But I fear I’ve grown attached to the damned thing. Besides, wouldn’t you lose your most regular customer?” You added the last part with a chuckle, taking a sip of your drink right after.

Chris chuckled. “So you’re saying you only talk to me ‘cause of Herbie?”

You almost choked on your drink. “N–no. Of course not. You’re a good friend, Chris. Truly”. 

He placed his drink on the desk, and a smirk made its way onto his face. “Just a good friend?”

“Uhh… A great friend?” You laughed softly, drinking some more of your soda.

Chris went silent for a moment. As you saw him worry at his bottom lip and looking anywhere but where you were standing, you wondered if you had said something wrong. That was, until he chuckled.

“I don’t think I’m a good friend, to be honest”, he crossed his arms over his chest, bouncing his leg a bit. “Good friends don’t secretly hope for their friend’s car to break down so they’d call them for help”. 

You were just bringing your bottle to your lips, but his words made you stop in your tracks. “What?”

Chris looked at you for a moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but then he was tipping his head to the side and laughing. “God, I seriously didn’t believe Jisung at first, but you really are dense for some things, aren’t you?” 

“I am… so confused right now”.

Chris shook his head a bit, and he walked closer to you. “Let me tell you a secret…” He got into your space, close enough that you could smell his perfume, and the proximity made you swallow the saliva that seemed to have suddenly pooled in your mouth. Leaning into you, he brought his mouth to your ear, whispering. “I really, really like you”.

You blinked, and you honestly felt like your brain had short-circuited. “You… What?”

No way was Christopher Bang telling you he liked you. There was just no way. You would’ve noticed… You would’ve, right? You definitely would’ve… Wouldn’t have you noticed?

Suddenly you remembered Jisung. How he’d tried to tell you multiple times throughout the past few months that Chris was flirting with you, that you should shoot your shot, but you honestly had never believed him, because it seemed just so ridiculous to you that Chris could even look at you in that light.

“I’ve, uh… liked you for a while. A long, long while”, Chris pulled himself away from your space completely, and he looked at your face for a moment. A moment that you stayed completely silent, still trying to process the fact that Chris liked you… And for a while now.

You saw his brows furrow as he chewed on his bottom lip. Then he was speaking again. “I just… couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore. When we hugged earlier I realised I wanted to do that more, and that I should probably grow a pair and tell you already. I’d like to take you on a date, if you want, but I can understand if you don’t want to…”

He was rambling. A lot. Saying a lot of things. This was the Nervous Chris you’d only seen a couple of times, the Nervous Chris whose coping mechanism was just to jump to conclusions and talk in a single breath. Suddenly, it all seemed to click into place. The good morning texts, the selfies, the late night talks at the shop after Herbie had died on you time and time again, it was so clear to you now.

“If you don’t like me back that’s fine, you can just say so, I won’t take it to hear–”

You kissed him.

It was barely anything. Just a peck on the lips, but it was enough to shut him up, enough to make his eyes go wide in surprise, and, to your own selfish delight, enough to bring a delicate blush to his cheeks.

“I like you, too”, you said simply, still a bit shocked by his confession, a bit shocked by your confession coming out of your own mouth. You honestly never thought you’d be able to say that to him out loud, but you did. Just like he had.

Chris looked stunned for a bit. But that stunned look didn’t last long, it quickly turned to something else, something raw and incredibly alluring. Stepping into your space again, he brought a hand to the back of your head, holding you in place just as his other hand took the bottle from your hands to place it on the tool cart next to you, right as his lips found yours.

This kiss was nothing like the peck you’d given him. It was loaded with need and want and lust. So much of all of it you couldn’t even believe how blind you’d been. Every press of his lips against yours kindled the fire that started to burn in the pit of your stomach. When his hand joined the other cradling your head, you just couldn’t help the small whimper that came out of your mouth, and that tiny noise seemed to have spurred Chris on, enough to press you flush against the wall as his tongue made its way inside your mouth, as your arms wrapped around his waist.

Heat was spreading quickly inside of you, and you were starting to feel lightheaded–whether it was due to the shock, or due to how Chris was pressing you against the wall, or due to the motions of his kiss and the lack of oxygen, you weren’t too sure. One of your hands laid palm flat on the small of his back, while the other pressed between his shoulder blades, and the hum that came out of his mouth seemed to have travelled all the way to your heart, making it beat even faster in your chest.

Chris detached his mouth from yours, only for a moment, enough to talk. “Does this mean…” He pressed another kiss on your lips. “That you’d like…” And another. “To go on a date?” This kiss lasted a bit longer than the others, it lasted until you nodded your head.

“Yes”, you pressed a kiss on his lips, just as your arms moved to loop around his neck and his wrapped around your waist, keeping you impossibly closer to him. “Would love to”.

He hummed again, and he immediately resumed the soft movement of his lips on yours. Keeping you tight against him for a while. Until it seemed like his brain had caught up with him. 

“We should probably stop”, but he didn’t stop kissing you, just like you didn’t, either. You just couldn’t get enough of his full lips on yours, of his tongue pushing against yours.

“Do you want to?” Your fingers made their way through the curls at the back of his head, holding the strands between them just how you’d dreamt to do so many times throughout the past handful of months.

“God, no”, and you believed him, not only because of how desperate he sounded when he said it, but also because he just kept kissing you, talking in between quick pecks of his lips. “But I don’t want… to make it seem… like this is all I want… You know?”

You knew. You knew because you were thinking exactly the same thing. You could feel him against your pubic bone, hard, warm, and it all made you incredibly wet, maybe embarrassingly so. But this was Chris, it was hard to feel embarrassed with him, which was part of the reason why you had developed feelings for him in the first place.

You hummed, just to let him know that you understood what he was trying to say without removing your lips from his. As you kissed him, as you felt him and his warmth, your mind started to cloud a bit. The mix of his motions, of the months and months of pining for him, and the even more months of self-inflicted celibacy clearly made it so logical thinking wasn’t your strongest attribute at this time.

“Would you still… take me on a date… if I sucked you off right now?” The words flew past your mouth between kisses, too fast for you to even think twice and stop them.

“Shit…” Chris pulled himself away from your lips completely, looking you in the eyes. As you took in the flush on his face, his plush, kiss-bitten lips, and his blown pupils, you couldn’t help but think just how incredibly beautiful he looked like this. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead serious”, your chest was heaving, and your fingers carded through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails, making Chris bite his lip and take a deep breath.

“Of course I would. I’d take you to the fucking moon even if I got it wet right now”.

You chuckled at that, and pressed a brief kiss on his lips. “A date is enough, babe”.

“Babe, huh?” Chris took a deep breath, just as you pushed him away from you a bit, enough to have space so you could drop to your knees, uncaring of your bare skin touching the floor. All you could care about was the outline of his length against his clothes when you pressed your hand on it.

“Sorry, you don’t like ‘babe’?” You looked up at him, right in the eyes, just as you untied the sleeves of his boilersuit from around his waist.

“I like it a lot, actually”, there was a bit of a smug smirk on his face, and it had you licking your lips.

Just as you were about to pull the bottom of his suit further down, he brought a hand to one of yours, diverting your eyes back up to his. His gaze had softened, and the smile on his face coupled with that look in his eyes made you flush further. “You don’t have to, seriously. Don’t feel obligated to do it”.

“I don’t”, you reassured him. “I want to do it. Badly. But only if you want it, too”.

“Fuck… I do. So bad”, he licked his lips, and he moved his hand away from yours to place it on your head instead. “You’ve got no idea how much, shit…”

So you resumed your motions, tugging his bottoms along with his underwear, enough for his length to spring free of its confinements. You weren’t surprised with the sight, honestly. A pretty face like his surely came with a pretty cock, too. So of fucking course it was pretty, especially so as precum pooled at its tip, especially when it looked just so delectably hard. It was a bit on the girthier side, but nothing too crazy, nothing you couldn’t handle. If anything, it just made your mouth water, and you licked your lips in anticipation.

“Shit…” You took him in your hand, spreading around the bead of precum that had collected on his tip to give him a couple of tentative pumps, making him swear under his breath and bite his bottom lip. “How do you like it?”

“Fuck… sloppy. Make it as wet as you can, the messier the better”, the words flew past his lips, completely shamelessly, almost as if he didn’t even need to think about them. Chris seemed to be transfixed on the sight of your hand working his length, and you took that opportunity to spit on it, making him groan while you started to coat him in your saliva.

So you delayed no further, dying for a taste, and a taste you got. As soon as your lips wrapped around his tip Chris swore. Loudly. He threw his head back and his fingers seemed to tighten a bit on your head, but he didn’t move you, he let you keep the pace as you saw fit. You started slow, holding him by the base and just bobbing your head for your lips to repeatedly catch on the ridge of his head and for your tongue to rub against the frenulum on the underside, taking him deeper into your mouth with every other stroke.

The moment you opened your eyes and your gaze found his, your inner walls involuntarily clenched around nothing, and suddenly you felt like you needed some relief. But you ultimately decided to keep your focus on Chris, on his lustful gaze, on his furrowed brows, on his gentle hold on your head, and the grunts and groans threatening to come out of his mouth, dampened by the way his teeth trapped his bottom lip.

He wanted it messy and sloppy, so you were ready to give it to him messy and sloppy. It’d been a while since you’d done this, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. With a deep breath, you took him in deeper, breaching past the initial resistance for him to ease into your throat.

“Oh, fuck… You’re kidding… Shit…” Chris threw his head back, letting the most delicious noises out of his mouth, almost making you lightheaded with how aroused his heavy cock in your mouth coupled with his blissed out sounds got you.

You took your time slurping him up, uncaring if saliva dribbled out of your mouth as you worked against your gag reflex, feeling tears quickly collect in the corner of your eyes. When you felt confident enough with your motions, you brought your hand to his that held your head in place, while you placed the other on his hip, holding him tightly. 

“You want me to move, pretty? Fuck your perfect little mouth?” You nodded in response, humming around his length.

Slowly, he started to thrust into your mouth. Chris was being extremely careful, being mindful of every controlled push of his hips, but even with his slow pace, you couldn’t help but moan as soon as he started moving, making him groan in response. That was when you finally gave into your own desires, moving your hand away from his that lay on your head to bring it under your dress so you could press circles on your clit over your underwear, eliciting broken whimpers from your mouth.

“Shit, look at you…” Chris looked fucked out of his mind already, with his heaving chest and the increasing pace of his hips. You were sure you weren’t looking any more collected than he was, especially when you started to feel tears finally fall from the corner of your eyes every time you blinked.

With one particularly precise thrust of his hips, Chris’ length went in further than you were used to, essentially choking you on his cock, making you gag harshly. Chris pulled his length out of your mouth, and you gasped for air immediately.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, so fucking good with that mouth… Come here, beautiful”, Chris helped you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist once you were standing on your feet and pressing kisses all over your cheeks. You were still panting a bit, flushed from exertion, but Chris kissed you anyway, and you kissed him back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Need to taste you”, he mumbled between pecks of his lips. “Please, please, please let me eat you out”.

You just nodded, very eagerly if you might add. But you honestly couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed about it, not when Chris begged so fervently for it. Just the thought of seeing him between your legs had you already clenching with need.

While you kissed, Chris removed his arms from your waist. You felt him fumble with his underwear and his boilersuit, hastily wrapping it around his waist, and before you could even register what he was doing, he was taking a hold of your ass and scooping you into his arms.

“Chris, fuck, wait. I’m heavy as hell”, you were slightly alarmed, but your legs wrapped around his waist for stability anyway just as you held onto his shoulders.

“Heavy?” Chris chuckled, moving towards his desk. “Baby, I can lift almost thrice your weight”.

“You, what?” You asked, a bit confused–and also aroused, because, fuck, how strong was this man…–Chris pushed away some of the items on his desk to sit you on it, close to the edge. After all the revelations that had come to light earlier, it finally dawned on you. “Is that… why you asked what my weight was all those months ago?”

“Of course! Needed to make sure that if I ever got a chance I was able to do everything I wanted”, he dropped to his knees, starting to press tender kisses up your shins. “Must admit I had to stop whole hip thrust sets sometimes because I’d get so fucking hard halfway through, fuck”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a hearty, and slightly incredulous laugh. “Holy shit. I genuinely thought you would tell me I had to lose weight at some point”.

“What? I’d never”, Chris chuckled, bringing his hands to your thighs, squeezing them. “I mean, it’s your body, you can do whatever you want, but know that I find you incredibly attractive however you look”, he moved his hands further up, right under the hem of your dress to finally hook his fingers on the waistband of your underwear. “Can I take these off, gorgeous?”

“Yes”, you giggled, feeling yourself heating up further just by his words and the feeling of his hands on your skin. With your hands on the desk you lifted your hips enough for him to slip the garment down your legs and off of you. He threw your underwear on the desk, and they landed somewhere behind you.

Bringing his hands back to your thighs, Chris rubbed circles with his thumbs for a second, only to finally move them further up, catching the hem of your dress and bringing it with him as he went. You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden. That was, until he finally pushed your legs apart. With the way he swore under his breath and the way his eyes seemed to get impossibly darker as soon as he took sight of your seeping core, any nervousness seemed to have been obliterated, and you couldn’t help but feel just so incredibly wanted.

“Fuck… Even here, huh?” He threw your legs over his shoulders, and you felt yourself heat up in anticipation. “Plump, pretty… Shit…”

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach, it was honestly almost pathetic how affected you felt just by the things he was saying and the sight of him between your legs.

“You know…” Chris pressed his lips to your inner thigh, sucking harshly, leaving marks on your skin, making you inhale a shaky breath. “This is the exact same dress you were wearing the first time you came into my shop”.

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise. “You remember what I was wearing?”

“Hm, ‘course I do”, he moved his attention back to your eyes, just as he pressed a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. “I’ve been dreaming of you in this fucking dress for months, baby…”

“You have?”

“I have”, one of his hands came to grip your thigh, while the other moved to your hip, giving you a hefty squeeze. “How do you like it, pretty? Or how do you not like it, for that matter?”

You licked your lips, suddenly transfixed by the sight of his lips brushing your skin. “Gentle sucks go a long way. I’m a bit, uh… sensitive”.

“Sensitive, huh? ‘Course you are… Hold this for me, hm?” He took a hold of your hand and brought it to one of your thighs, just as he spread you open further, propping your foot on the desk. So you did as asked, keeping your legs open as he diverted his attention back to your heat. “Good girl… Just like that…”

As soon as he spread you with two of his fingers, and he dived, landing soft, tentative licks on your clit, you knew you were done for. Your whole body jolted a bit, and a soft whimper escaped your mouth. “Oh, fuck…”

Chris just hummed, moving to lick at your entrance, getting a taste of your essence with his brows pulled together, looking just so fucking delighted. Just the thought that he was genuinely enjoying himself got you moaning a bit louder under the quickening movements of his tongue, and as soon as his lips pressed on your clit, giving you those gentle sucks you had asked for, your mind just disconnected completely.

He took his time working you up, turning you to a whimpering mess just with his lips and his tongue, gradually increasing his tempo to build your upcoming release. Whenever he dipped lower to lick at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit with every movement of his head, he was essentially making out with your cunt and you would gladly let him do whatever and however he wanted. Your nerve endings were on fire, your toes curled with need, and your walls clenched with his unrelenting pace.

When he detached his mouth from your core you almost wanted to cry, but he only did it for a second, enough to ask a “Fingers, baby?” only to press his lips to your sensitive skin again, sucking your clit into his mouth and licking it with his tongue.

You weren’t sure if the ‘Yes’ actually came out of your mouth, you vaguely only registered your eager nodding and the soft moan that escaped your lips as soon as you felt one of his digits at your entrance. Chris groaned against your skin as soon as he inserted the first finger to the knuckle, the vibration of the sound further fueling that fire in the pit of your stomach. He pumped his finger in tandem with his tongue on your clit, touching and prodding and gauging your reactions to his every move.

One particularly sharp nudge of his finger on your walls had you moaning a bit louder than you were before, and Chris seemed to have picked it up immediately, because he plunged a second finger right after and started pumping his digits in and out, hitting that sweet spot over and over while his lips gently sucked on your clit. You needed to have a hand on the desk to keep yourself up, to maintain some stability, so you shuffled your foot a bit and simply let go of your thigh to bring the hand that was holding it to his head, burying your fingers in his hair and pushing him further against you with a whimper.

Chris groaned as soon as your fingers threaded through his hair, immediately picking up the pace of his fingers and his tongue, bringing you further and further towards the edge, and God if you needed to tip over that edge… With how well he was working you up you felt your lower belly tighten with exertion, and your walls spasm more frequently around his fingers.

“Chris… Fuck, fuck, I’m so fucking close, please–” You almost choked with the moan that came out of your mouth after you spoke, since Chris immediately started ramming his fingers into you harder, faster, just as his plush, now swollen lips kept sucking that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

He was absolutely determined to give you your relief, and as soon as you were able to open your eyes and look at him, the look in his eyes, lustful, greedy, was enough to finally push you over the edge. Searing heat spread all over your body with your release, pure pleasure overflowed each and every one of your senses, making you perceive nothing but Chris, Chris, Chris, and his lips between your legs, and his hair between your fingers, and his fingers inside of you.

Chris’ motions didn’t relent until you were thoroughly satisfied, until you weakly pushed on his head with a ‘Shit, baby, enough, please’ when he had you on the brink of oversensitivity. As soon as his mouth detached from your heat, he pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean before he finally stood up and caught your mouth in a heated kiss. The fact that you could taste yourself on his lips only seemed to spur you on further, making you whimper while you brought a hand to the back of his head and took a handful of his curls to finally get completely lost in the motions of his kiss.

“So pretty, fuck…” He mumbled when his mouth disconnected from yours, cradling your head in his hands as he smothered your face with kisses. “So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, shit…”

His borderline adoring words had you feeling tingly all over, somehow both making your heart swell in your chest and your walls involuntarily flutter even when they were still sporadically spasming from the after effects of your orgasm. When Chris kissed you again, you looped your arms around his neck just as his hands found your hips, pulling him flush to you, heaving chest against heaving chest, getting lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands kneading your flesh.

“Holy fuck”, you chuckled as soon as Chris’ lips parted from yours, and he followed suit, chuckling while he made his way to your neck, to press kisses all over your skin.

“Mmm, I know, right?”

Chris hugged you close, leisurely kissing and licking your neck and shoulders. His soft, lingering touches seemed to shoot straight to the deepest areas within your heart, and even though you’d just had a mind-numbing orgasm, you certainly wanted more. More of him.

“Chris?” You mumbled, hugging him a bit tighter.

“Mm?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then moved to take his earlobe between your teeth, tugging gently before you whispered, “want you”.

Chris took in a shaky breath, and he pulled himself away from your neck to look at your face. God, you wanted to kiss him, his flushed face and his swollen lips would be a sight that’d haunt your wettest dreams from now on, you just knew. 

He licked his lips. “We don’t have to, pretty”.

“Mm… You’re right, we don’t have to”, dragging one of your hands from his shoulders, down his chest, his abdomen, all the way to his length, you pressed your palm firmly, feeling him still hard under your grasp. “But do you want to?”

“Fuck, yeah, I want to”, Chris held your hips tighter, and you wondered if you’d see bruises tomorrow just as he placed a kiss on your lips. “I want you so bad”.

“You have me. Right here, baby. You can have me right here”, you mumbled against his lips, pressing a kiss there right after, just as Chris swore under his breath.

“Shit… Gimme a sec”, he detached himself from you, rounding the desk and pulling one of the drawers open, muttering to himself. “There were some here, I’m sure…”

You turned to look at him, oddly amused by the way he carelessly moved things around in his drawers. “What are you looking for?”

“Aha! These”, he pulled a three piece box of condoms, and he turned it around a few times in his hand with a frown on his face. “I seriously hope these aren’t expired…”

You chuckled at the sight of his focused face, amused, but also incredibly curious. “Why do you even have a box of condoms in your desk’s drawers? How many girls have you had in here?”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first one”, he chuckled, opening the package and taking one of the foil packets out, examining it closely for a moment, only to finally heave a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Not expired”.

With a smile on your lips, you quirked a brow at him, just as you watched him round the desk again to stand in front of you. He shrugged to your silent question, taking the foil packet between his teeth so he could untie the top of his boilersuit from around his hips and tug the rest and his underwear down enough so his length was free again, and you’d admit you got a bit distracted by the sight.

With the corner of the condom packet still held in place by his teeth, he finally tore it open, and you took the bit of foil that was still in his mouth to drop it somewhere on the desk while Chris carefully slid the condom down his length.

“You’d be surprised how many things a condom can be used for when working with cars. They’re always useful when you need to get creative and use whatever you have at hand”, Chris stood between your parted legs, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing.

“What kind of MacGyver bullshit is that?” You chuckled, but the sound quickly turned into a surprised yelp when Chris held you tightly and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk.

“They’ve always been helpful when I’ve needed them”, leaning into you, Chris placed a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss just as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading your juices around and teasing your clit in the process, making you whimper into his mouth. “But I’ll be honest, I’ve never been more happy to have them at hand than I do right now”.

You brought a hand to play with the hair at the back of his head, pulling him for a brief kiss. “Put them to good use, then”.

“Demanding, are we?” Chris chuckled, but he lined himself with your entrance anyway, slowly easing his length into your heat. “Oh, shit…”

It was a stretch, alright, but he was being just so incredibly careful, and you appreciated it, you really did. But you were also incredibly desperate to be filled, so you wrapped your legs around his torso and pushed on his ass with your heel, urging him on, making him jut his hips further forward.

“Shit… Have mercy on me, will you?” He mumbled against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss on your skin while his now free hand made its way to your hip again, holding you tightly.

“Want you”, you replied simply, probably whinier and less demanding that you were trying to sound, but Chris complied with your request anyway, finally thrusting all the way in, making you gasp with just how incredibly full you felt.

“Want you, too”, he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin. The thought of waking up tomorrow and seeing his marks on your neck or your hips made you flush impossibly further, even as he moved along to press kisses on the exposed skin of your shoulder. “Want you so bad I’m genuinely about to burst just by being inside you right now. Need a second”.

Bringing a hand to his cheek, you made him turn away from your shoulder to look at you, and the way he bit his lip before he leaned in for a kiss had you involuntarily clenching around him, eliciting a choked groan from his lips.

“Fuck, driving me nuts… Seriously, we’re gonna have… the best fucking date ever… You’ll see…” He mumbled his words between kisses, and it genuinely had you laughing, because of course he was still thinking about your future date. “C’mon, beautiful. Hold on to me”.

So you did, bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders, burying one of your hands in his hair, all while he placed one hand on the small of your back, and the other on the desk for stability. Finally, Chris moved, starting a rhythm with precise thrusts, making you gasp at the sensation of his length dragging against your walls, making him groan.

“Fuck, shit… That’s good. So good. Feel so fucking perfect around me, baby. Perfect”, with the increase of his tempo you could barely register the words coming out of his mouth, all you could do was whine while you nodded in agreement, hoping that he, too, would know how just incredibly good he felt inside of you.

The way Chris kissed you, almost desperate, the way he started to ram into you, stretching you so deliciously you were already starting to feel lightheaded, all combined had that little bit of sanity you had left in you leave your body entirely, finally letting you succumb to just your utmost primal need for pleasure. But more specifically, for pleasure you could share with Chris.

You honestly couldn’t tell how long you spent getting pounded to that desk, you could just feel Chris’ cock repeatedly splitting you open and his lips on yours and the words that he’d occasionally mumble against your skin, his words of praise and encouragement that had you once again feeling tingly all over, words that fed that pool of arousal inside of you, threatening to spill it all over. You vaguely registered words of your own leave your mouth, too. Words that seemed to spur him on, that seemed to pull blissed-out sounds from his lips and yours nonstop. 

“Lean back a bit for me, gorgeous”, and you couldn’t help but comply, removing one of your hands from his shoulders to place it behind you to lean on it, leaving just enough space between your bodies for Chris to sneak his hand between your bodies, finding your clit and drawing fervent circles on your already oversensitive bud, eliciting a moan from your lips as soon as he did. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby. Just like that, milk my cock just like that, huh…”

“Chris–” You honestly weren’t sure what you were even going to tell him, you could just feel your next high approaching increasingly fast, and you needed it. You needed it badly.

“It’s fine, pretty. Whenever you’re ready, just let go”, he mumbled the words against your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss on it, a complete contrast to his sharp thrusts and the fast movement of his fingers between your legs. “Want to feel you so bad, fuck…”

“Shit–” With a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, you finally got that sweet, sweet relief. The feeling spread all throughout your body, dragging sounds of pure, unadulterated pleasure out of your mouth, making your legs shake from exertion as you tried to keep your hold around Chris’ torso.

Bringing both of his hands to your hips for leverage, Chris chased his own release, his grunts and groans getting lost in your mouth while he kissed you again. One, two, three thrusts and he was flush against you, shooting his load into the condom while he was buried as deep as he could within your warmth, a mix of his groans and your name and a colourful string of swears flying past his lips as he rode the waves of his ecstasy with minute rolls of his hips.

“Holy fuck”, he cradled your face in his hands, pulling you in for one more heated kiss while he came down from his high, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I agree”, you were panting a bit, breathless, leaning back on both of your hands as you tried to catch your breath.

Chris laughed, a hearty laugh that had a smile appearing on your face immediately. Taking a hold of the condom by the base of his length to make sure it was secure in place, he finally pulled out, carefully sliding it off of him, tying a knot and throwing it in the bin by his desk. You missed his warmth inside of you immediately.

Taking a roll of toilet paper from one of the tool carts nearby, he quickly cleaned any remnants of his release from his length before he was tucking it back into his briefs, finally wrapping the top of his boilersuit around his waist again. With more paper in hand Chris asked you to ‘please open up those pretty legs for me, hm?’ so he could clean you up, helping you back into your underwear right after.

As soon as you were standing back on your–admittedly unsteady–feet, Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a quick kiss on your lips only to move up and press another on your forehead. “You okay?”

“I’m more than okay”, you chuckled, melting into his embrace. “Everything hurts, though. How’re you?”

“On cloud nine”, he replied simply, giving you one of his blinding smiles, making your heart race with the sight.

When Chris finally detached himself from you, he reached for the soda he’d taken out of your hands earlier, giving it back to you once you told him ‘I still want to drink it. Even if it’s not cold anymore, seriously’, and after a bit of back and forth he simply relented.

“Would you…” Chris started to ask, while he bent down to take the bag out of the bin. “Would you like to come to my place? I mean, I can take you to yours, too, that’s fine, but I figured, you know, you could stay over, and we could have dinner, and I can make you breakfast tomorrow, and I’m sure Wolfgang would love to see you, and we could cuddle to sleep, you know? But if you don’t want to, it’s fin–”

You took a hold of his hand, squeezing it in yours to stop his rambling. “I’d love to”.

Chris just giggled a bit, pressing a quick kiss on your lips and tugging you out of his office back to the garage once he’d switched off the light. When you were outside, you made your way to his 4X4, watching him chuck the small bin bag from his office into the bigger bin out in the garage and going through the motions of switching every light off in here, too.

As you watched him, your eyes drifted to Herbie, parked in his–by now–usual spot. Maybe Chris was right, maybe it was time you considered letting him go. He’d served you well for those two months at the beginning, and when you were in a pinch he was very forgiving, but his condition was unsustainable at this point.

As soon as Chris was by your side again he gave you a kiss for good measure, opening his 4X4’s passenger door for you. You just smiled at him, pressing one more kiss on his lips before you finally hopped in. Chris rounded the bonnet and started to very animatedly talk about a funny thing Wolfgang had done just this morning, gesturing with his hands while he recounted the event, making you laugh.

While Chris drove you two to his place, with soft music playing on the radio, with his hand occasionally shifting from the gear lever to squeeze your thigh, all while a light, easy conversation flowed between you two, you figured that Herbie might’ve been the worst financial decision you’d ever made, but at the very least, he’d brought you to Chris, so you really couldn’t hold a grudge against him, not when you felt so incredibly light and couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

You can find part two here

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[musette22]

Finally got to see A Different Man tonight, and I'm still reeling two hours later. Even with all the stuff I read about it, all the interviews I've seen, I still wasn't prepared for how much of a trip it was or how absolutely BRILLIANT Sebastian is in it. He's just mesmerising, honestly incredible. And of course the other performances are all amazing too, fantastic work all around. Gahh, it was just such an interesting and weird and funny and touching and thought-provoking film!! And a gorgeous sountrack too, my friends and I have been humming the main theme ever since we left the movie theatre and I'm pretty sure we'll keep humming it for the remainder of our trip lmao

Anyway, I REALLY enjoyed this one, definitely one of Sebastian's best performances to date, and I hope everyone gets to see it for themselves very soon! ❤️

[wormdebut]

Priorities

Word Count: 429 Rated: T for Swears (shocker)

I tried to participate in the very special very hot @steddiemicrofic challenge for the love of my life’s @steddieas-shegoes birthday, but missed the mark by a few words. So here it is anyway. Microfail am I right?

Happy birthday, Mak baby. I love you.

——

This fucking asshole is acting like this wouldn’t be the first time in six years, that they wouldn’t be together on Steve’s birthday and Eddie is pissed.

“I don’t care if it’s a fucking performance for Satan himself. Cancel. It.”

“Mr. Munson…it’s The Tonight Show. They had a musical act drop, and you are already here. You can see your partner, later.”

Eddie has his hand in a fist, so help him god, he will swing.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do Norman—“ Eddie starts, but he’s cut off.

“It’s Noah—“

Eddie cocks his head. “Oh I’m sorry, did you think that I give a shit? So, here’s what we’re gonna do Nolan. You’re gonna fuck off, tell the label they can get fucked and I am going to go catch my flight so I can see my husband on his fucking birthday.”

Eddie stands his ground, stares the man down, until his flinches. His lips curl up into a daunting grin. “Do you understand, Nelson?”

The poor bastard flinches again as Eddie leans closer. “I—yes.”

“Great. Now get the fuck out of my way.”

——

It was supposed to be a surprise anyway. Eddie was on tour, which, he and Steve have navigated a thousand times over at this point. Steve had been ‘fine’ with the string of New York shows that were slated to happen right before his 25th birthday.

He’d said it was fine, but Eddie could read Steve easier than any book he’d ever opened.

Robin and Eddie had been in cahoots.

The Tonight show was not coming in between Eddie and the love of his life.

Absolutely not.

His flight was apparently delayed though and that? That, was infuriating.

He hadn’t even talked to Steve today. Dodging his calls because Eddie can’t keep a secret from him to save his life.

Steve’s birthday was tomorrow and Eddie was getting back to Chicago tonight.

——

Eddie pulls up to their house at 11:56. Four minutes.

He made it.

He smiles to himself, when he passes Robins car parked in the drive, tries to keep his cool, but ends up sprinting up the porch steps.

Ever the ham, he can’t help but knock at their front door and just smiles like a fucking idiot the whole time.

Steve is gorgeous. Always is, but the goofy grin that breaks out across his face makes Eddie want to sing.

“Holy—Eds!”

Eddie can’t help pulling his sweet boy into his arms and kissing that cute ass smiling face. He pulls back, running a finger across Steve’s cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.”