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pookielious · 13 hours

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hi I am interested to hear a bit more about your restaurant au and I would especially love to hear what thoughts you have regarding Gene’s role :)

- magnoliasforyourmedic

OKAY SO GENES ROLE

I kind of thought this thru but basically I imagine him as like a host/ waiter like he's definitely the waiter that always gets the most tips at the end of the night but he'll occasionally fill in as a host if they need him to

He's really charming and he like makes sure you have a good meal and everything is find with it and just in general is one of those servers that like you'll fall inlove with my the end of the night, he'd like that good at his job

I also do believe he's one of the few that has another job outside of the restaurant like he's a part time/ volunteer EMT so alot of the boys do see him as their own doctor or medic of sorts because he's still in the medical field in this au he's most definitely the one always coming up with a hangover remadies for nix or whoever else had been drinking the night before their shift and regular customers, he's also very known for fixing everyone up from their minor scrapes and cuts they get on the job

Ty for the question !! I love replying to these so like if you have any other characters you'd wanna know abt : ))

#band of brothers #101st airborne #easy company #doc roe #gene roe my beloved #gene roe #eugene roe #when he comes in after a emt shift everyone showers him with love and coffee #he greatly appreciates it #he gets ur food to you HOT #like still steaming fresh out the oven #cons aus #easy company grill n bar #connie asks

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suzuki-sibs-bar-and-grill · 9 months

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Basil walks into the bar & grill

"Uh.. Hello..?"

( @basils-plants-and-potions )

Hey, Basil!

Wait a second, when did you get so big?

#suzuki sibs bar and grill #ofa #omori ask blog #au sunny #omori food administration #BASIL!!#we love basil here

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glamnessaau · 2 months

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PLEASE include the Vanessa Bar & Grill in the rebooted comic

I will; don't worry :3

#glamrock vanessa au #fnaf au #five nights at freddys #fnaf security breach #fnaf vanessa #vanessa fnaf #security breach #vanessa bar and grill

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corvidaeconundrum · 1 month

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🟣 for Cesar mark and Sarah!

Purple- What is something that your OC could not live without? What keeps them grounded in the worst of times?

For Cesar, he could never live without his family. Not necessarily the one from before he became not him, though he does constantly think about his mother, and misses her very very dearly. He relies heavily now on the family he’s managed to make for himself. His friendship with Thatcher and Dave is what keeps him motivated to do things, especially when they drag him out to do activities. The BPS group he views like their his own kids, especially Adam. He cares deeply for him, and helps him when things are hard in regards to their true natures. They together keep his pieces from falling apart, and he would not be where he was if they didn’t exist, or ceased to.

For Mark, it’s a very similar case. Sarah is the last living remnant of who he was before, and is the embodiment of everything that made up his past(aside from Cesar, though he doesnt view him as anything more then his absolute enemy for a long time. Eventually they get better and he gets bumped up to a similar though definitely lower level as Sarah) despite his anger towards them in the beginning, he does eventually come around to Joseph and Mary as well, viewing them as some kind of odd aunt and uncle. Jonah he views as some what a son, or close to it. He relates to him, and does hid best to be the friend he deserves, especially after the house incident.

For Sarah, it’s Dave and Mark. She loves them both with all of her heart, and works tirelessly to be good enough for both. To Dave she owes everything, after he had given her a home, a job, and a life when her mother moved away. He raised her better then any of her real family ever had, save for Mark, who was her borderline dad when he was still alive. And she missed him every day. Her search for his killer is what keeps her grounded. It’s what gives her motive. A purpose. The reason she wakes up everyday. She wants to do him justice, and peace. She prays to The Lord every night that he’s happy wherever he is, and that he knows his sister loves him with every ounce of her being. He never responds, and Mark knows he never will.

#corvidae says things #corvidae responds #tmc starbright au #starbright au #starbright #mandela catalogue au #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #mark heathcliff #sarah heathcliff #cesar torres #got the purple question for cesar multiple times and i was so tempted to just say alcohol lmao #which also wouldnt be wrong #he loves his family dearly #but before that he loves the local bar and grill a little bit more #dave is actually the reason he never ‘drank himself to death’#thatcher dave and cesar care for eachother so much it makes me ill/pos #snd then mark gets added into that trio eventually

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halalrestaurantsnearme1 · 5 months

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Halal Restaurants Near Me (United States) More than 1000 types of Halal Restaurants in (United States)

Halal Restaurants Near Me (United States) – Abu Omar Halal

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Halal Restaurants Near Me (United States), Khyber Halal Restaurant & Catering

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Halal Restaurants Near Me (United States) India Palace

And more You can check here

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kaciidubs · 5 months

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Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bangchan smut #bangchan fluff #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader

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upsidedownwithsteve · 11 months

Text

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

��What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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dandylovesturtles · 7 months

Note

Trick: Leo and Draxum

Had an idea here for an End Game AU where:

the boys don't escape, and for whatever reason Splinter can't break out either

Draxum reads the room a little better on what will happen when he puts that Dark Armor on

the boys did a better repair job on the helmet

idk what specific warnings to put on this but uh Leo is straight up not having a good time

---

Leo sees Draxum coming toward their cage, and knows they've run out of time to try for an escape attempt. Instinctively he moves closer to his brothers. He feels them closing ranks beside him, too.

"Now now, there's no need for such ugly looks." Draxum looks entirely too smugly satisfied as he surveys them, just outside of striking range on his side of the bars. "You should feel honored. I have a place for each of you in my glorious army."

"Thanks, but we're too young to enlist," says Leo automatically. He feels Raph shift behind him.

"And yet that hasn't stopped you from interfering with my plans at every turn. But that ends now."

Draxum crosses his arms behind his back, looking over each of them in turn. Leo doesn't like it at all; it makes him feel like a piece of meat being considered for grilling.

"Each of you will have your use," Draxum continues. "Snapping turtle, you are incredibly strong, both physically and mystically. And I have seen you lead your team. Rough around the edges to be sure, but you will make a fine general.

"Box turtle, you have an unusually high amount of untapped mystical energy. Under my instruction, you will become someone truly formiddable.

"And softshell, you are clearly highly intelligent. A shame you have wasted your talents on the human schools of invention, but rest assured, I can teach you all you need to know.

"And finally, the red-eared slider."

"Don't forget my winning personality and gorgeous smile," Leo quips.

In response, Draxum regards him coolly.

"Compared to your brothers, you are mediocre in every way. Your mystic potential is above average, but much weaker than the rest. You are not nearly so strong or intelligent, and while you have some physical talent, it's outweighed by your insufferable attitude."

It shouldn't sting. It shouldn't. Draxum's just a crummy villain, who cares what he has to say?

Leo chuckles nervously, shuffling back. "Mediocre? No way, I'm the best! Come on, guys, tell 'im."

This is where his brothers should chime in. Donnie should say, "No, he's right." Or Mikey should back Leo up, shouting down Draxum.

None of that happens. Instead, Raph is the one who moves, putting a hand on Leo's shoulder and physically moving him to the back, putting himself bodily between Leo and Draxum.

"None of us are joinin' your army," Raph growls.

"This is not something you have a choice in." Draxum waves a hand. "Now, I will be taking the slider with me."

Abruptly the bottom of the cage under Leo starts to sink, and he yelps, flailing his hands out for his brothers. Donnie and Mikey grab on, trying to hold him, but as the bottom of the cage falls out a strong vine grips his ankle and yanks, pulling him out of their grasp.

"Leo!" they yell after him.

Outside the cage, Leo hangs suspended in vines that grip him by every limb and around the middle. Draxum turns on his heel and walks away, and the vines carry him along after.

He tries to turn back and see his brothers, who are still making a racket, tries to smile reassuringly, but the vines hold him too tightly, and he can't.

"Hey, hey," he says. "If I'm so mediocre, what do you even need me for, huh?"

"Relaaax," says Draxum, with an easygoing tone that Leo doesn't like at all. "I said I had a place for each of you, and I meant it."

The first thing Leo sees as they enter the next room is the Dark Armor, standing fully complete at the top of a dais. The next thing he sees is his dad, trapped inside a similar cage - the moment he sees Leo, he rushes to the bars, slamming at them hard.

It doesn't even make a dent.

"Draxum!" he roars. "You said you would let them go!"

Draxum looks over at Splinter, shrugging.

"I lied."

Leo doesn't have to wonder what kind of deal his father made for their release. That helmet wasn't there before.

"I kept wondering why the Foot Clan was so eager for me to get inside the Dark Armor when before they had been so adamantly against me getting anywhere near it," says Draxum, talking about things Leo frankly couldn't care less about. "And then I realized... there is... a hunger in this armor. It will not awaken to its full strength until it is fed."

He looks back at Leo with a smile. "That's where you come in."

"Oh no, it doesn't want me," says Leo fast. "I'm way too lean! At least fatten me up for a few weeks first."

"It does not want you flesh, fool. It wants your mystic energy."

Leo grimaces. "Well, you just said I'm pretty mediocre in that department, soooo..."

"I said you are weaker than your brothers. But you still have plenty to sate the armor."

"You sure? I mean, maybe you should find someone with more, uh, mystic energy juice."

Draxum pauses, turning to look him in the eyes. "Very well. I suppose I could go get the box turtle-"

Leo swallows hard. "No," he says, voice resolute. "Not him."

"Good. Then we are agreed."

"No!" shouts Splinter, and he sounds so terrified that it shakes Leo. His dad has never sounded like that. "Draxum, please! He is just a child!"

"Again with this objection when it never seemed to matter before," says Draxum, like he's bored. He begins pulling Leo toward the armor.

"Please! Don't do this!" Splinter slams into the bars again, but they don't budge. "Take me instead! Just do not do this to him!"

"Shut up, you doddering old rat," snaps Draxum, and vines wrap around Splinter, silencing him. "I still have my uses for you, too. Don't worry - I can always make you a replacement son."

"No replacing perfection," says Leo, feeling lightheaded and nonsensical, and a vine around his mouth silences him, too.

He's pulled on the dais. Draxum slides each piece of the armor onto his body, one by one. It's too big for him, and he feels like he's being swallowed by some gaping maw, sliding down into the stomach of a fearsome beast.

This is where the rescue is supposed to happen. His brothers are supposed to burst in, having made a daring escape. His dad is supposed to display some heretofore unseen power and kick Draxum's butt. Divine intervention from his ancestors is supposed to shield him, and he should be free to go home, where he can laugh with his family about the whole crazy incident and how he's apparently good for nothing but a blood sacrifice to a demonic spirit.

The rescue doesn't happen. Instead, he watches, eyes wide and full of fear, breathing too fast against his gag, as Draxum smiles gleefully and puts the helmet on.

The pain is indescribable. The vines finally fall away from his mouth, and it doesn't matter because all he can do is scream.

Draxum was right; there's something hungry in the armor. It's eating him alive now, not his flesh but his spirit, ripping the energy right out of his veins, peeling him apart at the seams. It feeds on him, on every part of his flagging mind - even his fear is delicious to it. And when he feels like he has no more he can give, when he's certain that this is the end, when the darkness starts to roll over his consciousness, pulling him down, he hears a voice - one full of hatred and rage and a dark satisfaction.

Thank you, Hamato.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #dandy trick or treat #rise leo #baron draxum #I feel like this is a great backstory for leo being like #their guy in the chair #he's not dead btw like draxum this process didn't kill him but it did suck #get it #cause like #sucking out his mystic energy?#yeah you get it

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pookielious · 15 hours

Text

Band of brothers au where easy company is part of a restaurant chain owned by col. Sink but dick and nixion brought one of the stores and the rest of the company is just employees that work for them

Like lip and speirs are assistant managers and so on so forth

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suzuki-sibs-bar-and-grill · 9 months

Note

"... What did I miss out on, why is there a younger Sunny..?-"

Basil?!

Why do you look like a pirate!?

#suzuki sibs bar and grill #ofa #omori ask blog #au sunny #omori food administration

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suzukiblu · 7 months

Text

Day two NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

"Well, you are the plan guy," Kon says, grinning again and pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "Supreme?"

"Works for me," Tim says. It's meat and dairy and bread and vegetables and Kon is probably invulnerable to heart disease, so he figures that's basically health food to him, right? Especially if he needs more calories than the average guy.

Pizza's sure as shit gonna be more satisfying than a protein bar, if nothing else.

Tim's definitely ordering like, breadsticks or wings or something too. And maybe a two-liter or two. Cinnamon bread. Something. Hell, he'll buy all that and then some if he has to. He's got the money.

Who the hell decided it was okay to let this happen? Really. Is there literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation? Dubbilex was made by Cadmus too and has his own issues with managing to have an out-of-lab life, Rex Leech is apparently out of the picture, which might be a blessing anyway, Tana Moon is equally MIA, and Superman has apparently lost his entire damn mind, so . . .

There's literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation, is there. There's no irresponsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation. As far as Tim knows, every single other one Kon knows is either Cadmus-employed or a supervillain or just completely uninvested in his existence.

Maybe Tim should be talking to Red Tornado about this. Is this something he should be talking to Red Tornado about?

. . . sure, that'd help. Red Tornado is about five minutes back into being a person and has Traya and Kathy and the whole team to worry about, and absolutely could handle something like this while also trying to figure out his own shit and keep an eye on all the rest of them too. Sure. That'd work.

This is a problem, Tim thinks.

This is a definite problem, in fact.

He has no idea what to do about this problem, though, so he just orders a truly inadvisable amount of pizza and wings and double-iced cinnamon bread for pickup. They've done weirder than get takeout in the Super-Cycle and they'll do weirder again. Besides, it could use the . . . exercise, or whatever that counts as. Not like the Super-Cycle has muscles, but it does get tired sometimes and seem to appreciate getting out and–well, whatever. That's just something to figure out later, probably.

Tim really should figure that out, though. And also if the Super-Cycle is gonna be down for going supervillain, because yeah, that's obviously a thing to keep in mind.

He flies it to the pizza joint, and spends the flight casually grilling Kon about his coworkers and employee benefits and the Cadmus security systems. The answers are: a lot of lab-born clones and too many grown-ass adults who have no excuse not to know better, work-related health care and nothing else, and Kon and Guardian, mostly. And also some random weird death traps and a couple of cameras here and there, apparently, but it all sounds incredibly dated to Tim's ears and it really seems like Kon and Guardian are taking on the lion's share of everything more complicated than watching a feed or flipping on an alarm system. Like, it really does.

So that's not great.

"Jesus, man, how much did you order?" Kon snorts with a laugh while Tim's paying the girl at the drive-up window in cash. He doesn't really want to explain this particular expense on the Bat credit card. Generally he doesn't want to explain takeout and junk food on there at all, in fact, though obviously he makes a point of going to Batburger with Steph once a month, just to hear Bruce sigh about it later. Appropriate teenage nonsense and all. He gets the kids' meal and the terrifyingly purple Spoiler shake every time. It tastes like acidic cotton candy. Yes, literally. "Like just the whole menu or what?"

"Of course I did. I've got a Kryptonian to carry it all for me, don't I?" Tim replies with a smirk he doesn't really feel after everything he's learned today. Everything Kon just told him, because he doesn't see what's wrong with any of it.

It reminds him of the abused kids he meets on the job who insist they're fine, and they don't need Batman and Robin to save them.

He wonders if Jason was like that, when Bruce first met him.

He also wonders if he maybe did over-order a little on the pizza, but worst case scenario the leftovers should fit in the fridge.

. . . maybe, anyway. Probably.

Mostly?

Kon immediately cracks into the cinnamon bread on the flight back because he has absolutely no manners whatsoever, and Tim rolls his eyes at him and tries not to visibly brood over the five-alarm fire burning down his brain right now.

He just . . . doesn't understand how Superman is apparently just fine with this situation. He doesn't even understand how Kon is fine with this situation, but is increasingly certain that the answer to that might just be that Kon doesn't think he has another option.

He doesn't have another option, as far as Tim can tell. What would he do, crash at the base and just mooch off everyone else for food and gear and whatever else he needs day-to-day?

Yeah, not exactly a sustainable lifestyle, that.

Not even a little bit of one.

Technically, Tim could just pay for whatever Kon needed, between his allowance and his trust fund and without even taking his Bat-stipend into account, but there is no possible way Kon would ever actually go for that. He's way too proud, and even someone with no pride at all would probably find "please let me pay you to quit your horrible job" a hard pill to swallow from a teammate, much less the leader they only barely recognize the authority of.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young justice #young just us #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby Kon

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typicalopposite · 2 years

Text

Chapter Two - the gift shop (out back)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39419985/chapters/98865126#workskin

#ofmd #ofmd ao3 #our flag means death #biker au #blackbonnet #blackbeards bar and grill #gift shop out back #edward teach #stede bonnet #izzy hands #blackbeards crew #revenge crew

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darkeralmond · 10 months

Text

UR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!

New To Downtown

Trevor Zegras x Reader

synopsis: trevor and you finally go on your first bar hopping date

warnings: fluff, trevor being adorable

word count: 1.2k

a/n: MAKING A PT 2 WAS SO FUN!! this is such a cute au!

masterlist | request info

i. ii.

A week went by before you and Trevor settled on an official date to go out bar hopping. He had been so busy with games, but he was finally free.

After meeting Trevor, your perception of hockey changed. You watched a ton of his highlights and rewatched full games. Now you had a better idea of hockey which is something you could now talk to him about.

As you fixed yourself up in the mirror, you heard your phone buzz. You lunged for it and checked the notification. It was a text from Trevor.

Trevor

Hey! I’m outside

I’ll be down there in a sec

*liked by Trevor*

You stared at yourself again in the mirror, taking a couple deep breaths. You felt your heart race at a rapid speed as you grew a bit anxious.

You sprayed yourself with more perfume and threw on more lip gloss before heading out. You tucked your lip gloss and phone in your pockets. “I’m heading out!” you yelled out to your friend as you left the apartment.

You went down the elevator and walked through the lobby. You saw Trevor’s car parked on the sidewalk next to your building. You opened the passenger door and sat down. “Hi!” Your smile subconsciously grew wide.

“Hey!” He was grinning from ear to ear. He glanced down at your outfit and nodded his head. “You look pretty.”

Butterflies swarmed your stomach as you glanced off. “Thanks,” you answered, growing bashful in his presence. He snickered at your reaction before putting the car into drive.

“You wanna plug into the aux?” he asked, gesturing to the aux cord. You agreed and hooked up to the cord before pulling up your music.

You didn’t know what music he liked or didn’t like. You just knew you had the playlist that reminded you of the meet-cute moment between you two. “What do you want to listen to?”

“Whatever you want,” he said. The sound of his voice as it briefly rasped caused your breath to hitch while blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them rosy red. He glanced over at you then back at the busy road, a chuckle rose out of him.

You decided to pick that exact playlist that reminded you of the coffee shop. One Thing by One Direction instantly started playing through the speakers.

At first you felt a bit embarrassed that he wouldn’t like it, but you looked over at him and watched as his head bobbed to the beat.

He broke into a smile then glanced over at you. “What song is this? It sounds familiar.” That question alone shook you to your core.

You let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “You don’t know One Direction?!”

This won a laugh out of him. “I don’t usually listen to boy bands!” he argued. You laughed at how defensive he was, causing him to roll his eyes. “Whatever.”

Eventually, you made it downtown where he parked on the side of the road and paid through the parking meter. Now you were able to get a good look at what he was wearing as he stepped out of the car.

He wore a backwards black cap with his hair flowing out of it, a beige button up shirt, and black cargo shorts. Basic, but cute!

He turned to you when he was done paying. “Alright, there’s this place right up the street. That’s a good place to start.” You nodded your head and walked with him side by side.

“Did you already eat?” he asked, looking down at you. You looked up and shook your head. Were you supposed to?

He laughed at the worried expression that swept across your features. “Okay, good. I heard this place has really good food.”

A relieved smile slipped on your face as giggles bubbled out of you. “Perfect.” Eventually, you made it up to the bar. It looked more like a brewery due to its large size. “Woah,” you muttered under your breath.

He chuckled again and looked down at you. “Welcome to a downtown Anaheim bar and grill,” he said.

He held the door open for you and as soon as you stepped in. You looked like a little kid who walked into a candy store.

There was a live cover band on the stage performing country songs. There were people all around dancing, drinking, and chatting. There were servers bringing out food to the people who chose to sit down at the bar and booth area. It was so lively.

A waitress walked up to you two and gave Trevor a polite grin. “Hi, welcome in! Booth for two?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor answered. You felt a pang of jealousy in your heart.

She grabbed a couple menus before leading you two to your designated booth. She placed the menus down and clapped her hands together. “The usual?”

“Snake bite,” Trevor instantly responded. Seems like he was a regular here.

“And what would you like?” She looked over at you awaiting your response.

Your mind went blank as you tried to come up with a drink order. “Uh, do you guys have rum and coke?” She smiled and nodded her head. “Then I’ll have that.”

“Okay, I’ll be right out with those.” She went back to the bar area leaving you and Trevor alone again.

“Do you come here often? She instantly knew your order,” you laughed, trying to figure out why she knew his order.

He laughed, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair before putting it back on. “Yeah, the team always comes here after wins. You should’ve seen the place after the overtime win. The drinks kept coming.”

You laughed, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Speaking of drinks coming, the waitress came back and placed the drinks down. “Is there anything you would like to start with?” she asked as she pulled out her pen and pad.

Trevor ordered a dozen boneless buffalo wings for the table and she headed off to the kitchen. The band finished the song, the whole bar clapping. “They’re really good,” Trevor said.

You nodded and looked back at the band as they got ready for their next song. Suddenly, you heard the instrumental to one of your favorite country songs, Play It Again by Luke Bryan.

You gasped, “I love this song!”

Trevor smiled, glancing over at the band then back at you. “You wanna dance?”

Your cheeks instantly flushed red, butterflies swarming in your stomach. A stupid grin slipped on your face while you nodded your head.

He got out of the booth and went over to your side of the table with his hand held out. You took it and he led you out to the dance floor where there were other couples dancing.

He twirled you around before placing his other hand on your wait. You giggled as you snaked your arm around his neck, looking directly in his eyes. The dance floor was really dimly lit. The very little light illuminating his face, making his distinct features even more beautiful.

Trevor’s lips curved into a smile. “I already love spending time with you, I would love to hang out again.”

You giggled, “Is this you asking me out on a second date?”

“Depends,” he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a supposed second date?”

You nodded your head. “Yes,” you answered.

His cheeks dusted a rosy red tiny as he nodded his head. “Then yes,” he said. “I am.”

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras #hockey player x reader #nhl

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buff-muffin · 5 months

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Random little One piece modern AU thoughts and I guess scenes I had about mainly Luffy

1. Luffy is the best guy to take to karaoke. While he isn’t the best singer he’s also not the worst. However he sings with his whole chest and heart and will sing duets with anyone no matter how lovey or metal. His energy always brought everyone out of their shells he just has a bad habit of singing when it’s not his turn

2. I feel like in a modern AU Luffy would still be friends with a lot of the people he met in series just under different conditions. Like water 7 instead of the mayor almost being assassinated he just. Met him. Like on good terms. idk, maybe Luffy saved tyrannosaurus and now they just exchange animals pics and the occasional “hey I’m heading to insert place where should I go to eat” and Luffy just introduces the Baratie with no heads up to Zeff and Sanji and when Sanji spams the group chat freaking out he just says you’re welcome :D

3. Luffy keeps the contacts of everyone he’s met and keep them under their nicknames. Monster granny, hammock, split head ect. It’s the only way he can remember them after all. When nami had gotten nosy and decided to go through his contacts she obviously asked who tf ice pops was. Imagine her surprise when Luffy confidently answers that it’s the mayor from a few towns over.

4. In a modern AU the ASL brothers were totally still bush kids. Like. Dadan’s (probably community house) was right by the woods and they would have a similar childhood to canon with less killing wild animals. But they also a thousand fucking percent had a Nintendo Wii. Like Ace and Sabo fought tooth and NAIL for player one and Luffy was banished to player three with the dingiest controller known to man (not even the safety strap could protect that thing from getting tossed at the tv) And speaking from my own experience as a younger sibling Ace totally spent a whole summer trying to unlock every character in Mario kart.

5. Law met the straw hats in collage at 2 am when they got kicked out of a bar and he was trying to mind his own business. While they saw him in their intoxicated state and said “you’re my friend now :)” Law was genuinely worried half of them had alcohol poisoning. An hour later he found himself in one of their apartments two of them passed out. One of them throwing up. All while he makes a grilled cheese for Luffy, the so called infamous man on campus who is crying sitting on the floor cause he’s starving. Law stayed the night to make sure none of them drowned in their own vomit and like imprinted baby ducks they have not left him alone since.

6. Luffy has been going to riots and movements for years. He started going with Sabo and Ace growing up when they were teenagers and hasn’t stopped. He also never thought to mention it to any of his friends until they saw him on the news at a protest absolutely fucking SENDING a tear gas canister back at the cops

7. I kinda wanna believe while devil fruits don’t exist in modern AU the character still has quirks semi related to their fruit. Like Robin is just, double jointed everywhere and could bend her arms and fingers in all the worst ways. Luffy can either contort his body to hide in tiny places OR he has stretchy skin. It’s nothing more then party tricks but it is cool

8. Luffy was definitely a gymnastics kid. Not in like. The competing sense. But in like the, one of the adults in his life would drop him off there twice a week for an hour. Did he participate with the other children and learn how to roll? NO! He was flinging himself full speed into giant foam mats and climbing rock walls without a harness. He was a menace to society and he was only taken to blow off some energy and it WORKED. Until he was kicked out.

#you bet your ass I have a list of what every OP character mains in mariokart #if there are spelling or grammar mistakes suck my digital dick #no post time skip spoilers please and thank yall #one piece #one piece au #one piece modern au #Luffy favouritism #luffy #monkey d. luffy #asl brothers #trafalgar law #I know little to nothing about that man yet here I am #headcanon #sorta?#rambles

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