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roosterforme · 28 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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bangaveragewhitewine · 8 months

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crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers) - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn.

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips).

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months.

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall.

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation.

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies.

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll.

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig.

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights).

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross.

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air.

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.”

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks.

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks.

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns, “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..”

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.”

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside.

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts.

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips.

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was.

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat.

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick.

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish.

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure.

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter.

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious.

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago.

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving.

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy.

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward.

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain.

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice.

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose.

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on.

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you.

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch.

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control.

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck.

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night.

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall.

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink.

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it.

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes.

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-”

As you take another sip, the door swings open.

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office.

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you.

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by.

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting.

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you.

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too.

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy.

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.”

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare.

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?”

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy.

I want to. What does that mean?

Eddie covers himself quickly.

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.”

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you.

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness.

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.”

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes.

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it.

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task.

“Very gentle,” he murmurs.

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth.

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other.

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards.

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?”

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight.

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass.

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body.

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt.

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much.

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.”

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.”

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught.

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night.

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness).

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself.

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?”

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition.

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise.

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine.

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.”

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.”

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.”

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.”

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad.

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live.

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.”

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline.

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.”

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working.

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.”

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.”

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand.

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?”

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs.

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door.

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks.

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean.

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you.

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie.

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola.

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him.

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip.

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.”

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger.

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.”

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew.

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him.

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes.

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.”

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer.

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too.

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little.

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.”

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink.

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime.

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside.

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently.

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee.

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.”

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.”

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real.

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary.

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out.

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering.

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door.

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door. “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car.

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on.

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place.

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both.

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head.

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone.

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case.

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne.

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.”

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you.

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.”

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.”

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on.

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain.

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting.

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag.

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off.

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.”

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm.

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours.

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning.

His smile makes your tummy flutter.

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening.

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..”

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks.

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful.

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong?

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly.

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary.

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you.

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?”

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive.

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue.

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat.

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too.

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever.

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word.

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder.

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real.

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp.

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too.

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere.

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again.

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth.

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?”

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper.

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.”

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek.

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.”

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did.

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes.

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way.

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms.

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break.

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again).

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement.

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson.

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time...

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door.

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager.

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley…

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car?

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief.

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?”

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself.

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter.

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.”

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip.

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over.

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close.

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car.

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.”

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.”

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt.

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine.

“Well then…” you say quietly.

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes.

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly.

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers.

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along.

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say.

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say.

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.”

“You should be so lucky.”

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss.

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this…

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops.

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8.

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through.

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?”

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat.

“You gonna behave?”

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key.

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass.

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected.

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?”

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath.

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way.

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again.

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on.

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself.

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green.

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter.

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn.

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again.

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?”

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.”

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?”

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing.

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…”

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance.

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there.

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip.

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges.

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap.

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?”

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him.

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips.

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you.

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise.

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat.

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes.

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath.

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one.

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time.

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him.

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more.

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.”

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle.

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace.

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.”

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand.

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..”

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!”

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?”

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts.

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction.

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes.

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…”

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny.

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press.

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak.

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit.

“Fuhhh- Eddie.”

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man.

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping.

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face.

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss.

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge.

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living.

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter.

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow.

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand.

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that.

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs.

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it.

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are.

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you.

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder.

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?”

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full.

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…”

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager.

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs.

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him.

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving.

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside.

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch.

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest.

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet.

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks.

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob.

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze.

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.”

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door.

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer.

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers.

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong.

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod.

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.”

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.”

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months

Text

✧ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐫 || nico hischier ♔

summary: after seeing his captain and his sister together, jack knows they are perfect for each other and makes sure to know nico knows it too.

warnings: reader has a bad day at the end of the fic, my midwest language

notes: i love nico and you guys seem to like when i write him. based on this request -> idea. jack and the reader are twins in this one! i had this idea for a while but when i got this request i had to write it. i think it might be one of my favorites for him but negative feelings is kind of taking the cake. add yourself to the taglist ➵ taglist!

publish date: 02/04/24

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Nico couldn’t stop thinking about her. He knew it was wrong, liking one of his best friend’s/teammates' little sister, but he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to her the first night he met her, the way her eyes lit up when someone mentioned her major, the way she smiled bigger when someone would bring up her brothers, the way she blushed when someone would compliment her outfit.

The first time he met her was in December of her freshman year of college. She had finished her exams a day earlier so she and her parents went to New Jersey to cheer on Jack. She had yet to see one of his games so she was excited when it was finally time for her to see him play professionally. They were playing the Ducks and they ended up winning 3-1 with Jack getting a secondary assist.

The bonus of that game was that Nico caught her eye during warm ups. She had gone down to surprise Jack, waiting by the boards. While she was waiting for her brother to notice her, her eyes were trained onto one of his teammates. She couldn’t help but fall for the way he smiled, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She was (so rudely) interrupted when Jack appeared in front of her banging on the glass with a giddy expression on his face.

Later that night after the game, her, Luke, and their parents were waiting for Jack to finish whatever he was doing. Luke groaned as they waited, “I’m hungry.”

Y/n hit her younger brother in the chest, “You and you’re fucking metabolism.”

“Language y/n.”

“Sorry mom.”

“Yeah, language y/n.” The girl goes to hit him again but is stopped when Jack comes running out, “Y/n!!”

She grunts when Jack’s body collides with her, “I can’t believe you’re here! How’s school going? Any boys?” His eyebrow raises at his last statement but she just rolls her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here though.”

“Me too, Jacky.”

Their moment is interrupted when Jack glances over to see one of his teammates and screams out his name, “Nico!”

The man stops, turning towards him and smiling awkwardly, “Hi.”

Jack pulls away from his sister excitedly, “Guys this is Nico. Nico this is my mom and my dad, my twin sister y/n, and my younger brother Luke.”

Y/n immediately recognizes him from earlier as the one who she couldn’t stop staring at. She didn’t think he could get any cuter until he spoke more and she heard more of his accent, “Nice to meet you all. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes your son is incredibly talented.”

Both Ellen and Jim thank Nico for his kind words before he turns to face the two teenagers. Jack looks between Luke and Nico happily, “Luke plays hockey too. He’ll be in the draft in a couple years.”

Luke gives his older brother a look, “As if.”

“Oh come on, Lukey. You’ll be great. You’re definitely making it in the draft, even will go in the first round.” Luke was always getting praised by his sister, she made it her job to make sure her brothers knew how good they were.

Nico looked at the girl in the eyes, “Do you play too?”

The three siblings burst out laughing as they gave each other looks, “Oh god no. I would fall as soon as I touched my toe on the ice.”

“It’s true. When we were younger she came to one of our games, mom and dad took her on the ice and she couldn’t stay up for the life of her.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, a blush rising to her cheeks, “Yes, we get it. I’m horrible at skating.”

Nico laughed a little and it was like heaven to her ears. The next couple of minutes were silent and awkward, her and Nico making eye contact for the duration. When Nico left, Ellen gave her daughter a look before she just ushered all of them out of the building, Luke still complaining about how hungry he was.

Ever since then, the two of them couldn’t stop thinking about each other. And ever since then, Nico hadn’t been able to hold a long conversation with the girl. He loved the way she blushed when something even remotely embarrassing happened, how she blushed whenever he even said one word to her, he loved everything about her.

Now, she had graduated college and decided to move to New Jersey because of a great job opportunity. Jack was more than ecstatic to have two of his siblings moving in with him, especially his twin sister. She at first refused to move in with the two, not wanting to impose on the next step in Luke’s hockey career but they both argued with her that they wanted to have her there.

She now was able to go to a lot more of their games which meant she saw a lot more of Nico. When she was too tired to stay awake to wait for Jack and Luke, Nico would offer to take her home. She was grateful every time he did, practically falling asleep in his car. He couldn’t help but look over at her constantly as he drove back to the Hughes’ apartment.

One night, she had to wait for Jack and Luke because they were going out to dinner together for her birthday. She had been leaning up against the wall when Nico came out, “Hey.”

“Hi, Nico.” She blushed as she made eye contact with him.

“You need a ride home tonight?” He noticed the way she could barely keep her eyes open as they kept drooping down.

She shook her head, “No, we're going out for my birthday.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, but it’s actually not till the weekend but you guys are going to be gone so they wanted to celebrate tonight. Congrats on the win, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He walked over closer to her, standing next to her. She was tired enough that she ended up laying her head on his shoulder, no longer able to stay upright.

He was surprised by the sudden pressure he felt and turned his gaze towards her. Her eyes were now closed as her arms crossed over her chest, shivering from the cold of the Prudential Center. That was one thing she had never gotten used to. Nico smiled as he watched her, in awe about how much she was comfortable around him.

He hadn’t noticed Jack come out from around the corner, his gaze entirely focused on her. Jack had stopped himself in the middle of the hallway when he noticed his captain and his sister. He was a little dumbfounded at first, not expecting to see them together. He started to become frustrated, but he couldn’t tell who he was more frustrated with, although he knew deep down he would never really be mad at either of them.

The more he stared at them, the more he grew fond of the two together. He watched as Nico took his suit jacket off of his arm and placed it around the girl carefully. He winced when he saw her move off his shoulder, slightly scared that the two would notice him now. However, as she lifted her head she kept her eyes closed, grasping the edges of the jacket, pulling it closer to her, and laying her head back down on Nico’s shoulder.

He smiled as Nico smiled, still looking down at her. Jack knew that Nico was the right guy for her. He knew that if she was too uncomfortable to speak, he would speak for her. If she was having a hard day he knew he would be there for her. He knew that he would do anything for her. And in that moment, he knew that they were perfect for each other.

As soon as he finished that thought, Luke came walking up behind him looking at his phone. He bumped into him and stumbled a little, surprised by the sudden impact. He looked at his brother confused, “Sorry, dude. What the fuck are you doing just standing in the middle of the hallway?”

Jack hissed at how loud his younger brother’s voice was and grimaced when he saw y/n and Nico jump from their positions leaning against each other. Y/n’s eyes were wide as she saw her brothers standing there, she was nervous about how or if they would react to what they just saw. Nico on the other hand felt guilty. He knew he shouldn’t be falling in love with her, he knew he shouldn’t be catching feelings for his teammates' sister, his best friend’s sister.

He cleared his throat and y/n looked at him, “Oh yeah. Thanks, Nico, here’s your jacket.”

He held his hand up as a form of goodbye before walking away. She was looking at the ground and Luke and Jack were exchanging looks with each other. Luke was giving his brother a look saying that they should do something about it, saying that they had to talk to her. Jack was giving him a look saying that it was okay, not to bother it right now, it was something for a later time.

The two walked over to her, placed their arms around her, and walked out to their car, “Who is ready to celebrate their birthday?”

✧༺✎༻∞

The next day the team was at practice, and Nico was completely unfocused the whole time. He was anxious about whether or not Jack or Luke would talk to him about what they saw last night. He skated away from the two Hughes’ every chance he got. At one point, he had to actually dodge Luke from coming at him.

When they were in the locker room, Jack had walked up to him desperately wanting to talk to him. When he felt the tap on his shoulder, he turned around and looked at him with wide eyes, “Hey Jack.”

“We need to talk.”

He nodded, worry once again making its presence known, “Listen I know I should’ve told you about how I felt about y/n. And I know I shouldn’t even have these feelings as it is because she’s your sister and I know that you won’t-”

“Hey. That’s not what I was going to say at all. I was going to tell you that I’m okay with you two dating. I actually think you would be great for her.”

Nico was taken aback by his friend’s answer. He wasn’t telling him to date his sister, right? There was no way. Jack noticed the look on his captain’s face and smiled, “I know it’s weird that I'm telling you to date my sister, but I know you will treat her right, Nico. I trust you.”

Nico nodded, “I mean, we might be getting way over our heads, right? I mean, she might not even like me like that.”

The younger boy shook his head, “She does. I haven’t seen her that comfortable around someone in a while. Trust me, she likes you.”

With the assurance from Jack that it was okay and his newfound confidence, Nico knew he had to ask her out, and he knew it had to be perfect. So he took every piece of knowledge he knew about her, the fact that she doesn’t like grand gestures, what her favorite restaurant is, what her favorite thing to do is, and compiled them into a date.

When they get back from their road trip, y/n comes to the first game she can. During that game, both Jack and Nico got a goal, and Nico’s being assisted by her brothers. They won the game and as usual, the boys wanted to go out and celebrate. However, it had been a long day for the girl, she had been screamed at during work for doing something that she didn’t even do, she then ripped her favorite shirt due to a small thread getting caught on her desk drawer.

If things couldn’t get worse, she had forgotten her lunch at the apartment, causing her not to eat for a large amount of time, only being able to snack on a couple of things here and not wanting to spend an outrageous amount of money on food at Prudential. On her way there she had almost gotten into an accident which was her final straw. She had just wanted to sit down and watch her brothers, and Nico, play so she could go home.

As always, she waited for them as she stared at the wall across from her. Today, Luke was the first one out, standing next to her as she buried her head into his chest, oh so close to crying. It wasn’t until Jack came out and placed a hand on her back that she started crying. Jack pulled his twin in for a hug, consoling her as best as he could, “What’s wrong, y/n/n?”

“I’ve had a really shitty day.”

Jack frowned, defeated, knowing there was nothing he could really do about it. Yet when he saw Nico walk out he ushered him over, motioning to him that if he was going to do something he should do it now. Nico looked at him with crazed eyes as he mouthed, “Now?!”

He nodded and pulled his sister away from his body, “Hey, we’re gonna go hang out with the team and I’m sure you wanna go home, is it okay if Nico takes you home?”

It was like her brain switched on when Jack mentioned Nico. She stood up straight and quickly wiped the tears off her face, dirtying her sweatshirt sleeve. Nico gave him a look but he just winked. Y/n nodded her head, waving goodbye to her brothers. They both kissed her head before walking away and the two could hear them bickering about something on their way out.

Nico and y/n stood there awkwardly before Nico motioned her to start walking, “After you.”

She started walking, throwing her hands into her sweatshirt pockets, “You didn’t want to go out?”

“Nah, I’m kind of tired right now.”

She gave him a nod of sympathy, understanding exactly where he was coming from. Nico looked at her a little worried, some of the tears were still on her face, having dried up, “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah. It was just a crappy day.”

“Can I ask what happened?” He opened the car door for her and allowed her to jump in.

She waited until he got into the car and turned the heat on before she answered, “It was just a bunch of little things that happened. If they had happened on separate days it wouldn’t have been as bad.”

They sat in silence again and almost up until they reached the Hughes’ apartment. When they were about two minutes away, Nico looked at her suddenly becoming anxious. If he was to do it, he should do it now.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Mhm, go for it.”

“Do you want to go on a date?”

If she was the one driving right now she would’ve slammed on the brakes and whipped her head towards him, but she wasn’t. So instead her eyes snapped open and she fiddled with her fingers. Nico grew even more anxious at the silence coming from the girl, wondering if Jack was right about his sister’s feelings for him.

She didn’t talk until he pulled into the parking lot, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re you and- and I don’t know. I just really want to, I really want to take you out on a date.”

“Where?”

“To your favorite restaurant. And then I want to take you to Barnes and Noble and let you pick out your favorite books so I can buy them for you. And then we can go walk around and look around at the lights. And then I’ll take you to your favorite bakery so we can get a muffin for you on your way home.”

Y/n looked at him in awe, not expecting him to know all of these things about her, “How do you know that?”

“How do I know what?”

“What my favorite things are?”

“Because I know you, y/n Hughes. You are the girl who comes and supports her brothers every chance she gets, you’re the girl who smiles politely at someone even if you don’t like them, you’re the girl who blushes at everything remotely embarrassing, you’re the girl who lights up when you talk about your job, you’re the girl who brings a book to a fucking hockey game so you can read at intermission, you’re the girl I’ve liked since December 18, 2019.”

“You remember the day I met you?”

“No, I remember the day I fell in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, that seemed a bit much… I’m sorry.”

She shook her fearlessly, “I’m in love with you too, Neeks.”

“So does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned in to kiss her and she immediately reciprocated.

Meanwhile, Jack and Luke were on their way to get dinner, arguing about how Jack would let y/n date Nico, “I mean what if they break up, Jack! It’s gonna be so fucking awkward!”

Jack shook his head, “They won’t break up.”

Luke raised an eyebrow and turned to face his brother directly, “And how do you know that?”

“Because he’s perfect for her.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #nico hischier #nh13 #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x hughes!reader

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girlbossblackbeard · 8 months

Text

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 predictions #ofmd s2 trailer

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generalllimaginesss · 5 months

Note

How many pick up lines will it take to get you to go out with me?" jack trying to get the reader to go out with him by asking her a million pick up lines

Jacky boy!! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it!!

••

The world knows Jack Hughes as good with the ladies. How couldn't he be? He was one of the best looking up-and-coming players in the league, but you knew him as the family friend that was hopelessly in love with you, though the feelings were not quite as mutual.

Jack and your older brother were teammates from the very beginning, finding a close friendship while being on the same team as him, the very first team they were on actually. Throughout the years they may have gone different directions, but they always found time to spend together.

Jack had found his way to your family's house during his break for the holidays, where you happened to be while on break from school. Your brother and parents were out doing something, deciding that it was a good idea to leave Jack home alone with you since you would never entertain anything with Jack.

As you watched Christmas Vacation, snuggled into the recliner, Jack scrolled through his phone, sitting across the room on the couch. You were able to get about 20 minutes into the movie without any interruptions, but Jack decided it would be a good idea to ruin that.

"Hey, Y/N...can you take a look at my phone? I think something is wrong with it. I can't seem to find your number..." He cheekily smiled at you.

"Jack, you dumbass...you've had my number since we were in middle school," You groaned, rolling your eyes as you directed your focus back on the tv. Everybody knew Jack was head-over-heels in love with you. Your parents didn't worry about the two of you home alone, though, because they knew you found him incredibly annoying.

He chuckled, reading something on his phone and once again interrupting your movie.

"Hey, Y/N...do you have a pen?" He could barely talk without laughing.

"Why do you need a pen?" You looked at him, annoyed displayed clearly on your face as your eyebrows furrowed.

"So I can write out our future together..." He giggled as he said it, but it made you want to throw up.

You snorted, "Trust me, there's no ink required for that because you have no future with me."

Jack began to bite his pinky nail, a grin spreading as he continued to read the list of pickup lines he had saved on his phone, "Do you have a sunburn, or are you always this hot?"

His eyes immediately darted towards you, mischief glinting from them as he waited for your response.

"It's the middle of December in Michigan...do I look like I have a sunburn?" You didn't even bother to look at him at this point, unimpressed with his attempts to charm you.

"I think I need to call the police...it's illegal to look as good as you," He couldn't keep his composure at that one, snickering as he watched you roll your eyes and throw your water bottle at him. He caught it with ease to your disappointment. You were aiming at his face.

"If anybody calls the police it's going to be me because you're annoying as fuck and will not quit harassing me," You turned the tv off, there was no point in trying to watch it when he wouldn't shut up.

"Oh yeah, I meant to ask earlier, but do you like my shirt?" He looked down at it and looked back up at you.

You made eye contact with him as you looked at his shirt, realizing it was just another t-shirt, "I guess...there's nothing special about it, though."

"Oh, you didn't notice? It's made out of boyfriend material," His smile only grew wider after each pickup line.

"God, you're such a loser," You groaned as you turned your attention to your phone.

"Come on," He whined, "...how many pick pick up lines will it take for you to go out with me?"

Chortling, you locked eyes with him as you got up from your spot in the recliner, "I would not be caught dead on a date with you."

He groaned, defeated, but only for now. He'd break you eventually, he was sure of it.

You were going to head to your room, but the sound of your brother walking in from the garage caught your attention. He was bringing some groceries in when you confronted him.

"If you don't get your friend, you might not have one anymore," You threatened.

He sighed, "Jack, stop hitting on my sister!"

A laugh erupted from the living room, followed by Jack meeting the two of you by the door.

"I make no promises," He smirked, helping bring in the rest of the groceries.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jh86

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months

Text

Declaration of Independence || LS2

Pairing: ex!Lando Norris x Piastri!Reader, Logan Sargeant x Piastri!Reader, Lando Norris x Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: When you find your boyfriend in the arms of his ex-team mate you realise all the rumours were true. With nothing keeping you in Monaco you head to your twin brother’s place in London before planning to return home to Australia. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, sexual themes, angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol WC: 8k

The phone rang for so long you thought it was going to go to voicemail but your younger brother must have caught it on the last ring. He could hardly talk as he panted from whatever exercise his personal trainer was putting him through and you stiffened your trembling lip, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Jacky?”

You could almost see his forehead crumpling in confusion as the seconds ticked by before he answered. “What's wrong?”

“Shit,” you whispered as his protective tone triggered fresh tears and you heard him excuse himself from the gym citing ‘something’s wrong with my sister’. If only he knew how true that was. “I, um, need a favour.”

“Of course, whatever you need,” he answered instantly as a door banged shut at his end of the line.

Overhead you heard the last call for the flight out of Nice you had bought a last minute ticket for and you shoved your phone between your ear and shoulder so you could fish your passport and boarding pass from your handbag. “Can I crash on your couch for a few days? Just until I can organise a flight home?”

“Home…what do you mean home?” Oscar asked, a moment before the request for a facetime popped up. His red and sweaty face filled your screen and you were sure yours looked similar from all the crying you had done on the drive from Monaco. “Are you at the airport? Where’s Lando?”

You shook your head as you tried to think of the words but they failed to emerge as you walked through the bridge to the plane that was waiting for you. “I…can I stay? Please.”

Worry filled his face but he nodded. Of course you could stay with him, you never had to ask, you were family. “I have a meeting with Zac soon but send me your flight number and I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can get a taxi.”

“No way. If it wasn’t Zac I promise I would be there, sis.”

“I know,” you sniffled, seeing you were at the plane door. “I’ve gotta go but thank you.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Oscar said softly, pity in his eyes. “Love you.”

“You too, Jacky.”

At first glance you thought maybe Oscar had forgotten to organise a ride for you. Dozens of suited chauffeurs held little signs up with names but none of them were yours and you started to make your way in the other direction only to find a familiar face.

“Hey,” Logan greeted with a smile, tugging the cord of your hoodie you were hiding under. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a suit and a whiteboard.”

You stepped into his open arms with a small chuckle that lacked its usual energy. “I suppose I can forgive you. I’m sorry you were roped into this. Isn’t this way below your pay grade?”

“Wait, I could get paid for this?”

You stepped back with a laugh and patted your pockets. “I only have a couple of euros on me, so you are out of luck there.”

He started to laugh before looking around you and saw you had no luggage with you. “I thought you were coming to stay with Oscar?”

“I, um, left in a hurry,” you said as your chest tightened again and you looked at the floor. The thought of returning to the bedroom and packing a bag had your stomach turning. “I’ll get some clothes later today.”

You could still see them, their bodies writhing between the sheets you had slept in only hours earlier. You had been hurt, finding Lando in the arms of another, but the real shock had been when he pulled away at your gasp and you saw Carlos’ dark head of hair on your pillow. The man you had welcomed as a friend into your home, the man you had been on double dates with countless times, was fucking your boyfriend - or being fucked by - you couldn’t quite tell from where you stood frozen in the doorway.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Logan said quietly, tucking you into his side as he saw your waterline begin to fill in the silence. The tears slowly leaked down your cheeks as he guided you out of the terminal and to his car, belting you in when you couldn’t move for fear you would fall apart. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t,” you admitted as you shook your head and pulled your hoodie back now that you were behind tinted glass. You had learned quickly just how many people followed and photographed F1 drivers and didn’t want to find yourself on the gossip pages again just yet, or ever.

He sighed but gave you a nod before turning the engine on. “Well, when you are ready, I’m here.”

“No, Lo, I can’t tell anyone, ever. I signed an NDA.”

“Seriously?” He put the car back in neutral and pulled the handbrake as he swivelled in his chair to face you as you confirmed it with a short nod. “What the fuck. Does Oscar know?”

“Not yet. It’s…complicated.”

Logan bit his lip as he fought the urge to ask more questions but he had known you long enough to know you wouldn’t be pressed on a matter. You were blunt that way, just like your brother - so he pushed the matter from his mind and started the journey to the city where Oscar shared an apartment with Lily.

“If it gets cramped, you can always hang out at my place. I won’t be there much in the day and I know Lily is studying for her exams at the moment. Oscar’s been whining that he hardly sees her face; it's always buried in a textbook.”

“It’s only for a few days, until I can find a flight home,” you said with a shrug. You didn’t exactly want to return to Australia but there weren’t any other immediate plans that came to mind. Oscar worked with Lando, so hanging out with him in the garage like you used to gave you as much excitement as getting your fingernails ripped off.

Logan’s lips turned down at the news as he pulled up to the modern apartment block Oscar had moved into when he settled in the city. “Have my address, just in case - or you can call and I’ll pick you up.”

You grabbed your phone from your handbag and sighed when you found the battery dead. “Shit.”

A click had you look up as Logan grabbed your hand and you wriggled at the ticklish feel of his pen inking your skin. “Problem solved,” he smiled as he clicked the pen shut.

“Old school,” you teased as you twisted your hand to read the address in a suburb not too far from Oscar’s. “Thank you, Lo.”

His eyes softened as you leaned across the console and kissed his cheek before getting out of the car. “Anytime. Seriously, I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know.” You walked around to his window that he had wound down and rested your hands on the trim. “I’m glad Jacky has a friend like you.”

“I didn’t do this for him. Technically you were my friend first.”

You smiled at the memory, how Oscar had called you a traitor for hanging out with his ‘enemy’ back in F3 only for the two to end up becoming close friends after their fight for the championship. “Friends huh? I hope you didn’t kiss him too,” you joked before the image resurfaced of Lando and Carlos kissing in your bed and you pushed away from the car, missing the way his eyes lingered on your lips. “Uh, I should go. Thanks again, Logan.”

You berated yourself the entire way to the one bedroom apartment on the top floor. It was a silly joke. You shouldn’t have even brought up the kiss, it wasn’t something you had really thought about in the last two years - when you were happy with Lando. It had just been a summer thing that happened after he moved to F2 but nothing had come of it.

If you were honest with yourself you would admit you ran away. You had caught feelings for Oscar’s friend and ran the moment you realised it. Incidentally, it led you straight to Lando. And look how that turned out.

“Hey, you’re here! Sorry, I just need to run to the library but make yourself at home!” Lily greeted in a rush as she opened the door, tangling her arms in her coat as she tried to hug you at the same time. “Oscar shouldn’t be too far away. He’s picking up Thai for dinner too, so text him what you want. See you soon.”

Your goodbye drifted down the stairs with Lily and you closed the door to see the kitchen table was strewn with textbooks and it overflowed into the living room. You could hardly see the coffee table under the stack of books for her Masters but you moved some that were on the couch aside and settled in with a sigh.

Lando rushed off the bed, pulling the sheet loosely around his body but it bared Carlos completely and you stepped back at the fast approach. You couldn’t stop staring, a thousand questions running through your mind but there was only one that seemed to be repeating.

“Why?” You should have known at that point how little the physical relationship had meant to you because it wasn’t the fact he had cheated on you that hurt the most. It was the fact he never told you the truth - you were meant to be friends first and foremost - he could have come out to you and you would have accepted him as he was. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

Lando’s hands entwined with the sheets, nervously twisting in the material as he hung his head. “No one is allowed to know.”

Your eyes darted to Carlos as he pulled his boxers up and stepped up to Lando’s side, a large hand low on his back, supportingly. “No one can know. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening!” Your breaths came too quick, the room starting to sway until Lando caught you and guided you out of the room to the couch. His voice murmured apologies quietly with each step but it felt like you were listening from beneath the surface of turbulent waters.

“-both our careers.”

You blinked twice as the sound began to clear and you focused on Lando’s lips still swollen from Carlos’ kisses. “If anyone finds out then they will void our contracts.”

“So you were just using me? And Isabella?”

Carlos looked away at the mention of his ex-girlfriend and you wondered if she had been through this very same situation, or if she were blissfully unaware after their breakup. Had she been sat in front of the two of them, Carlos sitting closer and Lando the one on the other single seater couch observing quietly.

“No, fuck, no, it wasn’t like that,” Lando assured as he squeezed your hand. “I love you.”

You saw the hesitancy in his eyes that were frightened and sad, and everything else all at once. “But…you love him too.” You could do the maths and remembered the rumours that had been swirling since he joined McLaren. He had loved Carlos before he ever even met you. “I wish you told me, before I loved you too. I’m, uh, I’m just going to go now.”

“Wait, you can’t go,” Lando panicked as he gripped your hand tighter. “No one can find out.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Lan, it’s not my place, but you could have trusted me. I would have been happy for you,” you whispered as you wiped your eyes, “but now I’m just hurt and embarrassed.”

You started to pull away from Lando’s hands but he sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Carlos shifted forward, ready to reach for Lando before your hard eyes cut to him and he froze. “I’m sorry,” Lando murmured reluctantly. “I know you wouldn’t say anything, and I know I’m an asshole to ask, but…”

You swallowed as you waited for the next punch to come but Lando shook his head as if it physically hurt to speak.

“We need you to sign some papers,” Carlos finished for him. “A non-disclosure agreement.”

A bitter laugh choked from your lungs. “You guys really had this all planned out didn’t you. And if I say no?” True panic widened Lando’s eyes and his chest filled with a shaky intake of air, making you feel guilty for even asking. With a resigned sigh you dropped your head in your hands and muttered, “I’ll sign whatever you need, then I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“What do you want from me, Lan?” you asked, tugging your hair in exasperation. “What do you want me to do? Join your harem? Be your housekeeper? What!”

“I…I just don’t want to be alone again,” he whispered, a look of longing cast back to Carlos who flinched.

You stood up, watching him shrink back as you rose over him. “I’m not going to be your bed warmer because the person you actually want isn’t available full time. Now hurry up and get me the papers to sign while I pack.” You started to make your way to the bedroom before changing your mind and going to the home office where the computer and printer was along with Lando’s sim racer. “Actually, I’ll just start completely afresh, you can donate everything. Or bin it, I don’t really care.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. You did care. You were just too stubborn to let it show.

Dropping into the office chair, you opened your phone while you waited for the NDA knowing it wouldn’t be long since they were already prepared - like they had run through the scenario before. Tiktok seemed like a good way to waste some time until the second video was a CarLando edit and you nearly broke the screen as you slammed the phone down on the desk.

“You ok?” Lando asked as he popped his head in the room at the bang.

Spinning away from his sad blue eyes you dropped your head on the desk with a thud. “Don’t ever ask me that stupid question again.” He started to leave the room but he stopped at the choked sound that came from your throat. “You know, I would have been an ally - if you had just told me.”

“An ally?” he echoed as Carlos joined him in the doorway.

“But now…”

“You are an enemy?” Carlos asked, his tongue running across his teeth until Lando elbowed him.

“No, not an enemy, don’t put words in my mouth. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you like losing your jobs, I just can’t be happy for you either - not at my own expense.”

A bounce jolted you awake and your hand lashed out, slapping your brother’s arm where he had flopped down on the couch beside you. “Asshat.”

Oscar grinned but it faded quickly as he turned serious and took in your appearance - just what you needed with an already damaged self-esteem. “You okay?”

“Been better.”

“Want to send him a bag of dicks?”

“He’d probably like that,” you said with a snort before shaking your head. “No, I honestly just need something to take my mind off him.”

Oscar smiled sadly. “I would offer to go out tonight but Kim would probably kill me if I missed training in the morning, or god forbid the flight. How about we go and get absolutely trashed on Sunday after the race? You are still coming, right?”

You had debated avoiding the race entirely but when Oscar did the worst pair of sad puppy eyes you held your hand out and shook on it. “Deal. Now what’s for dinner?”

“I got a bit of everything since you didn’t text me what you wanted.”

“Phone’s dead, can I use your charger?”

“Yeah, it’s next to the bed,” he said as he jutted his head to the bedroom before pulling himself up with a groan and complaining about his ageing body.

“Shut up, I’m older than you are.”

“You were only born eight minutes before me,” Oscar complained as he led the way to the breakfast bar - the only space large enough to seat three people for dinner.

“As someone whose races come down to one thousandth of a second I think you of all people would understand eight minutes is quite substantial.”

“She’s got a point,” Lily said with a giggle as she set the plates.

“No she doesn’t, whose side are you on?”

“Oh, Jacky-boy, it was the first race of your life and I won. Lah-hoo-zah-her.”

Something warm and wet hit your face and you narrowed your eyes at Oscar as he picked up another string of pad thai. “Say that again?”

Lily sighed as your lips parted and you matched his smirk, knowing it was going to cause carnage but at least it was familiar territory and a good distraction. “Loser.”

Lily and Oscar had gone to bed hours ago but you couldn’t sleep. The sound of the city was louder than what you were used to and the couch wasn’t as comfortable when you weren’t completely exhausted.

Tossing the blanket back, you went to the bathroom and grimaced at your reflection. Dark circles hung under your puffy eyes and you were grateful that you had done some shopping after dinner. After making yourself a little more decent with a layer of makeup and some warm clothes you decided to take a walk to clear your head.

The streets only grew busier the further you walked from the nice neighbourhood and you found yourself in front of a pub that was overflowing with people despite it being so early in the week. You really shouldn’t have listened to the little voice in your head but you couldn’t argue that it had been one hell of a day so you agreed to treat yourself and stepped inside.

Logan woke to a loud knock at his door and rubbed his eyes until the blurry clock beside his bed came into focus. Stumbling from the bed with his phone in hand, he padded his way downstairs and wondered who could be showing up at 2am until he saw you swaying in the peephole. Ripping the door open he didn’t realise you were using it to balance and caught you as you fell into him.

“Hey handsome,” you slurred with a grin as you checked out his shirtless body, feeling the hard muscles across his torso, before turning to wave back to the cabbie parked on his driveway. “Told you he was real!”

“Go inside, sweetheart, I’ll be back in a minute.” Logan settled you back on your feet and kissed your forehead before stepping out of his townhouse, sauntering his way to the black cab who still had his window down waiting.

“Are you her brother?”

“No, Oscar’s a friend, so is she,” Logan assured the driver as he held out his iPhone to pay the fare. “Where did you pick her up from?”

“The Lion’s Head. She kept asking me to take her to her brother’s flat but had no phone or address. Found this one written on her hand though, lucky for her.”

“Yeah, lucky,” he sighed before patting the door panel and stepping. “Thanks for getting her here safely, you have a good night.”

By the time Logan had locked the door again you were passed out on his couch, your head hanging at an odd angle that couldn’t be comfortable. Scooping you up into his arms, he carried you up to his room, muttering under his breath as he walked, “What the fuck did you do, Lando?”

You woke up in a peaceful haze with a warm arm curled around your waist and soft snores on your neck. You didn’t open your eyes, not wanting to take away from this moment as your mind found itself back in your body and not in the nightmare you had been trapped in.

“I had the worst dream, baby,” you whispered as you snuggled into the warmth of his chest against your back and felt him wake with a yawn.

“Y/N?”

You froze at the voice in your ear, your eyes being blinded by the morning light as they flew open. “Logan,” you squeaked as you shot upright and twisted to see him on his pillow, the sunlight making him look like a golden greek god. “What the..?”

Your eyes drifted down his bare chest before you caught yourself and fixed them on his blue eyes instead, the shade thankfully far brighter than the pair that had haunted your dreams. “Um, Logan, you’re naked…” you lifted the sheet you had wrapped yourself in and exhaled in relief, “and I am not. Okay. That’s good, I guess.”

“I’m not naked,” Logan clarified as he held his hands up. “You showed up last night really wasted and crashed on my couch.”

You looked around the light modern room with a quirked eyebrow. “This isn’t the couch.”

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he said as he dropped his hands and laced his fingers over his abs and fiddled nervously, drawing your attention back to them before you could stop yourself. “You didn’t look comfortable so I carried you to bed but you woke up crying and…”

Your chest tightened as he trailed off and looked out the window to his small backyard. “And what, Logan?”

“You said you didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed alright? Nothing happened, okay, I just…I couldn’t leave you like that.” He bit his lip as he turned to see your reaction, wondering if he had overstepped without meaning to, but you were already launching yourself across the bed and into his chest.

“Thank you, Lo,” you whispered against his skin as you buried your head in his neck while his arms found their way around you.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he mumbled. “I had to call Osc to let him know where you were.”

“Ugh,” you huffed as you pulled away from him and looked for your phone before remembering it was still charging in Oscar’s bedroom. Your eyes landed on the bedside drawers and found your cash, rings, watch and half a dozen pretzels but it was the clock that blinked angrily at you. “Shit, I’m going to miss the plane!” You scrambled to get out of bed.

“Relax. It’s all sorted,” Logan said with a laugh as he helped untangle your legs from the sheets. “You’re flying with me this afternoon.”

You froze as you found your bodies close and you felt the ghost of his touch where he had held you tenderly and let you fall asleep in his arms. “Logan…”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and shook his head, but he didn’t move away.

“Like what?”

“Like you used to.”

‘Fuck, okay I deserved that,’ you thought as he pulled away and walked into his wardrobe. He stepped out a moment later in a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, but his chest remained bare like he was purposefully trying to taunt you with the sight. Flopping back into the pillows, you pulled his one over your face and silently screamed as you assaulted your younger self for the decisions you had made.

“Want waffles?”

You refrained from smothering yourself completely and peeked over the top of the pillow that was saturated in his scent. “Store bought or homemade?”

The incredulous look he gave you had you tossing the pillow aside and rising from the bed. You didn’t know how he did it but Logan made the best waffles and despite being a good cook yourself, you could never replicate it.

Strolling down the hall with him, you looked across and waved a hand over his body. “So do you own a shirt in this mansion?”

He smirked and shook his head. “Nope, not a single one.”

“If you take me shopping after breakfast I promise to buy you one.”

He pulled a stool out at the kitchen island and pointed you towards it while he went to the pantry and gathered the ingredients. “Didn’t you just go shopping yesterday?”

“That was so yesterday, Lolo,” you drawled as his lips curled up and his chest bounced with a laugh. “I only got some warm clothes because London can’t seem to make up its mind whether it's in a heat wave or a storm. I can’t wear this in Singapore.”

“You’ll absolutely cook,” he agreed. “The humidity is meant to be insane.”

“It is. We usually stopover there on the way home.”

You watched Logan mix all the ingredients and heat up the waffle iron before he put the first batch in and leant against the counter opposite you, resting his elbows on the bench and chin on his hands. “Where are you going to hang out in Singapore?”

You knew he didn’t mean the tourist attractions and shrugged, really not wanting to think about that just yet. “Jacky wants me there so I’m going, but beyond that I don’t know. Lando’s taking care of the ‘announcement’ but I don’t know when that will be posted.”

“I didn’t realise he was such an asshole.”

You opened your mouth but you weren’t sure if you were going to condemn him or defend him so you closed it again.

You had spent hours combing over your relationship with Lando when you couldn’t sleep and realised you weren’t actually as angry about the breakup as you felt you should have been. Maybe that was a sign it was never really that serious, or that the attraction to Lando was simple in that he was good looking and you had built a strong friendship with him. Maybe that was all there was and you misread it all.

He had still used you, and that hurt like hell. That was real.

“You’re always welcome at my garage, no orange though.”

Your lips twitched as you shook your head in amusement. “Papaya, but thanks, I might take you up on that - if you can save my waffle from burning.”

“Shit!” Logan nearly burnt himself rushing to get the waffle out but with a hefty drenching in maple syrup you could hardly taste the extra crispy parts.

y/npiastri

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y/npiastri: @/oscarpiastri when can you get one of these?

oscarpiastri: I already have one Logan and that’s enough

y/npiastri: I meant the private plane egg

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SINGAPORE

Your phone started to vibrate with notifications as soon as you turned it on after touching down at Changi Airport and you could feel a headache beginning to grow until it felt the size of a certain British race driver. One that wasn’t Lewis or George.

Though you were expecting to see him after reading through the litany of text messages you had missed, it was still a shock to find Lando in the airport terminal.

“Hey man, thanks for giving her a lift,” Lando said with a stiff nod to Logan as he draped an arm over your shoulder and whispered, “I didn’t want to do this, I’m sorry.”

All around, you could see fans taking photos and found Lando’s forced smile waiting for you to respond. Your eyes darted to Logan but he wasn’t helping matters with the glare he was sending Lando so you gritted your teeth and wrapped your free arm around Lando’s waist.

“I’m not doing this again in Japan,” you whispered back as you waved to a few of the fans. “I don’t care what your PR team says. I’m done.”

You didn’t know where Lando slept, and didn’t care enough to ask as you closed the hotel door in his face. It was one thing to pretend to still be in a relationship in public but it didn’t extend beyond that. He was already asking too much of you.

The peace and quiet didn’t last very long before a persistent knock drummed on your door. “I know you’re in there,” Oscar called out. “Open up before I tell everyone about Bobo-”

You were not amused as you unlocked the door and found the hall empty except for him and the bag of food he held. “Keep my teddy’s name out of your mouth,” you growled as you swiped the bag from him. “Lau Pa Sat?”

“Of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t travelled across the city to go to your favourite hawker stand.

“Thank you. I guess you can come in.”

He chuckled as you made space in the doorway and closed the door behind him. His laugh soon died and he quirked an eyebrow as he passed the trash can and saw the McLaren merch that you had found in the wardrobe. “I’ll try not to be too offended.”

“You’ll get over it.” You took a seat on the couch and opened the containers, spreading the range of dishes across the coffee table as the mouthwatering scent filled the room. “Want some?”

“Race diet,” he reminded you with a shake of his head and a longing look at the food.

“Good, I don’t share well.”

“At least you can have the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.”

You already had a mouthful of chicken rice and nearly choked on it before swallowing. “Leftovers? Yeah, right. I’m not on a race diet, this isn’t lasting the night.”

Dropping into the seat beside you, Oscar grabbed the tv remote and went straight to the movie channels. After finally deciding on the new Spiderman he settled into the cushions, ignoring the knock on the door, muttering, “Don’t answer him.”

From Logan: open up, I can smell food.

“It’s not Lando,” you said as you tossed the phone to Oscar who went and opened the door before taking his seat again.

“Expecting anyone else?” Logan asked as he saw all the food spread out.

“She’s eating her feelings,” Oscar stated, ducking on reflex as he expected to get a punch on the arm. There was a satisfied smirk on your face when his face disappeared under a well aimed pillow and you blew a kiss to Logan as a thank you.

“Do you want some?” you offered the American a dumpling with your chopsticks.

He leaned closer and looked at the tasty morsel inquisitively. “What’s in it?”

“Don’t ask, mate.” Oscar tucked the pillow behind his head and turned the volume up. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I didn’t come to see you,” Logan said as he dropped a package on your lap before he took a bite of the dumpling, the liquid inside exploding in a mess down your top. “Fuck, sorry.” He reached for the napkins on the table but his shaking hand knocked your drink over and Oscar sat back watching the chaos with a nostalgic feeling as Logan swore again. “Fuck.”

It reminded Oscar of being Logan’s teammate at Prema, back when things were simpler and the three of you would always hang out. Logan was always clumsy around you and it looked like it was something he would never grow out of.

“Is this your present?” you asked as you finally stopped laughing at Logan and picked up the package. “Why aren’t you wearing it? It was a gift.”

Oscar’s interest was piqued and he swiped it from your hands. You had promised to buy Logan a shirt, you didn’t say it was going to be a fashionable one. Opening the bag, Oscar pulled the green shirt out and held it up to read the front before turning it around, cackling loudly.

Got a problem with me? Talk to Mike Krack.

“I am not wearing that,” Logan laughed as Oscar balled it up and tossed it at his head.

“If you won’t, I will,” you dared as you went to reach for it.

“No way,” Logan teased, pulling it out of your reach as you tried to clamber over him to get it. “It's my gift and I’m keeping it.”

“Careful not to hurt him again, sis,” Oscar warned jokingly.

Logan winced at the reminder of the one time your leg had slipped in a similar situation and your knee had met a certain body part he was quite attached to.

“That was an accident!” you huffed as you sat back in your seat and grabbed a dish of Singapore noodles. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to call before her exam?”

Oscar checked his phone and saw the time and jumped up from the couch. “Shit! See you two in the morning.”

“Wish her luck from me, not that she needs it,” you called out as the door closed in his wake. It hadn’t even clicked shut and you had tossed the remote onto Logan’s lap. “Right, find a decent movie and not a bloody cartoon.”

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

Logan laughed as you narrowed your eyes at him before continuing scrolling down the title list. “Fine, what about the new Jennifer Lawrence one?”

With a full stomach, you put the lids back on the containers and made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying your head on Logan’s lap and using his thigh as a pillow. Just like old times, you smiled as his palm started to brush over your hair softly.

You hadn’t read the synopsis when you agreed to the choice and you started to regret it. The entire plot was centred around a woman who was afraid of catching feelings and so she ran at the first sight of them. You grew uncomfortable as the movie played and neither of you laughed much - you were too busy wishing you didn’t see the similarities of when you did the same to Logan. And Logan, well he had a frown etched deep into his forehead.

“You’re thinking so loud that I’m getting a headache,” you said as you rolled onto your back and looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just thinking about the race. All the races, and crashes. I keep fucking up.”

You waited for him to continue but he was staring at the tv without really seeing what was there so you paused it. “Mistakes happen. James seems like a good principle - he should have told you this.”

“He is, but I want to be better. I push harder to prove I can but then I crash out, but if I hold back then I come last. I just don’t know how to find the balance. I feel like a failure.” He looked away, ashamed.

You sat up and cradled his cheek in your hand, guiding his face back so you could see his eyes. “You’re not a failure, Lo. You’re a rookie, it’s about learning and getting experience.”

“Oscar’s a rookie too.”

“Yeah, but he had a year of testing to get used to the car. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You decided at that moment that you were going to take up his offer. “And to make sure you remember it, I’ll be in your garage tomorrow. I might even bring a picket sign so you can see me from the track.”

“You would too,” he chuckled before sighing and releasing the tension in his shoulders. “It's completely selfish of me, but I missed hanging out like this.”

“Me too, Lo.”

“Are you sure you want to go home?”

“No,” you scoffed. “But what else can I do? I only left so Jacky wasn’t on his own but he has Lily now. I have no place to live and everything I owned is probably already in the Monaco landfill.”

“You could stay with me,” he offered before quickly adding, “I have a guest room.”

You couldn’t quite ignore the feeling of disappointment that set in your gut at the thought of being his roommate. “You’re too nice but you’ll want your privacy, it would be awkward if you brought a girlfriend home.” That thought unsettled you even more.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said a little sadly. “I have about the same success with dating as I do scoring points.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” you stated confidently. “I believe in you.”

You were hardly spotted with Lando all weekend but that wasn’t abnormal since his team kept him busy with meet and greets. Unfortunately, arriving with Logan at the airport and then at the paddock each day had caused a few whispers to spread. Rumours of the breakup were popping up on the Wag blogs and the term homie hopper was being thrown around too.

Girl has gone and signed the Declaration of Independence. Y/N belongs to America now. The tweet made you giggle a little bit as you sat in Logan’s garage eating a slice of the cake you had baked the crew. You had kept them supplied with fresh baking all weekend after finding out Logan’s hotel suite had a fully stocked kitchen and they had quickly welcomed you after that.

The busy garage fell silent, the wheel guns shutting off as the mechanics put them down to watch the pair of McLaren men walking in from the pit lane. One smiled at the Williams shirt you wore, the other looked at Logan with a new interest.

“Kim thought he smelt your baking,” Oscar said as he spotted the cake before giving you a hug. “I get not being in papaya but this is just traitorous.”

“I don’t know, I quite like it. I was even propositioned - head baker sounds good to me. Especially since I need a new job.”

Lando’s smile dropped. “Wait, what?”

You could see the people around pretending to be busy but they collectively leaned closer. They were not ignorant to the rumours in the paddock.

“Quadrant doesn’t need me. I know I was only on the payroll because of you,” you said quietly. “I emailed Max my resignation when I got to Nice, I thought he would have told you.”

“Well I’m CEO and, as CEO, I’m not accepting it.”

“Don’t be a dick, mate,” Oscar interjected, placing a hand on Lando’s chest and giving him a little push back away from you.

“I didn’t sign away my basic fucking rights so if you want to piss away your money paying me for nothing then fine.”

A warm body pressed up beside you and you didn’t have to look to know it was Logan, before his accent confirmed it. “I think you should go back to your garage, now.”

Oscar sent Logan a grateful nod and headed towards the floodlights with a firm hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“Drive safe,” you called out, both of their heads turning back at your voice but you were only looking at one of them.

“Of course,” Oscar nodded seriously. “Don’t forget, we’re going out tonight.”

“How could I forget? Free booze - It’s the only reason I came.” You hooked your arm into Logan’s and peeked up at his stoic features, his eyes still staring daggers at Lando. “You’re coming too, right?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smirk. “Someone’s got to make sure you get tucked into bed…again.”

You choked on a laugh as his words had the desired effect and Oscar shook his head as his teammate swept from the room. “If that wasn't about my sister I would hi-five you,” he said with a smile in his tone. “Good luck out there.”

“You too.”

“That was naughty,” you teased as work resided in the garage.

The mechanics were busy preparing the car for the race when your phone vibrated in your pocket and Logan’s attention was taken by his engineer. Ducking away from the distracting noise, you answered the call and pressed a finger into your ear so you could hear.

“It’s, uh, me, Lando.”

“I know, I do have your number.”

“Oh, I thought you might have deleted it,” he cleared his throat and from the quiet at his end you knew he was hidden in his driver room. “I just wanted to let you know I’m posting the announcement before the race. And…I hope Logan makes you happy. Truly.”

“It’s not what you think, despite what he said before. He doesn’t even think of me that way.”

“I’m not sure who you’re trying to convince,” Lando said before sighing. “I know sorry doesn’t begin to cover it but for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. Anyway, I should go.”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat at the genuine apology, but you weren’t ready to say what he was wanting to hear, you weren’t ready to forgive him. “Drive safe, Lando.”

His exhale of relief drifted through the phone. “Thank you.”

landonorris

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“Woah, slow down, sweetheart.” The glass was taken from your hand and Logan took a drink of it himself as he settled into the booth beside you. “That’s strong.”

“Fastest way to get drunk, and that’s exactly what I am aiming for.”

“Just let her get it out of her system,” Oscar suggested after breaking away from a conversation with Felipe, the Aston Martin reserve driver he had befriended. “Trust me, she’ll get trashed, blow off some steam and be over him tomorrow.”

“I am over him,” you stated as you took your drink back and jutted your chin to the tv screens replaying the podium celebration hours ago. “I just can’t seem to get away from them.”

Logan frowned as he followed your gaze and saw Carlos and Lando spraying each other with champagne before hugging tightly. “Them?”

Your eyes widened as you realised what you said and you shuffled closer to him. With a quick scan over the others, you found they weren’t paying any attention so you cupped your hand around Logan’s ear for some privacy. “Please forget I said that and never repeat it, please, you have to promise me.”

He chewed his bottom lip in contemplation before tipping his head down to yours and you felt his warmth breath across your cheek. “The NDA was about this, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t want you getting into trouble, and I don’t give a shit what those two do in their own time - he’s still an asshole for cheating on you. You deserve better than that.”

You looked down at your glass, tracing your finger around the salted rim. “You don’t think it’s my fault?”

“What?” he laughed before realising you were serious. “How would it be your fault?”

“I, I don’t know…” you lied.

“You think you turned him gay.” Logan was more astute than anyone gave him credit for, or maybe he just knew you too well. Grabbing your chin, he guided your face back so he could meet your eyes. “Sweetheart, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I know,” you whispered. “He was only with me because he was lonely. And I think I was the same. Oscar had just moved in with Lily and I was alone for the first time in my life. I just keep wondering what would have happened if I answered your call that night.”

His hand dropped from where it had slowly shifted to cradle your cheek. “Why didn’t you?”

You screwed your eyes shut as you remembered the summer that had changed your future completely. You had tried to resist the growing feelings for Logan but after a week spent on his uncle’s superyacht you realised you were deep in it. It had frightened you - the fear of losing him as a friend - if it turned out to be a mistake. It wasn’t just your friendship at risk either, there was the one of Oscar and Logan to think about too.

It had been overwhelming, so when the holiday came to an end you went incommunicado.

That was also the summer where Oscar had quietly been in talks with McLaren and at one of those meetings you had accompanied him to, you met Lando. Friendly, handsome, and no attachment to Oscar at that point, he was the escape you needed.

“Because I realised I loved you and it scared me. It still does, but I’m done running.”

You didn’t know who moved first and the consequences of the actions were far from your mind as your lips met. The club could have been on fire but you wouldn’t have recognised the sound of the alarms as your racing heartbeat echoed in your head and your hands fisted his shirt to pull him closer. You moaned when you felt him deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as his hand traced down your spine.

His kiss were exactly like you remembered them, pillow soft lips that yearned with a hunger you could match. And you did.

“Dude!” Oscar interrupted as he threw a coin at you. “I’m right here!”

You tossed the coin right back at him. “Look away then, little brother. You’re the one who said to blow off some steam.”

“Ugh, not what I meant,” he said as he finished his beer. “I’m calling it a night. You two…have fun or whatever.”

“Wait, you’re not mad?” you asked as he grabbed his jacket, Felipe deciding to join him instead of becoming a third wheel.

“I’m not your keeper, you’re an adult. God knows you two have been googly-eyed over each other since you met.”

“Was not googly-eyed!”

“Whatever you say.” Oscar laughed at you as he rose from the table and ruffled your hair before clapping Logan on the shoulder. “Take care of her, please.”

“Of course, always planned to.”

Oscar nodded with a final wave. “I know.”

—

The need to get drunk was replaced with another need entirely and it didn’t take long before Logan closed the tab and paid the bill before hailing a taxi. His hand had not left your body for one moment, either resting on the small of your back or holding your hand - like he was afraid if he let you go you would disappear again.

When you woke in the morning, those hands still held you close, his legs tangled between yours, his skin warm against yours. For a moment you found the home you had been searching for since you left Australia as a teenager wanting to carve out a piece of the world as her own. For a moment you were in heaven.

You didn’t know how quickly that feeling would disappear. You didn’t know that photos of you and Logan’s kiss were already going viral.

Whore, slut, gold digger.

“Ignore them, sweetheart,” Logan said as he took your phone and turned it off for the flight to Japan. “You and I know the truth, that’s all that matters.”

It was hard to imagine having the strength to ignore the accusations, especially when you couldn’t defend yourself without exposing Lando. He must have known that too as for a second time in a week you found yourself in an airport terminal and facing your ex.

“Hey.” You didn’t know what to do when he opened his arms for a hug but after a moment you stepped into his embrace. “Logan called.”

You turned to Logan, a look of confusion clear on your face as you waited for an explanation. “It’s his fans bullying you, and if he really wants you to be happy like he said then the least he can do is show them there’s no problem,” he said with a shrug.

“He’s right,” Lando said as he nudged you gently. “I wasn’t lying when I said I hope we could still be friends. If you’re not ready for that then I’ll respect it but I’m still here if you need and I won’t stop apologising.”

Your night with Logan had washed away at the residual hurt that had been left by Lando and you softened at his words. Wrapping your arms around his waist you took a deep breath and released it just as heavily. “I forgive you, Lan. And he does make me happy, he always has.”

He smiled knowingly as you stepped back and under Logan’s arm. “Good. I’m glad.”

You smiled up at Logan before turning it to Lando, feeling lighter than you had all week - maybe all your life. There was no sarcasm or edge when you told him wholeheartedly, “I hope you get your happiness too.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris fanfic #Logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #lando norris imagine #logan sargeant x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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babydollmarauders · 7 months

Text

QUINNY’S B-DAY — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

quinn hughes x platonic!reader

notes: a short birthday post for our now 24 year old captain 🫶🏻

y/n.hughes

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y/n.hughes Q, you taught me what familial love really is. you took a quiet, introverted, anxiety ridden, 13 year old girl under your wing, and i’m so grateful for that. you constantly reminded me that my home life did not make me who i was, but that it could help shape me into who i wanted to become. it’s because of you that i met my soulmate and have the amazing family and support system that i have now. where everyone else saw an outcasted 8th grader who snuck in to watch hockey practices, you saw someone who needed your love and guidance, and you had never been more right. you showed me that my house was not a home, but yours was. you showed me that i could live a life that made me feel good. and most importantly, you showed me what it was like to feel loved and wanted in someone’s life.

i’m so thankful that i get to call you my brother. i’m thankful that when i call, you answer; when i cry, you do anything to make me smile; and when i’m living, you’re cheering me on.

i love you from the north pole to the south, a million times over 🤍 thank you for providing me with the chance to be happy “because i deserve it”

happy 24th, snuggles!

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_quinnhughes was i expecting to cry a bit today? no. thank you, lovie. i love you from the north pole to the south, a billion times over 💙

y/n.hughes oh- a billion is a lot more than a million

_quinnhughes yes it is, it’s also how much i love you

y/n.hughes oh okay

jackhughes you broke my wife, jackass

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes aren’t you supposed to be nice to me on my birthday?

jackhughes i was gonna, and then you made my lovie cry again

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes again?

jackhughes she already cried going through her camera roll to find these pictures and writing the post

_quinnhughes @/y/n.hughes call me 💙

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes happy birthday, Quinner! best oldest bro there ever was 💪

_quinnhughes thanks, moose!

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes happy birthday, Quinn! 🫡 go beat the Oilers!

_quinnhughes thank you, Alex! i’ll sure try!

colecaufield @_quinnhughes haps birth, cap bro!

_quinnhughes you didn’t finish a single word in that sentence… thanks, Cole?

colecaufield you’re so welcome!

jackhughes @_quinnhughes i guess happy birthday big bro, hope you have a good day and a good game!

_quinnhughes lovie made you say this, didn’t she?

jackhughes you know it

_quinnhughes i’ll accept it anyways, thanks Jacky

jackhughes El also says happy birthday

_quinnhughes she can’t even say happy birthday, dude

jackhughes but she CAN say “appy day-day, winny!”, i was paraphrasing

_quinnhughes big word for ya, bud

jackhughes just for that, you don’t get to see my daughter or my wife

_quinnhughes too late, lovie is facetiming me rn. talk to ya in two secs

jackhughes damnit, lovie!

y/n.hughes i love and miss him 🥺

jackhughes damn, i can’t stay mad at you

#el!hughes au #quinn hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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harlowsbby · 3 months

Text

Will U? 💘

“Will you be my Valentine?” He sighed and shook his head. “Will you do me the honor of being my Valentine this year?” He groaned and moaned once again.

“What is he doing?” Ace asked Drama as the two of them sat from afar watching Jack. “I think he’s practicing for when he ask Y/N to be his Valentine.” Drama said.

“But aren’t they already dating?” Ace said. “Yeah but you know Jack he’s a bit extra.” He said.

Even though Jack and You were already dating and have been a couple for two years now you still loved the thought of being asked to be his Valentine. Earlier that day Jack had overheard you talking on the phone to your friends.

You had mentioned how you’d wish Jack would ask you to be his Valentine even if the two of you were already dating you just thought it would be cute.

Flashback.

“I just feel like it’ll be cute you know? I walk into the house and he’s there with a poster board or something holding flowers and he ask me to be his valentine.” You romanticized.

“You’re so silly you know that.” Annie laughed. “Like you’re both dating already why would he do all of that?” Jackie said.

“Because it’ll be cute but I know he won’t so I’m not even going to worry about it.” You told them and all three of you started talking about something else.

Jack frowned a bit as he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice he knew right then and there that he needed to make this Valentine’s eventful.

Flashback over.

“Okay so who ordered the dozen of roses and this big ass teddy bear and these chocolates?” Urban said as he came into the studio.

“Yeah and these balloons.” Neelam added on. “I did these are all for Y/N.” Jack said.

He called you a few minutes ago asking for you to come down to the studio he didn’t exactly say way but you didn’t question it. He had gotten red letter balloons that spelt out ‘will you be my valentine?’ Along with roses and chocolates and a teddy bear that was bigger than him.

“You’re going to ask her to be your Valentine? Why do that when you’re both already dating I thought it was like obvious she was your Valentine this year?” Urban laughed.

“I mean yeah but I heard her talking to her friends earlier about how she’d love for me to do this so here I am.” Jack said.

“But I don’t want to be rude but I need all of you to leave the studio because she’s about to be here.” He quickly rushed them out of the room before they were able to say anything else.

He set up the balloons and thanked the heavens that they all fit and put the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear on the studio couch.

Once he was done he had gotten a text from you stating that you had just arrived. When you made your way inside the studio his security escorted you to the studio.

“Jack?” You called out and opened the studio door.

“Jack? Are you in here?” Once you finally opened up the door all the way you were taken back by the balloons and everything else. “Hey baby.” Jack smiled wide upon seeing you.

“What’s all of this?” You turned to look at him with slight tears threatening to spill. “It’s all for you I heard you earlier talking to your friends.”

“You heard all of that?” You instantly felt bad the last thing you wanted to do was to make him feel like he was being forced into doing something.

“I did but it’s okay don’t worry baby but I did want to ask you a question.” He said and you smiled. “What’s your question?” You asked even though you knew his answer.

“Will you be my Valentine?” He asked you. “Of course I’ll be your Valentine.” You smiled.

Jack cheered and picked you up and began to spin you around the two of you laughing like hyenas. “Jack! Okay put me down.” You giggled.

“I love you.” He said when he finally put you back down. “I love you too Jack.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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chilschuck · 1 month

Note

I NEED CHILCHUCK+LAIOS WITH A LANA DEL REY CODED READER!!!!!

Recently I've been listening to Lana del Rey's music and it's just.... Ethereal, ethereal and melancholic.

So, I would like reader to have a similar vibe, you know? She looks ethereal, the type of gorgeous that you doubt if she is real or just a hallucination, but also melancholic. Something about her just always looks a little sad and lost in thought.

She's also gentle, like a mother's embrace, she's soft spoken (bonus if she also sings and has a similar voice like Lana)

But if you had listened to Lana's music (which I think you have) she has a ton of slightly suggestive music, so maybe she's also a bit flirty and playfull.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ anon you have no idea what you have done to me. i hadn’t listened to her music in depth but now i am HOOKED. AND THIS IDEA WAS SO FUN TO WRITE FOR???? god bless you…….. i hope hcs are okay! i went a little ham on them, lol. even put lyrics i thought fit them in a way! i hope this is what you were wanting, and thank you so much for your request!!! <3

— HEADCANONS: lana del rey coded reader.

୨୧ i’ve got my eye on you. (say yes to heaven!)

꒰ charas: ꒱ LAIOS & CHILCHUCK.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 852

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw + fem!reader.

✦ once again, sorry if anything seems ooc. i had too much writing this and blasting her music, LOL. and a special thank you to my love jackie for reading over it for me!!! WAHH

— LAIOS: “i can see my sweet boy swaying.”

✦ The first time he lays eyes on you, he has to ask himself if he’s dreaming. Certainly he must be, with the way the world just seems to stop whenever you’re around. There’s an air of mystery there, and when your eyes flit up to meet his, he’s captivated.

✦ It’s not just your beauty that enraptured him; I like to think he saw a depth in you he hadn’t seen before. Maybe he was drawn to the way you always looked almost… wistful, longing… Sad. But there was a beauty in sadness, wasn’t there? The way you still moved about so captivatingly while seeming so far away in those eyes… It was breath-taking.

✦ Laios definitely thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen. It’s haunting almost, the way your hair frames your face and the silkiness of your voice. The first time you spoke to him, he knew he would beg you to do it again. You’re soft-spoken, a voice that carries so much weight for him. Say the word, and he’s there.

✦ I don’t think anything could’ve prepared him for your playfulness. You leave little ghosting touches down his arms and back when he’s deep in thought, only fueling his speculation that you’re just his imagination. Maybe you even whisper his name, having it bleed from your lips in that way of yours that makes his skin erupt in goosebumps. Press your lips against his ear and hum his name, only to pull away with that grin on your face. Watch as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, cheeks red as he swallows. (I think teasing him would be a lot of fun, especially when he’ll just buckle.)

✦ The first time Laios hears you sing, his head seems to spin. Direct it at him, sing for him, and he might just melt. Maybe you don’t even mean for him to hear you the first time, but now it’s something he longs for.

✦ Aside from the teasing and flirting, you’re gentle. Almost painfully so, your touch too sweet for him to fathom. Look at him with those distant eyes and cup his cheeks in your palms, your sweet boy, and he instantly leans into your embrace. Pull him in, hold him close, maybe even sway just a bit as you hum. I think you’ll really make him feel like he’s dreaming, then.

— CHILCHUCK: “be my once in a lifetime.”

✦ Don’t blame him if you catch him staring. The first time he sees you, Chilchuck falters. Is it possible for someone to be this beautiful? Ethereal seemed to be an understatement, especially when your gaze met his.

✦ We know Chilchuck doesn’t like to let too much show; this man is repressed. Even so, you draw something out of him. You’re deep like an ocean, dark like its depths, strong like the tide. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe this is as close as it gets.

✦ He feels like he could drown in you. Your voice, your eyes, your touch. You’re gentle in all the right ways, especially in the way you speak. Chilchuck has heightened senses, and you please every single one of them. When you first decided to talk to him, he couldn’t believe how soft your voice really was. Say his name and he just about can’t take it.

✦ You drive him up the wall when you tease him. You know he loves to hear you speak, and when you let that playfulness bleed into your tone, he’s smitten. Flirt with him and you might just get a red faced half-foot in the palm of your hands. Your embrace is what really makes his head spin. Pull him close to your chest with your addicting touch and he might just never let you go.

✦ Chilchuck longs for genuine affection like this, revels in it. If you give that to him, even just a taste, he comes back for more. It goes without saying that your voice when you sing has him almost gasping for air. How can someone look this gorgeous, sound this breathtaking? Pull him back to reality with you, remind him this isn’t some sort of cruel trick on his mind.

✦ Chilchuck doesn’t like to see your saddened gaze, even if it’s only there in fleeting moments. You’re melancholic, he knows that, and for some reason it just makes him want to dive deeper. Are you hiding things like he is? Maybe there’s an unsaid connection there with that shared knowledge. Chil lets himself go when he’s meeting your gaze, all that emotion he bottles up doesn’t seem to matter when he’s with you.

✦ Going back to your gentle touch, he just about crumbles under you. Imagine how tightly he’s wound, how long he’s craved some sort of connection like he has with you. Chilchuck, when he’s alone with you, lets himself get lost in thought too. But instead of painful memories and the tasks at hand, he drowns in your embrace and wonders how he ever went this long without someone like you.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#WHEE I DID IT!#GOT THIS OUT BEFORE MIDNIGHT!#now time to do schoolwork LOL #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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onlyseokmins · 10 months

Text

the devil wears baby blue • h.j.s.

Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol Warnings: joshua hong himself 🚩🚩, swearing, alcohol, reader is a menace and tease too i'm ngl, grinding, groping, slight exhibition kink, degradation, name-calling, objectification, FINGERS (all of it fingering, riding, etc), mentions of knife/surgery, choking, wbk but major hints to big cock josh 💔, marking, licking, alluding to devil imagery uwu, roleplay sort of but not really, kind of public sex acts + a mirror, manhandling, lil slaps, dangerous fashion decisions + "fun" clothing shenanigans during sex ig????, mentions of car sex and oral sex (male rec.), dirty talk (joshua won't stfu), edging, lil bit of pain kink if you squint ❤️‍🩹, and tons of banter/insults, is there a thing like a wealth kink??? - as always lmk if i missed smth WC: 7k A/N: *taps mic* would love to thank @onlymingyus and @duhnova for proofing, hyping, and supporting me on this. also ofc a huge honorary shout out to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for the constant cheering and screeching at me in and out of dms - hope you enjoy this hehe. idk if jackie will see this but her watch post(s) helped re-inspire me to attack this wip. and finally blowing kisses to the joshushushus in my inbox, i hope you'll like this! ps if anyone recognizes where the last dialogue is from, you receive a kiss on the forehead from me and get to spend one night with joshua!! 😏

↪ this is a loosely based prequel to idiot

Seungkwan's hand lays steady on your back, guiding you through the crowd much more efficiently than you could have on your own. He has a way of navigating through the waves of people with practiced ease whereas you would rather just be swept away. It's why you enjoy going to the club with him, especially one as crazy as tonight's.

You would think you were still on the dance floor with how many people are bustling around you, mingling and giggling just as much on the sidelines as they do moving to the music. Drinks in hand, they chat and flirt with one another so it takes nearly twice as long to make it to the bar than you think it really should.

"This better be worth it," you shout directly into your friend's ear despite how close you are to him. "For the amount of times my feet have been stepped on!"

There's a sharp pinch from his fingers that snuck to your side. "Told you not to wear those stupid shoes."

Though you can't exactly hear it, you can see how his pouty lips purse out in a huff. He's also grumbling under his breath and you're able to catch bits and pieces. Things like, "won't matter" and "swept off your feet anyways" and "don't blame me" make you roll your eyes.

"Acting like this is my social debut with the prince of wales."

"Someone's been watching too much Bridgerton. And with how often you fail to come —" he's interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass, "makes sense."

"You can't possibly compare me against your standards, Mister Social Butterfly. You know everyone… and you've probably screwed a lot of them as well."

Seungkwan can only guess a gist of what you actually say and is therefore mildly tempted to let you get lost in the sea of people like he knows you'd rather prefer. But he's finally made it all the way over to what seems like an impenetrable social circle, though the group readily parts to make room for the two of you to squeeze in. So, he'll have to bring you along for the adventure.

"Hey there!"

"Hello!"

"Fancy seeing you here."

"I know, right?"

Greetings are easily interchanged. Most of them are familiar faces �� friends of your own or people you've gotten to know simply through Seungkwan's ever-growing collection of new instagram posts.

Jeonghan's got some poor new soul to flirt with again and Seokmin looks like he'd rather be at home watching cooking videos. Vernon is wearing headphones of all things while Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. And you instinctively know Mingyu has to be up to no good because you don't see or hear him.

Not that you're actually paying that much attention to the same-old-same people, focus naturally drawn to the tall man standing next to Wonwoo. Light brown hair curls just beneath his ears, shaggy enough that the urge to run your fingers through and imagine what the tug of strands between them might feel like consumes you. It comes as a shock, considering that Jeonghan's had the same style before and you've never felt like this.

You drink in the baby blue shirt that compliments the mystery man's skin tone, top buttons left undone to showcase the delicate silver around his throat and framed by collar bones. The fabric's elegance belies the strength of the body it clothes, material straining tastefully in the tiniest bit over a broad chest and wide shoulders. Sleeves rolled up to accentuate the flex of his forearm down to the long, long fingers wrapped all the way around the glass of alcohol held between them.

"That's Joshua Hong," Seungkwan supplies helpfully though he can't hide how smug he sounds observing you and shares a knowing look with Vernon who snickers.

"Joshua Hong," you repeat and enjoy how easy his name sounds and feels coming off your tongue. "Is that so?"

"Yeah and to my knowledge, he's extremely single."

"Don't tell me that's how you introduce me to other people."

He feigns innocence. "Can't recall but even if I did, bet it's going to work in your favor. Don't look now but it seems like you've caught a big fish."

Of course, when someone tells you not to look, the first thing you'd logically do is look. Glad you weren't caught staring earlier now that the very same man you were drooling over has noticed your existence and is staring directly at you.

Brown irises drop down to scan your figure and the suggestiveness of it lights something deep within you. You're quick to nudge off Seungkwan's arm around your waist when Joshua's eyes linger a second longer on it than you'd expect, ignoring your friend's sassy mutter of "hook, line, and sinker."

"I… I really don't like that implication, 'Kwan."

"Sure you don't."

Joshua Hong's intent gaze is far from unsavory. Even if it was more perverse in nature, you think you'd feel drunk off the same amount of power it fills you with and you haven't had a single drop of alcohol yet. A swear word escapes under your breath at the dampness of your back — and elsewhere — before sending the admiring man a demure smile of acknowledgement and turning once more to Seungkwan.

"You were criticizing my shoes earlier?"

"'Cause you can barely walk in them!"

"Then let's put these bad boys to good use."

Your friend can only shake his head as you stride away. He'll keep an occasional eye on you from afar for the rest of the night but he has a hunch things will be… fine. He hopes. Wonwoo did say Joshua was a decent man, after all.

He'll have to be… if he's willing to put up with you, Seungkwan thinks to himself with a cringe as he watches.

Vernon hands over a much appreciated beer and he sidles up to the unbothered man's side, jutting his chin out in your direction and asking, "Are you ready for some entertainment?"

"Yo, always bro."

"Cheers to that."

Meanwhile, you've made it to the new company without stumbling once — something you're very proud of. You nod at Joshua. Nothing more than a soft flutter of eyelashes, alerting him that you're aware of his presence but indulging in nothing more. Instead, you choose to lean comfortably into his companion's space.

"Hi Woo, care to share?"

The bespectacled man wordlessly offers his nearly empty glass of wine, always easygoing and ever perceptive. Unlike his best friend who never fails to be endearing but can't take a hint to save his life. One of the many reasons why Mingyu has never succeeded as a wingman — unfathomably clumsy but still loveable in all aspects to steal everyone's heart involved.

You finish the rest of Wonwoo's drink off with a satisfied hiss at the taste but not without a snort. "I didn't mean that, silly."

He cracks a smile, returning the teasing with a fake, reproaching scold of your name. "Could've told me you wanted to steal my buddy and not drain all my alcohol!"

Joshua laughs — loud and clear above the din of noises surrounding you. It has an air of gracefulness to it and you're sure the club brightens in a way that's totally not from the strobe lights going crazy.

"So, this is Seungkwan's friend…"

You jab Wonwoo's side with a huff. "Hey, I'm much more than that!"

"If it's any consolation," Joshua cuts in with another laugh and a handshake, taking on a self introduction. "I'm just some guy named Joshua. Hope that doesn't disappoint."

"Just some guy, huh? One that wears a Royal Oak?"

He thrillingly doesn't let go of your hand, keeping a firm but gentle grasp when turning it with his to properly glance at the notorious status symbol wrapped around it. The steel casing glints just as fiercely as the sapphire glass over white gold hour-markers embedded on its face.

"Yep, still just some guy that's called Josh. Joshua Hong, to be exact. Scared you off yet?"

"I wear heels that have a one hundred percent chance of breaking my ankle to a place where there's a terrible combo of dancing and drinks. But you think I'd be scared by a pretty boy wearing thirty-some jewels around his wrist?"

He steals another appreciative look up and down your body. Not as fiery as the first one but still bold without shame, striking another bolt of heat that flashes through your veins and simmers in your lower abdomen.

"Taste. And bite. I'd expect nothing less from someone like you."

"Someone like me?" you scoff as he winks, taking a step back and extending your arm as far as it will go with the notion for you to follow.

"Dance with me?"

Wonwoo had quietly faded into the background and slipped away for another refill. Smart guy. There's no one to worry about leaving behind when you accept this unfamiliar man's invitation and let him whisk you in the direction of the dancefloor. But not before catching Seungkwan's mild and supportive yet watchful gaze before he raises his beer in a mock salute.

It's almost cute at how inept Joshua is maneuvering through the tumultuous flow and ebb of moving bodies compared to said good friend. The way his taller frame looks more like a poor cruise ship tossed helplessly in the waves of the ocean than the stationary lighthouse and its reassuring beacon you'd expect causes a chuckle.

"You're almost as bad at this as I am."

He shoots an apologetic smile at the same time someone once again jostles his shoulder, pushing him closer into you. "Nightclubs really aren't my scene."

You're not complaining about the aided proximity that lets you hear what he says without strain. Although you do try to match the beat as it changes to something more sensual yet still playful. Going along with the rhythm of the other dancers rather than against much smoother than Joshua's awkward attempt to mimic. He sticks behind you, failing to hide the blatant mesmerization at how you sway effortlessly to the beat.

"You're not bad at this at all."

You shrug. "I've been here often enough to blend in better than most. So tell me, what's a rich boy's usual scene then? Shanqin Bay's clubhouse?"

"Hah, you wanna come with me sometime and find out?"

"Only if you can promise a fun experience… oh," you throw a smirk at him over your shoulder, "and to cover all the costs, of course."

"A pretty thing like you would have anyone saying yes and wrapped around your little finger."

"Maybe, but only if they're worth my attention."

"Afraid to disappoint yet again when I spend most hours of the day in the operating room."

You turn abruptly to face him, grateful for the hand that shoots out to support your elbow despite his surprise at your dubious side-eye. "Are you a doctor?"

"Maybe."

"Director's son?"

"Cliché enough for you yet?"

"I recall someone who's wearing a Royal Oak saying I had good taste so I'm not going to complain. Though it would have been quite the story to hear you were the one under the knife," you take a step closer and slip a finger underneath his silver chain to tempt him closer, "to end up looking this good." When large hands hesitate to land on your hips, you raise an eyebrow. "Thought a surgeon would have a steadier grip."

"Oh." Brown eyes flicker with a carnal desire, focusing on your lips. "You expect me to be a rich, talented playboy and not be naturally handsome too?"

"Sorry, Doctor Hong but there has to be at least something wrong with you."

The polite smile he'd been wearing all night quirks up at the corners, changing into something more on edge. A little dangerous. Beckoning excitement. He spins you back around, hands solidly landing on your sides — this time without reserve — to prevent your lower bodies from touching and changes the subject back to when you approached Wonwoo and him.

"Do you always take drinks from guys?"

"Ah, hm. Just the good ones."

"Good alcohol?" His breath is hot against the ear he's speaking directly into. "Or… good boys?"

Biting your lower lip does nothing to hide the unfettered glee you're feeling. "Alcohol, of course." A breathy sigh and you take the leap. "Want a taste?"

There's no need to ask twice. It's like the right key turning its lock. The doctor's initial awkward movements are nowhere to be found as one hand smoothly leaves your hip, turning your chin toward him to meet you halfway with his lips ready to brush against yours.

At the last minute, he backs off and turns your chin to its original position of facing forward with a smirk you can't see. Who cares about a missed kiss when his other hand slides across your stomach? Urging you to press your ass backwards and grind against the very obvious bulge that his khakis do nothing to hide.

Its growing hardness and promising length cause you to automatically moan, arching your back with the feral need to feel more. Your head tilts to the side, hips swiveling and swaying not to the beat but the rise of his cock. The position willingly grants Joshua access to lick, suck, and bite at the exposed skin.

He hums along to the music with a melodic voice from what you can hear, though you find more enjoyment in the consistent vibrations against your neck. A naughty hand plays with the tucked-in hem of your blouse and an occasional finger teasingly slips under the waistline of your jeans.

You can now feel Joshua's smirk when in turn, your fingers tangle in the bottom hairs of his mullet. His lips curl up, moving to nibble behind your other ear and breathe in your scent. As delightfully predicted, there's a distinct pull by your rings when you tug them free from the strands that has him pausing. Eliciting a sharp hiss and equally as sharp — but appreciative — thrust against your backside.

In retaliation, the lax hand caressing your throat tightens around it ever so slightly while he growls in your ear, "You said there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Mhm, oh yeah. Totally."

"Wanna fuck around and find out, beautiful?"

Hook, line, and sinker was damn right, Boo Seungkwan. Of course, the devil would be wearing a shirt the same shade as the sky where heaven's clouds make their home.

And you eagerly take the forbidden fruit — his hand, once again — and teeter after him. The red flags are already starting to fly at full mast but into the dimly lit hallway you go, elated to find an empty and quiet corner right before the stairs leading down to the bathrooms.

Underneath the neon glow of the exit sign, Joshua pins you against the wall with your arms laying on his shoulders. If you thought the attacks from his mouth were rough on the dance floor, they turn ten times more animalistic now that he has something to support you with other than strong arms and big hands. A pair of soft lips and the warm wet tongue between them contrast with the digging in of his teeth that follow your necklace chain to its adorning pendant.

It hangs in the v-neck window of your blouse and he lets out a tiny grunt of displeasure at the breasts being concealed away by the fabric and its many buttons. That doesn't stop him from tugging the bottom of the shirt free like a petulant child, nothing preventing his fingers now free to tickle and feel up the bare skin beneath.

This man is good at distraction. You don't think much of the light grazing beneath your tits, only a fleeting and casual touch. It feels so good when he cups under them like an additional support for the bra you're wearing and squeezes, causing you to keen and push yourself further into him. Then quick as lightning, one hand sneaks around the back to unhook the bra's clasp and the other deftly unbuttons your jeans.

"Joshua!" you squeak in protest, stepping back and pressing flat against the wall. You're quick to rush and slap a hand against your chest to keep the beloved strapless bra that's served you well from falling to the ground. "Is your red flag undressing someone in public?"

"Only if you insist 'cause surely I would never decline such a request being the gentleman that I am." The doctor makes no further move despite the way he licks his lips and teases, only chuckling at the menacing way you squint. "Just know my full intentions are to be touching all over and especially under whatever layers you're wearing very shortly."

There's no use hiding the whine that escapes when he places a hand on the wall next to you and leans in with a smirk.

"However, sweetheart… "

You catch his line of sight dart off to the left and your heart plummets, the fear of being left high and dry (wet) setting in. "Josh — "

"You'll have to forgive this rich boy's schemes. You see, I've always been very spoiled and just have to take what I want right away. And you're much too irresistible…"

He speaks casually. Like your jeans weren't suddenly unzippered and he isn't currently running a tantalizing finger on the fabric below the waistband of your panties, causing them to soaken further down. Way more than they already had and almost where you need him but also not even close in the slightest.

"Though as a rich boy," he continues, "I'm more than familiar with providing a small courtesy here and there. Would this club's filthy bathroom offer enough privacy for you, gorgeous?"

"… Only if you make sure I'm presentable enough to get down there… and back up here after, for when I have to leave with my friends."

Joshua's eyes widen before he's throwing his head back and laughing, bright and cheery like he's not going to rearrange your guts. "So you don't expect to go home with me? Maybe I won't be such a walking red flag to you."

"Doubtful. Now fix me up, Doctor."

"With pleasure."

It's not like there are as many people milling about as in the main area. Still, it's good to be conscientious. The same adept hands re-fasten your top undergarment efficiently. When he ducks his head to kindly fix your pants — which is sort of hot — you take the opportunity to whisper in his ear for shit-and-giggles to gauge his reaction.

"You know there's a front clasp too."

He glances up from where he's eye-level with your covered breasts, eyes darkening. Bingo.

"What a little whore we have here, hm?"

The nonchalant, degrading question and burning desire in his gaze makes your knees weaken, arousal skyrocketing. Enough that you almost throw all caution to the wind for him to fuck you. Right here, right now. But then he's pulling away, offering a palm you can't seem to refrain from taking a hold of. And ever the true picture of being a gentleman — helps you descend down the dark stairwell.

Your killer heels really do nothing for you physically (besides the threat of rolling an ankle) because it doesn't matter how tall or short you end up with them on. It's the confidence and ego that are heightened exponentially, which is all that matters.

That's why you follow Joshua Hong into the sketchy bathroom, let him lock the door, and bat your eyelashes with a coy smile. Leaning against the sink and fussing with your blouse as he approaches like a predator eyeing up its prey. Greedily drinking in the bare skin revealed by each button that's undone until only one is still fastened — right across your tits — that the man can unclasp himself if he so chooses.

Barely anything stopped him before anyways.

And that's what also fuels you to put your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies close together. Even closer by hooking your right leg across his hip, the point of your heel digging intentionally into the back of his other thigh. It's hot and hard — the dick bulge that keeps growing pressed tightly into the snug warmth of your core — and Joshua lets you grind down and dampen his khakis for a few moments longer than expected.

"Desperate, aren't you? Didn't wanna fuck in public 'cause you're freakier behind closed doors?"

"Just a little." You fight back the urge to whimper or admit anything to him. Like you aren't humping his length that only swells more and feels achingly thicker the harder you rut against it, eyelids fluttering the few times it's able to deliciously spread your pussy lips just the slightest through your clothes. "I'm so wet — "

"The more of a mess you leave on my pants, the longer I'll have to edge you while waiting for them to dry." Joshua grins cockily at you trying to force your hips to stop themselves only to struggle pathetically in vain. "Think you'd like that. Haven't even gotten to fuck this hot little cunt yet and I'm already certain I wouldn't mind being buried in there for hours. But don't know if your friends will stick around for that long…"

"J-Josh, ah — Shua… mhm!"

"So I think you'd better behave if you know what's good for you," he stills your hips hard, "fuckin' slut."

You mewl at the hard, rude thrust that bumps your clit as if he was actually fucking you. Like goo, you let him manhandle you around so you're bent over and facing the smudged mirror, hands gripping tightly to each side of the sink basin. Aided by the reflections, you witness how he shamelessly ogles the tempting ass that's been rubbing all over him all night. And of course that means you have to perk up and wiggle your hips, giving him quite a show.

The small distance between you clears the lust cloud and you throw a smoldering glance over your shoulder. "If you fuck me with my heels on, I'll give you a chance with them off."

Joshua swats your ass — not very hard but you release a yelp of surprise. "Wasn't aware that you were running the show, sweetheart."

"It's my backside you're looking at."

"Knew you were mouthy the minute I saw you. You're aware of how kind I am, so let me give you a choice." He's anything but kind as he sighs and leans his weight over top of you. Despite the bracing strength of his arms, you feel suffocated by just being caged in between them and the overpowering scent of his cologne. "I shut you up with either my fingers in your mouth or around your throat."

Oh… decisions, decisions! Long fingers that would surely feel best deep inside your pussy but that wasn't one of the options. You purse your lips in thought and arch up, balancing the heavy cock supported by your ass and unconsciously pouting. Joshua has the audacity to look at the time while brushing back his hair and clicks his tongue.

"Wow, I'm letting you choose between sucking on my fingers like a slut or being choked like a whore and you still can't decide? What a high maintenance toy."

The urge to scoff is extremely strong. "Sucking it is then, Doctor Hong," you say sweetly and then add with a sneer, "like the perfect slut that I truly am."

"When your friends all said you were nothing but a gentle soul, I knew they were duped. Only one was partially truthful in saying you could be sassy which doesn't even come close. Little do they know there's a bratty cockwhore with quite a bite underneath all that charm."

"Haven't fucked any of them, that's why. No plans to either."

"Yeah, what was it you like — oh right, good boys?" He laughs — low, mean, and degrading. "Then what am I, sweetheart?"

"A doctor who's full of himself and needs taken down a few, ha, pegs."

"Ah, there it is." Joshua undoes the final button, slipping a curious finger beneath the bra's front hook pulling your tits together. You shiver when it snaps against your skin after he retracts, pointer finger tracing a lazy line up your throat to its final destination. "The attitude."

You willingly part your lips, lolling your tongue out mischievously to match the roll of your eyes. "Someone gets off on it."

"Is that so?" He smears the lipgloss on your lower lip by pulling it down before releasing it. "Do you think this is all a coincidence, darling?" Meeting the hardened gaze in the mirror, you shake your head. "The minute I saw such a sparkling gem on Wonwoo's story, I just had to have it for myself."

It's not hard to guess what he's referring to. A couple weeks ago, you wore enough scraps of fabric to just cover your nipples and the areas between your legs. Drinking far too much and hanging off of the WonGyu duo's broad frames while the whole gang partied it up together at Vernon's. You had even asked them to send you the videos and pictures after because damn, you did look hot as fuck.

Who knew it would be bait for an entitled pretty boy?

"At least you waited to find me when I wasn't drunk."

"Much more fun to break someone sober."

"Glad to know consensual exists in your vocabulary."

"How about it — will you let me destroy this little pussy of yours and ruin it to keep you crawling back to me for more?"

"Sure, if you ever stop talking and actually do something — "

Joshua's quick to shut you up, almost cracking your jaw with the harsh thumb that's jammed in the corner of your mouth to prop it open. The following two fingers are thrust cruelly inside as a replacement so it can move to keep your chin steady. They're able to reach so far when pinning down your tongue, ending up wedged near the back of your throat so you're already gagging around them.

"Most sluts behave the second I drop the nice guy act. But boy oh boy, it only makes you act up more, eh?"

He finally does away with your bra to allow those gorgeous tits to spill out and casually rips the garment from your body like it's personally offended him. Maybe it has. Shoving it away into his back pocket and then urgently tugging your jeans down. The binding position you're left in helps keep your shaky legs in place while you cling to the sink like it's a lifeline. Upper body supported only by the cruel hold he has on your face until he yanks it back so you're flush against him instead, the cool baby-blue silk of his shirt set ablaze by your shared body heat.

"Next time, wear something that has easier access. Or better yet… maybe nothing at all or I'll be forced to rip it off." A piercing set of eyes attempt to glare into yours that roll back delightfully despite what's likely some snark ends up sounding all jumbled. "Oh yes, there will be a next time, sweetheart. I have to train this cunt to yearn for my cock — and you don't think you'll get it that easily, right?"

Joshua chuckles darkly knowing you can't reply. But liking to be full of surprises, you relax your upper jaw while his fingers trail across your pelvis and close your lips around the ones in your mouth. Suckling and swirling once the tension in them relaxes despite the naughty thought of biting. That doesn't eliminate the occasional graze of your teeth as a threat, responding to his words in your own way.

"Just look at yourself, slobbering all over… bet you suck cock like a champ. And prolly like it real messy. How well-trained you'd look trying to balance on these pointed heels while I fuck that bratty mouth."

You moan at the visual he's painted in your head.

"That's right, darling." There's a mean pinch to your clit followed by the man's groan at the ruined fabric squelching between his fingertips and how the covered little nub was already begging for friction. "Now tell me how long your cunt's been warming up and soaking these drenched panties?"

"Since the beginning…" you admit once he's freed your sore mouth and chooses to bully your breasts next. "When you looked at me."

He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side and petting at the bare slippery folds. Just able to barely see a small glimpse of where his actions play with your lower body in the mirror. At least your expressions make up for what he misses seeing.

"Aw, this soft pussy started drooling the minute I laid eyes on you? While I was imagining all the things I could do to these tits," the hand on one of them palms at the rounded flesh hard. "This ass," his pelvis grinds in a slow circle against it. "Mhm, and of course, this hidden gem."

At that, a thumb brutally rubs at your clit while plunging a finger inside the warm, wet walls that eagerly pulse around it. You weren't wrong about how good the digit would feel inside, the length and stretch of its bony knuckle feeling good enough to substitute as a mini-dick when Joshua starts a slow and methodical pace with it.

"Thought about having you spread out in the backseat of my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, you'd look like a vision laying across its leather seats. And the best thing? No one can see inside so you'll get your much desired privacy while being right out in the open."

Then he's adding another finger, longer than the first. And finally one more with an additional push in and out of the others. Clearly his experience on how to work a pussy is more than helpful. Alternating between stuffing your hole full of all three or changing up the pace and number each turn.

And of course, your chest is attended to as well. Both nipples tugged in iterations to match the rhythm of each finger spearing into your cunt, the pendant of your necklace bouncing in time. Without fail, he hits the bundle of nerves with a deadly precision that has you going slack against him.

"Maybe we should do that 'cause," he mumbles in your ear, "this filthy hole is awfully good at convincing me to spoil its owner like no one else. Let's see if it can tell me how much it'll want me to fill it up one day."

Your ears ring with the devastating screams of white noise at the sudden stop. The moans you were letting out trail off into a dissatisfied growl. His hand falls away from your upper body while the one in between your legs merely sits nice and snug, still inside but not moving. Far too relaxed, limp even.

"Joshua!"

"C'mon, weren't you listening? Convince me."

"Fuck you," is what you spit out, glaring at the challenging and impossibly smug reflection of the menace behind you.

"You didn't say fuck off, so… I'm waiting."

Another check at his watch like he's bored infuriates you enough to move your hips. Whining at how his fingers fail to stiffen and only follow your pitiful motions back and forth. Out of protest, you reach behind and take a harsh hold of the hard length you're able to grab.

"Watch it, darling!" Joshua flinches and the way his cock twitches dulls the venomous words that come next. "Or I'll leave you here all needy and by yourself, waiting for some other pathetic dick to hop onto in order to satiate just a little bit of this wet and slutty pussy's behaviors."

Well, that idea doesn't appeal to you whatsoever so you lean on the sink with a huff to do what needs done. It's a struggle to stay balanced on your heels while grabbing at his wrist but a small part of you knows he won't let you fall, a bicep supporting under your breasts. Revenge comes sweetly by digging your nails into the tense muscle of his forearm and leaving scratch marks that have him hissing.

And now you know for sure — despite the doctor's incredibly huge ego and big talk, Joshua Hong's no better than a painslut.

"Hah," you breathe out and start to slowly rock your hips. "Disrespectfully, go to hell."

Ignoring the abrasive insult — because he's a demon anyways — Joshua focuses on the wet suctioning sound growing louder the faster you move. The feeling of your tits and necklace hitting his arm to the beat of your hip bounces and enjoying the view of how his fingers disappear beyond the jiggle of your asscheeks. Up into the tight heat of velvety walls as you force his hand to behave and serve your needs like one of your dildos, though they've never been this uncooperative.

"That's it. Yeah, there we go… just like that. Go ahead and make yourself cum riding my fingers, beautiful. Uh-huh, now who's using me like a little whore to get off?"

You're already losing yourself. Waiting for that rising wave to crest because despite his annoying mouth, Joshua's fingers are more than skilled enough to hurl you into a delightful climax. As long as nothing interrupts it.

"Answer me — or I'll make you choke yourself."

"Mhm…"

He likes seeing how your face contorts, moans getting louder. It's too addicting which is why he growls out, "Do it."

It's a feat to let go of the sink but the reward is to move his arm around your bra-line to your throat, making his hand envelope it. The visual in the mirror is depraved — limbs all wrapped and tangled with each other — and your half-closed eyes taunt the searing gaze in the mirror, repeating his words right back.

"Why not do it yourself, Doctor?"

"Are you some sort of succubus or what?" He spits out the question like it's the germs on the toilet seat next to you. Freeing himself momentarily from the grip of your hand and your cunt, the man's at least nice enough to assuage the pissed off whine with a consoling lick up your neck and tugs impatiently at your pants. "Take these off."

"Go fuck yourself," you mutter darkly with half the mind to walk out of there. But you do as he says, quickly shimmying them off while your clit buzzes and twitches angrily at the neglect of stimulation again.

Joshua's eyes don't look away, his hands steadying your hips and your pussy aching when you hear how he slowly slurps on his fingers to clean them. Once you step back into your heels, he throws the jeans over his shoulder.

"Careful with the phone," you threaten.

Joshua snorts and bends over to secure a strap for you — sucking harshly on the skin of your thigh as a "you're welcome" but pulling away before your hands can tangle in his hair and keep him down there.

"Wrong thing to say to someone who likes broken and expensive things. Shouldn't you be warning me not to break something else?" Suddenly, your other shoe dangles precariously off your foot when he uses a strong hand to lift and support your leg onto the sink's surface. "Like this poor pussy?"

The straining burn in your muscles and the added chill of the porcelain is all alleviated by harsh rubbing at the tender skin of your entrance. Middle and pointer finger eagerly prying sloppy pussy lips apart once again.

"Ah, but I might enjoy that."

A clear glob of arousal drips from your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. Joshua leers hungrily past your shoulder at the mirror's erotic display of your exposed cunt and the wetness shining under the buzz of the bathroom's fluorescent lights.

"Dirty and yet it's such a pretty little jewel. Sparkling and glistening so, so lovely that I can't wait to watch it shatter while playing with it."

Finally, all three fingers from before work in tandem to scissor repeatedly inside of your tight warmth without forgiveness. This time, the devil has nothing but good intentions to send you over the peak of pleasure. His eyes can't stop feasting on the raunchy way your greedy hole gobbles up his fingers. The loud squelches accompanying his motions echo around the small enclosed space, mixing with the warm breath hitting the side of his cheek from your gasping moans.

Joshua thinks it's mighty cute how puffy your outer pussy lips grow and struggle to spread around the thick and long digits shoved inside plus the onslaught of his thumb bullying your clit. The angle shows the slightest bulge of them relentlessly stroking the bundle of nerves that has your leg twitching from the sheer pleasure.

He focuses on bringing you there, all on what you're feeling rather than his own pleasure because you have the most convincing cunt ever that deserves to be ravaged by a large, girthy cock. A shame it has to wait because he cannot give in so easily. But you're definitely a piece of work. Joshua likes that.

"Gonna keep making a mess on my fingers, darling? Leave 'em all sweet and wet enough for me to wrap around my dick later and pretend it's your pussy instead."

You'll be the death of him when your head rolls into the crease of his neck, drool dampening the skin as you mouth senselessly at the vein protruding beneath. There's a sharp sting — the certain kind he hasn't felt in a very long time. A telltale warning of a hickey, the beautiful colors of red and purple already rushing to the surface and decorated by little nips of your teeth after you soothe the pain with your tongue.

No one marks up Joshua Hong. Sure, he's had lipstick stains before but those can easily be swiped off with a handkerchief and washed away in the shower. He can't help but smirk though, knowing when he eventually wipes your sticky lipgloss off, something of you will remain for a bit.

However you can't go without a little punishment. If you can even call it that when he returns to wrapping a hand around your throat. Anyone else who dared to leave a mark would be walked away from. But you — you simply lose enough oxygen causing your head to spin more pleasantly than it already is.

And you claw at his forearm, scratching it up ten times more to serve as a further reminder for Joshua to look at. You're by no means urging him to stop but to earnestly keep going while simultaneously searching for something — anything — to anchor you down as you float into an almost unconscious state of pure ecstasy.

It's by far the strongest, most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced. Becoming nothing but a bag of bones in his arms as your walls pulsate around his fingers and the fruitful expenditure of your release drips down his wrist.

He stays in that position, unable to move anyways with the vice-like grip of your spasming cunt cramping his fingers. Instead, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible by squeezing and releasing the pressure on your throat over and over again. The true picture of debauchery — heaven and sin mixed in one — and he kind of wishes for a third arm to take a photo for a keepsake.

Everything in your body aches deliciously. You feel both refreshed and exhausted when you finally come to and even then Joshua supports your weak body as you try to regain control over your wits and whereabouts.

"Pants," you croak out and wave him off when he tries to gentlemanly assist. Which he still kind of has to when you almost topple face-first on legs that feel like jelly. "Bra."

Joshua's a little less enthusiastic to hand that over, bitter sarcasm lacing his words. "Wow, won't even grant me a souvenir?"

"Boo-hoo," you gripe back and pretend not to notice the eyes glued to the way your tits bounce when adjusting the garment around them. Turning to look in the mirror, you work on dulling the "just got fingered in the bathroom" appearance. "It's not like you need one and it seems even less likely you'll keep anything from a stranger, especially lingerie."

"Hm, I like how well you read me."

"Of course you do, fuels that large privileged ego. Don't get used to it. But, want me to do something about that one though?"

He coughs at the rather suggestive insult, shifting his pants and shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the messy boner you're referencing. "Guess I did a great job if you're begging for it already."

"Oh, for goodness sake I'm being courteous."

"Cute."

Joshua admits it almost like he's startled by the words that escape his mouth. Further surprising both of you with a clumsy, sloppy kiss to the cheek when he leans over to fasten the top button of your blouse. As if embarrassed, he's already halfway out the door when he remembers to mention, "I'll be thinking of you darling, look forward to your call!"

You're left staring at the saliva spot reflected on your cheek in shock. And then, you wipe it off with the rest of the accumulated sweat to make yourself a bit more presentable and then head back to the club as naturally as possible.

Dr. Hong is seemingly nowhere in sight as expected. You figure it would be hard to return with a raging boner despite the low lighting and he probably left through the back exit to likely jerk off in his ridiculously expensive car. The visual of white ropes of cum streaming past the steel band of the Royal Oak around his wrist haunts your mind, making your aching core buzz to life again and your sticky panties even grosser.

Out of pure spite, you hope he stains his shirt too.

Luckily, Seungkwan is still at the bar when you wobble over in search of him. He shouts your name in mock shock, assessing your appearance with pursed lips and eyeballing your figure dubiously.

"You look like hell."

"Yeah?" you laugh it off as nonchalantly as possible, unaware of the phone in your back pocket lighting up with a returned text message from a newly saved number and a scandalous picture attached. "I just got back."

#ez.creates #svthub #joshua hong smut #joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #hong joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #if this flops so does the hong schlong #i fist fought this joshua in the parking lot and WON #svt.smut

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dear-bunnyboo · 11 months

Note

Hi I absolutely love your writing! 💗 I don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but I had an idea for a Jack Hughes imagine based on the song “Only Angel” by Harry Styles. Maybe friends to FWB. One night they hookup and he’s cocky and thinks he’ll have to teach her so much but, “ it turns out she’s a devil in the sheets”

hey love! thank you so much 🤍 i do take requests and it’s always open and you just gave me the biggest inspiration with your request. i am simply obsessed with this song hope you enjoy this, it’s hot hot hot.

inspired by only angel by Harry Styles, i recommend listening to the song while reading ;)

you guys need holy water after this one i am not kidding 🥵

❝𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 || 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒 18+❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jack swore he met an angel the second he laid eyes on his best friend but after years of friendship he realizes he doesn’t know everything about you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content, smut, dirty talk, cursing, sexual tension, jealousy, possessiveness, friends with benefits relationship, friends to fwb to lovers? sex, oral, slight degradation, spanking, hair pulling, choking, spitting, raw fucking (wrap it before you tap it folks), kinks, filth, filth, and more filth (+ some fluffy and cute moments)

If you are below the age of 18 and or you are not comfortable with the warnings above, please don’t read this!

𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Angel

It’s what Jack would call you ever since he met you.

It happened when your family moved next to Hughes family, 7 year old Jack first laid his eyes on 7 year old you who was hiding behind your father’s legs, your grip tight— Jack spotted the curly pigtails you had your hair styled in, two pink ribbons decorated them both.

Jack then moved to your face. He watched your big doe eyes moved back and forth from his parents and yours who were too lost in their own conversation.

“This is our daughter, Y/N. She just turned seven a month ago—say hi, darling.” Your mother ushered you.

You slowly looked up from your feet and moved away from your hiding place behind your father’s legs— you were sporting an all pink tutu dress to match your little pink ribbons.

“Hello” a small timid voice came out of your mouth making the adults chuckle in awe.

“Hi, Y/N! These are my sons; Quinn is the oldest, Jack is your age, and Luke the youngest.”

Quinn and Luke simply said a polite “hello” just as shy as you were.

“Hi, I’m Jack! I like your dress.” Jack said moving closer to you.

Redness spread across your cheeks at the compliment and at the attention of everyone who were now watching you and Jack.

“T-thank you” you mustered out.

“Mom, doesn’t she look like an angel?” Jack turned to his mom who was gushing along with the rest of their parents.

“She does, sweetie.” Said his mom.

“That’s so sweet of you, Jack.” Your mom cooed.

Jack nodded at the approval and smiled at you again.

“Angel. That’s what I’ll call you.”

You and Jack’s relationship has always been the same.

After years and years the dynamic never changed.

Jack was always Jack— the confident and cocky one out of the two. While you were always “the angel” as Jack would have put it.

You and Jack were inseparable, in school he would always wait for you so you both can go to recess or lunch together. He would defend you from the boys who would pull on your pigtails or ribbons.

“I’ll tell the teacher about them. Don’t worry, angel.” Jack said as he tightened your ribbons on your hair after they were loosened by those boys.

“They probably were just teasing, Jacky.” You said with a shrug not at all bothered by those boys.

An angel that’s what you were— some people would call you naive or stupid but you were nowhere near naive or stupid, you were the smartest in the class, always on the top— you just didn’t like conflict and prefer giving people the benefit of the doubt.

Jack always thought you were too sweet for this world.

He would protect you from the people who just look at you funny.

Once you both got into high school he would scare away the guys who would try to get close with you.

Saying the same thing he always says when you question him about it “they don’t deserve someone like you, angel.”

You would support Jack with all his endeavors. All the school hockey tournaments you would watch, you would always be the one with the loudest cheer and the biggest smile whenever he would return.

Jack in return would watch your ballet recitals, watching you in awe.

When he got in the USA development program for hockey you were the most ecstatic.

When you got your first boyfriend he can’t understand the feeling he felt in his chest but he pushed them aside for you— you were happy and that was enough for him.

Then your first heartbreak.

The said boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend had the audacity to cheat on you with a bottle blonde bimbo from the cheer team.

You cried on his shoulder and clung onto him— promising yourself you would never put yourself through that again.

You did the same for him whenever he had worries, or whenever he lost a game, and whenever he would break up with one of his girlfriends. You were supporting of your best friend but that doesn’t stop the green eyed monster from creeping up the surface.

You were there when Jack got drafted first pick. You were there for every milestone of his career, on his first NHL game, his first NHL goal, his first NHL injury— you were there, as he was for you.

You’re each others’ biggest fans.

Once Jack moved to New Jersey the distance was the biggest problem. You both have not been far from each other for long, it was an adjustment but you two always made it work.

You would meet each other and hang out like you always did. You met his friends, his teammates— his friends found you adorable, how you still blushed over a dirty joke one of them made and how cute you looked in your favorite sundresses and little ribbons.

When you got an opportunity to work at the biggest ballet company at New Jersey, you just knew that it was meant to be.

As cliche as it sounded in your head, you knew you and Jack would find your way towards each other again and once Jack found out he immediately started looking for apartments for you— he wanted you to stay with him but you strongly opposed, you didn’t want to intrude his roommate Ty’s boundaries.

Everything was back to the way it was— like it was back home.

Endless movie marathons after Jack’s practice and morning skate, watching his games, Jack watching your recitals, Jack being your honorary ‘bag holder’ whenever you went out shopping, and parties whenever they end another hockey season.

Which brings you to today.

It was one of the end of the season parties the Devils have with friends, families, and the WAGS who all mutually decided you were a part of them no matter how hard you reiterate you were just Jack’s best friend—they would always giggle and brush you off, not believing one bit.

You can say it was the peak of the party. The music was getting louder, the people were getting rowdier and drunk.

You were very much sober.

You told Jack that you would be the designated driver so that he can celebrate properly for his achievements.

So here you were in the middle of the dance floor after being dragged by one of the wives who was continuously praising your movements.

“You know how to move those hips, girl damn.” She gushes from behind you.

“I dance for a living. It’ll be bad if I was terrible.” You joked.

Growing up ballet was your first love but you would join hiphop, jazz, and even contemporary workshops— you just loved to dance.

“Don’t look now but your man is burning holes at the back of your head.” She giggled whispering in your ear.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Jack is not my man.”

“I didn’t say Jack but okay.” She smirked before nodding towards the direction behind you.

Turning around you were met with Jack Hughes in all his glory standing with Nico and Ty as they tried to talk to him but his eyes were trained on you, a bottle of beer on his hand— the same one he has been nursing the entire night.

“I said it before and I’ll say it again, that man wants you. End everyone’s misery and just get with him already.”

“He doesn’t want me like that.” You shrugged maintaining eye contact with your best friend who refused to back down.

“Y/N, you are a smart woman, don’t be dumb.” She said exasperated.

You couldn’t even respond back to her because she was right— you were not dumb, you read people the best and you knew for a fact that Jack’s constant flirting and possessiveness was not because he was ‘being a good friend.’

As good as you were at reading people, you were also good at playing dumb.

You brushed off every lingering touch and looks, the flirting because you didn’t want to be wrong.

You hated being wrong.

You didn’t want to assume he wanted you.

That would not only ruin your ego but your friendship with Jack as well.

Jack’s figure staggering towards you broke you out of your thoughts not even realizing your friend backing away from you before whispering, “Lock in that man, girly.”

“Hey, you.” He smiles down at you.

“Hi, Jacky.” You smile back at him

He placed himself in front of you chugging the last remnants of his drink before setting it down on the bar before wrapping his arms around you, caging you between his arms.

“It’s getting late, the others are starting to leave. Do you want to go, angel?” he asks slowly swaying us side to side.

“Yeah, I miss my bed.” You said seriously looking up at his baby blues.

Jack chuckled as he removed his jacket, placing it on your bare shoulders before escorting you out of the bar.

You and Jack promptly said your goodbyes to the guys and girls who were still there before driving off in Jack’s car— who insisted on driving since he wasn’t at all drunk.

You both were sitting in comfortable silence as Jack drove to your apartment which was not far from his. Jacks left hand on the wheel while the right was on your thigh which was normal for you two.

“Can I stay with you tonight? I’m pretty sure Ty brought a girl back at the apartment and I’m not trying to be there for whatever the hell they are planning to do.” He grimaced making you laugh at the face he was making.

“You know you can stay at my place whenever you want, Jacky, we can even watch Netflix.” You proposed as you turned to him watching his side profile.

Jack caught you eyeing him and gave you a smirk and a squeeze on the thigh.

“And chill?”

“What?” Here you were again, acting dumb.

“You said we’ll watch Netflix, is the chill part included?” Jack teased as he parked his car in front of your apartment complex.

“Yeah we can chill.” You giggled.

Stop acting dumb.

“You do know what Netflix and chill means, right?” He squinted his eyes at you.

“Of course i do.” You said nonchalantly before opening the car door, racing towards your apartment with Jack in tow.

You were walking in haste, your cheeks red, not bothering to even look at Jack who was right on your heels.

You head to the empty elevator, Jack stoping the doors closing, leaving the two of you alone in the elevator with thick tension looming around you two.

“You do?” Jack ask in doubt.

“Do what?” You blinked up at him.

Dumb

“You said you know what Netflix and chill means.” Jack pushes as we walk out the elevator, headed towards my apartment.

You jiggled the keys on the keyhole, opening your apartment for the both of you to go in.

After Jack walks in, his eyes still staring at you like you were his prey, you met his eyes and took off his jacket that he made you wear and placed it in the coat hanger.

Fuck it

“Yes, I know what Netflix and chill means, Jack.” I sighed.

“Yeah?” He closed up on me, his breath now hitting your face— the scent of beer lingering.

Fuck it

“Yeah” you managed to breathe out as Jack continued to back me up against the wall.

“Are you sure, angel?” He asked gently caressing the side of your face, tucking the stray hairs away.

Fuck it

“Yes, please.” You begged.

Jack’s eyes darkened with lust as he lifted his hands to cup your face in them— his eyes darting all over your face memorizing every little detail about you.

As his eyes moved from your body to your lips, his eyes darted back to your eyes before devouring your lips in his. Jack’s lips were soft and tasted like alcohol, he was gentle and slow as both your lips fought for dominance.

“I’ve always fantasize about doing this, angel.” He mutters against your lips, pecking them over and over again before crashing them down together again. He nipped the bottom of your lip, releasing a small gasp from you before he shoved his tongue against yours.

You could feel a whole zoo inside your stomach, you were tingling everywhere especially between your legs making you squeeze them tighter.

Jack’s had you against the wall as his hands lingered all over your body, his lips tracing wet kisses against your neck, peppering them with licks and bites.

“You smell so good, angel.” He smirks at your flustered face.

“My sweet angel, we can go slow. Don’t be scared, I’ll teach you everything you need to know— I’ll take good care of you.” He teases as he started to unzip the back of your dress with one hand, his lips marking your neck.

There it was. Jack being his cocky and overconfident self— you loved that about him but maybe it was time to show him that you are not the angel he claims to be.

Fuck it

“Fuck me, Jack.” You demanded.

Jack froze, his hands stopped midway, pulling his head away from your neck.

“What?” Jack ask you as if you grew three heads.

Fuck it

It was like a switch flicked inside your head.

Your eyes darkened and narrowed at him like he was your prey— the same way he looked at you not long ago.

You took one step closer to him and continued to unzip your dress where Jack left off— the little black dress slowly fell on the ground puddling around your feet. Unraveling your red lace set that you had underneath, Jack is still frozen watching your every move, his eyes trailing on your body, shocked by your sudden behavior.

You wrapped you arms around him, watching him with heat in your eyes before nuzzling your face in his neck licking and marking him like he did to you before landing on his right ear.

“Fuck me, Jacky.” You whimpered understanding at that moment that Jack had a kink for you being submissive to him.

Jack got out of his trance and gripped your hips tight, pulling you against him— his hardness rubbing against you.

“What has gotten into you?” He ask still confused at the sudden turn of events.

“Well, I was hoping you would get into me.” You joked as you unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest as you do so.

“Angel?” He demanded.

“You don’t like me like this?” You pouted acting dumb again knowing damn well he did.

“I do, baby. Fuck, I do— it’s just a shock to see you acting like this.” Jack groaned, as he watches you maintain eye contact as you slowly kneel before him.

“The me you knew was your best friend, Jacky. Think of it this way— we just reached a new level in our relationship. You want me, I want you. New level means a new upgrade, you’ll still get to see the ‘me’ who was your best friend but you also get to unlock a version of me only a few have seen.” You explained as you palmed him against his jeans, watching grow with your touch.

“What version is that?” He muttered eyes still looking down at you as you unbuttoned his pants.

“The version you get to fuck.”

With that you pulled his fully erected cock out and licked him like a lollipop.

Jack braces his hand against the wall behind you as you shoved his cock inside your mouth. Your head moving up and down as you moaned against him.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it, right there, angel.” Jack moans his hand gripping your hair helping you bob your head up and down his shaft.

Going down on Jack deeper as you choked on his cock before pulling away.

You wiped the drool dripping down your lips, eyes staring right at the brunette before spitting on his cock.

Your soft hand tightening around him as you jerked him up and down— your other hand skillfully removing your bra, revealing your perky breasts.

“Goddamn, Y/N. You are fucking stunning, baby— get up here.” He commanded as he pulled you up in your feet before hoisting you up.

You wrapped your legs around him, your arms doing the same around his neck as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

Jack walked you two towards your room and as he was doing so you were grinding your hips up and down making Jack spank you hard on the ass.

“God, your fucking desperate for this cock huh? Your a bad fucking angel, yeah?” He throws you on the bed before slowly crawling on top of you.

“Jacky baby, please. I need you in me, please fuck me. I want you so bad.” You mewled watching as Jack removed your panties with his teeth, revealing your bare pussy.

“Yeah? You want me, baby? Want me to fuck you?”

Jack was stroking his own cock and made you watch as he watches you unravel.

“Please, Jacky. Fuck me hard and raw.” That must did it for Jack cause pounced into you his cock teasing your entrance.

“You sure, baby?” He asks softly. Jack ever the gentleman always making sure you were okay.

“I’m on birth control. Please, baby— I’m so wet for you.”

Jack went in and bottomed out inside of you making you both groan from the feeling.

“You’re so tight, angel.” Jack moaned out before slowly moving in and out, eliciting a euphoric feeling out of you two.

“Shit, baby. Ugh! m’so full, you feel so good, baby— harder.” You gripped onto Jack, your nails digging against his back as he rocked in you.

Jack grabbed both your legs before splitting you open with his cock.

“You feel that, baby? That’s what you do to me. You’re such a fucking good girl for me.”

Jack was in cloud nine as were you. He flipped you around pushing you in all fours as he gripped your hips, entering you once more and pounding into you.

The sound of clapping and moans filled your room.

“Jacky, fuck just like that! Right there! Faster!” You screamed backing up on him as he gripped your neck pinning you up against him as he continued to pound you from behind.

“Yeah? That feel good baby? Yeah. You’re mine.” With his hands on gripping your neck, Jack angled your head to face his as he placed another wet kiss on your mouth.

As he pulled away a string of saliva connected from both of your lips was seen giving you another idea. With you head still angled towards Jack, you opened your mouth with your tongue out looking at your best friend straight in the eyes.

Jack understood immediately and gripped your cheeks before leaning closer and spitting in your mouth, still looking at him as you swallowed.

“Fuck! You’re a dirty fucking girl, huh? My dirty fucking angel.” He roared as he fucked you harder his thrust getting sloppy which means that he is close.

“I’m yours, Jacky. Please— gonna cum, please let me cum.” You moaned as your eyes rolled back from the intense feeling.

“Cum with me, baby. Cum.” Jack groaned as he thrusted harder a few more times before coming inside you making you undone as well.

As you both finished, you both fell onto your bed. Jack resting with one arm behind his head and the other caressing your bare back as you laid on top of his chest.

“You were so good, baby.” Jack coos as he places kisses on your head.

“Mm, you were too.” You mumbled tired and sore, slowly feeling the effects of your extracurricular activities.

“Who knew my angel was a devil in between the sheets.” Jack let out a throaty chuckle before the realization dawning upon him.

“Wait– you said only a few people got to see this version of you. You mean?” Jack said darkly.

“That I’ve have fucked other people? Yeah. They were just one night stands, Jack don’t go psycho on me now. You don’t see me complaining whenever you had a new girlfriend.” You sassed at him.

“Only I get to see that version of you from now on. You’re mine, angel. Mine.” He hugs me tighter against his chest.

“Yeah? Well you have to unlock another level for me to be yours.” You said planting the idea in his head.

“Does that new level give me the girlfriend version of you?” He plays along.

“I don’t know, you’ll have to find out I guess.” You shrugged before closing your eyes to get some sleep, a smirk littered on your face as Jack watches you amused.

“I’ll guess I’ll find out tomorrow then.” He says out loud and clear making you smile before placing another kiss on my forehead.

“My angel.”

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