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irisintheafterglow · 5 months

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in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers.

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being.

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile.

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter.

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back.

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon.

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello.

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake.

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper.

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you.

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.”

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine.

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.”

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.”

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.”

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n

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feelbokkie · 8 months

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Sorry, Right Number | Chapter 5

pairing: idol!Chan x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff,strangers to lovers, pen pals/hidden identity, forbidden love, celebrity romance

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing

summary: Being an idol can be lonely and isolating. After one fun and adventurous night at a bar, Chan decides to text the girl he met the night before. Except, she gave him the the wrong number?

word count: 1,648

screenshot count: 12

taglist: closed

previous | masterlist | next

You stand anxiously in line, waiting for your turn to meet Stray Kids. You, Sun Hee, and Hana had just finished watching the sound check with the rest of the fans who had actually paid hundreds of dollars for this moment. You have to remember to thank Topher properly later. Almost every part about today hasn't felt real and being six feet away from your favorite group is the most unrealistic thing.

You rub your hand down Sun Hee's back, reminding her to calm down. Despite how nervous you are, you're surprisingly calm for someone about to meet the people responsible for your reason for being. They're just men who happened to be famous. You keep reminding yourself of that as you wait. You watch as the group before you say their goodbyes after taking a group picture. You and your friends are the last group for the meet and greet, which bodes well for you, it means that this once in a lifetime moment.

The boys break off into three groups. Lee Know, Han, and I.N in the first group. Changbin, Seungmin, and Hyunjin are in the second group while Felix and Chan made up the last group. The three of you separate, heading to the groups where your respective biases were first.

"Hi!" Felix greets with a big grin, he's been smiling the entire time the meet and greets have been going on, you have no idea how he's doing it.

"Hello," You say quietly, suddenly starstruck at the fact that you were talking to your bais and your current wrecker. Chan stares at you with a half smile, mouth slightly agape. He looks how you feel inside.

They're prettier in person, almost like the camera can't pick up every inch of their beauty.

"What's your name?" Felix asks, nudging his leader with his shoulder.

“Y/n,” You smile.

“That’s a pretty name, it suits you.” Felix smiles.

“Yeah, you’re really pretty. I-I mean your name! Your name is really pretty.” Chan stammers.

“Thank you, I got it for my birthday,” You giggle, mentally cringing at your own joke.

Chan lets out a laugh that is definitely way too loud for the joke you just told. Felix’s smile drops as he lets out a deep sigh and puts his head in his hands. The other boys look over to see what could have happened to their leader.

“Sorry about him, he’s a lot stupider in person. A real himbo if you will,” Felix looks at you with a Cheshire cast smile as he tries to explain Chan’s laugh. Chan glares at the younger boy.

“Is that so? I was going to give this to Chan to hold onto, but I guess I should give it to you, Felix?” You dig in your pocket and pull out an envelope, handing it to Felix.

“I’ll hold onto it. He’s lost the keys to so many hotel rooms, that I’ve lost track. Wouldn’t want him to lose something as precious as this.” Chan winks, taking the envelope out of Felix’s hand and sliding it into his back pocket. Your heart skips a beat. You remind yourself that it’s fan service, that he flirts with all of his other fans like he does on Bubble so there’s no need for you to get all delusional.

“It’s just a few letters. Not much. Just one big letter to all of you and small notes for each of you. Just a thank you.” You say quickly.

“You say ‘just’ a lot.” Felix teases.

“I’m jus—The letter isn’t as important as Chan is making it out to be. That’s what I’m trying to get at.” You curse yourself for the heat rising to your face.

"Cute," Chan mutters under his breath, causing you to blush more. A staff member comes up behind Chan and Felix and whispers something in their ears before moving on to the next group.

"Looks like we have to rotate now. But it was nice meeting you, Y/n." Felix smiles.

"It was a pleasure to meet you two, too. Good luck out there tonight, I'll be cheering you on." You smile.

"I'll hold you to that," Chan smirks. You quickly wave them both goodbye and move over to Changbin, Seungmin, and Hyunjin.

***

Despite knowing the entire setlist, actually hearing and experiencing it for yourself feels different. You always joke about injecting their music directly into your veins, but the concert feels like you're doing just that. You and your friends were lucky enough to get barricade spots, putting you directly in the boys' line of sight.

Chan, for whatever reason, has been hovering on your side of the stage for most of the night, only returning to one of the other sides to interact with other fans. But whenever he is on your side, his eyes always seem to find you. He was even in front of you during Charmer, which wasn't even on the set list for any of the other shows on this tour.

"How's everyone doing tonight? Are we having fun?" Han asks into the mic. They had just finished performing S-Class and a few of the members disappeared off the stage.

"I'm having fun!" Seungmin replies from backstage.

"We know you're having fun, Seungmin. You've been hopping around the stage all night." Hyunjin quips.

"I think we all need to calm down a bit, yeah? Save some of that energy for later." Chan adds from the backstage area.

"Are you that old that you're tired already, old man?" Seungmin laughs.

Chan, Seungmin, Changbin, and Lee Know come back from the backstage area carrying stools, four in total. Set the stools in the middle of the stage and join the others on the side.

"No, I just think that it's a beautiful night for some stargazing," Chan adds, throwing his arm around Seungmin's shoulder. The other members share confused looks while I.N looks up, Felix sees and looks up.

"Hyung? We're inside, what are you talking about?" I.N asks.

"The stars, the shining stars!" Chan repeats.

"That's me?" Felix asks confused as to what Chan could be getting at.

"That's not even the right lyric! It's 'The most special star, star, star, star, star, star. The odd onе, that's me.' You call yourselves Stray Kids" Changbin yells.

"We just did S-Class?" Lee Know now questions.

"No, the stars. From Stay." Chan tries to explain, but you understand perfectly what he is trying to get at.

"He's really lost his mind." Seungmin jokes.

"Oh, are you talking about the light sticks?" Hyunjin figures out.

"Yes! Hyunjin, you're officially out of baboracha." Chan jumps in his place out of excitement.

"I'm still lost. It's our symbol for our lightstick a compass?" Han asks, scratching his head.

"You'll see in a second. Stay, can you do me a favor and change your lights to white? And if you don't have a lightstick, your phone cameras will work just as well. Just for this next song." Chan explains as he ushers the boys to the stools.

You pull out your phone and sync your light stick to white, keeping your phone out to take a quick picture of the stars as everyone does the same. Your body freezes as everyone gets quiet and the melody to Hero's Soup starts to play.

You quickly turn around to face the stage to find Chan staring directly at you again. Your heart leaps in your chest. It's abnormal for them to play Hero's Soup during a concert. You're not even entirely sure they've ever performed it outside of radio shows. But something in your chest tightens as you ponder about the events of the night. Tonight has certainly not been a normal Stray Kids concert. You've never been to one, but you've watched enough live streams and recordings to know that. The boys haven't been interacting like they normally do. Chan has been hovering on the side of the stage that you know he shouldn't have been on in moments when he shouldn't have been. His reaction at the meet and greet. The way your eyes have constantly met like he's checking to see if you're having a good time. The way he's been performing harder than he normally does. The fact that he called the flashlight moment stars and the song being sung is your favorite. A song that the group hasn't talked about in years. And how you only told one other person in the world your favorite concert moment and Stray Kids song. The way Chan is looking at you right now as if to tell you that this song--this moment is for you.

But it's ridiculous to think that Topher--your Topher--could have anything to do with this. His only connection with Stray Kids is that he likes the group and happens to share the same name as the leader. Right? But then you think about the strange look you got from all the staff members today during the meet and greet. And how annoyed the staff members at the JYPE building looked when you went to pick up the tickets. And the strange hours Topher would message you back at times. None of the times he would message you were consistent. And how you were even able to get the ticket from Topher, who apparently won them from a contest you knew nothing about despite being deep in the fandom.

But you're just being delusional, right? There's no possible way that you were talking to Bang Chan for months. Right?

"You okay, Y/n?" Sun Hee asks, bumping into you to get your attention.

"Yeah," You quietly reply. You shake the idea out of your mind just as the song ends. You try to put the ridiculous thought out of your head until the concert is over at the very least.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist; closed

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@ventusnonexpectat @kibs-and-bits @sanriiolino @majorlymismanaged @s00buwu @badgergirlsblog @rag-iii @lanatheawesome @143lix @jaiuneamesolitaiire @veedoesntknaur @brain-empty-only-draken @jaydebow @allaboutyej8 @skz-streamer @weird-bookworm @spearb-99 @marked-unknown @alyszaen @thesassy-mia @kalopsian-thoughts @gruszkasmierci @aslou @chlodavids @greyyeti @thepeopleintheback @hanjiies @jihanniee @skzhoes @imsiriuslyreal

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fillinforlater · 9 months

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Monday of Appreciation: Part 100

Hello everyone, Smite here!

100

Let's celebrate this big number and even bigger achievement with a massive a mount of stories that I have compiled over a bunch of weeks now. 10 in total by 9 writers including all kinds of idols (most are meta, sorrry (not sorry)).

However, first off, I want to say thank you to the interest in support this series has gathered. Thank you all very much for liking and reblogging and sometimes even commenting, it means the world to me. Most of the times, I regard this series as a big success.

I need to say it again though that this is the final regular MoA post. For 100 weeks straight I have gathered between 3 and 11 stories from our community, the only reason/motivation being: Appreciation to those that I really like and want to support. Sadly sometimes, MoA has been seen as something like an seal of approval or rather the "not-inclusion" as a seal of disapproval. This has never been the case or my intention.

With that said, MoA is not dead and will never be dead until I'm dead. New parts will randomly pop up and I will gush over another way idol X has been... written. Until then, stay awesome and feel free to go back to the older parts of this series.

These are the final 10 stories on the regular series of Monday of Appreciation:

-1-

@gangplanksorenji: Do you think you are forgiven? ft. Sakura

Reading smut like this and knowing it was written by Orenji of all people still makes my mind boggle. This is unfiltered smut, set up perfectly (especially with the homage to LSFM's latest comeback). All in all great, especially with the non-focus then back-focus on Sakura.

-2-

@coldfanbou: Culmination ft. Somi

This fic is the finale of the ultimate Somi-bimbo-self-sex-slave series. No, I'm serious, you couldn't go further if you wanted to. It also explains why OC is so hesitant to go after her. Also, NTR, but it's so over the top that it kinda flew under my radar. Somi's hotness is melting our minds, isn't it.

-3-

@lustspren: California Love ft. Soyeon, Minnie

The first time I saw these outfits, I kneeeew someone HAD to write a fic about them, either idol x idol or include an OC and oh boy, lustspren delivered. This has quite the excessive set up, all edging leading up to that hotel room scene that does it all justice. To say it with the words of Mister Smith: "That's hot."

-4-

@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 1 ft. aespa

Exquisite! Charming, funny and utterly drenched in lewdness while also shoving absurdity in your face the entire time. This perfectly encapsulates @smuttysabina's writing style. It's blunt yet still a bit teasing and I like how the descriptiveness is subtle enough to keep you on edge. Literally.

-5-

@ggidolsmuts: Xiaoting's Shouting ft. Xiaoting

This fic has a chinese version and though I cannot speak of the quality of that version, this one definitely has it. One of the many, many great stories you can find in Ddeun's masterlist. Damn, now I can't decide if I want an obedient plaything Xiaoting or a demanding loud Xiaoting (haha, Xiaothing or Loudting (I'm so funny (right?)))

-6-

@tothosewhoyearnforit: A Million Dollars ft. Karina

Ah, the great switch life. Though you might not have a million dollars (sadge), the ability to switch around your behavior to accommodate to your partners wants and needs in the moment... man that is everything. Okay, no, someone incredible hot like Karina, now that is everything. Just like the OC in the next story, I'd pay more than a million to get Karina.

-7-

@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 2 ft. Karina

Oh, look! It's the second chapter to the story we already had! This time we get the bouncy girl in the shower as she bravely strikes a deal with us. Will she succeed though? You better find out yourselves (no really, this will be in the test tomorrow).

-8-

@existslikepristin: Sowon's gig ft. Sowon

Sorry, ELP, I had to put a name on this hilarious mess of a fic. Maybe it does not really deserve a name, but I'm all for it to get one. Hell, even my name is terrible (at least it does not spoil the twist). So yeah, if y'all have like 29,4 seconds on your hand, this is the stuff for you. Damn, why do I love your writing so much?

-9-

@okaylikesmomo: Chapter 4: Sauna ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura

I love how unhinged this is if you ignore all the context and previous chapters. It makes me think if my multi-chapter series' feel this crazy if one just starts in the middle. Crazy or not, sex sex sex. Although it is okay (writing) sex, neither the writing nor the sex are just 'okay'. LSFM really is that hot and makes us crave for more steamy sex sex sex. What a mess (-.-).

-10-

@iznsfw: Above the law, (under you) ft. Tzuyu

What else can I say except: IZ GOAT?! I guess so, every angle, idea, set up and kink this incredible qt has written has worked flawlessly. I rule that you are guilty of being way too fucking good at this and sentence you to write more sentences to make your sentence longer so more sentences lead to new masterpieces. Please.

Guys, that's it. With a final bow the curtains fall. Until next time. Ciao!

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lvrcpid · 1 year

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headcannons ii - modern!au

neteyam

— he was the type of kid who did the lemonade stands as a kid, backwards e and all.

— his led lights are always set to white. he doesn’t even use the light in his room

— he definitely goes trick or treating still. no matter the fact he’s almost 6 foot. he’s gonna get him some free candy

— speaking of candy, his favorite candy is..TWIZZLERS 🤢

— if there’s one thing neteyam will do, he gonna take a deep sigh like he a stressed father of 5

— he has his caps lock on 😟

— such a mommas boy

— ‘you need help ma?’ ‘i can pick her up for you ma’

— idc what y’all say him and jake ARENT THAT CLOSE

— nete def strays away from jakes old veteran ass but the first one to use his military discount anywhere they go 💀 he’s so me

— that boy loves him some the weeknd

— die for you is his favorite song

— the type to literally hit you while laughing

lo’ak

— he’s always in some sort of pain

— ‘my back hurt’ ‘my ankle hurts’

— he was the type of kid who got caught with kik at age 12

— when he finally got his car, he got a dent in it not even an hour later

— he thinks those a.i president videos are top tier comedy

— his closet is where he records his raps 💀

— neytiri has to FIGHT with him to make him wash his favorite hoodie

— ‘MA I CAN GO ONE MORE DAY’ ‘ITS BEEN TWO MONTHS’

— under his bed is literally comparable to a landfill. ITS SO DIRTY UNDER THERE

— when he was a kid, he ran into a wall and knocked his two front teeth out

— something tells me lo’ak is a fast eater like you could blink and his plate is CLEAR

— jake made him join jrotc 💀

kiri

— she’s def a morning person

— you can find her in her room mediating or doing yoga

— very in touch with her higher self

— she’s given herself a lot of stick and poke tattoos

— her favorite one is a heart on her finger

— shoes? hell no. crocs and slippers.

— funniest person in the family hands down

— she actually enjoys cleaning, it’s therapeutic

— the type to make twitter stans mad on purpose

— has way too much blackmail on everyone in the family

— she probably can’t dance tbh shed rather watch

— gives the MEANEST side eye to people

ao’nung

— he has facial hair (teehee)

— he probably was the type to go “boi 🫱🏽” in middle school

— he smells like irish spring ¿

— big big big sneaker head

— ‘where my hug at’ AONUNG GO TO HELL

— got that stiff athletes walk to him

— something tells me he has a letterman jacket with ‘A’ on it

— he definitely needs his license taken away. he has three tickets already

— speaking of license, his picture is his rizz. he looks so pretty in his picture

— poor baby hates eye contact, it makes him nervous

— he’s so fruity. talking bout some “POOKIE 😆”

— he’s a beast at mini golf

— da hood is his favorite roblox game. he definitely gets annoying and tells people to mic up

tsireya

— she actually believes in the tarot readings on her fyp

— she’s confident. not cocky.

— she can whoop ass. PRAY WITH HER DONT PLAY W HER

— she wants to dye her hair but she’s so scared

— she got a tattoo of a heart behind her ear behind her parents backs

— my girl loves her some astrology

— ‘WHATS YOUR RISING??’ ‘tsireya get the hell out of my room’

— she has a pet kitten named wiggles

— her lock screen is of her , lo’ak and wiggles

— she loves oreos

— her and the sims locked IN

— she’s spent at least 500 dollars on packages for the game

— she wears glasses but never wears them so she’s always squinting

— she’s a concert junkie. she’s been to almost every single nct concert she could attend

— ‘lo’ak let’s get matching silk presses’

#avatar #avatar x reader #awotw #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #sully family x reader #modern avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar headcanons #avatar x you #tuk avatar #avatar 2 #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar memes

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hinagiiku · 11 months

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when you go to a ocean with them 🐙☆

/w ✦ . * ･｡ﾟgojo , toji , sukuna

word count : 750+ words

warnings : / fluff, pet names (?) , mention of sex but doesn’t happen, fluff ᰔ gojo gets attacked

☆彡彡 g o j o s a t o r u ミミ☆

gojo would take a LOT of photos. “hey look this squid looks like megumi because he’s so gloomy! i’m gonna send it to him”. the squid would most DEFINITELY attack him as he’s taking the photo. you would laugh so hard he starts “crying” after he sends it, megumi would send him a audio recording of him laughing

he wouldn’t understand why megumi was laughing until he found out it was a live photo and it showed him getting attacked.

i feel like he would also point out if your hair got messy just to tease. “looks there’s sand in your hair!” he put it in there. "why is your hair so tangled?". he did it “honey is that gum in your hair.. 🥰” he DEFINITELY did it

overall he just wants you to chase him around asking him to fix it

gojo would bring food from ALL AROUND THE WORLD but he says it’s worth it for you ♡ all your favorites, and his. you brought him some kikifuku because he loveess it! and of course pictures, pictures, pictures .

when everyone left you and satoru had the beach to yourselfs. you watched the sunset together before realizing,

“wait, didn't we just miss the bus..?”

he got a uber dw! he held your hand the entire time and you fell asleep on his shoulder.

once you guys got home, he carried you to the house ☹️🩷🩷💔 (SOO SWEET)

cuteykisses. but after he had to wake you up to brush your teeth.

you could barely brush your teeth because satoru was putting toothpaste on you

“toru stop!”

“that’s bigge cheeses ghost! not me!!”

giggles the whole time

finally, you two go to bed

“nighty night toru!”

☆彡彡 t o j i f u s h i g u r oミミ☆

tojis the type of person to try and grab a dolphin.. he would act like he's just a loving boyfriend on a trip, but really, he’s planing to make his own aquatic animal selling business. he would drag one out but eventually gets caught. “toji! Your going to get us in trouble!” “but this will get me out the box!” “this will get rid of your damn cardboard box put it DOWN.”

you end up making him put back the dolphin

for lunch, you would have to bring the food. toji says it’s because “i have no time to pack food. i am a sorcerer hunter 😡. ” butttt

you really know it’s because he’s too broke to afford something that’s not under 5 dollars

you didn’t mind … ok maybe you did

but to make up for it, he brought you flowers that he found in a sorcerers garden. they were so pretty and smelt nice, you forgave him immediately.

all he wanted to do was fuck .. but you sweared to him it was a date.

kisses kisses kisses

he will kiss you a lot .

and he will try to impress you. he will swim as fast as he can and make the dolphins come to him.

you and toji will watch the sunset alll snuggled up, but after the sun sets, the worms get a little too comfy with you🔥🔥

so you two leave, but you have to drive because toji doesn’t have a drivers license. he held your hand the entire time 🤯🤯🤯🩷🩷🩷🩷

you convinced him to spend the night (YAYYY INSIDE)

you guys brush your teeth together, then go to bed.

love toj. 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷✅✅✅✅✅✅✅🩷🩷🩷💯💯

☆彡彡 s u k u n a ミミ☆

sukuna would go into the water and try to make the sea animals his peasants..

when he enters the water he starts bossing them around

“HEY BRING ME BACK TO THE SHORE.”

“TRY AND IMPRESS ME YOU EIGHT LEGGED CREATURE!”

“that’s a octopus babe…”

still, the octopus didn’t listen to him.

you would laugh so hard when his face gets red but it makes him glare at you. him staring at you angrily makes you laugh even more, to the point you slip on the sand of the ocean.

“karma is real.”

as the sun sets, he wouldn’t see the point of watching it. but for you he will sit and watch ✅✅

you would talk about your day and what you liked the most at the ocean

after cooling down, you wanted to go swim again before you leave.

you swam with the jellyfish, and you giggled a lot

sukuna’s face glowed more when you giggled

after your done, he carried you to the car and wiped the water off of you.

PRECESS TREATMENTTTT 🥰😍

on the drive home, you fell asleep

you wouldn’t even wake up because he would brush your teeth for you. but you owe him in the morning.

i feel like i barely wrote for him sorey guys.. ☹️💔

#toji x reader #gojo satoru #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #toji fic #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #gojo x you

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usertiff · 6 months

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the worst part about disability and struggling, is that the struggle just seems to continue, and honestly? get worse and worse. so yes, i know, like, "hey, it's me again! needing help..." but as my wait for disability/SSI continues, the harder and harder it is getting to survive. i'm on the verge of losing my home and my car (that transports me to health appointments and my partner to work). like many others in america, they took away our food stamps. to make things harder, as you may know, my mom has recently had 2 heart attacks and 3 different surgeries, which has only increased my struggle by tenfold, because instead of paying certain bills, we had to use our very limited income to pay for gas to get back and forth from the city hospital (3hrs away) multiple times, bandaging and other medical expenses her insurance doesn't cover, and things of the like.

being disabled is catching up to me, being the caretaker for my disabled mom is catching up to me. i'm so far behind it's absolutely terrifying. under the cut you can find my more important bills and a breakdown of things i need.

i know that life is really hard for everyone right now, everything is so expensive and assistive programs are so depleted, so i definitely want to offer what i can for any help received. this idea was 100% inspired by lomapacks, and i did ask permission to use it before doing this! so here we go.

how much do i need? basically i'm $2,291.11 behind in bills, plus have literally nothing for food or gas, which if we add it up for a month or so would then be like almost $3k.

how does the raffle work? for every dollar spent commissioning, you will earn an entry! for every dollar donated of good will, you will earn 3 entries! example, if you order $15 worth of gifs (150 gifs), you will have 15 entries! if you donate $15, you will have 45 entries! (or if you donate $1 = 3 entries, $3 = 6 entries, etc)

what are the prizes?

first place: 1500 gifs, 5 manips of your choosing, 1 crackship gifset

second place: 1000 gifs, 3 manips, 1 crackship gifset

third place: 500 gifs, 2 manips, 1 crackship gifset

every single person that commissions or donates gets: 1 manip

when will the raffle end? the raffle will continue until i've reached the massive goal, so it really depends on how quickly i can climb out of this financial grave! i'm hoping that it can be as quickly as possible!

what do you do to join? you can find my payment info below to donate or commission. if you plan to commission, please message me first so we can sort out what it's for/how much! then, please fill out the form in the source link when payment is completed. :)

when will everything be delivered? commissions will be completed in the order they were received, and delivered as soon as i can possibly get them done. once the raffle ends, the raffle prizes will be delivered upon your request for them and completed as soon as possible! i will try to deliver the manips for everyone same-day!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, FOR SHARING, FOR BEING KIND, AND FOR GIVING ME ANY TIME OF DAY.

payment information:

kofi! https://ko-fi.com/tiffanyvalentine

paypal! [email protected]

venmo! oraclelauren

cashapp! $selinaaakyle

amazon wishlist! https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/259VCVX9R5LCS?ref_=wl_share

so, here are screenshots of the most important bills i'm behind on.

RENT (update is the top screenshot, i have late fees)

CAR PAYMENT

UTILITIES (2 mo overdue, power will be shut off soon) PAID!!!!!!!!!!

other important things i don't have screenshots of:

some things are on my amazon wishlist like my cats special food.

FOOD: we have no food stamps. the need for food money will not necessarily end. food banks only provide so much.

car maintenance: overdue for oil change and the brakes are squeaking badly (oil change is like $50 around here plus brakes idk maybe $80?)

gas: to transport myself to health appointments and my wife to work.

#please share if you can!#i appreciate everyone #raffle 2023

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eddies-house · 11 months

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The Under-Ground

Chapter One - Welcome to The Under-Ground

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - In which you work at the local Hawkins coffee shop where you thought you'd be able to escape the horrors that were high school a few years after graduating. Until one of those horrors lands a job in the closing shift with you...and you have to train him.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

5K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: I finished this sooner than I thought I would...pls let me know what you think, I am having so much fun writing this so far and I can't wait to keep going

Masterlist

Next ->

The chill Autumn air infiltrated the apartment and left you shivering, the wool blanket atop your comforter did little to aid you in getting warm. That’s what five hundred dollars a month got you in small town Hawkins, it's what you could afford. Old striped wallpaper that alternated a faded baby blue and pale yellow that seemed to have been glued to the wall since the 70’s barely clung to the walls, a majority of it peeling and begging to be torn off. The stained white linoleum throughout the kitchen had seen better days and the carpet in the living room and bedroom was dingy, so dingy that no vacuum could possibly come close to cleaning it. The lock on the door was on the verge of breaking and almost didn’t work–almost. And of course the heater was definitely broken, the creepy landlord would take his sweet time to fix it, leaving you with a freezing apartment as the seasons changed and Hawkins welcomed the fall. A broke college student by day and a barista by night, these are the cards you were dealt for now.

Classes at the community college had finished for the day, rotating to the night courses. A few papers were due next week, one for your business class on the effects of product promotion in business growth that happened to be stressing you out extra. Your fingers tapped away at your laptop from your mattress nestled in the corner on the floor of your tiny bedroom. 4:30PM, the time in the corner of the screen read, just half an hour before your shift at The Under-Ground. With a groan, you click save on the document and shut the laptop which was certain to be opened later tonight after your shift only to continue the torturous essay. Begrudgingly you began your pre-work ritual of grabbing whatever snack or meal you had in the fridge, scarfing it down, and then tidying your appearance a bit while listening to your daily playlist named “Eh” on Spotify. Today’s vibe was set by Dreams by Fleetwood Mac.

The rusty bathroom faucet sputtered water before allowing a full stream to flow into the sink. You splashed some water on your face to feel more alive although it may have been a mistake in hindsight since the apartment was already cold and rather than feeling refreshed, you felt like a wet dog. Dabbing your face with a towel hanging from over the rod where the tie dye shower curtain hung as well, you collected any leftover mascara from the previous night beneath your waterline and around your eyelids. Moving to the compact closet in the bedroom, a simple outfit of jeans and a maroon knitted sweater you’d ‘claimed’ from the lost and found at the college were chosen and paired with your only signature docs. Lastly, your apron was tied around your waist in a neat knot.

Grabbing your keys from the laminate countertop and shoving your laptop in your bag, you make your way through the damaged and scratched up wooden door that was the entrance to your apartment, the number seven nailed to the front of it. “God dammit.” you jam your key in and out of the lock, twisting and repeating until it finally clicks in place. The door leads right outside into the biting air and you scurry down the concrete stairs while avoiding touching the nasty railing, Mrs. Harrison’s chubby cat, Raphael is perched right at the bottom like he always is. His large green irises stare up at you, giving the appearance that he was just a fluffy ball of black fur with eyes. “Ralphy” you mumble your nickname for him affectionately as you steal a pat from his head on your way out of the apartments, a small meow chiming through the air.

The Under-Ground wasn’t a far walk but it sure did seem that way the colder it got. You’d been working there since the Spring and so far had no issues with weather but you knew it would bite you at some point. The walk through downtown Hawkins is crisp and cloudy, leaves blowing delicately from the trees and laying perfectly in the street, colors varying from red, orange, and brown. It was mid September. Patrons wander about the streets attending to their daily errands. Teenagers mess around at the entrance of The Hideout, no doubt attempting to use their fake IDs only to be turned away by the bouncer, Stan.

Joyce Byers cleans the storefront window of Melvald’s, taking care to not miss a single streak. Her face lights up as her son, Will approaches the store. Max Mayfield skateboards past you down the sidewalk at lightning speed, the only reason you know it's her is a flash of her flaming red hair as well as Lucas Sinclair trying to keep up with her on his own board, a nervous expression written on his features as he carefully maneuvers. Nancy Wheeler hurriedly gets into her car, wrapping up her workday at The Hawkins Post while Jonathan Byers gives her cheek a kiss and heads over toward Will and Joyce.

The Under-Ground comes into view as you round the corner, the brick building vacant of customers at the moment from what you can tell through the windows. The evening rush hasn’t picked up yet, usually kicking in at around six when the college students like yourself would make themselves at home and study over lattes and espresso shots. The bell chimes above the door as you pull it open, the smell of coffee beans and pastries flooding your nose and some upbeat jazz playing through the speakers. Robin sits atop the counter much to the boss, Ronnie's dismay but he’s not around to scold her. Her dirty blonde bob is freshly trimmed, bangs laying just right across her forehead while she has a lollipop sticking out her mouth and she skims through a magazine lazily. One leg is hitched up onto the counter with her bright yellow converse on display, knee to her chest. She’s wearing jeans with a few holes and a vintage tee. Her bright blue eyes glance up and land on you, face lighting up as she greets you. “Hey, Robin!” you greet back, making your way behind the counter to clock in on the computer.

“You’re lucky, it’s been dead for hours.” she says while setting aside the magazine. “Think it’s gonna rain too so it’ll probably stay that way.” she continues.

“Good, I can probably catch up on some homework then.” you hum, punching in your employee number.

“Oh and some new guy is supposed to close with you tonight, I think you’re training him.” she mentions.

“So, no catching up on homework then.” you sigh. Training someone new wasn't necessarily difficult however it was draining since you already knew how to do everything like the back of your hand. Dumbing it all down always took a minute since you had to slow down and give them time to catch on.

“Did Ronnie say who?” you ask, turning to face Robin. Hawkins was small which meant that everyone knew everyone. Which was unfortunate sometimes since that also meant everyone knew everyone's business.

Robin hops off the counter, hair bouncing as she does. “Nope, I just know that it's some dude.” she crunches down on her lollipop and discards the stick in the garbage a few feet away.

With a sigh, you head to the back room to put your bag in your locker only to find Steve lounging at the lunch table, his feet crossed on top of it while scrolling through his phone and two legs of the chair he occupies off the ground as he balances. Today he sports some red corduroy pants and an ivory crewneck sweater finished off with converse, just like Robin’s, only black. “What’s up?” he greets, not once looking up from his phone.

“Scrolling through Tinder again, Stevie?” you mock while setting your bag in your locker for safe keeping, hooking the lock around the metal and clicking it into place.

“Actually, it’s Grindr.” he says matter of factly.

“My bad, you find anyone cute?” you ask, peering over his shoulder, his aftershave smelling subtle and pleasant.

He lands on a cute blonde guy with green eyes, most likely from a town over. “Not really.” he exhales, running a hand through his voluminous hair.

“Well what about him? He’s pretty cute.” you encourage.

“Dude, it says he likes to do Karaoke for fun.” he glances behind at you with a raised brow. You shrug, unaware of why that would deter him.

“If that's not a red flag, I don’t know what is.” he states, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket while standing, making his way to the vending machine. “What happened to me, Socks? I used to pull 'em left and right and now no guy or girl will give me the time of day.” Socks was your nickname given by Steve and Robin after the dreadful incident where a pipe burst from one of the sinks and you happened to be standing in front of it, the bottom half of your pants along with your socks becoming soaked. The rest of the evening you worked your shift without shoes, only in your sopping wet socks with your jeans rolled up. It had been an ongoing joke since, although you always reminded them how horrible it is to go around in wet shoes, the squeaky sound they would make against the floor and the squishiness of the soles. They always disagreed, insisting that it would be worse to work in only socks and how they’d just opt to continue wearing the drenched shoes.

“Steve, I think Grindr and Tinder and all the dating apps might be giving you unrealistic expectations.” you tell him truthfully.

“Okay, but who the hell else am I gonna find in Hawkins? Been there, done that, this is my only option." He inserts a dollar into the vending machine and punches in his selection, shortly after a bag of pretzels falls.

“Pretzels, Steve? Really?” you taunt. “How bland of you.” you deadpan. He pulls open the packaging and tosses a pretzel in his mouth all while giving you his signature pout. “Maybe that's your issue, you dumb yourself down for these people you don’t even know.” you continue.

“Wow.” he raises his arms in disbelief, a hint of humor evident. “That…” he flings a pretzel at you, hitting your chest. “...was mean.” he sasses. “But probably true.” he finishes. “Don’t you have a job or something?” his head tilts toward the door.

“Yeah, and so do you.” you shoot back, grabbing his apron from where it hung over one of the breakroom chairs and throwing it at him.

Exiting the room, you hear Steve chime in one more time. “I’m off in like fifteen!” Your shifts always overlapped with Steve and Robin’s, them usually taking the morning to afternoon shift and you taking over closing. Ronnie would always hang out in the back office so you didn’t have to close alone but that was pretty much the extent of his labor. The beans needed to be ground for the next day, chairs stacked on the tables, bathroom tidied, ingredients prepped, counters wiped down, etc. And you were always the one to do it, not that you minded so much. Ronnie never micromanaged and you had gotten good at closing so it became somewhat of a meditation time. The town winded down and the dim lighting provided a relaxing glow, almost as if you were in a spa. You could at least pretend anyway.

Robin was making herself a latte, carefully pouring the milk over the coffee in an attempt to make a design. She’d been practicing for weeks with no success. “Dammit! Another wasted latte!” she slams the small pitcher of cream onto the counter.

“That for me?” you question over her shoulder, spotting the blob of white draped over the coffee. You ended up drinking them most of the time, always looking forward to your daily latte handcrafted by Robin.

Letting a breath out, she hangs her head in defeat. “It is now.”

Steve saunters out from the back, stopping in his tracks right next to Robin. “Another one? Seriously?” he mutters before continuing to the espresso machine to make probably his fourth drink of the day.

“When is the new guy scheduled to come in?” you ask as you pour yourself an iced coffee. Everyone was allowed one free drink a day however it was never enforced unless the owner, Ronnie’s mom was around. She owned The Under-Ground while her husband owned The Hideout.

“5:30, I think?” Robin answers. The clock on the register currently reads 5:20. Steve glances at you, trying to hide a smirk as he quickly looks in the other direction.

“What?” you demand. Shaking his head he continues pouring an espresso shot into paper to go cup. A tug on his sleeve doesn’t get him to budge. “Steve, why did you give me that look?!” you hound him.

“Nothing!” he raises his hands in defense, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Steve.” you narrow your eyes at him, brows knit in frustration.

“Yeah, Steve. What do you know that I don’t?” Robin steps towards him while crossing her arms in offense.

“Nothing!” He lies, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Steve.” Robin glares at him.

“Y’know, this is already getting to me.” he points to his cup. “I gotta run to the bathroom.” he rushes to the back once again, holding his stomach and pretending to grimace in pain.

“What’s up with him?” you look at Robin, the two of you left standing there without any idea. She shrugs, handing you the botched latte she just made.

Pushing aside your theories, you begin setting up for your shift, restocking the cups and making sure there’s enough whip cream in the canister. The Under-Ground had a very cozy vibe, dark mahogany woods decorating the interior, little twinkly lights draped above the windows, and a snug book nook tucked away in the back corner with large shelves that took up the whole wall. Accompanying it are a few tables and chairs, their wood matching the counter and on top of each table sits various houseplants that you’d have to remind yourself to water.

Robin tops off the pastries as she always does at the end of her shift, adding some chocolate croissants, blueberry muffins, brownies, and a brand new lemon loaf to the case. She finishes off by wiping off the glass with a rag and then ensures the display of gift cards and bags of coffee beans on the counter is dusted off and pristine.

You busy yourself by restocking the to-go sandwiches in the open cooler at the front of the counter, making a note to also grab a few more parfaits from the back since those were running low as well. A few books are scattered among one of the tables so you take it upon yourself to collect them and tuck them neatly back on the book shelf. Other than that, nothing else is left to do and you should be ready to start training the new hire without any distractions. You reward yourself by sipping on the latte, the bitter taste gracing your tongue and warmth coating your throat. Robin disappears to the back briefly, coming back out with her bag while shoving her apron into it, ready to clock out the second it hits 5:30.

The roaring of an engine suddenly echoes in the streets, an obnoxious sputtering filling your ears as you glance up and out of the front window. It comes to a screeching halt as a motorcycle pulls up into one of the parking spots horizontally rather than vertically like the rest of the vehicles. Jackass, you think to yourself as the owner kicks the kickstand down. He wears a standard black motorcycle helmet, a leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and some combat boots, a walking stereotype for some kind of punk ass kid.

Jim Hopper catches him, his cop car parked a few spaces away while he does his crossword in the driver’s seat. You can’t quite make out what's being said but as Hopper exits his car in a hurry, you can tell they have most likely had run-ins like this before. The jackass looks up in aggravation as he still straddles the bike, the sky reflected in the visor of his helmet. Hopper appears to be telling him off but not giving him a ticket when he most definitely should. Jackass reparks the bike correctly, gesturing to it as if he’d performed a magic trick, Hopper with a hand on his hip and a scowl on his face. He points a finger at him, muttering one last thing before retreating back to his own car, eyes never leaving the guy.

Steve emerges from the back again, carefully. “Shit.” he mumbles.

Your gaze moves from the scene outside to behind you at Steve who is also now looking out the window. This provokes you to look back outside. Just as you’re about to ask, the jackass removes his helmet, revealing a head of wild brunette curls, his hand adorned in chunky rings as he grips the helmet. Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to inputting some inventory in the computer. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that he’s making his way toward the door. “Are you kidding me?” you say under your breath.

“Thought trendy coffee wasn’t his style.” you say to no one in particular. Steve inhales as if waiting for some kind of impact.

“Oh…” Robin says in some kind of realization.

The bell above the door rings as he swings it open, striding across the shop and in front of the counter, his eyes are a dark abyss as he looks from you to Robin and then to Steve.

“Munson.” Steve acknowledges him.

“Harrington.” he says back, a tinge of disgust rolling off his tongue. Robin’s eyes are wide as they shift between you two.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you bite, voice full of malice as you glare up at him.

Bringing his hand to his chest, his face contorting into a mock pout, he sets the helmet on the counter. “Ouch. That make you feel better, sweetheart?” Sarcasm drips from his tone.

You scoff about to tell him to leave but he just continues. “Make you feel all big and bad? Get it out of your system yet?” he taunts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh no.” Robin says quietly, leaning over you to clock out and then subtly making her way around the counter.

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here and find someone else to dick around with?” you snap, grabbing his helmet and forcing it into his hands.

A cocky look takes over his features. “Well what if I’m a paying customer?”

“I have the right to refuse service so, I’m refusing.” you can feel anger coursing through your veins, blood running hot.

“That’s unfortunate.” he frowns, moving to make his way behind the counter. “For you.” his stare burns into you, two black holes nearly swallowing you up.

“I don’t have time-” you begin but are cut off when he reaches over you and starts typing away at the computer, clocking in. His cheap cologne and cigarette smoke flood your nose.

Steve looks at you apologetically as Eddie passes him on his way to the back. A silence lingers as you process that you’ll be forced to work with the one person in this town you can’t stand. Eddie Munson was the new hire and of course he had to be scheduled on the closing shift with you. Life couldn’t get any worse than this, a shitty apartment, and now a shitty job that you used to love combined with mountains of homework. Your eternal hell. Work was supposed to be a place you could briefly escape. Sure it was still work but you didn’t mind.

“Steve!” both you and Robin scold him at the same time. He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for more yelling.

“You knew Ronnie hired him and you just didn’t tell me!” you seethe. “You could have warned me! I could have switched shifts or something-or, or–or tell Ronnie he’s a criminal or something! So he wouldn’t get hired!” your eyes are bulging out of your head as you reprimand the poor guy.

“Okay, see, the way you're reacting right now doesn’t give me any confidence that you would have reacted any differently if I told you earlier.” Steve explains while clocking out.

“So you think springing it on her like that was any better!” Robin says loudly. Steve contemplates for a moment.

“Look, Socks. I’m sorry.” he apologizes sincerely.

“Socks?” Eddie stands in the doorway that leads to the back, now free of his leather jacket and wearing a black Metallica tee. “What kinda fucked up thing did you do for a nickname like that?” he asks, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, kill me now.” you drag your hands down your face in agony. Steve and Robin slowly make their way toward the front door, looking at you sympathetically.

“See you tomorrow?” Robin awkwardly points finger guns at you before they speed up and shuffle out the door.

You sigh heavily, dropping your arms limply to your sides. Turning around, Eddie is about to speak up again but you cut him off.

“I don’t wanna hear it. You don’t talk unless it's about work. I’ll train you today and then I’ll ask Ronnie to move you to mornings or something.” you tell him in one breath.

He laughs before replying. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re stuck with me, doll.” he chuckles lowly. “I only work nights.” he says with that stupid grin.

“Who did I piss off for this to happen?” you mumble to yourself, rubbing at your temples. “Put this on.” you shove an apron at his chest.

He grunts at the impact. “No.” he simply says, refusing to grab it from you. His expression is blank.

Scoffing, you shove it against him even harder. “This is work. We work here. Stop acting like a damn child.” you say sternly.

Now taking the apron in his hand, you think he’s finally come to his senses until he bunches it up and tosses it onto one of the counters, eliciting a groan from you. You were foolish to think he would play nice.

–

Trying to train Eddie was as useful as training a fly. He didn’t listen and would purposely mess things up claiming he didn’t know any better and he almost charged one of your only customers that night double the actual cost. It was like watching a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes away from him or all hell would break loose. The cherry on top was all the snide comments he would make which led to more bickering.

When it came to closing time at 9:00, you were exhausted and could practically feel the eyebags hanging off your face. There was not enough espresso in the world to keep up with Eddie’s antics. You were counting the money from the register, making sure all was accounted for, Eddie watching as he was supposed to be learning when really he was zoned out.

“Alright, Socks, are we done here?” he says with a bored tone.

You glance between him and the cash, still counting under your breath while ignoring him. Poking your arm, he tries again. “Socks. I got things to do.” he continues. “Hey, I’m talking to you–”

“--Oh my god, just go.” you break, finally completing your counting and setting the money back in the drawer neatly.

“Fuck yeah.” he whispers, rushing to the back to collect his things. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you only hope he quits before you have to work another shift with him. Eddie wasn’t just an asshole, he was the asshole who was partially responsible for your shitty high school experience. You know it's dumb, there’s no reason to let something keep a hold on you for so long but it just does. It makes you cringe, it's like the equivalent to peaking in high school but opposite, and yet you can’t seem to look past it.

Nothing but the twinkly lights and the dim overhead lights lit up the shop, a moment of peace taking over you while the town outside laid itself to rest. Shutting off the music and untying your apron to drape it over your arm, you do one more scan to make sure everything is set for tomorrow. Satisfied, you head to the back to retrieve your bag. Eddie passes you, almost running you over on his way out, his stupid helmet in hand.

“See ya tomorrow, Socks.” he salutes as he clocks out, shortly after you hear the bell chime signaling that he had left. He was overusing that nickname but you knew it would only please him to call it out. You had to keep your cool until he figured out he didn’t fit in here and quit. Exhaling, you unlock your locker, grabbing your bag and tossing your apron in before exiting and heading for the door.

The door is locked and double checked as you step out onto the sidewalk only to find that it was still raining. Just my luck. Eddie’s dumb motorcycle roars to life again a few feet away from you, a nuisance to the tranquil town around you. Rolling your eyes, you begin your damp journey home. It’s not until you’re in front of the movie theater that you hear that damn bike behind you. You think he’s going to speed past you, maybe splash some water on you while he’s at it but the engine rumbles as if right next to you–which it was.

“Are you lost?” you spit, continuing to walk.

He rides beside you slowly, irritating you to your core. “Need a ride home?” he asks, slightly muffled by his helmet.

You huff before responding. “No. I don’t need anything from you. Get the hell out of here.” You keep your gaze straight ahead as you walk, him still following behind.

“Sweetheart–”

“--Do NOT call me that. Ever. Again.” you scold, taking a moment to point your finger at him, your face displaying disdain toward him.

“Look, I may be an asshole but it's raining. I can give you a ride.” he coaxes but it doesn’t work. You keep on, the rain drops collecting on your eyelashes.

“Get bent, Eddie.” you say, now walking faster, hoping to evade him.

He lifts the visor on the helmet, now showing his eyes as he keeps up with you. “Get on the damn bike.”

“Fuck you.” you snap at him.

Desperate, you start jogging across the crosswalk and that's when he gives up. Glancing behind you, he flips the visor down and revs the bike before speeding off. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play into his little sadist games. Life was already steamrolling you and you did not need some jackass to factor into it. After a few minutes of walking, you finally rounded the corner and the faded powder blue apartments came into view, street lights illuminating the way. The streets were sleek with rain and oil, giving off reflections of the traffic lights and buildings. You were careful to scurry your way across the parking lot to avoid any of the creeps that hung around late at night. It wasn’t exactly the best area, being notorious for drug deals and any other illegal side hustles.

Raphael’s spot on the stairs was vacant due to the downpour which you frowned at, you always looked forward to seeing him upon coming home. A few skeezy looking men stood nearby however they seemed to be involved in their own drama as they argued and took no interest in you. Gratefully, you continued quietly up the stairs and hurriedly unlocked the door, jamming the key in the lock until it gave out to you.

Slipping into your nightly routine, you begin to unwind as much as you can. A quick shower awaited you since the hot water was limited and you couldn’t wait to munch on one of the sandwiches you snagged from work. In your defense Ronnie had ordered way too many for the week and the back fridge was overflowing with them. The local deli they came from, Anderson’s had some fairly good quality meats and cheeses so for that you were thankful as they pretty much kept you fed. Tonight’s would be turkey and swiss with mayo on sourdough, your favorite. The lights flickered on as you hit the switch, another quirk that came with the run down apartment. The living room and entryway were now bathed in a warm and quite dim glow, or in other words if you wanted to read a book, it’d be quite difficult to see. Shivering from being drenched in rain, you set your bag on the kitchen counter adjacent to the entryway and start taking off your damp clothes, peering into your room to toss them into the hamper and slipping into the bathroom. It was a tight space, not a whole lot of room to do much but it was home.

Turning the faucet to ‘hot’, you wait for the water to get warm enough to bear, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom still bothered you no matter how long you lived there. You stood on the bath mat feeling the water with your finger until it was to your satisfaction, stepping in and feeling welcomed by the sudden warmth you’d been waiting for all day. In that moment you feel relief from the pressures of the world, the deadlines, bills, loans, essays, all of it. Everything melts away for approximately three minutes and that's when the water starts to turn cold again, returning you back to the dreadful reality you wish you could neglect.

But to your dismay, the cycle just starts all over again, keeping you hostage.

~end~

Next ->

Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #barista!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #the under ground

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sassy-radio-hazbin-queen · 5 months

Text

This is my version of Loonatics unleashed. I decided to do my own version. So some major differences are.

1- The Loonatics take place in 2017 which makes it's a bit more relatable to us. I love the designs of the future but I have to admit I found it weird with all the new technology the phones still look very early 2000s 😂.

2- The looney tunes are there Great Grandparents not 300th Great grandparent.

3- Duck and Rev are Girls. I wonder how come there was only one girl in the team. There supposed to be descendants not carbon copies 😒. I mean we're they saying girls can't be descendants from boys.

4- Ace and Lexi are Fraternal twins. Guys I'm sorry I just can't seem to ship them. They are descendants of Lola and Bugs bunny who are in a canonical relationship. It's a cute ship don't get me wrong. But for me it's just weird.

5- The Loonatics are young adults. Wikipedia says there teenagers but these guys are in universitys?? There ages are. Slam and Tech 22, Ace and Lexi 20 , Rev and Danger 18.

6- Zadalvia is NICE to Danger.

7- There backstories. Starting with Slam Tasmanian.

First off he can Talk. I never understood why they gave Wiles and Roadrunner descendants talking abilities but not him.

He lived in Tasmania and has an Australian accent kinda like Hugh Jackman. Some humans said they were going to take there home unless Slam comes up with 100,000,000,000,000,000 dollars. ( Which is impossible) so he signs up for American wrestling. He goes to America but finds out it's not what he thought. However a meteor changes his life forever. He has a younger kid sister who is his biggest supporter and lived with his mom after there father walked out on the family. Loves to cook. His birthday is May 4th and yes the others do joke and say May the 4th be with you much to his annoyance. Zodiac is Taurus ♉

Next up Tech e Coyote

His backstory is kinda complicated. He was diagnosed with Asperger's when he was 4 and was often bullied to the point where he is TERRIFIED of public speaking. He has lots of stim toys and sometimes didn't feel like talking. During college he befriended a shy bullied girl names Mallory and eventually fell in love with her. Unfortunately there was an accident he caused by mistake and she ended up becoming the Mastermind. He tried with inventing again but after several accidents he was kicked out of the university. However a meteor changes his life forever. Birthday Dec 30. Zodiac Capricorn ♑.

Next up Ace and Lexi

I decided to do these two together since there twins so they basically lived the same lives. Ace is the older twin and is a daredevil who got in trouble with his parents alot. As for Lexi she was a very sweet girl who everyone liked. She was definitely the angel to aces devil personality. However this came at the cost of her getting bullied and Ace getting detention alot in high school. ( Because no one messes with a guy's younger sister especially if she is your twin) at college though he seemed to mature a bit and Lexi learned how to deal with bullies with her one passion Dancing. She loves Ballet. And Ace wanted to be a Actor like his Great Grandpa Bugs bunny. Unfortunately try outs didn't go well for either. But a Meteor changes there lives forever. There birthday is Oct. 13 making them Libras ♎

And now for everyone favorite talkative roadrunner Rev Runner.

Ok so like I said Rev is a girl runner. She had a pretty standard life. However her parents never believed she had ADHD just thinking she was faster than normal or not paying attention to them. Her younger brother Rip is 10 in this world and as far as she is concerned. She is more his mother than there own. Harriet and Ralph are pretty rich and practically use there kids to help make money. Rev being the oldest was put under a lot of pressure growing up. Ralph often would push Rev to her limits. To make things worse he was Willing to Marry her to some Creep to get more money. Luckily she got away. Unfortunately she couldn't take her brother with her. Something that still crushes her. She started work at a diner as a waitress. She was miserable until a certain meteor struck earth changing her life forever. Her birthday is Feb 1. Her Zodiac is Aquarius ♒

For the Final loonatic. My personal favorite Danger Duck

( this is the only gif of him are you kidding me 😂)

Anyway like Rev she is a Girl. And the youngest of the team. Her life wasn't exactly easy at all. Her parents were murdered in front of her by psycho clowns at age 5. Then she went through several foster homes with all of them sending her back cause she was a ' problem child'. None of them realized she was lashing out in grief. She practically grew up in the system. She had only one friend. Pinkster Pig. However when he got adopted he started changing and bullied her throughout high school. When she hit 18 she was kicked out of the orphanage and was homeless taking off jobs just so she can sleep somewhere. Her latest job and place was at a pool place. After a hard day of work. A meteor changes her life forever. Her birthday is July 25. Her Zodiac is Leo ♌

As for Zadalvia. Since she is an alien I decided to make her more like avatar. She has a striped tail. And is green skin. Her outfit is Blue. And she has Orange hair. She is 35 years old. Her backstory is pretty much the same. Except I decided to have Optimus ( I dont know how to spell his name) is possessed by the robo stuff he wears. There parents died when she was young and he became an adult. After years of ruling freleng he found a robot costume and put it on. Unfortunately it possessed him. He imprisoned his sister but she escaped with the help of a rocket. Resulting in the meteor. Her birthday is September 3. Her Zodiac is Virgo ♍.

And that's basically my version of the Loonatics hope you like them 😊

#loonatics unleashed #danger duck #rev runner #tech e coyote #lexi bunny #ace bunny #slam tasmanian #zaldavia

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sadhours · 1 year

Text

neon lights pt. 5 | b.h & reader

18+ minors dni | prev. chapter

warnings: adult themes, gambling, smut, group sex, degradation kink, slapping, unprotected sex

Matted, sticky patterned carpet under Billy’s feet, the stale cigarette smoke flooding his nose and the triumphant rings of the slots is what home is starting to feel like. It’s shameful, sure but every goddamn other soul in this place feels the same way he does and that’s enough to sweep the guilt under the rug. There’s a song playing, he thinks it might Genesis but it’s muffled by the clicking of buttons, voices murmuring and the shrill tones from the slot machines. He chews on his bottom lip, fingers inching into his left breast pocket so he can light up a Marlboro Red while he anticipates his next move; where will he start first? Sometimes, Billy needs to warm up, sit at the bar and play a couple or ten hands of video poker, deuces wild is his favorite. Other times, he’s straight for the tables. Not as often, he parks his ass at a slot machine. He doesn’t like doing the slots as much because he can get stuck there for hours and that’s dangerous. The cocktail waitresses are oh so sweet and with his mind preoccupied with the flash of colors and the numbers rising or falling, he loses track of just how many times he’s asked for a beer and when he goes to stand finally, he’ll realize he’s absolutely shitfaced and a hundred bucks poorer. He can’t do slots tonight. At least not yet.

This morning, you’d taken the money Chip so graciously gave to you and paid rent, without accepting Billy’s half. So this is just extra money as far as he’s concerned and what better to do with it than bring it to Bally’s and see what he can make of it. Many things, definitely. A whopping $220 burning a hole in his pocket. He could get a haircut, he could buy some new clothes— boots; his boots are fucked and the duct tape isn’t going to hold them together much longer. They’re wildly uncomfortable but Billy’s gotten good at making do with what he has. See, the problem is he’s got this nagging voice in back of his head that tells him he could double or hell, maybe even triple the money. He rarely does, but the voice doesn’t remind him of that.

Billy takes his place at the bar closest to the doors, nods to the bartender he’s gotten to know pretty well and slides a twenty into the machine. He maneuvers the buttons until he’s pulled up Deuces Wild and he’s betting a dollar. If he completely fucks it, that’ll give him twenty hands but that’s unlikely. And that’s why he likes to start with this game. The bartender places the Budweiser and an ashtray in front of him.

“Good day at work?” she grins, Billy doesn’t show up to Bally’s unless he’s got money. When he’s broke, he takes his happy ass to the Coin Castle.

“It’s my day off,” he smirks, sliding a dollar for her tip before reaching for the bottle of beer.

She giggles, flipping her blonde hair back as she grabs the bill, “Lucky you.”

“Let’s hope so,” he mumbles, his fingers pressing against the buttons with ease, holding a queen, a jack and a king, all of the same suit. His heart beats a little faster and the rushing feeling in his stomach picks up. Billy loves that feeling more than anything. It’s better than listening to a great guitar riff. It’s superior to blowing his load. There’s nothing like it.

A ten of clubs and a four of hearts. Fuck. With the flick of his finger, he’s dealt a new hand, the loss forgotten in an instant.

“Ya know…” the bartender hasn’t moved away, she’s twirling her hair between her fingers as she continues, “I’m off in an hour. A couple of us girls are going to go dancing. Maybe you’d like to come.”

You come to Billy’s mind in an instant, he’s got to pick you up from the club at 2 but he does consider it. You were pretty adamant about this not being an exclusive thing. It’s only dancing. Billy likes to dance when he’s drunk enough. It’s not probable that he’ll be drunk in an hour. Plus, he’s just got here.

“Well, sweetheart, come find me in an hour and if I’m not winning, I’ll join ya,” he smiles at her, flicking his ash into the tray before glancing back down to the game. He deals himself another hand and he’s got two deuces wild and a queen of hearts to hold. He’s got a three of a kind guaranteed but the possibilities are endless. He nudges his thumb against the button and is pleased to see a Royal Flush with deuces.

He grins and the bartender sighs, “Looks like we’ll be dancing without you.”

Billy shakes his head but the euphoria spreading through him hopes this doesn’t jinx him, “You know how these things go.”

“Shh,” she winks at him as she saunters over to the other gentleman at the bar.

His next hand is a bust but Billy expects it. He pushes for several hands and then it crawls up slowly, hand after hand he's getting straights and flushes. He gets four deuces after his third beer and he cashes out, tipping the blonde bartender more than he should before he decides to grab himself some chips. Roulette’s been calling his name since he got here.

There’s two tables to choose from. A sad looking one with a couple of dudes, chain smoking while looking glum and another one, with older dudes in suits who have gorgeous girls in tight dresses hanging onto their sides. If Billy went to that table, he’d be the most attractive guy there but the girls wouldn’t flock to him unless he started winning. Then again, he ain’t betting like these nice suit, ugly dudes. Sad table it is.

Billy sits down, grabs a stack of chips and starts slow, bets on black and smiles brightly at the dealer. First round, he wins and because he can’t help himself, he bets more on black. Again, the little ball lands on black and weirdly enough, on the number Billy was debating on picking. Which has his gears turning, he’s gotta bet more, slides a stack of chips over to the first number that calls his name. He doesn’t even get the color right and he grumbles, reaching for his Marlboros. He checks his watch and that’s a bad sign. He orders a shot of Black Velvet and another beer from the cocktail waitress. If he’s gonna dance, he’s gotta be drunk.

Billy’s only lost about a hundred bucks when the blonde pokes his side. He turns to see her and five other girls, bouncing on their toes as they look to him.

“What’s the verdict?” she says and Billy has to look at her name tag, burn her name in his memory. Cynthia.

“Looks like I’m a dancing fool tonight, darling,” he smiles at her but it doesn’t reach his eyes. If they hadn’t come to look for him he would’ve blew through the other five twenty dollar bills in his pocket.

She does a giddy dance and then her face falls, “I mean… I’m sorry you’re losing, but I’m happy you’re coming with us.”

“You and I, both,” he chides, sliding his last chip for the dealer and following the gaggle of girls upstairs. He waits outside of their locker room, smoking down a cigarette while he downs his last beer. The girls are quick, they come out dressed in skimpy outfits that reveal so much, Billy can’t help his eyes scanning between them. He has the crude thought that he could be the pretty, pleased focal point of a fivesome but he tries not to revel in the thought. He can’t jinx himself two times tonight. He pictures your face for a split second but pushes it away quickly. He’ll be there to pick you up at 2, he can’t be held responsible for what happens in between.

“I feel like Hugh Hefner,” he smiles wide, wrapping his arms around however many girls he can manage as they walk down the hall. The comment is met with a commotion of giggles and Billy thinks he could write a fucking letter to playboy if this night goes right.

The club is packed. It’s a Friday night so it’s no shock. Eyes turn as Billy walks in with five girls on his arms. The best part is he doesn’t need to pay them. He knows that it would cost him an arm and a leg if he did. Michael Jackson is playing loud, the bass rattles Billy’s chest as he herds the women to the bar. He orders them shots of tequila and whiskey for himself. Cynthia rubs her nose against the base of his neck, rubbing his exposed chest as she whispers a thank you. The six of them cheers before downing the shots and before they disperse, Billy orders a second round. He’s not drunk enough to dance but he’s close.

Once that warm buzzing flows through his veins, he has no complaints being dragged through the crowd. He’s got one girl in front of him, another behind him and the other three in his view. They all grind together. Billy thinks of you again. He thinks of the hundreds of men who would pay for this and how all he has to do is smile pretty at the right girl for this all to happen. He’s got four hours until he needs to pick you up. That’s plenty of time.

Cynthia pulls his face close and whispers in his ear, “If you’re up for it, we’d like to show you a good time tonight.”

Billy’s not one to turn down fun. He’s fueled by promises of fun. He wouldn’t live his life any other way. Being serviced by five women at the same time might be intimidating to most men but not him. Looks like he might be penning that letter to playboy after all.

An hour goes by and then he’s being dragged out the door. His nerves are numb, the alcohol makes him brazen enough to make out with three of the girls at once in the backseat. He can’t be sure whose hands are whose. They’re all over him and the two girls in the front complain they don’t get to touch him. His dicks been excruciatingly hard since he climbed into the backseat. It’s all filth in his mind. Selfishness. Billy’s not worried about performance anxiety. His libido is wildly high. It has been since he first figured out how to jack off. There were days spent where he’d wear himself out. Addiction is a factor maybe. Billy’s not familiar with moderation, if something makes him feel good he indulges until he physically can’t anymore.

They arrive at one of the girls places. It’s a big house, out in the suburbs in a gated place. Billy’s sure whoever lives here is a sugar baby. They’ve all told him their names and he repeats them in his head, trying to picture their faces as recites them internally.

Cynthia: blonde, blue eyes, huge tits. Teresa: brunette, Asian, pretty smile. Julia: brunette, Bambi brown eyes and small chest. Jenna: blonde, bigger tits than Cynthia and a mole on the left side of her upper lip. Raquel: red hair, freckles all over and a big ass.

Billy’s got this. He can handle this. They’re all fucking stunning. Those no way in hell he can’t keep his dick hard. The gaggle of women lead him into a master bedroom. Teresa and Julia run downstairs and return with a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of champagne. Raquel disappears to find cassettes, Billy figures this must be her place but he can’t be sure. When the redhead returns, she’s putting the Warrant album Cherry Pie and your face floods Billy’s mind. He grabs the handle of whiskey and drinks from it in guzzles until he’s being pushed back on the king sized bed. Cynthia is unzipping his boots, tossing them aside and pulls his socks down. She kisses along his bare feet and in most circumstances, Billy wouldn’t be aroused but now, his dick twitches in his pants.

“Condoms?” he chokes out, the worry settling in his chest abruptly. Jenna smiles, biting her lip as she undoes the buttons of Billy’s shirt. Raquel opens the nightstand drawer and grabs a box of Magnums. She dumps it out on his stomach, settling beside his head as she rubs her hands up his chest.

Cynthia licks around his big toe and he lets out a giggle, jerking his foot away from her face. They all giggle but Teresa’s undoing his belt and licking along the corded muscles of his stomach. Billy feels on top of the world. These girls can’t keep their hands off of him. He wonders for a second if his dad would be proud but shoves the thought aside when he realizes his dad might be jealous, wouldn’t admit how cool this is and instead tell Billy how void of morals he is. Any goddamn man would be proud, but more than anything, jealous. Julia’s flicking her tongue against his left nipple and Jenna swallows his moan down, shoving her tongue in his mouth. If Billy had to pick which girls he’s most attracted to, it’d be Raquel. She’s the shyest. They all work at Bally’s but she’s the one who averts eye contact the most. Billy had fantasized about her before. He smoothes his hand down Raquel’s back and squeezes her ass.

The girls collectively undress him before they undress themselves and Billy’s not sure where to look. His eyes dart amongst them, his erection against his stomach is aching and red. He can feel himself leaking. Raquel is kissing against his cheek while Teresa and Jenna simultaneously lick his cock, Cynthia is still focused on his feet and ankles which tickles but he’s distracted enough for it to feel good. There’s so many hands on his body. It’s all so wonderful. Billy turns to capture Raquel’s lips in his own, reaching between her legs to drag his fingers through her folds. She’s soaking wet and it makes him groan into the kiss.

He mumbles against the redheads lips, “Lemme taste your pussy.”

She gives a squeal before she’s straddling his face. He wraps his hand around her thighs, squeezing as he pulls her heat to his lips. She tastes good. Billy loves the taste of pussy. Every girl is distinctly different but there’s a similarity amongst them. Something that gets his body going. He thrusts his hips up at it, the two women below chasing it. He closes his eyes, he’s got to focus on not busting his load too quickly. There’s two tongues dragging against his cock and another pair licking at his balls. The man’s in heaven. Raquel grabs onto his curls, making a slew of whimpers and mewls. He has to open his eyes to look at her. Her face is totally fucked out, her tits bouncing as she rides his face. He growls against her and she looks down, lips parted obscenely as she cries out.

“I’m gonna cum already,” she complains with a whine which has Billy lapping at her cunt that more excitedly.

“No fair,” he hears a voice below.

Raquel comes against his face with a scream, writhing against him before pulling off him as she tries to catch her breath. It’s like a queue after that, each girl straddling his face one after the other to cum. He’s impressed that he’s able to hold off himself while he gets all five girls off with tongue, one right after the other.

Raquel hasn’t had enough, she’s grabbing a condom and ripping the packaging open before slipping it over his aching cock. She slips him inside her with ease and then Jenna’s grabbing a hold of Raquel’s hips, guiding her movements as she licks at the redheads tits. Cynthia and Julia are lapping against each of his nipples and it’s not something Billy had ever considered arousing but fuck does it feel good. Four beautiful faces looking at him and then he feels a tongue against his balls again. Teresa must be down there, she’s the only one not accounted for.

“Let me try,” Jenna begs, eyes flicking up to Raquel’s face. The redhead pouts but pulls off of Billy’s cock and drags the condom off of his length with her nimble fingers. Jenna supplies another, sinking down on Billy’s cock with such ease it makes him grunt. It’s all overwhelming and Billy’s on the fast track to busting, it’s too much at once and Jenna bounces on his cock maybe five times and he’s unloading into the condom, a cry leaving his lips as he thrusts up into it. He knows himself well. He can come one more time before he’s toast and an inkling inside of him wants to save it up for you.

Then Billy’s imagining you in a similar situation. Not you as one of the five girls pleasing him but the opposite. He pictures you with five dudes and within a split second, he’s dick is soft. He feels incredibly embarrassed as it happens but he sits up pushing the girls away from him. He’s… he’s jealous, images of you with five cocks that aren’t his podding and poking you and he’s angry. He gasps, catching his breath while five pairs of doe eyes look up at him.

“Fuck… I have to go,” he scrambles out of the bed, whisking up his clothes as he stands.

“Billy,” Cynthia scoffs, “We just started.”

He jumps into his jeans, “And it was fun… but fuck, I’m sorry. I just… I have a woman.”

“Oh?” Raquel breaths, looking up at him with shame in her eyes.

“Like not, really…” he exhales, pushing curls off of his forehead, “I just realized I’m in love.”

Billy understands that’s not what you should say to five naked girls in a bed but it’s the damn truth. All of them look at him disappointed as he steps into his boots and pulls his shirt over his shoulders. He’s still being bombarded with images of you being fucked by five different dudes and it makes his stomach turn something crazy. He’s angry with you and it’s misplaced anger and he’s totally aware. He’s more mad at himself but there’s an ego not letting it seep in.

“I’ll get a cab. You girls keep having fun,” he says, slipping into his boots. The redhead follows I’m downstairs, grabbing his wrist before he can open the front door.

“You won’t find a cab out there,” she whispers, “Let me call you one.”

Billy sighs, leaning against the door as he looks at her. She’s gorgeous and he could have her. But she isn’t you, and that fact punches him in the face. He’s made a grave mistake.

“She must be real special,” Raquel says as she dials the number, holding the phone to her ear.

“If I gave this up,” he groans, “Then I’ve got to be a fucking idiot. But yeah… she’s special.”

Billy’s chain smoking when you make it to the Camaro. The alcohol has seem to worn off. He’s wracked with guilt. You can practically smell it on him when you climb in.

“What the hell did you do?” you ask, snatching the Marlboro from him.

He finds himself honest, for some reason. He sighs, “I was just with five girls. In some fucking mansion…”

“And you gave it up to come pick me up,” you purse your lips.

You’re jealous for sure but he’s not your boyfriend. You set these boundaries for a reason. And you wouldn’t be caught dead going back on your word.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds like he means it.

“You fucked them,” you exhale, tilting your head, “All five? Is your dick still attached?”

“I didn’t… hey, I said I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“By all means, fuck who you want,” you shrug, “You’re not my boyfriend, Billy.”

“I thought of you, getting absolutely trained,” he says with a chuckle, “And my dick went soft.”

“I wasn’t the one having an orgy,” you bite back, “Drop me off. Go back to them.”

Billy shifts the gears, peeling out of the clubs parking lot in seconds.

“Billy… I’m not mad… I mean, I hope you were safe,” you explain, “You haven’t been safe with me and maybe I should’ve like…”

He interrupts you, “You’re literally the only girl I’ve skipped that with.”

You’re a bit stunned. You haven’t slept with anyone besides Billy since you two had sex the first time.

“In your whole life?”

“Yeah,” he seethes, he sounds so angry you’re a little worried. Then he softens, “I like… I don’t know. I wanted to feel you.”

Your heart beats faster. And you are mad. But you’re also flustered. He just had five eager women ready to do whatever he asked and he ended it to come pick your sorry ass up.

“I take it you didn’t win big tonight.”

It’s a low blow but hell, you hate gambling. It tore your family apart and you really don’t see the appeal. But Billy loves it. You’ve seen the way his breath hitches before every hand, before every push at the slot.

“As long as I have you, I’m winning.”

You don’t reply. You can’t.

“Goodnight,” you tell him as you get into the apartment. You don’t give him a second glance because you are mad. You’re mad he cared enough about you to stop his porno come to life. Boyfriends are bad news and Billy is not your boyfriend. He’s strictly your roommate with gorgeous eyes and a great dick.

“Whatever,” he huffs before stalking off to the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on and you crash onto your bed, peeling your clothes off along the way.

When he’s crawling into your bed an hour later, you stiffen. This isn’t okay. He should go to his own room with his tail between his legs. It’s not even the sex you’re mad about.

You straddle his waist, pushing his shoulders hard against the mattress.

“I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Billy Hargrove,” you spit, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he mumbles beneath you, “Talk dirty to me.”

You slap his face, hard while you peer down at his moonlit face. You hate how fucking gorgeous he is. His eyes look excited and he lets out this breathy gasp that has your pussy aching.

“I mean it. You’re stupid, you had five girls all over you and you think I’m a better lay,” you seethe, grabbing onto his jaw and pushing his head back against your pillows. “Five pussies are better than one.”

Billy lets out this aroused whimper and you slap him again. He’s so foolish. You’ve had men this smitten before. None of them nearly as pretty as him but still. Sometimes your job was scolding men for wanting you. But he’s not paying you. He actually knows you.

“If you think I’m touching your disgusting dick then you are soooo fucking stupid,” you whisper, digging your fingernails into the sides of his puffy cheeks. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

Your words are mean but it’s obvious they turn him on, you can feel it between your legs. Hard against his briefs. You’d be a big fat liar if you insisted you weren’t wet from the interaction. You don’t get it. He had five women, easy. He could have any woman easy but he crawled into your bed.

“Say it,” you press, “Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“Shut up,” he bites back and you slap him again.

“I mean it,” you knit your eyebrows together, “It’s fucking sad. You were just a cock to them and you’re just a cock to me.”

Billy’s throat makes this groveling whine and you can feel his cock twitch against you.

“They were sweet,” you pout, shoving your thumb in his mouth, “they made you feel special. But you’re only ever something to fuck.”

You grind against him, mind reeling at the way he sucks on your thumb. You’ve had power like this during sex, but it’s incredibly intoxicating when it’s over Billy. You ache to hear him begging.

“You want me to fuck you? After that?” you tsk, “As if you’re worthy to be inside me.”

He bites your thumb and you bellow out a laugh, pulling it out so you can smack his face again.

“You’re so goddamn lucky you’re pretty,” you tell him, “If you didn’t make me so wet, I wouldn’t fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” he pants out, desperately.

The desire dripping his voice is decadent. You almost lose focus. He’s so easy. And you’ve had your share of easy men. But none of them were sex wrapped in tan muscles and a sweet face to boot. Damn him for being so sexy. Billy was good too, he knew it didn’t take much for him to flip the roles but he liked this too all to well.

“You think you deserve my pussy?”

“No,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “but I need it.”

“Yeah?” you purr, “You could’ve had five women, easily. Fuck who’s to say you didn’t fuck all of them and now here I am, getting the fucking leftovers.”

“Only two,” he whines and you notice how his fists clench at your sides, he’s fighting himself to give you this control and it almost ends it all. You feel stupid for wanting him so badly. It makes you slap him again, which he preens at, obviously liking the punishment. Goddamn him. If you were in fact his girlfriend, this would be relationship ending news. But Billy… is Billy, and unfortunately he’d need to do a lot worse to put out the fire you have for him.

“You’re so stupid,” you remind him, pulling at his blonde curls, “I should be kicking you out of my bed.”

“But you’re not,” he says, breathlessly.

“Yet,” you threaten as you lower your mouth to his, crashing your lips in a bruising kiss. “You make me so fucking sick.”

It’s true, but he makes you feel more wanted than you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s extremely dangerous.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbers, jerking his hips up to meet yours.

“No, you’re not,” you laugh, “You like being a whore. Huh? Makes you feel like such a hot shot, having all these dumb sluts throw themselves at you?”

Billy grunts, finally moving his hands to grab your jaw and pull your lips against his. You can’t help but melt into it. You’re writhing against him, allowing him a sliver on control because he just feels that amazing and you’d give him anything he asked in a heartbeat.

“Baby,” he whines against your lips, “I need you so bad. I need you. I want you. I don’t care about anyone else…”

“Fuck you,” you fume as you grip his face, it’s all the words you want him to say but you cannot believe. This is just sex. He needs to know that. You can’t afford to have Billy being possessive of you. Everything quite literally banks on you being available, or at least the illusion you are.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” you repeat, “You're nothing to besides a hard cock and a pretty face.”

Billy laughs, it’s soft and sweet which takes you out of this role for a second. You can faintly see his face in the moonlight, the way his eyes crinkle and the pearly white of his teeth as you stare down at him.

“Boyfriend or not,” he sings, “I’m the only one you’ve fucked in months. And hell, darling, that counts for something.”

Your face reddens because he’s caught onto you. The way you’re berating him is because you’re jealous and jealousy is dangerous in your field, granted you don’t actually fuck around with the patrons of the club but you try to make them think you would. It’s the job.

“What made you stop? Really?” you lean over and flick on the lamp on your bedside table. You want to see his face.

“I thought about how I’d feel if you were with five dudes,” he whispers, looking up at you.

“And you felt guilty.”

He nods, trailing his fingers up your arms. He looks ashamed. You can feel it emanating off of him.

“Well don’t,” you try to mean it, “We’re just friends with benefits.”

Billy bites his lower lip and nods, “Why aren’t you sleeping with other people then?”

“I’m busy,” you shrug, which isn’t the truth. You we’re approached the other night but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The other guy was attractive, but he wasn’t Billy. He didn’t make your stomach fill with butterflies.

“Might be easier for me if you did, though. ‘Cause, darling, I feel like a piece of shit right now,” he drawls as he wraps his fingers around your hips.

“Yet, you’re still hard,” you giggle as you grind against him.

Billy bites his lip as he squeezes your hips, “I have the sexiest chick on top of me, there’d be something seriously wrong if I wasn’t hard. Plus… the way you were talking to me…” his face flushes as he admits, “so fucking hot.”

“Sexist?” you smirk down at him, rolling your hips slowly before leaning down to press your lips against his. You’ve got no clue where his mouth has been tonight but you’re happy to kiss him anyways. He doesn’t taste any different, the smoke from his cigarette present as well as a hint of whiskey. Maybe a bit of mint, he definitely brushed his teeth. His admission to being aroused by your degrading surges a searing desire through you but there’ll be a different time to explore that.

“Mhm,” he mumbles into your mouth before sliding his tongue against yours and jerking his hips up at you. You pull up off him enough to get his briefs down, lowering yourself so you can drag your heat against his shaft. Billy groans, deep and guttural as you coat his cock this your wetness.

“Need to fuck you so bad,” he purrs.

“Then fuck me,” you pant out and in an instant, Billy’s flipping you two over and pinning you against the mattress. You feel his heavy cock against your thigh while he starts sucking on your neck, no doubt leaving marks that you choose not to care about in the moment. He grabs your leg and props your ankle up on his shoulder. It burns but only slightly. He grabs a hold of his dick and slips inside of you, raw. You gasp out, eyes widening as he gives you no time to adjust, slamming all the way inside you. Billy doesn’t go slow either. He hammers away, rocking his hips into you hard and fast.

“Fuck, Billy!” you cry out, your back arching as you clench around his length, “Mmm, oh, god.”

“Take it,” he grunts out, “Take my cock like a good girl.”

Your eyes cross from the sensation, mind going cloudy as the only thing you can focus on is the excruciatingly wonderful drag of him against your walls. Nothing else exists besides you two in this moment. You cling onto his sweaty back, uncontrollable sounds tumbling from your lips as your body jostles from his movements. Whenever Billy gets his cock inside you, you go dumb. He fills you in a way you’ve never felt before and you’re left in this blissful state. Sex had always been about getting off or getting the other person off. With Billy, the whole experience feels amazing. There’s not a time when you’ve wanted him to just hurry up and get it over with. It’s the attention, maybe. Billy manages to make you feel special during this. It’s the eye contact, the noises he makes and the kissing. You’ve had too many experiences where the guys closing his eyes or you are. It’s always felt like one party or the other isn’t totally there. Not with Billy. No, whenever you two have sex, you’re both fully and completely in it.

“You look so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” he coos, pushing your hair off your face. Oh, yeah, the talking. He talks so much. Words of praise, degrading shit, you love it all.

“Feels so good,” you lamely blubber, unable to really think of anything else to say besides his name.

He chuckles, grabbing a hold of the back of your thighs and opening you up even more for him. Your ankle falls off his shoulder at the motion but he doesn’t falter. You whine, knitting your fingers in his dirty blonde curls and tugging on them. He adjusts his position just slightly and the angle of it has the head of his cock rubbing the spongy spot deep inside you expertly. You cry out and then Billy licks his fingers before rubbing them against your clit. You melt, bucking up to meet his thrusts and then your orgasm hits you hard, a throaty moan leaving your lips while you seize against him.

“Fuck…” he whines, collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips hard against yours. The kiss is sloppy, Billy’s licking into your mouth haphazardly as he thrusts into you harder and faster. Your cling onto him, spreading your legs and writhing against his movements.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you admit, without really thinking about it and he inhales sharply.

His moans into your mouth, his hips stilling for a second and you feel his cum coating your walls. He twitches a bit on top of you, breathing heavily as he gives a few softer thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck… fuuuck,” he growls and then pulls out of you.

You feel his cum leaking out of you but then Billy’s fingers collect it and push it up through your folds.

“Oh,” you moan, locking your eyes onto his while he does it.

He kisses you again, more lazy this time and when he lays beside you, you ask him, “Better than your orgy?”

Billy laughs, softly, “So much better.”

Billy wakes with a splitting headache and his stomach churning. His entire body is sore, particularly his face. Never in his damn life did he think he’d get off on getting slapped but he reveled in it last night, he wanted you to punish him for the dumb shit he pulled but Billy was a little concerned that you still wanted to sleep with him after he admitted to his tryst with the women.

He rolls over, puts his arm around your waist and tugs you close to him, burying his nose in your neck. You make a sleepy sound that’s got him squeezing you tighter and chuckling against your skin. He smoothes his hand over your back until he meets your bare ass, squeezing the flesh and kissing against your shoulder.

“Billy,” you whine, “What time is it?”

He heaves a sigh before turning over and grabbing his watch off the nightstand. “Three,” he says, “We could get away with another hour of sleep.”

“I need to shower,” you pout, turning to face him.

He remembers coming in your hair the night before and winces, you probably should’ve showered afterwards. He sits and stretches his arms, scolding himself internally for getting so plastered knowing he had to work the next day. But it’s routine for him, he’s hungover at work more often than not.

“Well, come on, princess,” he delivers a soft smack to your ass before climbing out of the comfort of your bed, “Let’s rub a dub.”

“You’re so lame,” you chuckle, propping yourself up on your hands as you watch him walk to the bathroom, eyes following his plump ass the whole way. It’s a view you don’t think you could go without at this point.

The shower is lazy, you lean on Billy the whole time and he carefully washes your hair for you. You’re not sure how long you two stand in there, Billy’s chest pressed to your back while he runs his hands all over you. It’s so comfortable you don’t want to get out, but the water goes cold and Billy’s maneuvering around you to turn off the flow. He kisses your cheek, stepping out and retrieving a towel for you. You dry off and watch as he opens the medicine cabinet and grabs his leave-in conditioner and curl cream.

“You take far better care of your hair than I do,” you inform him which he chuckles in reply. You find yourself entranced in watching his movements, the way he rakes the products through his curls and scrunches the ringlets up. When you realize you’ve been staring and the tightness in your chest, you force yourself to your room to get dressed. Friends with benefits, you repeat the term in your head over and over. Just sex. It can’t be anything more.

Luckily, you both work the same shift tonight. As you’re finishing up your makeup, Billy wanders into your room and knocks against the doorframe.

“I made you some food,” he says and you turn to see he’s dressed in a navy button up and tight Levi’s. His chest is exposed as per usual and his hair has air dried beautifully, the dirty blonde curls surround his head making him look almost ethereal.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you smile as you follow him into the kitchen. He’s already dished you a plate of eggs, bacon and hash browns. Above your plate is a cup full of black coffee, with your creamer and sugar placed next to it.

“I would make your coffee but I didn’t wanna fuck it up,” he admits as he sits down, digging into his own food.

You lift the carton and pour in a little bit, scooping in the sugar and mixing it up. As you bring the cup up to your lips, you grin up at him, “So was it super embarrassing when you stopped your orgy?”

Billy chokes on his coffee, eyes widening as he takes another sip to calm his throat, “You’re a brat. Yes, actually, it was. My dick went soft in like a split second.”

You laugh, reaching for a slice of bacon, “Record time for you, huh? I can’t get that thing to go away.”

“It likes you, a lot,” he smirks, raising an eyebrow as he looks to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” your face flushes, the admittance that you like it at just as much on the tip of your tongue. “What did you tell them?” you settle on instead.

Billy maneuvers in his seat, leaning back so he can crack his shoulders, “That’s even more embarrassing than losing my hard-on.”

You giggle before shoveling more of your breakfast down. Then you’re hit with sudden panic that Billy told them he had a girlfriend or something worse, like maybe he was in love with someone and couldn’t do this anymore. You decide not to push the issue further. After you two have cleaned the kitchen up, Billy ushers you out to the car so you guys can head to work.

“Hargrove!” Becky shouts as soon as the two of you walk into the club, “Get your ass back here, I’m drowning.”

Billy leans close to kiss you and quickly catches his mistake, pulling away and scratching the back of his neck, “Uh…”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, pushing through the crowded bar before you’re disappearing into the dressing rooms.

Billy groans softly, quickly walks behind the bar and starts counting his till. It’s not more packed than usual but Billy notices the till is fucked up. There’s bill’s in the wrong places and no one’s or quarters. He exhales sharply, counting out what he needs and shoving the rest in the leather bag before squatting down to the safe and entering in the code. He’s technically not supposed to have the power to do this, but Didi really likes him and he’s the only bartender who knows the code. Billy’s had the temptation to steal money from it but quickly pushed it away because Didi is the type to press charges and it’s just not worth it. He likes working here.

Once his till is in order, he’s pouring two shots of whiskey and handing one to Becky. They down them in quick succession and then he begins taking orders. There’s got to be at least six bachelor parties here tonight. He’s got ten shot glasses lined up and a bottle of Black Velvet in his hand when he hears the emcee announce your first dance. It’s a damn fight to resist the urge to look up and watch you. Somehow, he manages, doing the quick math in his head after he pours the shots to tell the guy his total. The asshole only tips Billy a dollar, grins wide when he tells him to keep the change. Batting his eyelashes and pouting his lips, Billy tells him, “Aw, sweetheart! You’re too kind.”

The chance for aggression is a good distraction from you but the guy just snorts before they take their shots and head towards the stage.

“Guess what I did,” Billy says to Becky once they’ve got the crowd under control.

“Told Ms. Cherry you’re in love with her?” Becky bites back as she nods up to you on stage.

Billy furrows his brows together, “No.” He smirks at her before saying cheekily, “I had a six-some.”

“No, you didn’t,” she says, her face contorting in disgust, “Your dick is gonna shrivel up and fall off. And that’d serve you right, you gross pig.”

Billy laughs, a loud bellow that makes his stomach ache, “Well the little champ was able to go again when I got home.”

“You’re telling me,” she puts down the bottle of tequila and turns to face him, “You stuck your dick in five different women and then went home and gave whatever the hell you caught to Cherry?”

“I’m very safe,” he retorts, putting his hand on his hip, “Besides, she wasn’t even mad at me.”

“Or she pretended she wasn’t mad.”

Billy sighs, eyes averting as he sees a hand flagging him down from the other end of the bar. He doesn’t know why he would tell Becky, he should’ve anticipated her disapproval. He struts to the end of the bar, not sparing a glance at the patron as he asks, “What’re we having, boss?”

“Hargrove? Billy fucking Hargrove?” the familiar voice cuts deep and Billy’s eyes snap up to see big doe eyes all wide with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Harrington? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, absolutely stunned. He spent his senior year hating this guy only to spark up a pretty abnormal friendship with him for a short couple months before he hightailed it out of Hawkins.

“Me? Oh, Tommy and Carol are getting married, I’m throwing Tommy a bachelor party. What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows up so high Billy thinks they might join his hairline. His hair is still huge, and a little longer.

Billy laughs at the news of Tommy and Carol tying the knot, remembering all the times Tommy said he didn’t want to marry her.

“Uh, I live here now,” he explains, playing with the rings on his fingers as anxiety builds up inside him. He isn’t going to admit to Steve how he got stranded here and is probably addicted to gambling. “Why Vegas? Kind of a far trip for a bachelor party.”

“But it’s the best place for it,” Steve grins.

Billy interrupts him when the emcee tells the crowd, “Give it up for Cherry!”

He puts his thumb and forefinger in his mouth to whistle, bellowing a howl after as he claps his hands.

“Sorry,” he brings his eyes back down to Steve, “Well, shit. Small world. Lots of clubs in this town but you ended up here.”

Steve shrugs, “Everyone told us to come here. Said it has the prettiest girls.”

Billy’s eyes follow your ass as you saunter backstage, “It sure does.”

“That your uh, girlfriend?” Steve gestures to the empty stage.

“Cherry? Ah, no. Roommate. Can’t date the girls that work here. Conflict of interest or something,” Billy says with a chuckle, lighting up a cigarette in attempts to calm his nerves.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t sleep with them,” Steve points out and Billy cackles back. Steve wasn’t so bad once he got to know him. They were actually pretty similar dudes.

“So, what’re you drinking, Harrington?”

“Give me five beers, whatever’s cheapest,” he say and when Billy gives him a pointed look he explains, “They’re already shitfaced and I paid for the whole trip.”

Billy shakes his head, but reaches for the five bottles and hands them over to Steve, “$10, amigo.”

Steve slides him a twenty and disappears into the crowd. Billy can’t believe it. It’s been years since he’s seen the guy. What are the odds he’d show up here?

As the night progresses, Billy can’t help but notice that you’ve gravitated to Tommy’s bachelor party. At first he didn’t think much of it but when you gave Steve a lap dance, you grabbed his hands and put them on your hips. That’s definitely not allowed and Billy feels the harsh wave of jealousy rise through him. Becky gives him a couple of looks as she’s working, checking on him and it makes Billy feel worse. He suddenly regrets not getting that redheads number from the night before. He did know where to find her, though.

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