#i gotta find a better way to do glitter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingoddess1125 · 8 months

Text

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Final Part

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader

Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.

Support me on Ko-Fi

Author Note at End!-

Buggy

Dee woke up first, feeling the scratching of wood on his face. Sitting up quickly he saw they were in a cell- more accurately the brig of a ship. Sitting up quickly he felt his head throbbing in discomfort, he saw Bee also knocked out and shook him hard.

"Get up-" He hissed, smacking Bee across the cheek which snapped him away.

"What the h-" Dee slammed his hand against his brothers lips quickly. Bee noticing were they were and rubbing the side of his head. Dee carefully removing his hand-

"We have to be quiet..."

"Do you remeber what happened?" Bee questioned, Dee shaking his head. It was all too fuzzy for him to remeber.

"Doesnt matter.. we just gotta get out of here" Bee nodded at this and both kids stood up, Dee deciding to climb to the top of the cell greatful he had been in the crowsnest for a while and learned how to climb the mast.

"Hey this ship is old enough, I think if we push in this plank will pop up and we can try and shimmy our way up"

Bee followed his twins lead and climbed up next to him- Both beginning to push on the plank and pry it from its position. Dee greatful they were both skinny kids slipped his way through the open planking the dim space before pulling Bee up behind him. Once in they looked around.

They stared in awe- realizing this is must have been were they were stashing the treasure- it was small just big enough for the twins to stand with an inch of head space above them.

Bee grabbed some gold coins and shoved them into his pocket with a greedy smile. However Dee eyes went to a series of 3 boxes nearly stuck in a corner, kneeling down as he grabbed one and cracked it open seeing some odd looking fruit.

"Did you find food?" Bee said appearing like the Imp he was and peering down at it- it was boxes of fruit. Both boys groaned at the sight, You forced them to eat fruit most the time since they didn't really have a taste for healthy. Bee picked up the first one he saw and held it with one hand and frowned-

"That's it? Just some old fruit? They don't even have chocolate?" He grumbled figuring better tasting stuff was more valuable.

"Just shut up and eat it- We don't know if we will get food again" Dee argued back, Grabbing one from the box as well. Insync the two took a bite of their respective fruits and shivered in disgust as they tasted it. Bee barely able to swallow the first bite and quickly chucked it at a wall-

"What the hell was that!?" He yelled, Dee chewing his own in disgust before his eyes widened as he covered his brothers mouth. But it was far too late. Heavy footsteps quickly marched above them and both boys hit as the secret hatch above them opened- they saw a large pale man frowning as he looked at his secret treasures, he had a big purple fur coat, a wide brim hat that matched, way too small of eyes that made him look squashed like a pug. As he looked around clearly keeping an eye on his treasure Dee unfortunately was not keeping an eye on Bee who had grabbed a gold Dagger from the collection of goods and stabbed the captians hand. The large man yelled and jumped back-

Just like with all things- It seemed improve was Bee's go to!

Like two little rabbits both boys rushed out of the hiding hole and rushed out the Captian's Quarters while the blinged out Captian yelled and yanked the knife from his hand.

Dee and Bee ran through the halls of the ship, This wasn't like their dad's so it was difficult to navigate. However as if luck was on their side they rushed to the Main Deck- there they saw the ship and crew-

It was like they got flash banged by glitter- All the crew mates were wearing sequence in some way while the ship looked like someone had dunked it in cheap glitter and rhinestones.

"Did we get kidnapped by literally the lamest pirates?-" Bee questioned as the crew looked at the twins in shock.

"The hostages are escaping!!!" A crewmate yelled as all hell broke loose, The boys scrambled and darted in different directions. Dodging and lacing through the grown men at best they could- the boys were quite literally running laps around these idiots and having them knock into each other-

"Enough!!" What was assumed was the first mate held a gun up and fired directly at Dee clearly not caring about keeping a hostage for ransom anymore.

Dee stood in shock as the bullet came right at him- Before silence. Bee stood there in shock as Dee slowly looked down, There sat the bullet perfectly stuck to his chest. Carefully he pulled it off him and dropped it to the ground. Shocked just as much as the Crew members.

"THEY MUST HAVE EATEN A DEVIL FRUIT! THROW THEM OVERBOARD!!"

The Crew yelled before the grown men all charged at the boys- Dee picking up an oar and ready to defend himself. Till the oar didn't come off his hands- he started to wave it around wildly to get it off, Hitting the men in the process of doing so.

"Sorry!!" He yelled as he tried to kick off the oar from his hands but it smacked a guy in his teeth and landed perfectly back in his grasp sticking once again. His feet sticking to the ground as he bent backwards as a guy jumped at him and jumped into the sea around them.

"I-Im sorry!-" Dee cried as he spun around and the oar stuck to him swung and smacked another pirate inbetween the legs.

The oar finally unsticking from his hands and falling to the floor with a unflattering thud.

He looked to hear cackling as he watched Bee have the damn time of his life- He bounced like a spring everywhere, going incredibly fast as he punched different crewmates with the force of the abilities.

It seemed everytime Bee swung a wave of force would come out of him sending men flying at kicks and punches. He laughed loudly at this and looked on at the destruction he was causing.

Once all the crew mates were knocked out the hard steps and laughter from the Lower Deck caught their attention. The massive Captian clapping in praise as he walked up to the Main Deck.

"The Tack Tack fruit and the Bam Bam Fruit- Fitting you two would stumble upon it! One makes you Just sticky enough that nothing on the outside can harm you just stick, while the Bam Bam fruit lets you double your natural abilties every time you hit it twice"

The Captian bellowed as he stared down at the two boys- Pulling off his coat with a laugh revealing the many gold chains on his body and heavy rings on his fingers.

"Behold a true devil fruit! The Bling Bling Fruit!" He yelled as he clapped his hands and his whole body turned into glittering gold before punching the ground hard shattering thay part of the deck, The boys jumped out of the way of the impact.

"Too bad it won't keep you from being crusted to death!!" He yelled as he began to jump and use himself as a human Canonball- The boys barely dodging the attacks, the few times Bee tried to make a hit the mental just hurt his hands and made him jump away.

The Blinged out Captian continue to terrorize the boys, as well as landing blows on them that they barely were able to escape.

The Captian laughed loudly as the two boys were just trying a means to escape at this point, The older man hitting Dee who flung overboard barely able to stick to the side of the ship to keep from hitting the water.

"DANNY!" Bee called out as he rushed to pull his brother up. As he did so he saw the Captian power up and jump ready to crush to two under his weight.

"BLING BLING CRUSSH- OOF!-" He cried out as a Special Muggy Ball suddently smacked into his back exploding and propelled him into the ocean past the two kids. Both boys frozen as they saw The Big Top ship came into View, Buggy at the front as massive hooks came to the side of the blinged out ship and pulled it close.

"DAD!!!" Both boys cried out, Buggy and You rushing from the Big Top to the smaller pirate ship quickly and towards the twins. Buggy using his Chop Chop abilities to grab both twins from so close to the rails and pull them close.

"Oh thank Heavens you're alright!!" You cried out as you kissed their faces, tears rushing down your cheeks as you held them both close.

"How did you find us?" Bee fried out, As you smoothed your hand over his and Dee's face.

"You don't make your ship shiny cause you turn into a sailing Lighthouse thay anyone can track-" Buggy pointed out as he gestured to the glittery ship.

"Are you two hurt? Oh my goodness is that a busted lip!?" You cried as you looked at Dee's face.

"We are okay, we did most of the damage anyway! And the bullets didn't hurt me!"

"Yeah We were beating them all up too! And fought the whole crew with our awesome abilties!!" Bee yelled excitedly.

Buggy froze at this like a record scratch, staring at his sons with the most deadpan stare he could possibly muster as his eye twitched.

"Boys- Please elaborate on what the hell you mean by that?-" He asked as he put one of each hand on his shoulder and kneeled down to their eyelevel.

Bee grinned widely at this as he giggled excitedly, before snacking Dee and his hand sticking to his brothers face. Dee glared at this and yanked him off him aggressively before kicking his brother in the shin- making Bee cry out and hop on one leg, of course after that second jump he shot through the air.

Buggy giving his signature scream in shock before his hands flew out and grabbed Bee quickly before he flew into the ocean.

"YOU TWO ATE DEVIL FRUITS?!" He screamed out as he brought back bee carefully and proceeded to grill them on finding out how and why-

"Yeah the Tack Tack fruit and the Bam Bam fruit!!" Boy boys said in unison.

They ate a devil fruit- both ate a devil fruit... you turned away and felt your body stagger a bit as the words that Buggy was screaming in panic about to the twins was mumbled on you-

Both of them... Cursed to never swim... while you're out on sea... and both of them are pre-teen boys that don't listen...

You didn't remeber your face smashing into the main deck due to you fainting- However you sure as hell felt it when next thing you know Buggy is fanning your face and holding you in his lap in panic. Your boys standing around you as well and a few crewmates with a wet rag for you and a first aid kit.

"Buggy... please tell me your genes did not win and have not one...but both our twins eat a devil fruit"

You whimper out, Buggy wincing at your words a little and nodding that unfortunately it was true-

"Oh dear Gods..." You sigh- almost ready to faint again.

"Mommy I promise we won't cause any trouble" You heard Bee said, his voice softer then normal as he was clearly worried. Dee nodding in agreement as he too looked worried that you were mad at them.

"I know my loves- I... it's just very dangerous"

You say softly, Sitting up with the help of Biggy who rubs your back in comfort. Dee and Bee stand there nervous for a moment, before Dee whispers to his brother who grins and reach into his baggy pants pockets.

"Here Mommy! I have just the thing to show we will be okay- TAHA!" He yelled out as he pulled out two large handfuls of treasure.

Both you and Buggy's jaw drops at the sight. "Where did you get that!?" You yell and Dee smiles at this.

"On that ship we escaped" He said proudly, Buggy started in saying to bring it to the treasure room but the boys refused. Saying it was theirs and they would hide it in the best spot! Running from the both of you laughing as they plotted their treasure spot.

"I suppose a Pirates life is for them" You said with a tired chuckle, staring at the two as they ran away to the lower deck. Buggy helped you stand fully this time, not bothering to chase the kids for their nice lump of treasure.

"They will be amazing pirates for sure- and great men"

Feeling a arm around your waist, glancing up with a raised brow to see Buggy wide grin.

"You know, I haven't gotten that much time with the boys especially in those important younger years. I did miss so much and wish I got to experience those baby years as a Dad"

You slowly raised your brow as your eyes narrowed at the man who continued to grin with mischief in his eyes.

"What if we-"

You sent him a glare that made him smile nervously.

"Hell Fucking No-"

Shanks

It had been about 6 months since Shanks had returned into Vivians life. It had been slow going but getting there. The two had days were it was just them together and you could see that spark in Vivian's eye slowly coming back as her and Shanks hung out more-

Today was one of those days, Both having returned from a day out boating and having a picnic.

"Hey Mommy! We're home!" Vivian yelled put holding the empty picnic basket in her arms as Shanks smiled at you.

"Hey you two, How was today's boating adventure?" You ask, Smirking at the proud smile on Shanks face as Vivian began to mindlessly chatter about how much fun she had with Shanks. The man was clearly doing everything in his power to make it up to Vivian.

"I'm glad you two had fun"

As you speak this a wash off a odd feeling it you- You lean against the countertop, feeling lighthearted and dizzy. Assuming you had first thought you may have over worked yourself or not had enough water.

"(Y/N)?.." You hear Shanks call out to you as you felt odd. Closing your eyes as you staggered and fell being barely caught by a panic Shanks who called your name but the words warping before you feel unconscious.

When the doctor had arrived he had done every test imaginable and came out with grim results. An illness that couldn't be cursed and only be drawn out- he did everything he could in terms of medication however you all knew it was grim. Vivian took the news worse then anyone, insisting that you could improve if she did more. You and Shanks both having to slow her down and keep her from having a breakdown at that.

It had been a month since your diagnosis and you knew you were rapidly falling apart. Your legs being the first thing that went- you lips starting to get a sickly shade of blue and pain coursing through your form at all times. Vivian having decided to try and become a sort of care taker for you despite Shanks being there who helped you daily, she was desperate in wanting you to get better and it broke your heart to see-

"It's okay Mommy, you'll get better. Just takes time"

Laying in bed you watch Vivican fuss with your blankets talking about keeping you warm so you could get better. However you knew you wouldn't... your time was approaching and there wasn't anything to be done.

"Vi.. could you do me a favor and run to the market to get my favorite icecream?" You ask softly, watching her nod and run downstairs to do as you asked. Leaving you and Shanks alone, there was a few moments of silence before you sighed.

"Shanks... when I'm gone please take Vivian with you... she can't be alone" Shanks opened his mouth, most likely yo protest you dying but you held a hand up calmly.

"I know what will be happening to me... and in truth, I don't want to suffer either.. which is the second thing I need to ask of you-"

You saw his eyes water at this, bowing his head at the words. You knew you were asking too much of him- But he was the only one you trusted now and needed his help.

"What do you want done?..." He asked softly, his voice barely over a whisper.

"First... I want to have a nice dinner with all of you- And I want to tuck Vivian in... after she goes to bed.. me and you share one final drink together"

You say calmly, reaching over to grab the bottle of pain pills the doctor had given you. Holding the bottle out to him, his resolve cracking at this as tears rolled down his cheeks. Clutching the bottle hard and nodding.

"Okay... I can do that... And after?" He spoke between tears and trying to control his emotions. Tears running down your own cheeks at this point.

"Cremation.. and my ashes spread in the sea... the most beautiful place you can think of"

Shanks nodded at this tears running down his cheeks as he slipped the bottle into his jacket pocket for later.

When Vivian got back she was met with a surprising display, both her parents in the kitchen cooking. You seated on one of the chairs slowly and carefully cutting up ingredients while her father was stood adding it to different pots and mixing it with a spoon.

"Ah Vi, Thank you for the ice cream love. Wanna help us make dinner?"

Vivian smiled widely at this and nodded. It turned into a wonderful time together, the family making a wonderful curry dinner that was filled with laughter and nice stories- You and Shanks talking about your guys dating in the past, Vivian felt like she was in cloud nine. You were smiling and cheerful while Shanks was attentive and kind.

Once having your fill and eating the ice cream together Vivian watched you and Shanks together. After the family time Shanks carried you upstairs to Vivian's room were you read to her, kissing her forehead and tucking her in to the best of your abilities.

That evening once Vivian was put to bed Shanks laid you back in your own, careful in his task as he tucked you in with his hand and added several pillows to make you comforble.

Once laid out he grabbed two bottles of Rum. With shaking hands he added the crushed up pain pills in one and mixed it calmly before handing it to you.

Tears rolling down both of your guys cheeks as you both sat there together. Shanks leaned over and gently kisses your lips, sniffling as tears rushed down his cheek.

"I want to say I love you (Y/N)... and you have blessed me with not only your presence but our beautiful daughter.."

You smile at his kind words, returning the kiss and caressing his cheek.

"I love you too Shanks, you are a wonderful man who made me a Mother to a beautiful daughter.. I know you'll take wonderful care of her"

Holding your bottle up you both cheers and take the first sip of many, At this you two drink that night and for the final time.

When day rose, you were gone. Vivian had been woken up by the sound of the doctor talking, rushing out to see him and Shanks talking calmly his face red from crying. She rushed to him and peered into your room were a white sheet covered your form. Her eyes widening and her body running cold at the sight- She didn't even hear the words from Shanks as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

She stepped forward and he followed silently behind as she took a seat on the bed and touched the outline of your hand. Tears running down her cheeks as she looked on at your covered form, her hand hesitating in wanting to lift the shroud but stopped herself. Instead looking at Shanks who was silently crying while standing there.

"W-Was she in pain?" She asked, Shanks shook his head no at this. Vi nodded softly at this, before standing up from her seat and stepping towards Shanks and pressed her face against him- slowly her sobs began to fill the room as she wrapped her arms around his leg and cried. Shanks placing a hand on her head as he let her, she needed to cry.

The next few days had been a blur, Vivian had said her final goodbyes to you, crying by your side before the doctor took your body to he cremated. Shanks took control, he had organized the memorial, picked up the ashes to bring with him on his journey to sea and been with Vivian every step of the way. Vivian keeping the rights to the house and bakery when she wished to return, as well as packing up her room to be set onto his ship.

It was so much going on and all too quickly, yet it seemed like he was watching it in slow motion. Watching how Vivian looked out at sea or held the apron you always wore, it was hard for her yet she seemed to understand and accept it as well.

"Vivian.. are you ready?" Shanks called out, Stepping into her empty room as he crew took the last few boxes to his ship. She was standing there looking out the window holding your apron. Snapping from her thoughts she looked at him and nodded, folding the apron and putting it in her suitcase before following Shanks silently.

Once to the ship Vivian hesitated for a while, standing there as she watched the ship bustle to set sail as quickly as possible. She turned to look at the island, holding her suitcase still as the wind picked up through her red hair.

Vivian stood there, tears running down her cheeks as she looked out at what had once been her home with you.. her life that she knew with you was gone.

Feeling a hand on her back she looked up to see Shanks, looking as glum as her as he looked down at her. No words would be a comfort to her, they both knew that... but ironically they would only have each other from now on and the memories of you to keep them floating.

Mihawk

It was like clash of the titans in your home- Ever since you and Mihawk's tumble on the couch.

Mihawk and Alucare seemed to be constantly and silently fighting with each other. While they claimed it was training you were pretty sure Alucare taking a razor to the back of Mihawk's head was not apart of training or the need for Mihawk to quite literally toss his son to the other side of the island as punishment.

However it seemed in some way they were getting along- mainly when the two did real training in the orchard by your home. Since Alucare had a interest in blades Mihaek had taken up to training him- even procuring a curved sword he called a kilij to train him with. Alucare had taken up to this training well and had been getting better everyday. It had genuinely turned into a rather picturesque family envirment for the past few months much to your delight.

Today was just the same, Alucare and Mihawk up at dawn to train- Then silently fighting with each other, you cleaned up from breakfast and right on cue Mihawk walked in having let Alucare leave for school taking a seat at the dining room table.

You two shared a small conversation with each other as Mihawk unwined, you pausing however to take a break.

You rubbed your lower back in mild discomfort, you didn't notice Mihawk's gaze on you. How his eyes lingered on your form as you moved through the house.

"Dinner? Sure we can have dinner together next week, sounds like fun- Oh before I forget let me get you some tea-"

"Let me" You heard him say, and stand up quickly. Gesturing for you to take a seat quickly as he went to make the tea.

"It's okay Mih-"

"You're back hurts. It's more then acceptable to make my own tea and for you to rest.. You shouldn't work yourself so hard" Mihawk says calmly and surprises you by how he just took over the kitchen and sets down a cup of lavender tea, you raised a brow at this since he normally drank black.

"It's just mild back pain-" You pointed out, narrowing your eyes at him. Something was clearly up.

"Let's go to the doctors... if you are uncomfortable it's safer" He insisted as he took a seat and sipped his own tea ignoring your hard stares.

"...You know something don't you?-" You point out adding some honey to the lavender tea. But he stays quiet and continued to sip his tea.

At first you refuses to go to the doctors, hoping to prybit out of Mihawk what he was hiding- However the man just kept pestering you to go. It only took a few hours of his nagging for you to decide to go.

A few hours passing and Alucare returned, Clearly having decided to skip classes again to just return home. Walking in cautiously to see Mihawk in the kitchen and you nowhere to be found.

"Where is mom?" Alucare asked as he saw Mihawk quickly chopping vegetables-

"She will be returning shortly-" was all he said, but Alucare knew that tone. The old man was up to something.

The door slammed open and both men turned in surprise looking like two startled black cats with their fur raised- You were never one to flare your temper but oh boy did you look pissed. Holding a paper in your hand and glaring hard at Mihawk.

"You knew!!" You yelled pointing at him, Alucare stepping to the side out of the line of fire. Mihawk lowered the cooking knife and turned to look at you as you stomped forward.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked calmly, a almost playful tone on his face as you tossed the paper directly to his chest which he caught and began reading through carefully.

"You knew you got me pregnant again! You knew this whole damn time didn't you!!" You yelled, Alucare jaw dropping at the news and clearly now wanting to leave the room.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" He said calmly as he read through the paper, a smirk on his face as he read through it. You snatch the doctors paper from his hands that indicated you were in the early stages of pregnancy.

"You knew!- You ass!" You blush flustered as you hold the papers. Mihawk staring at you blankly and shrugging slightly like he didn't know what you were talking about- You placed your hand on your hips and narrowed your gaze.

"Damn it Mihawk we are both too old for a baby! Besides I can't fit a newborn in this house its-"

"Come move in with me" Mihawk said, this surprised you and Alucare together over how serious Mihawk seemed about this.

"I have missed the birth of one of my children already.. as well as you being forced to raise him on his own- I will not allow it a second time... I want both of you to move in with me" He explained, Gesturing to both of you with his hands. An air of silence followed.

"Mihawk- I couldn't just mooch off of you, I mean what would they think if just a random person moved into your home? I-I wou-" You were cut off again with a raised hand.

"You wouldnt be mooching off of me, you will be my wife and if anyone who dares come to my island has an issue with you as my wife they will learn quickly not to-"

Pause. Wife? Your eyebrows raised at hearing this, your cheeks feeling far too warm and chest fluttering.

Alucare looking slightly surprised by this as well.

"Wife? Since when have you married my mother?-" Alucare demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I planned on asking next week, however things have changed with the arrival of your sibling. So I'm asking now" He said bluntly.

That's when it clicked, thay dinner that Mihawk had asked you to join him at- That ment he was most likely going to propose then to you and ask you anyway to be his wife-

You covered your mouth in shock at this revolution. Mihawk smiled calmly at this, as he stepped closer to you. Alucare scrunched his face up in disgust at being caught in this sort of emotional situation.

"...If you're still interested I'd prefer to ask now. The ring order won't be ready till tommorow however..." Mihawk admitted as he placed his hands on your hips. Tears welling up in your eyes and you nodded.

"Yes, I will marry you-" You whisper out, Hugging the man you were so close to castrating just moments ago. Mihawk returning the gesture calmly as his hand settled on your waist.

"We will be moved out by the end of this week, it will be a bit of a sail to my Island so I will make sure everything is safe for the journey" He stated calmly, Alucare looking ready to barf at this point.

"I get no say in this do I-" Alucare asked as he stared at both of you.

"No."

"No-"

And that was that.

It seemed Mihawk really did manage to do as said, by the weeks end he had purchased a larger ship since he didn't think the Hitsugibune sea craft he usually used would carry you all comforbly and keep you safe. So he purchased a larger sea vessel, hiring also some local men to pack up the house and load everything onto the ship- Since your house was tiny it didn't take long.

Mihawk hadn't let you lift a finger- when you offered to help move things or even to cook lunch to bring on the journey he had refused and took the task himself. Alucare had also been weirdly okay with this all, he hadn't made a lot of friends in school so he wasnt attached to that- He'd explored all of the island and neighboring islands as well so he didn't care about the area-

Just like Mihawk had said, by the end of the week the small family was ready to depart- everything had been packed, enough food for up to 6 people to last a year instead of 3 as well as every supply imaginable.

You held Mihawk's had as he escorted you on the ship- still helicopering you. One hand on your lower back as he lead you on board.

"Mihawk Dear I'm not made of glass" You giggle softly, seeing the rather focused look on his eyes as he made sure you were fine while on board.

"I'm aware, but I wish for your safety only Darling" He says softly, Making you blush deeply and turn away in surprise. Alucare followed behind and rolled his eyed at the flirting between his parents.

Alucare looked at the island he had called home for the last time, feeling the tug of the small ship as it pulled from the docks ready to set sail.

This was the start of a new life.. and while he would never say it- he was excited for whatever was to come.

Author Note:

WOW! This sure has been one hell of a journey! I'm so glad that all of you have enjoyed these stories and have given me the chance to write for so many of you! These series has gifted me my first 800+ followers to my page and I couldn't be happier!

As a way to celebrate and yelp organize these stories I have organized them and put them on AO3! That and with some extra stories to go with them! They are also separated into individual stories as well!

Twice as Difficult Buggy x Reader and Twins

Memories that Wait Shanks x Reader and Vivian

Copy and Paste Mihawk x Reader and Alucare

Thank you all again and I hope to see you all soon!

Tag List-

@lunanight1021 @lolavegas20 @cuteastrash @thatcharmingmushroom @marsilis @thesadvampire @amecchii @zaphira-san @matronofthevoid @mothmans-left-nipple @hoe4fiction @manyimaginativemuses @alyholmes02 @arianyo @chaoticpercy-jacksonkid @lansy-4 @skeetyeetyote @untoldshortsofthefandoms @dank-memes19 @peachycuptea @kenqki @psycheflame @commanderfreethatdust

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #shanks

3K notes · View notes

starshideurfics · 2 months

Text

Thirsty Thursday - Meet me in the restroom

steddie, omegaverse, mdni 🔞

Eddie doesn’t want to be at the club. It’s hot and sweaty, drinks are way too expensive, and he should really be planning the encounters for tomorrow’s hellfire session.

But Chrissy didn’t want to come alone, and the alpha girl she’s been crushing on said she’d be out tonight. Eddie is nothing if not a good friend, totally ready to wingman for Chrissy should the need arise.

It just isn’t likely to, since she’s already off making out with Robin in a dark corner.

Eddie figures he’ll spend the next half hour or so nursing his beer, then he’ll check in with Chrissy, find out she’s going home with Robin, and make his own quick exit.

He’s just looking over his shoulder to check on her when he catches a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. There’s a man—an omega, his brain not-so-helpfully supplies—at this corner of the dance floor. He’s wearing a deep red shirt, sleeves short, his arms and hair dusted with gold glitter. He shines, drawing Eddie’s attention.

All the way down to his perfect ass.

He’s wearing little faux-leather shorts that cling to him like a second skin, showing off toned thighs and the delicious curve of his cheeks.

And from his spot by the bar, Eddie isn’t positive, would know better if he could see him from the front, but it looks like a zipper runs the length of the center seam.

Throwing back the remainder of his overpriced beer, Eddie weaves through the bodies between himself and his golden-skinned omega, sidling up beside him and feeling like a cliche when he says, “I saw you across the room and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take my eyes off you,” against his ear.

The omega turns, dark eyes glinting with interest as he looks Eddie over, before leaning in to smell him. Eddie’s sure he smells like sweat and Chrissy’s body spray that she spritzed in the van when they arrived.

“You smell like Christmas,” the omega moans, looping his arms around Eddie’s neck and getting another deep pull of his scent. “Like gingerbread. Wanna dance?”

“Yes,” Eddie breathes, being brave and scenting him back, a purr rumbling in his chest at the smell of sweet cherry cut through with lime. He already feels drunk on his scent, on their proximity.

They move together, Eddie mostly swaying, letting himself be guided by his partner, taking the liberty of gripping rounded hips, of pressing their sweaty foreheads together.

The song changes, and this walking wet dream of an omega leans close to whisper in Eddie’s ear. “M’thirsty. Gotta get a water.” Eddie nods, ready to take a step back, but the omega grabs his hip, presses their crotches together. “I think there are better things for us to do together than dance. Meet me in the restroom. Third stall.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, mind racing. “How do you know it—”

“Toilet’s broken—no water in the bowl.” He kisses Eddie’s cheek. “Meet me there.”

Eddie does as he’s told, waits in the third stall already half-hard with anticipation, his blood pumping loudly in his ears. Even with all of that noise, he hears the door open, sees royal blue hightops under the stall door and steps back to allow his shining omega entrance.

Here, under the fluorescents, he looks more real, but no less beautiful, a hungry smile on his face as he advances on Eddie. They meet in a biting kiss, one that ends with Eddie sucking on his pretty omega’s pouty lower lip, as the man reaches for Eddie’s belt buckle.

He makes quick work of shoving down Eddie’s pants and freeing his cock, pulls back to spit in his hand, and jerks the alpha to full hardness. “If you want, I can use my mouth. I’m very good with my mouth,” he whispers against Eddie’s ear. “Or…” Reaching for Eddie’s hand, he guides it down to the zipper pull on his shorts, helps him slide it back between his spread legs. “I’m not wearing any panties, and I’m already so wet.”

He lifts one leg up, rests his foot on the seat of the broken toilet, offering easy access for Eddie to slip a finger inside, to pet his lips and gather slick.

Eddie’s not sure who moans first, but they should by quiet, and he dives in to stop both their noises by mashing their mouths together. Soon enough, he’s sheathing himself in tight, wet heat, their bodies rocking as one until Eddie comes with a strangled grunt, his knot tying them together.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, reaching between them to jerk the omega off, both of them gasping as powerful muscles convulse around his knot.

“God, Eddie, that was so fucking hot.” Steve rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder, panting as he steps out of their little roleplay.

“You’re hot,” Eddie says, rubbing his back and kissing his temple. “Fuck, Stevie, you need to wear sexy little shorts more often.”

“You get to see me naked all the time,” Steve retorts, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s throat.

“But the shorts really show off your ass-ets.”

Eddie gives Steve a shit-eating grin, and Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe I agreed to marry you.” Then he pulls Eddie in for another long kiss.

#steddie #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #fanfiction #ficlet #thisty thursday

147 notes · View notes

cherubfae · 3 months

Text

"gonna make you a daddy" || vox machina x reader

With Vax, Percy, & Scanlan

tags: smut, afab!reader, female anatomy, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, you're married<3, I'm not trying to show favoritism aaaa I just adore Percy sm 😭🥹, overstimulation, creampie, pussy drunk boiyos, I got the need for speed and the need to breed

Vax

Stopping mid-thrust, Vax's eyes widen. The breath stolen straight from his lungs. Pretty brown orbs search yours, glittering beneath the pale moonlight. Slowly he lifts your chin, bowing over your body to kiss your lips. A much more tender action than the unbridled way he'd been thrusting into you only moments prior.

"Are you sure, pretty?" Lips trail your skin, ghosting over your cheek to the corner of your mouth. Vax moans at your eager nod. "Words, baby. I need to hear you." His cock throbs deep in your cunt, making you gasp. He takes your hand, pressing a kiss where your golden ring adorned your finger.

Arching your back, you keen up at your love. "Yes, Vax-- my sweet Vax'ildan~! I wanna make you a daddy I--" A shuddering gasp ends your sentence. Vax presses deeply into you before pulling out and pressing your knees to your chest with a single large hand. His cockhead slips across your wet folds, tapping at your clit.

"Then we gotta make sure my cum takes hold, little raven." Vax yanks your lower half towards his pelvic bone, sinking into you with a single deep thrust. The night certainly had shifted the mood, but he'd argue for the better.

Percy

Cupping his face so gently, you beam up at Percy. "I mean it, love. I want to start a family with you."

A soft whimper crawls out of his throat, unable to focus on anything else but your living expression and the way you clench so tightly around his cock. His hand finds yours, pulling the sheets from your grasp so that he can twine your fingers together. Tiny tears bubble at the corner of his eyes, his arm sliding behind your back pulling you into his lap.

"An honor, darling. Let me look at you like this." Percy kisses you deeply, hips rolling into the backs of your thighs. With one hand braced across your shoulders and the other gripping your pace, Percy rocks into you with delicious fervor. An unmistakable gentleness to his touch.

The night ebbs on with loving strokes, slow deep thrusts and quite a few positions. There wasn't a lovelier sight that the moon light shining down on Percy's back; flexed muscles and a delicate sheen of sweet bared for your eyes only when he cums inside of you. Pushing it back into your cunt with thick fingers, he descends on you like a madman, tongue lapping at your clit. Those seafoam green eyes watching your chest heave with a desperate cry as you cum for him. Your legs are strained and tired but he isn't done yet. "One more, dearest. I promise I will be done. I need to make sure you're pregnant with my child. You can do that, can't you, baby?" He kisses your forehead, moving down to swallow your cries as he stretches you out on his thick girth once more.

Scanlan

A flushed hue coats his cheeks, a wide grin spreads across his face. "Fffffuck, baby, you serious? Yeah? You want to have a baby with m-me?" He swallows thickly, blush deepening. "Okay, okay. Don't need'ta tell me twice."

Scanlan smiles, a gentle tenderness in his silver-blue eyes. Kissing you deeply, his steadily pumps himself into you. Like a flurry, his hands are all over you. Unsure of where to find purchase but too eager to explore you; to leave no stone unturned. He breaks from the kiss with a low moan, a string of saliva trailing after.

With every outward dragging pull sends him thudding back against your skin. Creating an even pace, eyes drawn downwards where the two of you are connected. Scanlan is drunk on the creamy ring that coats the base of his cock that slides down his balls, staining the bedsheets.

He's lost track of how many times he came into you, how many times you clenched around his dick like vice-- all of it. All Scanlan can focus on is you sleepily tucked under his arm, his palm resting flat atop your tummy. You two have talked about starting a family for so long it almost feels unreal to finally be trying for one.

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#the legend of vox machina imagines #the legend of vox machina x reader #tlovm x reader #tlovm imagines #vox machina x reader #vox machina smut #the legend of vox machina smut #vax'ildan x reader #vax x reader #scanlan shorthalt x reader #scanlan x reader #percival de rolo x reader #percy de rolo x reader #cherubfae 2024

141 notes · View notes

heartsofminds · 1 year

Text

and at every table, i’ll save you a seat - part i

“Well, apparently Baby Goose’s been losing his mind ‘round the base about how this really smart and sweet girl invited him to a wedding and won’t text him about it.” or you invite Bradley to a wedding but your big fat crush on him won’t let you actually. . .invite him.

“and at every table, i’ll save you a seat” - tunes of the gossipy Hard Deck patrons and liking someone so much you feel like you can’t breathe

A/N: hey guys!!! so in the midst of writing this, i realized how long it actually is and how many dividers i had on my google doc? anyway, i thought it would probably work out so much better if it was released in parts rather than just one, big, fat, HUGEEEE piece that would probs crash on mobile. listen along to the playlist (that will be updated with each writing update) and relish in overly flirtatious bradley with me! which btw, he’s the lover album personified with a dash of red and a hint of fearless!

“I’m not asking him.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes before she takes a sip from her Ultra. The thought of it tasting revolting because of its lukewarmness crosses her mind despite her head pounding unceremoniously. She almost speaks up to answer you, but closes her mouth.

She softly places the bottle back down on the counter instead.

She can’t quite tell if the pain in her temples is from the sound of excited chatter all around her, the sound of Mickey, Javy, and Bob shittily singing Go Your Own Way on the karaoke machine in the corner, or the sound of your blue glitter gel pen scratching away at the scrap paper you have by the register; frantically carrying decimals for tip calculation and pathetically adding and subtracting since Penny’s “older than dirt” cash register bit the dust an hour prior.

She almost concludes that the pounding ache working its way to the forefront of her brain is because of your absolute and utter refusal to do the simple and the obvious. But wait.

I haven’t eaten at all today. Yeah, that’s it.

A deep breath fills her lungs before she exhales. Her elbows find themselves on the lip of the bar top and her forearms come up to rest her head on her hands. She notices that the scribbling stops from what she assumes is you looking at her.

An uncomfortable beat passes which is unusual for you two. There’s always some sly remark made or interminable giggling filling the gaps of silence.

You pop your hip on the corner of the table. Your magenta tank top was far too bright of a pink to be welcome in the warm-hued bar. Your bracelet screams “graduation gift” and you can feel the oil on your face contorting your makeup as your time in the muggy air passes.

Out of place is always in your thoughts but doesn’t become an insecurity until you’re left alone with them. The absence of Phoenix’s voice makes this fact more obvious to you.

“You good? Not gonna hurl all over the place?” you cautiously ask, “Because it’s fine if you gotta puke, but I’ll murder you if you make me clean it up.”

Natasha lets out something short of a laugh but too informal to be considered a huff. “I’m fine,” she says, leaning her head into her hand and adjusting herself in her seat.

You nod, returning to your scribbling when the man sitting next to her hands his card to you. “You know, if you write any harder, you might permanently etch,” she pauses, leaning over to get a peek at what you had just written, “ten dollars and eighty-three cents into the counter.”

“Maybe it’ll convince Penny that a new cash register is a need and not a luxury.”

Natasha scoffs. “Could say the same about your plus one, but hey, if you don’t want my advice, then certainly don’t take it.”

You hand the gentleman back his card with a smile and a small “thank you” before returning your attention back to Natasha. She digs her teeth subtly into the plush of her bottom lip.

“I already told you. I’m not asking him.”

She groans, pushing herself to stand up from her seat. Even dressed in civilian clothes, she looks like she belongs. Her aura demands respect; even in a lacy wine-colored top that Hangman had tried to tease her about earlier when the brood of rowdy pilots had first arrived.

“Well, you said no to Jake.”

“You say it like he would be willing to say yes.”

“You said no to Rueben.”

“He’s in a situationship with that girl from my spin class. Going with me to a wedding and her seeing the pics on Instagram would just make shit weird,” you start scrubbing at the permanent water stain near the beer taps anxiously, “Especially when I set them up.”

Natasha rolls her eyes again. She swears that by the end of the night, she’ll know exactly what the inside of her eyelids look like.

“Whatever,” she huffs, “You said no to Javy and Bob.”

“Javy would rub the fact that I asked in Jake’s face and they’ll start a pissing contest on how to woo me…and Bob,” you look around to make sure no one who knows you all is within earshot, “He’s sweet. Like, sooo sweet.”

Natasha tries not to crack a smile before you get your words out, but she certainly knows where the tail end of your sentence is going. “But it’s definitely not believable that we would be together and my aunt is one hell of an FBI agent and I’m sure he’d crack and rat us out and I’d have to sit there and eat my weight in tiramisu to drown my embarrassment.”

Business is painfully slow for a Thursday evening despite the upcoming weekend. Your eyes dart around the room to look for anyone to come and rescue you from this conversation (and even volunteer to be your date to your bitchy cousin’s wedding next weekend without you asking, but you know to only hope for one miracle at a time). And when your eyes turn up empty for an ample opportunity, your shoulders droop while Natasha snickers at you.

“Cut your losses and just ask him. I know he won’t say no,” she says, coy smirk at home on her face.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What is so wrong with him that you don’t wanna do it? Huh?”

You ponder on her statement before shaking your head. You’d rather be shot in the foot with a nail gun eight times than expose your silly little schoolgirl crush in the middle of the Hard Deck in front of his best friend turned your best friend since moving to the area five months ago.

“Why not Neil or Brigham? Or hell, even Mickey? I know he’s like, engaged, but Mariella is so freakin’ sweet and I know she’d understand so like-”

“Mmm-mmm. No, no, and hell no.” Your frown plasters itself on your lips faster than you can comprehend at her words. “Rooster or bust.”

Your spine straightens as you begin to engage in protest before you’re cut off by the man himself.

“Rooster or bust, what?” he asks, lips coming out to lick the dryness of the San Diego sun away. Your knees start to buckle and you can hear Natasha stifle a laugh as you try to conceal your lack of balance.

He stands in front of you, hand on his hips and sunglasses tucked on the tight, white tank top underneath his button-down shirt. Today’s print was red with cream-colored hibiscus flowers and you wonder how he could pull them off so well. If it were anyone else, you would have had to try your hardest to keep it together with Natasha in front of you; the jokes about touristy dads and low-budget porn actors in the works.

You realize he’s waiting for an answer as you see Natasha getting called away to sing karaoke with Javy and the gang out of the corner of your eye.

Great. Just fucking great.

“Taking bets on who the best pilot is or?” Bradley speaks, trying to get to the bottom of the small fragment of the conversation he had walked into.

“I-,” you stammer.

Fuck. Can someone just come to the bar and order so I can avoid this?

“You?” he looks at you through his eyebrows comically. Everything he does makes you nervous.

“I-,” the lines in his forehead raise with the infliction of your voice, “I need a favor. Like a big one.”

“Okay,” he laughs, “How big are we talking?”

“Umm-”

“Like ‘giving you my other kidney’ big or letting you borrow my car big?” he interrupts.

“Well-”

“Or do you need me to house sit? Dogsit? Babysit?”

You inhale as you place your hands on the countertop. Your eyes find his honeyed-colored ones and you almost drown in them before your pride kicks in.

I cannot embarrass myself in front of him.

“I need you to come to a wedding,” you speak gently. You can see the wheels turning in his head without him having to say anything. Bradley’s face always gave his thoughts away.

“If you don’t have plans, of course.”

The realization of what you had just said starts to kick you upside the head the longer you look at him. He doesn’t say anything. His face doesn’t move at all. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t even blinked yet.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“And if you’re comfortable! Obviously!” you start to ramble before you can convince yourself to shut the hell up, “It’s next Saturday in Long Beach near the seaside. You don’t have to say yes or anything but I just thought I’d ask because I had a plus one when I had a boyfriend eight months ago and now-”

“I’ll go.”

“-we’re not together anymore and my bitchy cousin is the one getting married who, by the way, makes everything a competition but that’s beside the point. But I know my mom is gonna be pissed if I don’t bring someone because my aunt is her sister and she’ll bitch about how they wasted money and how my mom is running out of time to become a grandma because I’m not married yet and that’s totally not true because I’m not even thirty so my biological clock hasn’t even started ticking yet but -”

“Hey!” he raises his voice slightly, amusement hidden in his tone, “I said I’d go with ya, kid.” He steps forward to put his hands on your bare shoulders. You try not to melt into his touch.

“S’all good. I love weddings and the beach. Promise it’s not a hassle.”

You’re dumbfounded by his response and how collected he is about your word vomit, not to mention being invited to a wedding where he’ll meet not only your parents, but your entire extended family in a little over a week. You know for certain you wouldn’t have handled the situation as calmly as he had.

“You - you’ll…go?” The sound of Britney Spears’s “Toxic” and Jake absolutely murdering the high notes in the back of the bar is the only thing keeping you from spiraling into another dimension.

“Well, I’m not a liar,” he sits down on the seat Phoenix was previously occupying, “I don’t just say things I don’t mean.”

Your head nods solemnly in silent understanding, your hands grabbing a glass to pour him a whiskey on the rocks. He raises his eyebrows in suspicion at you knowing what his usual drink is, but throws away the thought to comment on it before it can even develop all the way. The subtle pang in his chest of you taking that much notice of him makes itself known. He would be lying if he was to say he didn’t hold a brightly lit candle for you.

You’re a regular, Bradshaw. Get your head out of your ass.

“To be honest,” you start, placing the chilled glass in front of him, “that sounds a lot like something a liar would say.”

He gives you a soft smile as he reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet. “Well good thing that I’m not one then, right?”

Your heart flutters in nervousness and with about as much grace as a stampede of elephants. You’re positive that Bradley can see the outline of it beating out of your chest.

“No, no, no. Your drink is on the house.”

He shakes his head, forcing the twenty dollar bill that lays in between his fingers next to the scrap paper you have laying near the register. “No, I insist.”

“No, I insist. It’s on me, Bradley.”

He cracks a soft smile as he forces the money into your hand. His fingers wrap yours around the beat-up bill that has definitely seen better days. “That just won’t do ma’am.”

“I”m awaiting Bar results, not living in a shoebox on I-405. I assure you that two dollars and sixty cents won’t break the bank.”

The loud scrapping of a bar stool against the hardwood floor (which will probably leave a noticeable scratch in the hardwood flooring that Penny will pretend not be upset about) interrupts the cocoon of the world that existed with just you and him. Just you and Bradley…and Jake Seresin’s loud ass mouth yelling, “Bradshaw! What the hell, man? Get your ass over here and sing some Journey with me!” across the bar.

He shakes his head in disbelief and if you didn’t know any better (didn’t feed into your delusions, is more like it) you would almost think that he was…disappointed? That he didn’t want to leave you and that he was almost as desperate as you to give each other attention; eyes fully and ears solely attuned to the other.

Hoots and hollers and the sound of his call sign being screamed from his rowdy group of friends make the delusion hard to manage, and the reality finally kicks in that he’s not here for you. He’s here for them.

You wish you weren’t so good at hurting your own feelings sometimes.

“Your spotlight awaits you,” you sigh, trying not to show how dejected you felt to him.

A beat of silence passes before he slides his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Here.” He snatches your blue glitter gel pen off the table, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he begins to write. “Text me the details?”

He offers a slight smile that makes your words catch in your throat; the butterflies dinging around in your stomach begging you to reach out and touch him. To lean forward. To say something. To do something. Anything.

But before you can he’s zipped across the bar and the sound of Call Me by Blondie inflates the room. You look down at the cerulean ink with specks of shimmer in it.

xxx-xxx-xxxx Call me, kid! Bradley B

You’re definitely not gonna call him anytime soon…

“Sweetheart, I love you, but if you dry those glasses one more time I think I’ll have a brain aneurysm.”

Penny snatches the dish towel from your hands as your mouth gapes in silent protest. She throws it lazily on the countertop and snags the crate of beer glasses that you were going to town on away from you. The clinging sound of the dishes makes your head droop with disappointment.

“I wasn’t done yet! They still feel slippery! ”you complain and she just teasingly shakes her head.

“So?”

She winks at you and you have to find it in your heart not to be a little annoyed at her for cutting your task off mid-attempt.

Perfectionism fuels your life and she knows this. She knows that you’re using the glasses to stress clean. She knows that your cousin’s wedding weekend starts on Friday and you’re fighting the urge to tear your hair out. She also knows that you have Bradley’s phone number on a slip of paper that’s burning a hole through your nightstand because you still haven’t called him.

“So?” you ask, lightly mimicking Penny’s statement, “Someone’s gonna drop the glass because they’ve never learned how to hold it the right way and then there’s gonna be glass shards everywhere and they’ll get hurt and-”

“You are such a worry wart, my dear. Reeelaaax,” she interrupts, placing her warm, nimble fingers on your shoulders.

The subtle sunburn you had gotten this past weekend is slowly starting to calm down, but the initial sting still startles you. She can see the small happenings of a frown starting to form on your lips and she decides to frown along with you. She spins you to face her and holds your forearms in her hands, offering them a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

It’s not a secret that Penny Benjamin takes pride in knowing her staff well and loving them even better. In the five months she’s gotten to know you, she’s taken you in as one of her own without making her love for you about her. That was kind of her thing; knowing all without having to be told and giving so selflessly without having to ask if you were in need.

Penny just got it, and it’s hard to find people like that nowadays; people who love you genuinely and truly expecting nothing in return.

The thought of her warmness makes you sniffle, and you’re sure that if the jukebox wasn’t turned on and playing some Beach Boys tune, the tears would’ve made their way down your face at a speed that Formula One drivers would envy.

“I know what it feels like to have your every movement judged and not being able to say anything to defend yourself,” she starts, “But you’re smart. You’re kind. You’re so important. And you’re nothing less than amazing, so don’t let anyone treat you like you aren’t.”

You can’t muster up the words to keep the conversation alive. You’re sure that all that would come out of your mouth is a blubbering mess you don’t feel like trying to force out in between choked sobs. Besides, the car doors closing in the parking lot alert you both to the Wednesday night crowd making their way in.

You settle for a small “thank you” before she cracks another smile at you; lips quirked up in amusement. She saunters off to the back to grab the bucket of prepped lime wedges.

“You never have to thank me for the words you deserve, sweetheart. Those are on the house.”

You snort before wiping your nose with the back of your hand. Only she could manage to subdue the mini meltdown brewing in the depths of your chest. But Penny was just like that.

Always calm, cool, and collected.

The night moves slowly in a frame-by-frame manner (one that emulates the night you asked Bradley to be your date, but you shake the thought whenever it tries to enter your head because you think you may actually puke). It’s nothing too out of the ordinary for a Wednesday night.

Mickey and Mariella pop in for mango margaritas after their weekly date night. Mickey gives you a small “hello” before flashing you a knowing smirk. You try to ignore Mariella swatting at his chest, but the imagery eats you up inside. You know that he knows and that she knows, and not taking the steps to actually ask Bradley to a wedding you invited him to makes you feel guilty.

He picks up on your guilt when his eyes catch you twisting your ring around your pointer finger. His eyes soften and he almost considers apologizing to you before he thinks about it. Bringing more attention to it would embarrass you more, he figures. The apology sitting on his tongue is swallowed down with a sip of his drink and Mariella’s kick to his shin.

“Well, we’re about to head out. We’ll see you Friday?” Mickey declares as Mariella narrows her dark eyes at him.

Your heart stops and your fingers feel numb.

Fuck. He wants to bring up Bradley. What do I say? Fuck. Shit. Wait. How does he even know? Has Bradley brought me up? Fuck, wait. He wouldn’t do that. Why would he even be talking about me? He probably told them that I’m obsessed with him and he was cornered and couldn’t say no and-

“Uh? Are you good?” Mickey looks at you with soft eyes and waves his hand in front of your face.

Mariella slaps it down from in front of you. “Don’t do that. She’s not a fucking dog, Mick.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Duh. I know that. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t having a seizure or anything like that.”

“A seizure?”

“They’re called absence seizures. Went down a whole YouTube rabbit hole about them a couple of nights ago.”

You chuckle at their antics and can’t wait for the day they finally have their wedding. At least when the time comes you know you won’t have to forge a story about having a boyfriend. And it’ll be a wedding filled with people you actually like; ones that don’t make you order water out of feeling insecure about how many calories you’re consuming or ones that gossip about the shade of blush you wore making you look too “flushed” behind your back.

“I go down rabbit holes all the time,” you chide, “I watched this documentary about the Pentagon Papers and the atomic bomb from World War II the other day, and now I’m confident I could get my Ph.D. in like, Historical American Screw-Ups.”

Mickey and Mariella let out chortles at your statement before starting to head toward the exit.

“Well, we’ll see you later then. Tell us about that wedding on Monday?”

Your mouth hangs open as they stride out the front doors of Hard Deck. The shock of what just happened makes your heart beat erratically.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! He told.

Mike Metcalf sits at the corner of the bar top on his regular stool with his sweating glass housing a whiskey neat. He sends you a teasing smirk as you move near him to wipe the countertop down.

“Still haven’t texted him?” he asks.

The shock continues to run through your body. You have to place your hands on the edge of the table to keep yourself from stumbling over.

Why does everyone in this bar know what’s going on?

Admiral Metcalf was friendly with you - one of those regulars who offer you engaging conversation, tidbits of grandfatherly affection, and generous tips.

You would tell him not to tip you so much for a single drink, but he would always insist; quoting something along the lines of you reminding him of his granddaughter and that you treated everyone with such kindness and respect that you deserved it back tenfold.

You take a deep breath, arms pushing you up slowly to stand upright. “I’m scared to ask how you know.”

He chuckles, a real belly laugh, and you struggle to find out why you can’t piece together a logical explanation for how he would know.

“Well, apparently Baby Goose’s been losing his mind ‘round the base about how this really smart and sweet girl invited him to a wedding and won’t text him about it.” He shrugs before taking a long drink from his glass. “Thought it sounded like you. I meant to ask about it the other night, but once you turn eighty you forget things at the drop of a hat.”

“Smart and sweet?” you want to ask, but you know that it would confirm rather than get you the answers that you want. You shake your head to dislodge the thought before furrowing your eyebrows.

“. . . Baby Goose?”

The older man plays with the paper coaster underneath his drink. A soft smile blooms on his lips. “We’re talking about Bradley Bradshaw. Correct?”

You start to drum your fingers against the lip of the bar top. The thought of lying briefly crosses your mind until the sound of James Brown’s shriek at the beginning of “I Got You (I Feel Good)” startles you.

“Uhh, hello? You still there, kiddo?”

I have got to get better at answering quicker.

You straighten your spine and pop your hand on your hip. “Wouldn’t the correct terminology be ‘gosling’?”

He raises his brows, “Rooster. Baby Goose. Bradshaw. Gosling,” he rattles off, counting the phrases on his fingers, “Does any of this ring a bell?”

You chew on your lip. The toe of your sneaker slides underneath the sole of your other one. The fidgeting tells Admiral Metcalf all he needs to know.

“Maybe,” you say under your breath.

“Maybe?” he questions. He leans forward to investigate your expression with his eyes.

Another sigh exits your lips. “Okay, well, maybe a little.”

You sound defeated, he thinks. He decides to investigate even though he can hear his wife’s voice in his head telling him not to. If he turns his head just a little bit to the right, his hearing aid catches the sound of the jukebox. He can’t focus on you talking and his wife’s voice if he also hears the jukebox.

Sorry, Carrie.

His chair swivels a little bit and he wipes his hands on his jeans. “It’s certainly more than a little, kiddo. Especially if you asked him to a wedding.”

You scoff, annoyance painting the inside of your brain. Nosiness is one thing you absolutely cannot stand, and it’s the reason why you insisted on not moving back in with your mom after law school. Working yourself to the bone to study for the Bar during the day while mixing drinks and popping caps off of beer bottles at night seemed worlds better than having your privacy invaded constantly. Tired or private. From where you stand currently, it’s safe to say you picked the latter.

Or so you thought.

“So is this just a thing?” You can feel your heart rate speed up as you start to become defensive. “Like, a trend where all you Hard Deck patrons like to gossip and spread rumors?”

“It’s not a rumor if it’s true.”

You almost roll your eyes but the politeness you were raised with paired with your people-pleasing won’t let you.

“Yeah, but it’s technically gossip if you didn’t hear it from me,” you state directly, “How do you even talk to all these people on the base? Aren’t you retired?”

Admiral Metcalf chuckles. “I may be in bed by 8 every night but it doesn’t mean I’m not social, my dear.”

“Okay, but why would your connections be talking to you about Gosling?” You lean on your forearms and glance at the cash register to make sure someone isn’t waiting to be served. Your eyes glance back to the older gentleman sat in front of you. “Aren’t you guys like. . .fifteen generations removed from each other?”

He gently pats your arm with his calloused palm. “You’re a funny girl.”

“You’re dodging my question,” you frown, sitting up straight and grabbing him his usual glass of water he drinks before he decides to go home.

He mouths a quick “thank you” before taking a sip. “Did it ever occur to you that I was a pilot?”

The wheels in your brain start turning to decipher why he would say that and how it would mean that he and Bradley know each other.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“And a Top Gun instructor.”

“Okay. . .?” You’re starting to get the hint now, but it still just seems like a lot of abstract events put together.

“I taught Maverick and Goose.”

Penny’s “boyfriend, not-boyfriend” who comes in to pick her up or hang out on days when the crowd is as dead as a cemetery. Maverick.

But who’s -

“Goose?” you ask, finishing your question out loud.

“Bradley’s father.”

And shit. Oh shit. Fucking shit!

“I- You- Wait-” you stammer. He simply sips on his water, amusement painted on his features at the signs of your internal panic.

“So that’s how I know. I keep in touch with Maverick and he just happened to mention the absolute mess Rooster’s been the past couple days about this wedding,” he declares, “Which, by the way, is kind of rude to invite someone and then not go into detail about it. Don’t you think?”

Your mouth opens and closes in shock, the magnitude of your recent revelation being endorsed by the silence coming from you.

Your brain can’t even begin to wrap around all the degrees of separation and acquaintances and friendships Bradley has from the bombshell of information that was just dropped on you. This place is just littered with people who probably knew him before he was Rooster; all puppy fat and awkward haircuts. You bet there’s probably a series of his prom and high school graduation photos that circulated from eye to eye.

But this also means that if you go through with it, that if you actually bring him with you to Long Beach this weekend, you’ll become part of that essence of knowing - everyone knowing what Bradley told them and your entire weekend spent with him being a topic of discussion.

You try to get over the dehumanizing feeling that will come with being called “Hard Deck Girl” after this weekend when he inevitably tells Maverick about his weekend who will then tell Iceman who will probably tell Admiral Metcalf. You can’t bear to think about all the snickers and teasing that will come from Bradley’s group of friends.

Hangman loves to tease you already. You don’t think you’ll survive more “pigtail pulling” if word gets out about Bradley having to hold your hand and awkwardly slow dance with you on Saturday.

Admiral Metcalf lets out an impressive-sounding whistle that catches your attention and brings you back to Earth.

“That’s one gorgeous Bronco,” he comments, head turned to look outside the windows of the bar. “Used to have one just like it years ago.”

Your eyes follow his gaze to see the cobalt blue vehicle parked in one of the empty spaces of the parking lot. The headlights fade as the owner steps out of the vehicle and -

Fuck!

He has a soft bounce in his strut. His Raybans are tucked into the collar of his white t-shirt. The light-wash denim of his jeans hugs his legs just the right way. His slightly rosy cheeks and tanned forearms bulging from his shirt make him unmistakable.

Bradley Bradshaw is about to walk into the bar. On a Wednesday night. While the crowd is drier than the Mojave.

And there’s nowhere for you to run.

He has a slightly faster pace set to his walk than he usually does. . . Not like you spend your time watching him walk (even though you do, and you’d rather roll over and die than admit that to anyone).

“Good luck getting him back on that perch,” Admiral Metcalf speaks up. He opens his worn leather wallet and fishes out a fifty-dollar bill. “He won’t fly back up there once he gets off.”

You follow him to the cash register to ring him up. The drawer is opened and the bills counted for his change before he stops you.

“Keep it. Part of your tip,” he says, “Least I can do for all the trouble I’ve caused you tonight.”

You begin to thank him before the saloon-style doors open and Bradley stands dead in the center, hands on his hips and eyes grazing the surroundings.

“Good luck, kiddo. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it,” Admiral Metcalf says before turning on his heel. He claps Bradley on the shoulder as a brief greeting and continues his stride outside to the parking lot.

Your heart starts beating in your chest erratically; a tell-tale sign of white hot panic that makes your knees buckle and heat grow on your scalp.

And you’re. . . starting to sweat?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Bradley spots you while you stand paralyzed at the cash register. Your fingers are shaky and a lump in your throat starts to form. You feel like a deer in headlights when he begins to stalk forward to approach you.

“I’ve gotta bone to pick with you, missy,” his voice booms, his steps coming to a halt.

His hands spread and turn as he leans on the table; eyes locked on your face.

Your adrenaline kicks in and your feet start to move faster than your brain. A harsh swallow plagues your throat before you book it to the kitchen; french braid slinging heavy on your back and the bucket of lime wedges on your mind.

Bradley zips around the oval-shaped bar top and grabs your waist before you make it out of the opening. His hands squeeze your sides softly. If you were in your right frame of mind, your cheeks would have flushed.

“Uh-uh,” he says, whipping you around to face him. His grip falls to your forearms; holding you firmly but not enough to hurt. “What’s your deal, kid?”

His breaths are exasperated. When he left work today, he had no idea that he would be chasing you around the bar like a goddamn dog who had gotten off its leash. Despite being in good shape (which he takes pride in, given the number of shirtless runs he does in his neighborhood) he still finds himself a little winded.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head. His touch feels electric and you feign the ability to even think about opening your mouth to respond. Bradley Bradshaw is here, right in front of you, and almost holding you hostage.

Hostage is dramatic, you think. But so is chasing me.

“I-” you start. Another harsh swallow forces its way down your throat. At this point, you think that swallowing your spit is the only way you can remind your body to breathe.

Bradley’s eyes soften at your frazzled state. He takes his hands off of you and drops them back to his sides.

“I- I need to get the lime wedge bucket,” you rush out, the entire sentence sounding like one phrase.

“Let me come with you,” he says.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You’re not allowed back there.”

“Yeah well, you’re not allowed to ghost me about a wedding you invited me to, but look where we are,” he counters back. His legs start toward the kitchen hidden behind gray steel doors near the back.

You stand frozen; trying to catch your breath and looking around to still see an empty bar with no signs of life.

“Are you coming or not?” he calls out, a smile on his face juxtaposed to the annoyed expression he wore a few minutes ago when he caught you.

And if it were anyone else, you would be utterly annoyed. You would refuse and start rattling off how it’s a health code violation for patrons to be in the back serving area or how it was inappropriate or how you didn’t want anyone to come in and clean out the Hard Deck while you were distracted.

But because it’s Bradley and because you have this stupid big fat school girl crush on him, you don’t say anything even though you so badly want to.

He’s already a little annoyed with me, you think. He doesn’t want to hear me ramble on top of that.

Your sneakered feet follow him into the terracotta quarry-tiled kitchen in the back. He moves to the side to allow you to step in front of him in pursuit of the infamous lime wedge bucket you had your heart set on.

The silence between the two of you is deafening, but you can’t even rub two of your brain cells together to form a coherent sentence that won’t leave you hunched over in embarrassment. Having a crush as an adult is downright embarrassing. But having a crush as an adult on an older, more refined adult is absolutely humiliating.

The industrial refrigerator stands sleek and tall. The door weighs as heavy as it looks and you damn near pull your shoulder out of socket every time you attempt to open it. More than often, Penny has to come save you and open it because you can never seem to get the resistance of the rubber door gasket to give way.

Thankfully, the door opens with a heavy tug and the bucket of limes was left on a shelf you could reach. You pop the fridge door closed with your hip before you start a fast-paced walk back to the bar; leaving Bradley behind to scramble up to you once again.

In hindsight, your body language and lack of talking makes you seem furious and annoyed. And maybe you are, but it’s mostly frustration and annoyance pointed at yourself because you can’t just be fucking normal.

No, because you have to be the odd one out of your family. You have to be the one cousin who got dumped by her “perfect” dentist boyfriend (who treated you terribly, but you never complained aloud to your family for your fear of being called ungrateful and unbecoming). You have to be awkward and sensitive and young with a silly-ass schoolgirl crush on a gorgeous man who David of Michelangelo envies.

The bucket of lime wedges is slammed on the counter before you realize what your hands are doing.

Bradley rounds in front of the cash register, a sheepish look on his face. “Hey, kid,” he whispers, “I’m sorry for barging in on you like that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

A wave of guilt breaks the tide in your brain. He’s apologizing, and it’s sincere. It’s certainly not anything you’re used to. Usually, everything is your fault and you find yourself pushing your feelings aside to accept a half-assed apology.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have invited you to something that’s such a big deal and then refused the details,” you say.

And you should stop there, you know, but you do that stupid thing you do about having to over-explain everything and keep going. Word vomit to the maximum.

“I mean, I think I kind of bombarded you about it? I know you said that you would go and that you didn’t mind, but it’s really a lot to ask of someone to come with you and fill in for your ex in front of your shitty family who has a cow because you didn’t get married right after undergrad.”

You rock back and forth on your heels and you pinch your fingers together to help soothe yourself. The anxiousness exuding off of you is obvious and Bradley can’t help but feel extremely guilty for making you feel horrible on top of what feelings you were already dealing with.

“You can really say no, Bradley. My feelings won’t be hurt if you do. Honest,” you whisper, finishing your statement.

Feeling small isn’t foreign to you in the slightest.

His eyes soften even more. He recognizes the doubt written all over you. He’s felt that way so many times before.

“I said what I meant, and I really wanna go to that wedding with you. Honest to God, I mean it,” he says, taking a seat on a stool nearby. “I just need to know what the plan is so I can pick you up and everything. Don’t want my suit to clash with your dress now, do we?”

A small giggle leaves your lips. “Alright, Casanova. You’ve convinced me.”

He extends his hand out to you. “Deal?” The large palm looks inviting, but you’re sure the adrenaline coursing through your veins has made your hands clammy.

Your brows knit together and your lips pull themselves into a straight line. “What the hell are you doing?” Suddenly, you’re self-conscious about the potential armpit stains that may have soaked your tank top.

Goddamn nerves.

He contorts his expression into one of faux offense. “Making you shake on it. What the fuck does it look like?”

You let out a breath through your nose. “I mean, exactly that, but don’t you think that’s too. . .”

“Sophisticated? Formal?” He grins as if he had just won the lottery.

“Little Rascals -esque.”

Bradley kisses his teeth before laughing. “You’re never too old to relish in the magic that’s The Little Rascals.”

“What happens if I don’t shake?” you question, fingers drawing circles on the surface near the cash register, “Will I be a target of the He-Man Woman Haters Club?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t confirm but I can deny only if you shake on it and promise me a dance.”

You shake your head before he finishes his sentence.

“I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Then I’ll make sure my dress shoes are steel-toe,” he reasons, shrugging his broad shoulders. His biceps subtly flex and you almost bite your lip but the fact that he’s so close and can see your expression makes you withhold.

“You really wanna go still?”

“How many times do I have to say yes, kid? I want to go with you and I promise you that we’ll have the best time ever. Is that clear enough?”

Penny waltzes back in before you can answer. Her eyes hold a mischievous glint as they look at the interaction going on between you and Bradley. She sends you a soft wink before she joins you behind the bar.

“Bradley!” she greets with a grin, coming to come rest next to you and in front of his seat.

“Hey, Pen. Mav taking you out on the bike today?”

She subtly bumps your hip with hers. She’s about to stir up some trouble.

“No, no,” she sighs, “I have to close up here tonight so we’re going this weekend.”

Bradley nods as you stand frozen next to her.

“Speaking of weekends,” she chirps, “What are your plans, Bradley?”

I love Penny. I love Penny. I love Penny. If I say it enough, I won’t wanna kill her.

“Oh, the kid and I were planning on going to her cousin’s wedding in Long Beach. We were actually just talking about it,” he answers as Penny lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh thank God. The suspense of if she was actually gonna talk to you about it was killing us.”

“Us?” you ask, voice filled with irritation and concern.

“Me, Pete, Tom, Mike,” Penny lists, “Jake and Rueben started a money pool. Guess Hangman’s a hundred and twenty dollars richer now.”

You groan and pinch your nose between your fingers as Penny takes your shoulders into her palms and rubs them. She picks up a crate of shot glasses before turning to leave.

“Bradley?” she calls, and his ears perk up.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Stay out of my kitchen,” her eyes narrow playfully, “That’s a health code violation.”

He holds his hands up with a grin. “You got it.”

“You kids have fun this weekend. Gonna have to take tons of pictures and show them to me!” she exclaims before disappearing behind the same steel doors Bradley had followed you into earlier.

A beat of silence passes; partly because you’re so stunned by what had just occurred.

“So,” he clears his throat, “Now that I know you’re old enough to have watched The Little Rascals, what’s the plan? Like is this an overnight thing or a reception thing or?”

You perk up at his question.

“Oh, umm.” You subconsciously pick at your cuticles before forcing yourself to stop. Your mom and aunt would be disappointed to see them ripped to shreds. “So I kinda - well, it’s an overnight thing but we definitely don’t have to stay overnight.”

He nods his head, ears intently listening to what you’re saying. You think he’s nodding his head to queue up a firm decline to your plans despite his insistence on going with you.

“I mean, you don’t have to! You can like, drive home and come back the next day? Or not go to the rehearsal dinner and just meet me at the wedding? I just know that sleeping in the same room is gonna be weird and I think my room reservation only has one bed because like I said, I had a boyfriend whenever they booked it and I never changed it after we broke up and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he interrupts your word vomit, “Breathe, kid. Breathe.”

You take a deep inhale in and you want to kick yourself for doing it at his request.

Are you just gonna do whatever Bradley tells you to do, or do we actually have a fucking mind of our own?

“Why would I leave you hanging like that? Huh?” He licks his lips subtly and you have to keep from drooling. “You asked me to come with you and I’m gonna go the whole time and have a blast.”

You nod your head. Your thoughts and emotions have been bouncing off the wall in a vapid fashion from the two hours you’ve been clocked in.

“Okay,” you whisper shakily.

“Okay,” a laugh jumps from his throat and he leans in closer. “Can I get your number, at least? So I can call you instead and make it easier?”

You’re reaching beneath the bar and grabbing aimlessly at the mason jar full of random gel pens and a roll of open receipt paper that was too short to be put inside the machine but too long to be thrown away.

Lime green glitter ink spells out your phone number on the stark white paper before you wordlessly slide it over to rest near Bradley’s fingertips.

He sends you a smile before pulling out his phone and typing the number into the keypad. You have to look away because if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll start hyperventilating.

Your cell phone buzzes in your back pocket once, twice, thrice.

“Are you…calling me?” you ask, head tilting to the side to meet his mischievous glint.

“Context clues, kid. C’mon,” he replies. He holds his phone to his ear as he listens to the dial tone.

You stand in disbelief in front of him.

He shoos you with his hands. “Go on! Answer!” he urges.

You sigh and playfully roll your eyes before slinging your phone out of your back pocket. You click the green phone icon on your screen before bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Alright, missy. What’s the address I’m picking you up from Friday afternoon?”

Bradley Bradshaw may not be your boyfriend and probably will never be, but he sure knows how to play the part well enough to fool your family. He may even have you fooled too.

“Shit!” you yelp. Your upper body tenses up and you slam your curling iron on the countertop of your bathroom sink.

The strong vibrations of your phone ringing move your device closer to the edge. You scramble to pick it up and bring it to your ear. You didn’t bother looking at the caller ID before answering. Odds are, it’s either your mother or your only cousin that you can actually stand, Hallie.

“Fuck,” you whisper before clearing your throat, “Hello?”

You flash your neck in the mirror, fingers dancing around the irritated baby pink skin surrounding the already darkening magenta wound. The skin feels hot to the touch and you know that its placement makes it look more like a hickey than anything. Your mind starts to wonder if putting makeup on it would be a bad decision.

“Hey, kid.”

Fuck. Bradley. It’s Bradley. I forgot about Bradley!

“I’m outside.” You take a deep swallow that you pray he can’t hear over the phone. “You said the house with the purple hydrangeas near the front steps. Right?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Am I this fucking stupid that I can’t even think of another word to use right now?

The long pause doesn’t make Bradley hang up.

“Kid? You okay in there?” The sound of a car door slamming can be heard through the receiver. You listen to the Carlsons down the street mowing their lawn. A few dogs are barking and the sound of Bradley’s shoes hitting the pavement plays a symphony with the bliss of what is a Friday afternoon at 2 PM encapsulates.

His knuckles rap against your front door and you audibly gasp. Your finger hangs up the phone before sprinting to let him in. The flutters in your stomach make you feel like you might projectile vomit any second. No amount of pep talks you had given yourself in the past two days can prepare you for the events of this weekend; not to mention Bradley and your big fat crush on him being the cherry on top.

You swing the door open; a shocked Bradley staring at you and a frenzied heart damn near beating out of your chest.

“I’m not ready yet!” you exclaim, turning your back and rushing back into your bathroom. You move so swiftly that you don’t even notice the bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand.

Fuck! The curling iron is still on.

Bradley lets out a laugh. “Well, hello to you too.”

You pick the iron back up and finish curling the piece of hair you had started on before being interrupted.

“Sorry!” you shout back, “Give me five and I’ll be ready to go.”

Bradley lets out a puff of air he didn’t know he had been holding in. If someone had asked him a month ago where he thought he would be spending a Friday afternoon in mid-March, he probably said he wouldn’t know for sure.

Which is true.

He’s worked out a schedule where he’s able to leave work by 11 AM on Fridays and what he does is often a wild card; his Fridays range anywhere from mundane errands to impromptu skydiving endeavors with Coyote and Phoenix. He might even go for a quick afternoon surf session if he feels up to it.

He’ll admit, sometimes he imagines spending his Friday afternoons with you. In one timeline, he convinces you to ride down the coast with him at sunset. Another has you laying on your stomach at the beach with your nose shoved in a book pretending not to be ogling him while he surfs.

Bradley even lets his mind wander to the possible tan lines on your hips and how he would graze his thumbs just beneath your bikini bottoms to feel the fullness of the skin there, but then he realizes how inappropriate that may be, and he lets the thought sit in the back of his brain unwatered and underdeveloped.

Besides, he was raised better than imagining women naked. . .Even though he thinks you’re absolutely stunning both clothed and naked. . .And would love the opportunity to see you na-

That’s beside the point. Get it together, man.

His eyes survey the surroundings of your living room. Throw pillows and blankets. Candles on the coffee table. Books everywhere. Open windows create sunspots on the carpet. A vintage record player on the shelf of your bookcase and your Tango in the Night vinyl playing softly.

He likes to think that in another life (he’s hopeful for this one, but he’s learned what having too much hope does to a person) your blue fuzzy blanket has a home on his cream-colored couch or that your Fleetwood Mac vinyl finds solace next to his Otis Redding and James Brown records.

Bradley takes a seat on your couch. The brown butcher paper holding together the peony floral arrangement he had picked up crunches in his hand. The other pats along to the soft rhythm arrangement in time with “Mystified.” He can smell the faint scent of your perfume and the sounds of life you make, the small gasps and soft humming and whispered curse words, fill him with endearment.

He’s so wrapped up in melting into your aura that he doesn’t even realize that you had left the bathroom until you stood dead in front of him; curled hair, makeup on, and an electric blue dress laying flawlessly on the silhouette of your body.

You make his mouth dry and any words that he wants to say disintegrate with how amazing he thinks you look. Him not saying anything makes you panic and you wonder if you forgot to blend the bronzer near your neck or if your blush was too pink or if there was a piece of hair you had forgotten or if the dress you had on actually made you look like a frumpy version of Aquamarine (a lot of or, or, ors).

Bradley, please say something.

He sits up straighter upon seeing you. The navy blue dress pants on his long legs bring out the green in his hazel eyes. Your heart feels warm at the thought of him matching you; especially after offhandedly mentioning that you were thinking of wearing a blue dress to the dinner rehearsal.

Your eyes glance to his non-dominate hand and spot the pink peonies wrapped in butcher paper. The simple notion of him getting you flowers makes your knees weak, and the fact that he didn’t get them from the grocery store - that it was an arrangement that he had gotten from a florist - makes you wish you were a better woman and weren’t thinking of dropping to your knees right there in front of him and thanking him with a blowj-

He doesn’t even think you look pretty enough to say something. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.

“Oh,” he wipes his empty hand on the fabric of his pants, “These are for you.” He pushes the bouquet forward for your observation.

A smile is center stage on your lips as you grab them from his grasp. “Thank you. This is really kind of you, Bradley.” You turn to head into your kitchen to grab a vase.

She didn’t say they were pretty. Does she even like peonies?

The silence surrounding you both is deafening. If you could ignore the slightly prickly feeling of heat eating away at the hairline on the back of your neck, you can almost forget that Bradley is even here.

But the thing is, Bradley is here. He’s here and so present and you’re gonna have to give your poor heart a break from beating so fast if you want to survive this weekend without having a stroke.

All the thought does is make you even more nervous (as if that’s even fucking possible at this point).

“Okay, kid. If we’re gonna be together all weekend, this,” he points his finger between you and him, “Ain’t fucking happening. We need to tallllkkkk.”

You swallow. “I -We are talking.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Okay,” you whisper sheepishly, your bare toe grinding into the carpet. The friction sends a wave of heat to your otherwise numb toes. It’s unconventional, but at least it’s helping you feel something other than anxiety.

He nods his head before standing up. His eyes glance at the gold watch on his left hand. “Well, it’s 2:30 and the rehearsal dinner is at 5. We need to get going if we wanna beat traffic.”

“Okay.”

He sighs, watched wrist coming down to lay his hand flat across his stomach. “Talking means more than just saying ‘okay.’ That’s not a conversation.”

You pause for a moment. The flowers he had brought still rest in between the crease of your inner elbow. More silence ensues. You just don’t know what to say.

He starts heading down your small hallway. The whiff of his cologne kickstarts your reaction.

“Hey!” you say, starting to stalk after him, “What the hell are you doing?”

He snickers. “Grabbing your bags? I was serious about getting a move on. Don’t want your folks to think your boyfriend is a slacker now, do ya?”

Bradley grabs the two bags you had struggled to set outside your bedroom door with ease. You never forget how strong he looks (oggling at a guy three days out of the six you work will do that to you) but you always seem to forget how strong he actually is.

You close your mouth before you begin to drool. Bradley will for sure be talking about this weekend with his friends and uncle. You don’t want to add any more embarrassing details to the story. Besides, your awkward preteen pictures from your mom’s Facebook hadn’t even been brought up yet. Some room needs to be saved for your utter humiliation.

Your feet slide into the pair of heels you had set aside before you scramble to grab your keys and purse. How Bradley can move so quickly is beyond your thinking capacity as you haphazardly take the needle off of your record. Your eyes do a quick sweep over your living room to make sure that everything is turned off so you won’t magically come home to a fire safety example at the conclusion of your weekend.

Now, if you can just make yourself stop feeling so jittery, you might be able to actually manage to fit your key into the lock of your front door.

After what feels like three years (and the embarrassment of knowing Bradley probably watched you struggle), the keys are stuffed back into your purse before you pause on your porch.

A black Ford F-150 sits curbside to your driveway. It doesn’t fit in with the SUVs and small sedans that make up the neighborhood you live in. You had never seen a car like this where you lived at all. Come to think of it, you had never seen this truck ever.

Doesn’t Bradley drive a Bronco?

Your eyebrows remain wrinkled with your puzzled expression as he rounds the back of the car; the resounding noise of the back door shutting makes his entrance known. He opens the passenger door for you and stands next to it.

He squints as he looks up at you. The sun is blazing and he forgot to grab his sunglasses from his side of the door.

“Cold feet?” he calls.

You start to head down the stairs and onto the pavement. “It’s seventy-six degrees. I think cold feet is kinda ill worded.”

“It’s a saying.”

The crossed arms over your chest signal your apprehension. Bradley stands before you, leaning against the truck and his arm slung on the top of the cab. He raises his brows at you and does a gentle motion of his head to the seat, inviting you to climb in. Even next to the large vehicle, he still looks. . .huge.

In a good way! In a good way. He’s actually really fit and I’m shaking inside and I’m sure I’m sweating and I have got to stop wearing light colors in front of him because he can probably see the sweat and - Oh God. Oh God, the seats are leather. What if I sweat all over them?

The lump in your throat is swallowed as you stand before him. “This isn’t your car,” you say lamely.

He scoffs. “Spying on me? Do you have my license plates memorized too?”

You know he’s teasing and that he doesn’t mean it literally, but you almost answer, “yes” because you do. Thankfully, you’re in the stage of your anxiousness where you clam up instead of puking your words out.

You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowed because of the bright sun.

“How do I know it’s not stolen? What if we get pulled over because it’s stolen?” you wonder, and then the word vomit picks up and - “ I can’t go to jail! I had nothing to do with it and the ABA is gonna pull my Bar application if we get arrested and I spent too much damn money and worked too damn hard to let an F-150 ruin it for-”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters into a small laugh, “I know you love the Bronco,” he gives you a teasing look, “But the Bronco has no air and I figured that since we’re driving two hours on the highway, you would appreciate not having to ride with the windows down the entire time.”

“You still haven’t confirmed that it’s your car.”

“You know, for someone so smart, you are extremely bad at picking up on obvious context clues. Why the hell would I steal a pickup truck and then drive you to a wedding in it?”

You scrounge your brain for a reply. “. . .For the plot?”

He whistles and crosses his arms over his chest, mimicking your current stance. “Wow. I have a comedian for a date.”

“I’m serious. It could be a possibility!”

“Well I don’t think “felon” looks good next to “painstakingly handsome,” so I’ll pass.”

You remain standing in front of him. Stubbornness was a quality that your mother both loved and loathed and you know it, but Bradley has yet to see this side of you yet. Your arms wrap around your torso tighter and your eyebrows are raised every so slightly.

Bradley knows what you’re doing. He used to do it to Maverick all the time when he was growing up. You’re digging your heels in.

“C’mon. Don’t start poutin’ on me before I even get to disappoint you with my dancing,” he quips. He brings his face closer to yours before flashing you a toothy smile.

You sigh dramatically before letting him help you into the seat. The gentle “Atta girl,” he gives you pinkens your cheeks. You pray he won’t notice your flushed face when he sits on the driver's side of the car. Every interaction you’ve had with him has kept you tossing and turning at night because of your nervousness.

So many things you wish you could take back and so many ways you wish you could act normal; a never-ending cycle of “could’ve, would’ve, should’ve,” and the thought leaves a small seed of sadness in your stomach.

698 notes · View notes

aestheticpearl · 2 months

Text

— 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

✧·˚ three small moments when elias realized he was in love

𝓲.

“do you think if we met under better circumstances we would still be together?”

“yes.”

elias doesn’t even hesitate at your question and you feel you heart flutter at his confident answer.

“i would’ve asked you out regardless.”

you can’t help but grin.

“why?”

“i don’t want to sound creepy.” elias chuckles nervously and you join in his laughter in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

“come on just tell me, please.” you move closer to him on the couch and he places his arm around you.

“i thought you were really good looking and just my type. honestly if that bomb hadn’t gone off i probably would’ve gone home and thought about you till the next morning— i don’t know this sounds creepy.”

“no no it’s cute, i want to hear more.”

elias sighs in defeat before continuing.

“i don’t know something about you was just so eye catching. maybe it was the way you fidgeted with your fingers when you were waiting for a customer to come up for assistance or the way you adjusted your necklace like three different times in the same minute.”

“you really liked watching me huh?”

the obvious statement makes something in elias’ brain click. he’s never been so observant with anyone like this before, you’re the first that he’s ever been so invested in.

“yeah uh i guess i do.”

𝓲𝓲.

“you gotta stay still i’m not very good at this.”

you’ve been doing elias’ nails for at least a solid half hour, you keep seeming to mess up but thankfully elias seems to have the patience of a saint.

“you’re doing great. just take your time, i’m in no rush anyway.”

elias watches as you nod and continue carefully painting the black polish on his fingernails. with anyone else he would tell them to hurry up or just take over entirely, but once again with you it’s different.

he doesn’t feel the need to rush you or groan at the fact you’re taking so long to simply paint his nails. he should be getting upset and frustrated that such a simple thing as taken so long, but he can’t seem to care how long it takes while you’re here with him.

“okay i think that’s as good as they’re gonna get, i’m sorry i really tried.”

“nonsense they’re better than anything i could do.”

“really?”

he nods and for the next fifteen minutes elias explains how much he loves how well you did his nails. from how well the paint job is to the time you took to get it perfect just for him.

“you’re just saying that.”

“nah, i don’t like lying to you. i very much mean whatever i say to you.”

you feel your face grow warm at the honesty.

“thank you.”

𝓲𝓲𝓲.

you had been asleep on elias for over two hours now and elias himself just couldn’t find it in him to sleep as peacefully as you. he laid awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how much you’ve changed who his is. he started to wonder if maybe he had gotten too soft.

“elias..?”

your sleepy voice pulls elias out of his thoughts and he quickly looks down at you. he swears the image of you in that moment made his heart skip two beats. you look too cute, all sleepy with messy hair and your eyes barely opened. he clears his throat before speaking to you.

“what’s up? you okay?”

“nightmare.”

“i thought i felt you flinch awake. was it brewhouse again?” what else could it be? he thought to himself.

“it was just so loud, it startled me.”

“i get that, i’m right here if you need me.”

you move up to rest on the pillow with him instead of his chest and elias wraps his arm around your waist.

“i know, thank you.”

you close your eyes and rest your head a few inches away from his and elias watches as you fall back asleep.

he can’t help but lean his head against yours gently and decide to try to fall asleep once again.

he falls asleep with ease.

made with a glitter gel pen✨

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

#pearl’s ❤︎ works #zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuva headcanons #zsaku headcanons #zsakuva fan fic #zsakuva elias #zsaku #sakuverse elias #zsaku elias #elias x barista #boyfriend rp #audio rp #audio roleplay

72 notes · View notes

riseatlantisss · 1 year

Text

♧♧♧ Turn me Up ♧♧♧

Rockstar!Kyūma x gn!reader

TW : Fluff, light smut, our King of Clubs being hot AF, as per usual

1,2K words, part 2 soon :)

Widely inspired by THIS feel free to listen on repeat while reading ! The fact that there’s no full version of this song available is a crime and I might sue.

The Sology rocks the stage tonight. And Kyūma, the band’s singer who also happens to be your boyfriend, is on fire.

Tonight, in Tokyo, the place to be is The Sology concert. The venue is completely sold out and in the pit, people are standing absolutely jammed together, yelling, cheering, jumping up and down, pushing each other around. Girls from the front row are screaming I love yous at the top of their lungs. It’s ridiculous and amazing and perfectly fitting for the band. Even though everyone seems to be having the time of their life, you count yourself lucky to be able to enjoy the show from backstage, away from the madness. One of the perks of dating a rockstar.

Kyūma, standing right at the front and center of the stage, is clearly stealing the show. He looks ethereal, almost god-like and sounds fucking amazing. He glows and glitters and shines, you think, and don’t even bother to scold yourself for exaggerating, because you’re not. To you, Kyūma is everything. Seeing him bounce around on stage like he owns the place warms your heart. Up there, surrounded by bright lights and intense heat, he is completely in his element. You couldn’t be prouder of him.

You got a mind and a tongue of silver so,

His powerful, hypnotic voice echo through the whole venue, all the way back to the last rows. All of the energy of the room seems to be directed toward him. His dark eyes glitter brightly underneath the spotlight. All you can do is stare in awe. Sometimes you still can’t believe you get to have him as your boyfriend. It’s a gift beyond compare.

Please oh please I gotta get out.

Kyūma clutches the mic tightly and thrashes his head with excitement, his hair weeping accordingly, and the audience erupts. God he is fucking sexy. His broad shoulders and the rigid lines of his muscles are obvious underneath his black t-shirt, now soaked with sweat. He is a total shameless thirst trap on stage, but you think he’s hottest when he’s not even trying, when he laughs so hard he falls over, or distracted on his phone, his eyes wide and lips parted. When he performs, he looks deceptively smug and serious, but you know him better than anyone and you know that deep down he is a sweet, goofy, caring idiot. It was definitely that side of him that you fell in love with.

I can feel the same thing,

It’s coming down like a fever over me,

I ain’t feeling like that now with myself.

As the band members continue playing, they sing along with him, harmonizing and amplifying his voice. He grips his microphone and carries it with him, the dark wire trailing behind him as he turns towards you, facing away from the crowd. His eyes didn’t take long to find yours despite the blinding lights and thick smokes invading the stage. He now looks right at you, smiling a mischievous sort of grin, and you want to catch on fire and melt on the floor. Those signature looks he gives you, the ones he’s always given you ever since you met, filled with love, hunger and malice, will never cease to make your heart race and your knees weak. Even after all this time.

So turn me up right now!

He sings that line to you and you only. You smile wide and try to fight the impulse to run to him, jump into his arms and do things to him that are definitely not appropriate in public. He turns back to the crowd as they cheer louder than ever and winks at you one last time over his shoulder.

-------

The last song fades out and the crowd roars at the end, having sung along throughout the entirety of it, as you try to regain control of your racing heartbeat.

TOKYO! We’ll see you soon!

The lights come up and the crowd goes wild, cheering for the band, chanting their names as they walk to the edge of the stage and bow, hand in hand, waving goodbye to the crowd.

Kyūma immediately rushes over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you. Sweat is pouring down the sides of his face, his hair damp and his shirt completely soaked through, but you didn’t care. You put your hand behind his neck and tilt your head slightly to deepen the kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips. You slip your hand under his shirt, splaying it across his flat abs. After several long, hot seconds, he pulls his mouth away and breathes harshly against your throat, still riding the wave of euphoria from the performance.

“So, what did you think?” He pants.

“The show was absolutely amazing.” You wrap both arms around his neck. “You were amazing. Most of the time I was just… watching you and no one else.”

“Of course you’re a tad biased!” He chuckles and shakes his head, disbelieving and flattered, flushing just barely. He runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes crinkling in the most adorable way as he smiles. “You know, I was nervous before I got on stage, knowing you would be watching the entire show.”

“What?! Kyūma Ginji was nervous? That’s a first!”

He lets out a sarcastic huff of laughter. “I know, right! You should be flattered.”

You laugh and grab the buckle of his belt to pull him closer to you, further reducing the already thin gap between your bodies.

“You look so hot on stage.” You say, licking your lips. “I had a hard time having to just watch you from afar when all I wanted was to get my hands on you.”

“What, and you made me wait around until now?” Kyūma teases and pushes you against the venue wall behind you. He claims your mouth once more, more hungrily this time, like he’s been waiting all night. The kiss is quick to devolve into a sloppy make out session that’s all tongue and teeth and you find it harder and harder to restrain yourself. You want to kiss him harder. You want to undo his pants. You want him to rid you of all your clothes and to fuck you so ha –

“Alright boys, let’s make this quick!” Your foreplays are cut short by road crew members shouting and running around the stage to pack up the band’s gear. You almost forgot about all of this. About the fact that you are still in a public place. Lucky for the both of you, your apartment in Tokyo is private. And nearby. And it has a bed. And a couch. And a shower.

You discretely reach for his crotch and gently stroke his cock through his pants, as to give him a foretaste of what he could and should expect from you later. He is already so fucking hard. He throws his head back and moans loudly. You put a finger against his lips and whisper into his ear.

“Take me home, Kyūma.”.

He grins and looks at you with lustful eyes.

“Oh, it’ll be my pleasure.”

506 notes · View notes

rfxiii · 6 months

Note

I saw the winter prompts could you possibly do "You're the only gift I want to unwrap." For Franklin

Btw I love your work keep it up 💚

(Hii! Tysm for the request and the kind words! I hope I did your request justice! So sorry for the long wait 🙏)

All I Want For Christmas Is You

TW: smut

Word count: 2903

“Oh my god! This is hopeless!” you growl to yourself, flopping backwards onto the bed and glaring out the huge windows framing the large backyard at Franklin’s Vinewood home.

You’d spent the last three weeks agonizing over what to get him for Christmas. But unfortunately, Franklin was so damn easy to please that when you’d practically begged him to tell you what he wanted for his Christmas gift, he’d simply shrugged and said “I don’t need nothing. Seriously. Anything you get will be great.” But that wasn’t good enough for you. He was the perfect boyfriend, he was the perfect man. And there was no way you were going to get him some generic, boring present. He deserved the world.

You’d broken down last week and asked Lamar for help. But as close of friends as they were, that lanky goofball was little to no help. He’d suggested taking Frank to get a haircut, or maybe buying him some better clothes or a replacement for his “dusty, busted ass shoes.” But even that felt too basic for what he deserved. You’d even asked Michael for his opinion. But after they’d all received all of that cash from their Union Depository score, Michael had only shrugged and said “The kids got all the money in the world now. If he wanted it, wouldn’t he have it by now?”

You’re floundering for ideas now, but not deterred. There’s only one more day before Christmas, but you were not going to let this conundrum get the best of you. And with a new fire ignited inside you, you pull out your phone and call up Lamar yet again, “Lamar, listen! I’m dying here. I need help! Meet me at Rockford Plaza in twenty. Please! I still haven’t gotten Frank a gift, and I’m dying here!” you plead, pacing the bedroom in a growing panic.

“Ugh! Aight, aight! Damn, you really stressin’ about this. And we gotta go to the fancy ass mall?.. Fuck. Aight! I’ll meet yo’ ass there.” Lamar groans, and you hear shuffling in the background which thankfully signals him actually getting up to get ready to go.

“Oh my god! Thank you! Thank you, thank you! I owe you so big for this, Lamar! I’ll see you there!” you chirp, hanging up the phone and scrambling off to grab your jacket.

You’d planned on this shopping trip today, and had thankfully been able to wrangle Michael into your plan of helping get Franklin out of the house to avoid any suspicion. And now, with all your plans set carefully in place, you head off to meet Lamar for your last ditch effort in finding the perfect gift.

But unfortunately, this close to Christmas, your shopping trip proves to be anything but easy or relaxing.

You and Lamar hurry through the crowded plaza, your eyes darting from one shop to the next as you both try to contain your growing frustration. It's been almost an hour since you met at Rockford Plaza, and so far, all you've managed to find are a few mediocre presents that just don't seem quite right for Franklin. You can't help but feel like you're running out of time, and with each passing minute, the pressure to find the perfect gift for the man who wants nothing seems to intensify.

"I don't know, man," Lamar says, shaking his head as he studies a display of expensive colognes, "He's just so hard to shop for. I mean, what does he even like?"

You feel your brow twitching in irritation as you shoot him a look, “What do you mean, what does he like? You’re his best friend! How can you not-“ You stop your ranting and pull Lamar to a stop in front of a jewelry store, the glittering display of diamonds and precious gems catching your eye. "What about jewelry?" you suggest, feeling a pang of nervousness in your stomach. Jewelry like this is a big gesture, and you're not entirely sure if it's something that Franklin would even want. But as you look around, you can't help but feel drawn to the elegance and the beauty behind each piece.

Lamar shrugs, looking unsure. "I guess it won’t hurt nothin’ to look, right?" he says, following you into the store.

The saleswoman, a polished and professional woman with a knowing smile, approaches you both and inquires if she can be of assistance. You glance at Lamar, who seems to be growing more nervous by the second, and then back at the saleswoman, feeling a surge of determination. This is it. This has to be the one.

As you describe to the saleswoman the qualities that you admire about Franklin and the kind of person he is, you feel a warmth spreading through your chest. You're not just buying a present; you're expressing how you feel about him, how much he means to you. The woman shows you various pieces around the store, but when she shows you a stunning pair of black diamond earrings, you know immediately that this is it. This is the gift that gives everything you've been trying to say for the past three weeks.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat, and turn to Lamar, who is watching you with a mixture of anxiety at feeling out of place and hope that you’d finally found the right gift. "Lamar, I think I got it," you say, your voice trembling just a little. "What do you think?"

“Ya know what-..” Lamar mutters, gazing at the diamond studs inside the thick, glass case, “I think we got a winner.”

“Yeah?” you breathe hopefully, grinning up at him as you begin to imagine the surprise on Franklin’s face when he revived his gift.

“Yeah, homie.. Now, hurry up and let’s get the fuck outta here. I can’t put up with too much more a’ this shit.” Lamar snickers, his gaze darting around to the masses of people milling about frantically through the shops.

You grin at the saleswoman, pointing again to the earrings with a decisive nod, “These. We’ll take these, please!”

The price tag on the item nearly floors Lamar, and the expert wrapping skill of the sales associate has you gawking, as well. Finally, she places the perfectly wrapped box into an equally nice bag- decorated with shiny, black tissue paper. You give her your thanks and quickly lead Lamar back to where you’d left your vehicles.

“Aw, motherfucker!” Lamar growls, snatching the parking ticket off his vans windshield, “Double parked? Bullshit! This right here is a perfect park job!” He argues with absolutely no one.

You have the good grace not to mention his abysmal parking job. Instead, snatching the ticket from his hand and taking in the several hundred dollar fine he now owes, “Ya know what- Gimme this. I’ll pay for it as soon as the holiday is over. Like I said, I owe you so big, LD!”

“No shit? Aight, bet! Thanks a lot, homie!” Lamar chuckles in relieved disbelief. And as he watches you jog off to your car, he calls out to you with a big, cheeky grin, “An’ merry Christmas!”

“Yeah! Have a good Christmas, Lamar!” you shout back, feeling relief washing over you at finally having found the perfect gift.

You spend the rest of the day biting your tongue to keep from excitedly spilling your secret gift to Franklin. But the night is still nice together. Michael had taken him golfing, Trevor had joined them later on and gotten them kicked out, then they’d all been forced to go see one of Michael’s favorite, shitty, black and white films, before he’d come home and been happy for time to actually relax with you after trying to corral his two older friends all day. You’d had a nice dinner, spent time together watching tv, curled up together on the couch, before finally going to bed and leaving you struggling to sleep with your bubbling excitement.

The bright morning sunlight streams in through the window the next morning, casting a warm glow across the bed where you and Franklin lie. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that it's been a while since you've eaten, and with a contented yawn, you roll over to nuzzle into his neck. He hums sleepily, one hand absently stroking your hair as he nestles deeper into the pillows. You grin, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you murmur, leaning over to kiss him gently. "Think you can get up and help me make some breakfast?"

Franklin yawns, stretching his arms high above his head, before letting out a contented sigh. "I guess I could," he grins sleepily, sitting up and blinking blearily at the clock. "What are we having?"

As you watch him throw off the covers and pad over to the bathroom, you can't help but marvel at how comfortable you've become with him. It feels so natural to be here, sharing this space with him. Even as time passes, there's still an element of newness to it, a spark that keeps things exciting and alive. You know that this is where you're supposed to be, and that thought alone fills you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body.

While he's in the bathroom, you head into the kitchen and begin to rummage through the fridge. You pull out some eggs, bread, and some fruit, setting them all on the counter. The eggs sizzle in the pan as you chop up some avocado, thinking about how much he's going to love the surprise you have planned for him. You're so focused on your cooking that you don't notice him sneak up behind you until you feel his warm breath on your neck.

"Mmm, that smells amazing," he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You lean back into him, feeling the muscles in his chest and arms through his t-shirt.

"It's just a little something I threw together," you reply, glancing over your shoulder at him. "But I hope you like it."

He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in the scent of breakfast. "I'm sure I'll love whatever you make," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're the best cook I know."

When the food is finally ready, you serve it up on two plates and carry them over to the living room, setting them down on the coffee table. You watch as he takes in the spread, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Wow, this is... amazing," he breathes, looking up at you. "Thank you, babe."

You grin, feeling a rush of pride and happiness. "You're welcome. I hope you like it."

He takes a bite of the egg and avocado sandwich, savoring the flavors before swallowing. "It's delicious," he says, looking up at you again. "You really outdid yourself."

You blush, feeling the warmth spread from your cheeks down to your stomach. "I'm glad you like it." You hesitate for a moment, then reach over to grab the small box that you'd hidden behind a throw pillow earlier. Handing it to him, you watch as his expression changes from surprise to delight.

"Merry Christmas." you urge, your heart racing. He takes the box carefully, his fingers tracing over the intricate pattern on the wrapping paper. With a gentle tug, he pulls it off to reveal the black diamond earrings you’d searched so hard to pick out.

“Babe,-.. Holy shit..” Franklin gasps out, his fingers almost cautiously tracing the gems of the earrings.

His reaction is muted and shocked, and you begin to fear that maybe this isn’t even remotely something that he enjoys. But before you can panic too thoroughly, he’s letting out a disbelieving gasp and shooting you the brightest smile you’d seen since you’d agreed to go out with him, “This is…amazing! Holy shit! How’d you pick these out?” he gasps, the smile on his cheeks unwavering.

“You..like’em? Really? Oh my god, I’m so glad! Lamar and I were out all day looking for something to give you, and he was no help, and I was afraid you wouldn’t like these! But I saw’em, and I thought they’d look really nice on you, and I’ve spent all month panicking over what to get you, and-“

“Babe!” Franklin chuckles, cupping your cheeks to silence your frantic rambling, “These are perfect.” he coos before leaning in closer, “But really-.. You're the only gift I want to unwrap.”

He leans in, stealing your breath away when his warm, soft lips press to yours in the softest, slow kiss that has your heart fluttering and head spinning.

“I love you.” you gasp against his lips- your fingers knotting in the front of his shirt to pull him close.

“I love you too, babe.” Franklin mutters with a grin softly twitching his lips.

As you sit there, wrapped up in each other and the glow of the Christmas tree, the room feels impossibly warm and cozy. You lean in, pressing your lips against his again, feeling the familiar heat of his mouth against yours. He pulls you closer, one hand slipping beneath your sweater to stroke your back, the other tangled in your hair.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the moment, the rest of the world fading away into the background. And in this perfect, fleeting moment, you realize that you are exactly where you're meant to be.

The kiss deepens, and your heart races as you feel his hand slip under your shirt, tracing lightly over your skin. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself melting further into his embrace. You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, and you know that he can see the desire burning bright within them.

With a soft moan, he presses his lips to yours again, more urgently this time. You respond in kind, your hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you try to get it open. He helps you, his fingers deftly working the buttons loose before throwing the shirt aside, revealing his toned chest and soft skin.

You reach up, brushing your fingers over his hair, marveling at the feel of it between your fingers. He shudders at the touch, and you can feel the hardness of his erection pressed against your thigh. You pull him closer, feeling the heat from his body sear into your own, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as humanly possible.

"I love you," you sigh again, your voice barely more than a whisper as you gaze deeply into his eyes. And in that moment, you know without a doubt that it's true. He smiles, lips curving into a lazy grin as he responds, "I love you too."

As if the words themselves are a catalyst, your clothes seem to melt away, and you find yourself lying naked beneath him, bodies entwined. The air is heavy with the scent of the pine Christmas tree and desire, and the only noise that fills your ears is the rhythmic sound of your hearts beating in perfect unison.

With a soft groan, he presses the length of his erection against your entrance, and you feel the hot, thick head of him press into you. You gasp, arching your back as he slowly begins to push inside. He fills you slowly, inch by excruciatingly perfect inch, and when he's finally buried deep inside you, you feel complete.

His hips begin to move, and you throw your head back, moaning as he starts to thrust. The sensation of being so intimately connected to him is overwhelming, and you feel your orgasm building quickly.

"Franklin..." you breathe, your voice shaking with the effort to hold back the release. "Oh god, I'm going to..." Your words are cut off by a sharp cry as your body is wracked by an intense shock, your muscles tensing and your nails digging into his skin. He follows soon after, his thrusts growing frantic as he releases himself deep inside you.

As your breathing begins to steady, he rolls to the side, pulling you into his embrace. You feel his hot breath against your ear as he whispers, "I love you, baby. I love you so much." And in that moment, you know that this is real. This is forever.

Your heart feels lighter than air, and the warmth from his body seems to spread through your entire being. You lie there, content and at peace, feeling the rhythm of his heart against your chest. He nuzzles his face into your hair, kissing your neck and shoulders, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“So,-..” you sigh softly, looking up at him with the faintest hint of a teasing grin, “What’d you get me for Christmas?”

“Oh my god! You’re ridiculous. Hang on!” Franklin chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead and stumbling to pull up his pants before scurrying off to the bedroom.

And you can’t help but laugh as you watch the love of your life stumbling downstairs with his pants halfway off his hips.

This Christmas had been hectic, and more than agonizing in your endeavor to find the perfect gift. But seeing the smile and excitement on Franklin’s face had proved to be more perfect than any gift.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton x reader #franklin clinton/reader

64 notes · View notes

kthecutest · 9 months

Note

Hi I have seen that your request are open. Can I please request K as a boyfriend headcanon. I love K so much and I'm happy that you also write for &team. 🥰🥰🤩

Ps: I love your writings😘

ケイ Kei as your bf (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

A/N ೃ⁀➷ I'm so happy you requested it!! I've wanted to write boyfriend K headcanons for agessss! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) Mwah Mwah - kisses for my gratefulness ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ pls if you ever have any other ideas for K 🦘content, you can count me as your num1 wish granter (◡̀_◡́)ᕤ Anw! Hope you'll enjoy this one! (⁎⁍̴̛ ₃ ⁍̴̛⁎)!!

⇆༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶↻

The unexpectedly clingy one. Kei is probably the one person that you’ve expected least to be a clingy little puppy. His constant determination in his work really gave you that impression – but you only noticed it was the total opposite when you’d receive sweet ‘I miss you’s from him every second he’s away at work; and the ‘good morning’s paired with sweet motivational quotes; although you must admit how old-styled the quotes can be sometimes – but they didn’t fail to motivate and humor you.

A puppy who’s a big fan of physical affection. Every corner of your house, he will be stuck to you like gum, sharing body heat every single second of the day. “Keiiii, just give me one second I need to get that pan up there”, you’d whine. Instantly you felt your feet off the ground as he carried your feather-light body – “There baby~ better?” You couldn’t help but pout and proceeds with your work. There’s no way you can push this puppy off of you.

Loves being super intimate with you. Of course he knows you have a boundary and he totally respects that but that doesn’t stop him from being so touchy and clingy with you – basically goes hand in hand with the point above. You’d often find yourself in the bathtub or shower together with him and you’d just stand there, questioning yourself in the head like; ‘howwww did it escalated to here-‘

It’s easy to make him flustered and the entire process is so evident too especially on his expressive little cute face. “Wow! Hehe you look so cute in that scarf love!” – “hmm but I prefer your hands around my neck~” – ba’am he’s spinning and turning and rolling, practically blushing and dying from your smutty comment. His brain going complete short circuit while you stood there with an innocent little smile.

But the flustered state won’t last long because he’ll always have a better comeback to throw you off even more than you could to him. In the blink of an eye, his huge hands are wrapped around your petite neck, his warm breath hitched close to your ear, and he spoke with a low tone – “you’re right love~ they really do look better around your neck than that scarf.” Oh fuck, you know you’re in great trouble now.

He’s the one boy who tries his best to always do the best for you but the occasion always gotta go wrong one way or another; guess luck just wasn’t on his side – probably because Kei himself was the embodiment of luck. Your puppy boyfriend had fully planned out a picnic date on the beach for the evening – a view of the tangerine blob of light fading in a daze in the sky. Suddenly, it started pouring, both of you were drenched as you two booked it back to the car. The bright smile on his face has now faded into a dazed saddened frown – but you reassured him you had the best date ever which brought back his warm glittering smile that you’ve always adored.

Literally hates his baby photos and tries to hide every piece and bit of his childhood photos from you because those are what you’d use most to tease him with – “Awww look at who this cute little boy isssss~ this cute little boy who’s munching on snacks~ loookkkk, awwww I just wanna give him a huggg~!” – earning a pout and a frown from your cute boyfriend. “Hey! But this boy in front of you is cuter!” his whiny tone followed by a clingy hug; had you chuckling and giggling. Only he’s allowed to tease you; not the other way around!

Takes thousands of selfies of you two together but then hesitates which ones to post every single time – because he’s too indecisive – and just like that the photos weren’t post on theme because the special occasion was eventually over. Kei’s had this trouble even before you two got together but it did helped a bit now that you’re here since you’re more of a decisive person; you could guide and help out your troubled little boyfriend.

Pretends like he don’t wanna share you his food. Kei holds up the chopsticks, a piece of porkchop in between, practically taunting your hungry figure; swaying it in front of your eyes. Yet when you try to take a bite, the piece of meat goes flying straight to his mouth. Kei smiled and giggled at your shocked and pouty expression yet when he sees the saddened expression on your face, he can’t help but apologize and pile up snacks and meals right around you like a puppy building a nest.

Flirty and romantic – sometimes you even think he is the epitome of cupid but instead the kind who kept shooting heart arrows at YOU and apparently, it’s working because you just kept falling into a spiral of love around him. Blows hearts and kisses at you even through the air whenever he sees you pass by at work – and he does it really obviously too just to flaunt it. Matching outfits are a must, at home or outside. The type who could come up with a more heart-attack-like comebacks to your flirty and smutty comments. The type who would feed you with a kiss instead of a spoon – he loves to be unique okayyy.

Your personal dance teacher. He isn’t the type to convert you into his hobbies but you yourself originally was into dancing – and just knowing that your own boyfriend is a professional at it, got you requesting him to teach you. Very focused and determined when he does so; might be a bit strict with you though, but that’s just how he is when it’s work hours, so you aren’t complaining. Might get a little bit too touchy in some moves; ahem and then it leads to something else – heated sex in the practice room

Lovessss to flaunt his strength and size to you very often. Would pick you up out of nowhere with his single arm – “showing off your muscles again Kei?” – “hehe don’t pretend you don’t love them baby” (I mean he ain’t wrong-) Would also hug you from whatever position and you would just feel like being sunk into a huge giant teddy bear – perfect for the snowy winters.

Gets strict with you when it comes to your health. You’re the kind of restless person who loves to bury yourself in work and stress, and it might barely affect you but Kei is definitely phased. He’ll drag you out every morning to the park for morning jogs, take away your piles of fast food – and make you some fresh veggie salads and when the clock dings midnight – “alright enough work baby, time to sleep~!” – “naur but I need to finish this” – “absolutely not~” – drags you straight to bed and hugs you like a teddy. You can’t even escape with his size and weight. He makes sure you get enough sleep except those nights when you guys must attend to your sexual desires – he could definitely make an exception for that.

Needy, mushy, wet kisses that often escalate to needier events. Sometimes you would earn little pecks from your huge boyfriend as a sign of affection and you absolutely adored them. But whenever this puppy comes home from work, omg no more pecks, literally draws you into him and makes out with you to the point you felt like he was gonna eat your face. Your puppy’s just missed you too much, could you blame him?

When he sees you drowning in his oversized hoodies or shirts, omg it’s like his soul got thrown to a whole ‘nother dimension. Literally melts at the sight of it all, and doesn’t miss even a second to pull out his phone and spam the camera shots. At the same time, the tent in his sweatpants is seriously visible as well – got your eyes widening and everything. Welp, might as well get on with it now that the tent won’t go down~ and for the photos he took earlier? – well that can wait for when he gets to work – might need a release or two on his breaks.

#&team #andteam #&team imagines #&team scenarios #&team k #koga yudai #k #&team fluff #&team soft hours #AAAAAAH MY HUSBANDDDDD #I LOVE KEI SO MUCH IM DYING

131 notes · View notes

spacepiratenemo · 1 year

Text

Hello! My Name is Nemo! Welcome to Jackass!

MEME-TIME! MUHAHHA! 😂💯👾

Lol, this was "supposed to be quick, easy and literally just a meme" and now it took nearly a week and drove me nuts 3.14 times XD 😂

I had this in mind for ages and pushed it to the back of the shedule all the damn time, now it's finally done. *20th century fox proudly presents* Nemo being grounded! 😂

Two weeks of kitchen service is way too nice for all the non-sense and chaos she caused on board - and of course she just gotta provoke, eh? Push one button and BANANABEARD CAN GLOW WITH LED LIGHTS! ISN'T IT BOOTIFUL???! 😂😂😂

I'm surprised Pops didn't throw this girl over board a single time... XD

Anyways, hope this short memetic content amuses you as it amused me! XD Which punishment do you think Nemo deserves? How long would you ground her for? How many dishes would you let her wash? ><

LOL

Nemo loves to prank others! From glueing Pops to his seat, to putting chilli into Marco's pineapples - everything is possible! And since she is a horrible influence regarding this on Ace, he often tags along with her shenenigans! In a nutshell, so far in the story they pulled off:

Roasting a Seaking with an alien-weapon

Spilling glitter everywhere

Using yellow paint to make Pops mustache become banana

Glue Pops to his throne

Make Blamenco smell his own feet

Let Deuce run in a circle for one hour to find his mask

Hide Vista's hair-care products and let him suffer to find out

Fireworks ala Firecracker!

See if you can cook faster than the oven! (Faster apparently does not imply better...)

Use watermelon-seeds as ammunition against everyone!

Make Haruta admit to his love for rubber duckies

Find out who Jozu's secret crush is

Arrange a date between Whitey Bay and Izou, don't tell either of them though!

Surprise everyone with a loud, cheerful party at 3 AM for a whole week!

Sulk at the Crew when 3 AM parties are suddenly forbidden.

Make the sulking as dramatic as possible and pretend to die.

Shock the Crew by jumping into the sea and let them believe we drowned!

Jumpscare them all with a trumpet.

Make them fear the trumpet.

Make them wish the trumpet was a nightmare that would end.

Place fart-pillows everywhere.

Tag "Kick me!" pictures to everyone's back.

Make the world believe aliens exist.

Fake an alien invasion.

Make headlines!

Use narcolepsy as an excuse for literally everything fifty times in a row.

Make them believe you don't understand socialising.

Put too much wasabi into all beers.

Sew Marco a feather-dress.

Put eggs into Marco's bed every day.

Ask Marco if he's already a chicken-daddy every day.

Test: How long and how intense can you annoy Marco until he fries?

Will he taste like chicken when he fries?

Force everyone to do maths!

Put the alpahbet into the maths once they think they're safe.

Let Ace believe he is safe from the maths, but then make him do maths anyway.

Make everyone be scared of numbers!

Make everyone scared of numbers and letters in combination!

Put hidden numbers everywhere to cause paranoia.

Replace Satan.

Paint Pops a pretty make-up while he sleeps.

Also do his fingernails.

Put a bow on him.

Make Namur believe he might be an alien as well

Make everyone believe they're aliens

Establish a conspiracy and laugh about the idiots who believe it

Fake a UFO crash

Fake found-footage of alien abducting pirates to cause global panic.

Shoot confetti-rockets at Mariejois and make them beliebe it was the Marines.

Estabilish A.M.A.B as a Slogan: "All. Marines. Are. Bastards!"

Create hundreds of robots, fake loss of control and prank'em by thinking A.I enslaves mankind.

Clone coconuts.

Clone a huge amount of coconuts.

Establish coconut as super fruit and throw them at everyone who disagrees with you.

Polish Jozu to make him Shiny-Jozu.

Make Blenheim believe Fossa has a crush on him.

Watch chaos unfold.

Mess with the cacti-juice.

And so much more...

... to be continued!

#whitebeard pirates #whitebeard one piece #whitebeard #edward newgate #one piece #one piece oc #one piece meme #original character #original fiction #fanart #one piece oc art #space pirates #my art #anime art #oc interaction

59 notes · View notes

ezm-imagines · 2 years

Text

The Princess and The Vampire

SUMMARY: Eddie and Y/N go to a halloween party together as a vampire and a princess. Eddie puts those fangs to good use…

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

TAGS: eddie munson x fem!reader, vampire!eddie and princess!reader (not real, just their halloween costumes), cheerleader!reader, biting/hickies, eddie with fangs.... 👀

A/N: 💳💥 💳💥 💳please let this be your excuse to write a halloween fic. & please credit me if you use the fang pic cuz thats my edit :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

You skipped over to the front room at the sound of knocking, your sparkly pink skirt bouncing behind you. This would be your third year going as a princess for halloween. The two other times, albeit, had been in elementary school, but you’d figured it was a good idea to revive the old tradition. Glitter and pink and jewels felt so you. Besides, Eddie called you princess all the time anyway. What better costume to go to a party with him in?

You caught a glimpse in the mirror on your way to the door, readjusting your tiara and double checking your makeup. Perfect.

You pulled the heavy front door open, already beaming.

Eddie, as expected, was standing behind it. A cheap polyester black cape with red lining flowed behind him as he smiled back at you, “Trick or treat, princess.” He stuck out his tongue, in his signature Eddie way, now sporting some sick fangs.

You had no reason to find him as fucking hot as you did. It was just unreasonable at this point. He was wearing a cheap-ass cape and fake fangs and making the dumbest face but GOD if it wasn’t taking everything in you right now to drag him inside and kiss him senseless against the door.

But you were a princess tonight. And princesses could control themselves.

“Let me guess,” you teased, “‘You vant to suck my blood?’”

His eyes glittered for a moment, a grin growing across his face, “Ah, princess, I wanna do so much more than that.”

You felt your face heat, and immediately turned away to grab your purse.

You knew he was only joking when he said that stuff. He said it to everyone-- you, Steve, Robin, Gareth, everyone. He was just like that. It shouldn’t make you as flustered as it always did after almost a decade of friendship, but it still did every single time.

You unhooked your matching pink purse from the coat rack and turned back with a clear of your throat, “Ready?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned. He extended his elbow to you.

You giggled and took it, “I see you’ve taken Victorian vampire manners to heart.”

“I’m nothing if not devoted to a character, Y/N. Besides, I’m dealing with royalty. Gotta step up my game.”

“Excuse you,” you brushed a bit of hair from your face with fake haughtiness, “You’re dealing with royalty everyday.”

Eddie gave a toothy smile, “Damn right, princess.”

You reached his van, and he swiftly sped ahead of you, opening the passenger door and kneeling on the ground with a hand extended.

You rolled your eyes, “I was kidding!”

“And I'm a man of my word.” He flourished toward the passenger seat, “Your carriage, Your Highness.”

You sighed and shook your head, but took his hand and let him help you into the seat. He winked, before bounding up, closing the door, and hopping across the hood of the van.

Oh god. You had it so bad for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EDDIE POV

The party was loud enough that Eddie could hear it before he even turned onto its street.

It was the fancy ass neighborhood Chrissy lived in, but he supposed rich folks didn’t care about loud parties as long as it was on Halloween.

He snuck a look at you from the corner of his eye, with your hair glowing in the moonlight and your eyes lighting up from different yard decorations. You were just so pretty. Especially tonight. Your body glitter was catching the streetlights and he wanted to run his hands along every inch of you and never let go. You just looked so soft.

He coughed, his eyes jotting back to the road just in time to not hop a curb. Honestly, what was it with fancy neighborhoods and these dumb little centerpiece gardens in the middle of cul-de-sacs? It was dumb as fuck.

He was able to get a good parking space on this street, considering most of the kids probably walked here from the same neighborhood. Figures.  You seemed enchanted by it all though. You were hopping out of the car before he could even put it in park.

He cursed under his breath, annoyed he didn’t get to help you back out of the car like he planned.

Whatever. He was walking in with you on his arm. That was a fucking fantastic enough night for him.

He hopped out after you, almost face planting in the process, but recovering swiftly. Luckily, you were too busy looking at the dumb skeleton decorations in their yard to notice.

“Eds,” you called, “They’re having a tea party!”

Eddie swung around the car to find you bouncing in place as you stared at the decorations in the yard. Eddie’s eyes only left you for a moment to follow what you were pointing at— two fake skeletons sat at a little table, set with a teapot and tea cups— but magnetized back to you in an instant. Fuck you were so fucking cute he was going to fucking scream right then and there.

“A tea party, Eds!!” You repeated, turning to him with wide, delighted eyes.

He just smiled softly, “Yeah, Y/N. ‘s cool.”

“I know right!!” You squealed.

His heart was about to explode. And unfortunately, not in a metal way. In a pathetic, my god I’m so head over heels for my best friend it’s disgusting way.

Your eyes caught commotion in the backyard of the house, the party already at full gear. You gasped and took his hand in yours, “Oh my god, there’s probably more skeletons in the backyard!”

He huffed out a chuckle as you tugged him around the side of the house with great purpose. You were absolutely ridiculous, but you were also adorable. He would probably walk off the side of a cliff if you led him to one, so who was he to try to fight it now?

“Y/N!!” Chrissy called from across the party as she spotted you both rounding the corner. Chrissy left her conversation and bounded over to you. You grinned back, your eyes flitting around the backyard in the meantime for more dumb spirited decor.

Eddie hesitated. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about Chrissy. She seemed nice, and you swore up and down that she was nice, but she was also a popular cheerleader. Well. He supposed you were too, but he’d known you for half his life. You were different. He’d seen enough popular kids pretend to be nice just to stab their friends in the back later. If nothing else though, he trusted that Chrissy wouldn’t stab you in the back. The girl was positively enamored with you. Who wouldn’t be?

Chrissy eyes almost instantly caught your hand in Eddie’s as she approached. She didn’t say anything, but it was beyond clear she clocked it, filing it away for later. Yeah. Call him paranoid, but he didn’t trust her. He could hear her telling you later tonight ‘Stay away from that Freak, Y/N. Don’t touch him like that.’ Ugh.

But then you were leaning forward and letting go of his hand to squeeze Chrissy into a hug, and launching into an excited conversation with her.

“You did so well!” You swayed her in your arms, “Look at this place!”

Chrissy laughed, pulling away, “No, look at you!!! So pretty! Oh my goodness!” She twirled you around, and Eddie swallowed thickly as your skirt fluttered around your bare thighs.

“Says you!” You teased once you’d completed a full circle.

Eddie tore his eyes from you to Chrissy, noticing for the first time she was dressed as Alice in Wonderland.

“Thanks,” Chrissy blushed. “And Eddie! Hey! You look great too! Though I’ll be honest, I totally didn’t read Dracula last year in Mr. Putnam’s class.”

Eddie laughed, “Hey, me neither.”

Chrissy smiled warmly, then turned back to you and took your hands, “We were just about to start Truth or Dare. You guys in?”

Eddie absolutely knew better than to agree to this. It would be a popular kids v. Eddie Munson game. ‘Let’s see the very worst things we can do to The Freak.’

But you were nodding and taking his hand again to pull him towards the bonfire circle on the other side of the party.

He opened his mouth to protest. Say he was gonna grab some food. Go pee. Drink someone’s blood. They’d all believe he’d actually do that anyway. But you seemed so excited and he didn’t want to ruin the party for you.

Whenever he had told you about something one of the jocks did to him, your eyebrows drew together so tight and your eyes welled up instantly. He couldn’t handle seeing you like that tonight. Not when you’d been talking all month about your halloween costume and how excited you were for Chrissy’s party.

So he followed, and just focused on your warm hand in his again as you led him through the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EDDIE POV

“I am throwing out that whole bowl of lemons before we go to bed tonight, Chrissy,” Sienna scrunched her face, “That was awful.”

She tossed the remaining lemon rind behind her, into the woods, and downed the waterbottle Chrissy was holding out for her.

“Mom will just buy more tomorrow morning,” Chrissy replied, “She’s totally addicted. It’s her weird diet thing.”

Eddie was pretty shocked about how this was going. They were maybe a dozen rounds in, and so far, everything had been really… nice. The dares were lighthearted fun, like daring Sienna to eat a whole lemon or Bret to streak (which he seemed to want more than his friend daring him), and the truths seemed to be overall pretty carefully chosen to not make someone reveal anything they were truly uncomfortable with. It was fun. Eddie had never really done any of this classic high school shit, but he’d never pictured a world where it could actually be un-cruel. Truth or dare always seemed like an excuse to be shit to your friends and then make them the asshole for getting mad about it.

But the majority of the circle was the cheer team, and they mainly seemed to be putting in the effort to make it fun and not evil. It was finally starting to make sense to Eddie why you were on the cheer team in the first place, and why you’d told him over and over how nice they were. He just assumed you were brainwashed.

But here you all were, laughing by the fire and sending a bowl of candy around the circle over and over— name brand candy too. If nothing else, Eddie was happy to take out his fangs and eat that while he watched you having fun.

It was sweet.

But, of course. It didn’t take long for it to come crashing down.

Chrissy’s eyes locked to him with a slow smile, and he watched as she leaned over and whispered something in Sienna’s ear as the girl finished off the waterbottle.

Nope. Absolutely not. Eddie cleared his throat and made to stand up and head to the drinks table, but Sienna called out his name first.

“Eddie! Truth or dare.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! He fucking knew better. He knew better than to join this game, and he should have left a few rounds ago. But you were giggling so hard when Bret got dared to streak and then when Emma had to spill the details about what actually happened on her blind date. And he couldn’t fucking leave when you were sitting there in the firelight having such a wonderful time.

He was a fucking idiot.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment as he stared at Sienna, hedging his bets. Choosing dare could suck ass. But truth was significantly more dangerous. Any number of truths could absolutely wreck his shit. Especially with you present. At least whatever dare they’d give him could fit with his shit reputation anyway. If rumor would spread about whatever they’d make him do, no one would be surprised. No real damage.

“Dare.”

But Sienna only grinned wider.

Fuuuuck.

“Alright, Dracula,” Sienna smiled, “Why don’t you show off those fangs? I dare you to bite Y/N’s neck.”

All the color drained from Eddie’s face in an instant.

This was a terrible, horrible idea.

He was so wrong. This absolutely would cause damage. There was no way he could get his mouth anywhere near your neck— you, beautiful, popular, cheerleader you— and have it not completely decimate him. You’d go ‘ew’ and push him off and he’d disintegrate in a moment. It was one thing to have feelings for you he knew weren’t reciprocated, it was another to have to witness you push him off of you in front of all your friends like the gross freak he was.

But at the same time, it’d be a humiliation to you if he refused to do it. He could hear them now ‘Wow, even the Freak won’t kiss you, Y/N! What does that say about you?!’ He was fucked either way.

Not to even begin to mention how it was just taunting everything he’d ever wanted since he met you right in front of him so he could experience everything he’d never get.

Per usual, he had followed you recklessly to places he didn’t belong— shouldn’t belong. And this was the cost.

“Is it okay with you?” He asked carefully, his eyes flickering to look at you.

“I mean, it’s the dare,” you shrugged with a small smile. But you were tense. He could tell.

He furrowed his brow, “I don’t care if it’s the dare if it isn’t okay with you, Y/N.”

You blinked at him a few times before pushing out a nod.

“You’re sure?”

You rolled your eyes sweetly, “Just do your dare, Eds.”

He huffed out a small smile, trying to calm the breathing in his chest. Okay. Okay. He could do this.

He turned to face you, scooting closer to you on the log. He felt the eyes of the twenty students around the fire on him, but forced himself to calm down. He was a performer. He could do this.

He reached out and gently gathered your hair in his hands, careful to not pull on any strands or get them caught in his rings as he moved it all to the right side of your neck.

You huffed. It was playful, but he could tell beneath it you were truly bothered by something, “I’m not made of glass,” you whispered, only to him, “You don’t always have to treat me like you’ll break me if you breathe on me, Eddie.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. He knew you meant it. It was something you two had had conversations about before. But he’d always felt like one wrong move and you’d be running for the hills.

“I just don’t want to scare you,” he explained.

“I know,” you answered, “But you couldn’t. Even if you tried,” you smiled, genuine and warm.

That struck deep with him. After all, he was Eddie Munson. Town freak. He scared everyone. And yet here you were, saying that he couldn’t scare you no matter what he did. It made him want to tear up.

But at the same time, in this moment under the stars and beside a crackling fire, something else in him flared. A side of him that maybe wanted to startle you. To make you…

His eyes glowed for a moment more, before he pulled your hair away in a rough tug, giving him full access to your bare neck.

Your loud gasp only spurred him, his fingers curling even tighter into your hair as he connected his lips to your collar.

He felt your body shudder beneath him. He dragged his lips up your shoulder a couple inches, before landing just at the bend of your neck.

He sunk his teeth in, hard and sharp.

Lowly— too low for anyone besides him to hear under the crackle of the fire and the blaring of the speakers from the porch— he heard you moan.

His eyes hooded, and he was so fucking grateful that his cloak was currently shielding his body from the rest of the group.

He released his teeth after a moment, deciding to spare you, but running his tongue over the forming bruise and giving it a kiss, a soft amends for the mark that would be left there.

He was wrong for that. He knew that. Call it the rock musician in him, or the dungeon master, but he was easily carried away in the heat of the moment. He shouldn’t have bit you that roughly and he certainly shouldn’t have kissed it afterwards. But goddamn, would he think about that moment for the rest of his fucking days...

You were still shuddering when he pulled away slowly, your eyes not daring to open.

A swell of pride surged in his chest. He hoped he was reading this right.

“Holy fuck.”

Singular applause from the opposite side of the bonfire broke out, and Eddie turned like a deer in headlights to see the circle staring at them with gaping mouths. One guy was slow clapping.

He turned back to you, to see you were still struggling to break out of your daze.

“You want punch?” He whispered to you. While he did want to help you, he also wanted to stand and turn around and tuck his boner into his waistband before someone noticed. Get some space. Get some air. Before he did something stupid, like jumping on you and doing it again.

“Mhmm,” you nodded quickly.

He tried not to grin at that, as he stood up, making sure his cloak was wrapped around him enough.

Thank GOD for this costume on so many fucking levels.

He felt fucking dizzy. Might as well have had his blood fucking sucked from how lightheaded he was. Jesus Christ.

He managed his way to the punch table, where there were conveniently two coolers, one of which labeled “Spiked” and the other labeled “Unspiked” in what he believed was Chrissy’s cursive script. He smiled, pouring a cup of each to see if someone had switched the labels by now.

Bringing them each to his nose, they had. Of course.

He pitched out the real spiked one and poured a second cup of the sober one. With the night both of you were having, even less inhibitions and more lightheadedness was not a good idea.

By the time he returned, however, the bonfire circle was breaking up. Girls were giving him wide-eyed looks as they walked away, and some guys were even giving him fist bumps.

Chrissy winked.

He approached you hesitantly, left at the log waiting for him.

“Blood,” he said, handing you a cup of the red juice, “To refill the amount I took.”

You giggled and accepted it as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Sorry for brusing you,” he spoke up and regretting it immediately as it made his eyes flicker down to where he’d bit your neck. He could feel his blood run hotter again. There was a mark forming, and it made him fucking crazy. He wanted to do more. Cover you in them. Walk you around town and show each one off.

Jesus christ he was so fucked. He coughed. “Why’d everyone leave?”

“Something about beer pong.”

“Ah,” Eddie nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he believed that.

Chrissy had winked at him. And Chrissy had gotten Sienna to give him that dare. She was clearly doing something here.

But Chrissy wouldn’t do that if you weren’t into it, right? He didn’t trust Chrissy, but he didn’t believe Chrissy would be cruel to you.

Which meant… Chrissy must believe you would’ve been into that.

The realization hit him like a ton of fucking bricks.

“And anyway, you don’t have to apologize for the bruise,” you laughed, “I never got a dare myself, so I guess that’s my payment to the dare gods.”

“Oh, shit, yeah you didn’t,” he tilted his head to the side. “I mean, I guess it’s my turn next anyway…”

This was such a huge fucking mistake. He was basing this completely on Chrissy fucking Cunningham. But this all had to mean something, right???

Your eyes grew wide at him, “What?”

“You heard me. Truth or dare?”

“Game’s over, Eds.”

“Nun uh, I didn’t get my turn. Truth or dare, princess?”

You hesitated for a long moment, concerned, before: “… Truth.”

Eddie’s eyes softened. Truth was maybe the better choice anyway. He didn’t like the idea of forcing you to do something.

“Okay,” he replied. He thought for a moment, knowing he needed to phrase it right.

You, meanwhile, were picking viciously at your nails, as you watched him nervously.

He smiled and reached a hand out to stop your fidgeting: “Truth: What would you have done if we weren’t in front of a bunch of people for all that?”

You blinked at him, thrown off guard. You closed your mouth and looked down, “You’ll laugh at me.”

You said it so quiet he almost didn’t catch it.

“Y/N,” he fully took your hand in his now, “No way.”

“But—“

“Just try me, yeah? Besides, I could never laugh at royalty. I’d get my head chopped off.”

You huffed out a laugh, before biting your lip and considering your answer.

“‘What would I do if we weren’t in front of people for that?’” You repeated back.

Eddie nodded patiently.

You hesitated for a moment longer before leaning in and kissing him. So soft he almost wasn’t sure it happened.

You pulled away as quickly as you leaned in, before he could grab you and pull you in close and keep you in close for the rest of fucking time.

So he reached out instead and kissed you again himself.

You kissed back, nervous yet so eager. Fuck he could kiss you forever. Your lips moved against his as he breathed you in, tasting like cherry candies and lip gloss and red punch and you. Fuck.

You pulled away eventually with a giggle, “Happy?”

“Oh, fucking immensely.”

You rolled your eyes with a massive smile and swatted at his thigh.

Eddie regarded you thoughtfully for a moment. You were glowing. Somehow, you were glowing because of him. Because of kissing him.

“Can I take you out?” He whispered, his hands not leaving you.

You nodded with a blush.

Eddie’s grin felt like it was going to split his face in half. He didn’t care. Let it.

You covered your face in your hand with a laugh, “Chrissy is going to freak.”

“You think?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s been working on this for months.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mhmm,” you sipped at your punch, “She swore up and down that you liked me back but I didn’t believe her.”

First off, he was shocked that Chrissy really, truly, actively wanted to set them up. It made sense after everything she’d done tonight, but it was almost impossible to imagine a popular kid purposefully trying to set another popular kid up with him of all people.

But more importantly, “Woah, woah. Months?? How long have you wanted to do that???”

You rolled your eyes, “Since forever, dummie.”

“Oh, Princess,” he scoffed, “That means we’ve got a lot of making up for lost time.”

“Yeah?” You giggled.

“Mhmm,” he grinned leaning in and kissing you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HAPPY HALLOWEEN BITCHES! 👻👻👻

PS i havent actually watched the whole show so sorry for any inaccuracies

TAGLIST: @yourdailymemedelivery @lilylilyyyyyy @highonlegalmarijuanax @bellevsoares @hmt09

Join my Eddie taglist!

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson halloween fic #halloween au #vampire!eddie munson #princess!reader

344 notes · View notes