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#it has to be months and months of ‘what’s your favorite color’

ifyoucandaniel · 17 hours

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exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

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weaveandwood · 2 days

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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Two

Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read on AO3 | Read Part One | 1K words

Summary:

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale Dekarios was a wizard of intentionally lesser renown, a respected professor at Blackstaff Academy, and engaged to the love of his life. His life was enchanted until he came home to an empty tower, and he has been seeing ghosts ever since.

He saw her ghost everywhere. She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

AN: There will be a Part 3 to conclude this and it will be out later this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on what was supposed to be a one-shot that has taken over my brain completely.

He saw her ghost everywhere.

She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. He knew her leaving was inevitable the more their conversations became stilted, the more they floated in each other's orbits, the more foreign her touch became. But the tower still smelled like her, still felt like her presence was just around the corner. Still felt like they could have had a chance to fix things. He heard her in his head all night long as he wept in his study.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him on his walk back from visiting his mother two weeks later, the first time he left his house. He had tried to lay low after she left him, but her name followed him like a poltergeist from the mouths of those he passed on the street, whispering to their friends about who he was, who she was. Wondering how it ended.

It's not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him when he was in the market four months after she left. He didn’t want to be there. Everything reminded him of her - the cart they would visit once a tenday to buy her favorite sweet rolls, the jewelry store he visited in secret to get her silver ring that was still on the entry table gathering dust. He saw a flash of her hair color and froze. When time regained its ability to move forward he strained his neck, pushing through the crowd searching for her, unable to breathe. Could it be her? Where had she been all these weeks? Was she okay? Had she moved on with someone else who was less tied down by routine? Was she even still alive?

It wasn’t her, of course. He didn’t go to the market again after that. He still hasn’t.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

Seasons passed. Festivals, new apprentices, weekly dinners with colleagues - life fell into a rhythm that helped him move forward. He saw her ghost less and less. It had been almost 6 months since the last haunting. He had finally tucked the silver ring into a drawer two tendays ago, an attempt to bury the what ifs and if onlys and begin to exorcize her from his memory at last. Midwinter in Waterdeep was upon him, and he was eager to engage in festivities that evening with colleagues, now friends. A few cups of wine and he felt like the old Gale, showing off a little by using his well-honed magic to create fireworks to fill the room with light and color.

As the illusion sparked and fizzled out to the delight and applause of the other partygoers, a familiar wisp settled itself in the peripheries of his mind. She always loved his illusions, from their first night together with the aurora and the sparkling stars to the smaller ones he created for her everyday in the beginning. If he had kept trying to make her happy, would she have left? If he had noticed her pulling away as he settled into the routine of his life, could he have brought her closer instead of making her feel like her only option was to run?

He set his cup down, the wine steering him toward paths his brain wasn’t ready to go back down yet, preferring to stay focused on the revelry at hand. The snow flurries caught his eye through the large picture window in the front room. He had always loved the snow and moved to the window to watch it in contemplative silence.

He froze, his eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.

Her ghost. Haunting him even here, even now, after all this time. Her hair, her eyes, everything just as he remembered from the morning she left him, standing across the street looking into the window he was currently occupying. Looking at him. He saw the ghost’s eyes widen, saw her quickly turn to walk away, to escape discovery. He wanted to hesitate. He wanted to accept it was just another vision brought on by too many cups of wine, another falsehood of his imagination...but one tiny spark of hope pulled at his mind.

The ghost had never reacted to him like that before.

He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember running out of the door, the rest of the partygoers gasping as the usually reserved Gale Dekarios knocked over a chair and pushed people out of his way. He didn’t remember the bite of the cold air. He didn’t remember yelling “Stop!” as the ghost moved quickly away, trying to toy with him, as always. He didn’t remember running down the street to catch up to the ghost, preparing himself for it to disappear as usual. He didn’t remember the desperation on his face or in his voice as he reached for her.

He remembered grabbing on to the ghost’s hand, feeling it solid in his. His heart pounded.

“Wait. Please,” he said, panting. The ghost turned around, but it wasn’t a ghost at all.

She was real. She was here.

“Gale,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

“You’re real. You’re here,” he whispered back, wrapping her in his arms, committing to memory how she felt as he held her tightly for the first time in over a year. It was only then he realized that her absence had permeated every facet of his being and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His lips crashed against hers, time standing still for the two of them as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She took a step back, breaking their contact, looking down at the ground.

He knew. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Tomorrow,” she nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

He placed his hands on both sides of her face, brushing away her sadness before kissing her deeply one more time.

Real. Here.

“Then let me have tonight.”

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #my writing #gale of waterdeep #midwinter in waterdeep #baldur’s gate 3

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10yo-anon · 2 hours

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☆ DARK RED. ☆

Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty

WC: 1,258.

A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?

You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.

But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"

Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!

"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.

Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.

One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.

But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!

Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?

You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.

Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.

As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!

With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.

Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.

G-S: *Video attachment.*

G-S: *Location attachment.*

G-S: im sorry, y/n.

Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.

It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.

You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.

You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."

He opens his phone,

5 messages from "my only one.♡".

His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.

You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.

Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.

With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.

Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.

Oh.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

A/N: Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!

#Spotify #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #x reader #jjk #fanfiction #☆— 【 fanfiction !! 】#☆— 【 ★ talks !! 】#Gojo #satoru #gojo satoru

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acetheabnormal · 2 days

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hi finally got the balls to send this but ur one of my favorite artists on this site, your use of color and shapes have been such a huge inspiration for my own art :) your design are so fucking good i just wanna bounce them around in my brain.... also i've been writing my own fantasy-ish AU for a couple months and the mask of my own face (i think thats what its called, sorry if i got it wrong!) fic has motivated me to start working on my own au again!!! i adore the way you write its so. its so fucking GOOD its so TASTEY GRRRRAGHGHHHGHGH EATING ALL YOUR WORK 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

I'm so endlessly flattered by all the kind words that I'm running out of ways to say thank you!!

⬇️ Live me reaction

I'm very very happy to hear that my own fic has managed to help you inspire yours, that's my only hope whenever I create anything; to inspire others to make their own work. I wish you all the best with your writing!!

#asks #very sweet :3

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toasttt11 · 10 hours

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wrong

January 7, 2025

Will let out a long breath as the call didn’t go through to Kensington once again, they have barley talked the last few months and when they do actually talk both of them are so busy there’s barely any time to talk and Kensington has been off lately seemingly distance.

Will hated how he didn’t know what was wrong with his girlfriend and he hated how he wasn’t sure what to do to make everything better.

Will has been itching to just get on a flight and show up at her door and finally see her in person but he was to afraid with the chance if they see each other and Kensington breaks up with him.

He didn’t even think she loved him anymore and was to nice to break up with him.

January 10, 2025

Will walked to his apartment door and saw the mailman, “Will Smith?” The guy asked and Will nodded and the guy handed him two box’s.

Will smiled at the guy and shut the door brining the boxes to the kitchen and grabbed a knife and started opening the rectangle box first.

Will saw was marigolds, Kensington’s favorite flower, he gently took out the very large bouquet of flowers and smiled softly.

Will gently set them onto the counter and opened the other box and saw it was pretty stuffed, he first pulled out a pile of clothing items, he first saw another Kensington jersey in the color he doesn’t have yet, and a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt that smelled like her perfume, he set them onto the counter.

He pulled out the next little bag and saw the bag was filled with all of his favorite candies.

Will pulled out the next thing and it was a frame of Kensington and him during the summer both of them smiling brightly at the camera and Kensington all wrapped up in his arms, Will gently traced his beautiful girls face before gently setting it onto the counter.

Will smiled softly seeing a new jelly cat and it was a blue bunny and he noticed the white ribbon tied on the ears as little bows and he knew Kensington did that.

He picked up the card at the bottom.

Happy Anniversary Will!

I miss you and i love you lots

-Your Gray <3

Will felt his stomach drop as he realized what this was all for their one year anniversary. that was today.

“Shit.” Will cursed running a hand in his hair he can’t believe he forgot and his girlfriend who he thought didn’t love him anymore did not forget. Will knew he was wrong and he was an idiot for thinking that Kensington didn’t love him any longer.

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childhoodshour · 7 months

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destiel soulmate au where cas knows who his soulmate is supposed to be but he has to wait centuries for dean to even be born and then when he can finally meet him for the first time, everything has to flow naturally in order for the bond to even begin to show.

#no ‘im castiel and your my soulmate’#it has to be months and months of ‘what’s your favorite color’#and ‘wow yeah ac/dc does make good music’#before the bond even makes itself known #i have destiel brainrot #destiel #soulmate au #dean winchester #supernatural #castiel novak #castiel #edit: you’re* idk how to type

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 6 months

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DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

#dpxdc prompt #dcxdp #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dead on main ship #dead on main

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dilfsfordinner · 5 months

Text

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

——————————————————————————

#nanami kento smut #nanami x fem!reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #husband nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #nanami jjk #i need him #GUYS GO LOOK AT HIS SMILE IN THE PREVIEW

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eccentricwritingbaby · 16 days

Text

baby finn series, house divided

dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series list - bedtime stories - sneaking onto stream - babysitting and date nights

summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

masterlist

finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth.

“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.

lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.

“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.

“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.

“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.

“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.

“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.

“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.

“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.

“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.

“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.

“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.

“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.

“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”.

race day -

as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.

“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.

“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.

“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”

“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.

“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.

“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.

“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.

“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.

“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles.

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erwinsvow · 1 month

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PLEASEEEE can u show the time where reader caught rafe punching the squishmallows that really sent me

"don't laugh, okay?" you say it softly, right outside the door to your bedroom.

"why would i laugh?" rafe’s asking seriously, but you're already a tiny bit embarrassed of what lies on the other side of the door and you're unsure how rafe will react.

"it's, like, a third of the size of your room-"

"shut up and open the door."

you sigh, turning the handle and pushing to let yourself in first. rafe follows, staring around the tiny room observantly. his eyes flicker from corner to corner, taking it in. you stand to the side patiently, playing with your hands, in particular the ring rafe had just gotten you, fiddling and twisting it repeatedly.

he walks around for a second, stopping at your bookshelf to take a look at the titles on the shelves and then moving on, staring at the photos on the wall and then sniffing a stray candle on the nightstand. he finally stops at your dresser, glancing over the lotions and perfumes littered on top to stare at the framed picture of the two of you perched right in the center, odds and ends he's gotten you in the last month scattered around.

"so?" you question quietly, eyes big.

"which drawer's got your panties?"

"rafe! shut up."

"it's a cute room. why'd you get so worried?"

"i don't know. habit." you settle on the bed, bringing your biggest squishmallow onto your lap, holding it in your arms comfortingly. rafe's still looking around.

"always had one favorite color, huh?"

"yes," you admit, squeezing the stuffed animal harder. rafe finally comes to join you on the bed, gesturing to the squishmallow as soon as he does.

"what the hell is that?"

"this is ricky. he's a clownfish. he has a career, i just can't remember-"

"huh?"

"they all have jobs and hobbies, rafe. the squishmallows. i think he's an underwater singer or something."

"you sleep with that huge thing on the bed?"

"every night. when i'm here, at least. i should get one for tannyhill!"

"don't know about all that." he takes it into his hands, moving it around, observing it from all sides. "every single night?"

"yeah. why?"

"nothin'."

the conversation changes to the books on your nightstand, and you forget all about the squishmallow resting on your bed until you step out to get a cup of lemonade for rafe.

walking back in, you wonder if you put enough sugar in, when you open the door to see rafe smacking your squishmallow with his right hook, right to his little face.

"what are you doing?!" it spills out before you can stop it, the lemonade almost falling out of your hand.

"look at the dent. how does it go back to how it was?" he questions, while you look over at him, horrified. "what's inside it? feathers, or some shit?" he looks over to get an answer, when he looks at your distraught face.

"what?"

even when he sleeps over, he's never allowed to touch your squishmallow again.

#lmfaoooooo this is cracked #enjoy babe love u <333 #I used Ricky the clownfish as an example since that’s the one I have!!!!!!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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highvern · 3 months

Text

When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?”

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.”

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.”

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.”

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple.

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention.

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.”

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper.

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks.

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book.

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note.

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday.

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.”

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful.

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself.

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks.

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time.

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?”

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.”

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?”

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?”

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.”

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own.

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders.

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee.

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks.

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.”

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench.

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?”

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure.

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you.

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago.

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door.

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout.

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by.

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about.

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!”

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors.

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit.

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu

Permanent taglist:

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen fanfic #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #🫡 highvern

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moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?”

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes.

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top.

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words.

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?”

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.”

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you.

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—”

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?”

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.”

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?”

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.”

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster.

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?”

“I don’t—can you move the light away?”

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye.

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says.

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.”

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his.

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?”

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.”

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares?

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face.

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?”

“To call Evans.”

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.”

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.”

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.”

“What if no one saw?”

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?”

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?”

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes.

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face.

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.”

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.”

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’.

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?”

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now.

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.”

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.”

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.”

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.”

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?”

You nod, and he winces.

“Ouch, lovie.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.”

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.”

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says.

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?”

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.”

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink.

“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly.

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.”

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pucksandpower · 3 months

Text

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

3K notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 1 year

Text

bartender!eddie x fem!reader Eddie’s night.

🎵my man gives real love that’s why I call him killer, he’s not a ‘wham! bam! thank you ma’am!’ he’s a thriller.🎵

summary: After being stood up on a blind date, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with keeps you company.

word count: 12.6k

warnings: 90’s AU / 18 + no minors! /eddie is in his early 30’s, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi public smut (p in v), cream pie, dirty talk.

authors note: my love letter to the 90’s 💕after one month of brain storming and three weeks of writing here’s part one of Whatta Man! Eddie’s night. (This is a singular one shot. Steve’s night is part two, can you find the easter eggs for his night 😉)Thank you to my very talented friends who always brain storm with me and share ideas. This fun lil AU wouldn’t have happened with you. ily 💗 edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

You didn’t want to go on this date. Not when your roommate set you up, and you certainly didn’t want to go when he picked The Foxy Lounge. But when Weather Man Mike predicted the first warm day after three months of bitter winter you’d take any excuse to wear your favorite dress.

You’d been here before, always stumbling in after a night out with friends because they were the only 4am place in town. Those late nights turned to early mornings were more of a thing of the past now so when you got to the familiar chipped red door you didn’t recognize the bouncer standing outside. He has a head of honey colored hair that’s just long enough to run his fingers through. His toned frame sits pretty wrapped in a tight black tee and long legs covered in dark wash jeans tight enough for you to really have to focus on keeping your eyes on his face. A freckle covered neck leads to a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. Leaning against the brick wall with his boots crossed at the ankles a toothpick twirls between his straight teeth.

The platform of your sneakers hitting the pavement as you come to a stop and the jingle of your power beads alerts him of your presence, hazel eyes going round like the moon in the sky. Straightening his posture he snatches the tooth pick out of his mouth, stuffing it in his back pocket. You swear you see a Tamagotchi tucked away as he clears his throat with a puff of his chest.

“I.D.?”

Your lips twitch, the forced deep baritone in his voice isn’t fooling you, and you wonder if it fooled anyone when the signature beep of a Tomogatchi pet needing to be fed goes off in his back pocket. He coughs to try to cover the noise while you quickly pull what he needs out of your cross body. Holding it out for him to examine you look up with a glossed smile matching the one in the picture. Narrowing his eyes, you catch a glimmer of playfulness when he clicks on his flashlight.

Examining it like it could be a fake, you bite back a giggle while he turns it around giving it one more once over before handing it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Funny, we have the same birthday.” His voice comes out normal this time, soft and friendly just like you thought.

“Twins!”

A genuine smile lights up his face like the sign above your head, his boyish features coming out despite the stubble on his chin.

“Might as well call us the Olsen’s.” Throwing you a wink he pulls the gold handle to open the door for you. The sounds of Return of the Mack break through the hums of the street behind you. “Have fun tonight honey, be safe. If anyone bothers you, just come grab me okay? I’m steve.”

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment and you have to remind yourself that you’re here for a date. You catch a hint of his cologne when your shoulder brushes against his chest on your way in, the expensive scent making you dizzy when it hits your senses.

“I will, thanks Steve,”your words are shy when they come out, making his lips twitch in response. Nodding his head, you catch the tinge of pink on his skin before he closes the door with a small wave.

It's even louder inside with the drunk conversations battling for dominance against the music. Tugging nervously at the bottom of your dress you look around the bar for the vague description of this guy Craig your friend gave you.

You scan the crowd a few times before your eyes catch the big brown ones of the bartender. The stool in front of him freeing itself at the same time your eyes connect, the corners of his plush lips pull up as he beckons you over with two heavily ringed fingers. The unruly dark auburn curls that hit just below his shoulders catch the low light behind the bar, the yellow glow softening up all his edges.

Rocking back on your heels you pull the strap of your cross body closer, doing your best to collect yourself before you push through the crowd accepting his invitation. His smile widens, pulling up his stubble covered cheeks to reveal a set of perfect white teeth to you. The one you give him in return comes out a little shy as you plop down on the ripped vinyl that matches the red of the door.

Ink litters his arms disappearing under the frayed ends of his sleeves letting you know there was more under the tight fit of his worn faded black Metallica shirt. The two rips near the collar give you a glimpse of the chain wrapped around his neck. The scruff lining his jaw adds a few years from afar but from this close he looks your age. The silver hoop in his nose catches against the bright lighting under the bar like the rings adoring his fingers. Pulling out two empty shot glasses with a twirl he quickly fills them up with Jameson.

“This one’s on the house sweetheat, it’ll help make your date cuter.” He winks with a sly grin, your stomach flutters with his full attention on you like this.

The glass is heavy in your grasp as you stare at the dark liquid with a faint grimace. His low chuckle catches your attention before the pop and hiss of the soda fills your ears. As if reading your mind he slides over a coke, letting you keep your pride by not having to ask for a chaser.

“How do you know I’m here for a date?” Raising a questioning brow, the sides of your lips twitch as you struggle to hold a straight face. “A girl can’t come to the bar alone on a Friday night?”

The chocolate in his eyes lights up at your playful banter, slinging a white towel over his shoulder he leans in, forearms pressing hard against the counter as he invades your space. The spice of his cologne and the burn of cigarette smoke joins with him and you find yourself sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you telling me you’re available then?” Dropping his voice low enough to feel between your legs, you wished more than anything you had a different answer to give him.

The heaviness of his gaze has your cheeks warming, the intensity of the eye contact forcing your gaze away for a second as you clear your throat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you muster enough courage to meet his eyes again.

“N-no unfortunately, you were right.” Exaggerating a heavy sigh, his confident demeanor never wavers despite his confirmed suspicions.

“Unfortunately is right, huh?” Winking, he pushes back leaving only the lingering scent of his cologne raising his shot in an offering of cheers. “To what could have been, baby.”

A giggle bubbles past your lips when his fingers brush against yours meeting in the middle with a clink. Downing his shot like a professional, he’s left to watch the way you struggle with yours. Amusement is evident on his face while he watches the way your throat stays unwilling to open. Holding the alcohol in your mouth longer than anyone would want, it finally gives in letting the bitter liquid go down with a bite. Pushing the can of coke towards you with his knuckles, his laugh booms loud from his chest as you search for reprieve in the sweetness with desperation.

Chugging with abandon, you forget your surroundings for a second before your eyes meet his over the rim of the can and it’s almost enough to have you snort the rest of it all over yourself.

Coming up for air you grumble a half assed “shut up” doing your best to try and fight the smile begging to spread across your lips as you wipe them with the back of your hand.

“Not a whiskey girl I take it?” Punctuating the ‘t’ harder than normal, his teasing falls on deaf ears when you get distracted at the way his thick fingers wrap around the shot glasses.

“Not a shot girl in general, I’d rather not taste the alcohol if I can help it.” Shrugging, you trace invisible patterns on the sticky quartz of the bar top with french tipped nails silently reminding yourself for the second time tonight you’re here for a date.

“So how’d you two meet?” He raises his voice so it comes out sickly sweet while a shaker and a lemon appears in his hands. Setting them down on top of the worn jagermeister logo that covers the drink mat he starts rolling the fruit against his palm.

“We haven’t met yet actually, a friend set us up.”

Eddie’s movements freeze for a second, eyebrows furrowing together in a look of confusion as if that was the craziest thing that anyone had ever told him. He grabs the bottle of simple syrup adding more to what looked like it was going to be a sweet drink before he answers.

“Someone like you shouldn’t need to be set up, sweetheart.” He looks up at you from under the hood of his lashes quickly picking up on the effect he has on you.

He twirls another empty glass onto the counter top before he smashes the lid of the shaker on, not giving you a chance to respond he starts shaking it louder than you know is necessary. The bats tattooed on his arm dance across the muscles with the flex of every flick of his wrist.

“Really? Laying it on thick, huh?” Raising your voice enough to know he could hear you, he taunts you by cupping his free hand over his ear to make a show of pretending he can’t, mouthing a ‘sorry’ with a smirk. The laugh he earns from when he finally relents is the prettiest sound he thinks he’s ever heard.

“Well I hope this ‘friend’ has a good vetting process. No less than three interviews or no dice.” He pours your drink with panache, like he’s putting on a show for you, like you’re sure he does with all the other girls.

Grabbing a straw he plugs one end with his index finger before he dips it into the slightly lighter liquid. The heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable when his lips wrap around the end tasting his creation with a low groan, his pink tongue pokes out to collect the sweetness left behind.

“I think, I think you’re gonna like this one. It’s an Eddie Munson original, I’m calling it "Wasting Love.” The roll of your eyes makes him bark out another laugh. The signs of the smoke you smell on him are more noticeable in this one’s rumble.

“I wonder what could have inspired it?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you knew you shouldn’t be flirting with him while you waited for Craig, but you can’t help yourself. Besides, he was already ten minutes late.

“I think you know what inspired it sweetheart, I can tell you’re not just some pretty face.” Dimples poking through his cheeks, he finally takes notice of the glares from the customers filling up the bar. Everyone’s patience starting to wear thin while they waited for whatever this was to be over.

“I gotta stop ignoring all the other people in here real quick, but I’ll be back for your review.” He throws you another wink and it has you shifting in your seat as he starts to walk away.

“Wait! I never opened a tab!” Calling after him as you reach for your purse, he tuts loudly, turning around to face you, continuing his path walking backwards.

“You shouldn’t be paying for a thing tonight, gorgeous.” He waves his hand dismissively before his back is to you again giving his undivided attention to the bearded man who looked ready to murder the carefree metal head if he didn’t get his Bud Light in the next five seconds.

Trying not to get too caught up in someone that wasn’t your date you timidly bring the straw to your lips. Humming appreciatively when the sweetness hits your tastebuds you’re pleasantly surprised at how much you actually like it. Feeling bold enough to take a bigger gulp, you look around for Craig again. So lost in the little bubble you had been in with Eddie you didn’t realize how much more the bar had filled up since you arrived. A new kind of rowdy energy in the air — the low murmurs of conversation get loud enough to drown out Semi- Charmed Kinda Life.

Glancing down at your pink swatch watch, your date was now twenty minutes late. Turning around to check and make sure the lavender cross body you told him to look for was visible, you crane your neck around looking one last time. It’s easy to shrug off the sinking feeling of rejection when you turn back around to watch Eddie in his natural habitat.

He moves behind the bar like he’s been doing it his whole life, like everything was muscle memory. As if he could feel you staring he catches your gaze throwing you a smirk before he tosses a bottle of tequila in the air catching it with ease. Pouring it into four lined up shot glasses, the group of girls in front of him celebrating what looked like a bachelorette party with all their multi-colored hats and boas squealed with drunk delight. Your eyes hit the back of your skull in a hard roll when one of them bats their eyelashes at him with a hand on his arm.

Sucking down the rest of your drink, the slurping once you hit the ice is loud enough to annoy the guy next to you who shoots you a warning look over his shoulder. Mouthing an apology you push your empty glass away looking around the bar one more time. The guilt of flirting with Eddie starts to disappear when you look at your watch again and start coming to terms you were actually being stood up. Searching for his doe eyes again, your heart sinks when you find him this time.

Dimples in his cheeks again, he’s practically beaming at her. Their body language telling you this isn’t their first time meeting and how animated he is when he talks to her is like he’s known her for years. Gesturing wildly with his hands while she nods enthusiastically, something he says has her throwing her head back with a laugh loud enough you can hear it over the music. You huff through your nose, the sting of rejection sneaking its way back in. The reminder that he was just doing his job and you were here for a date, one that never showed up, slaps you right in the face.

Averting your gaze to spare whatever confidence you have left, your eyes find the bouncer at the front door. Inside the bar now with a hard glare set on his handsome face. His arms sit folded across his broad chest while his jaw clenches at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders flex. Steve looks pissed.

Interest piqued, you follow his line of sight despite it going in the direction of the bar you were trying to avoid. Somehow not surprised when your eyes land on her again, you notice Eddie has already busied himself with someone else. With his back towards both of you he fills two pints with Blue Moon, the uncomfortable look on her face couldn’t be missed. The greasy blonde hair on the man that was clearly invading her personal space told you he’d been drinking all day. The grimace on her pretty face says she could smell it on his breath too.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you see him grab onto her arm while trying to whisper in her ear. You feel yourself ready to stand up and help when she pushes him away, with the way the veins in her neck were flexing whatever she was saying to him wasn't nice. Shoving her hand in his face she storms towards the front door where Steve is waiting, looking seconds away from killing the man who followed her path out of the bar with a leer.

The scowl on her face softens instantly when she’s met with Steve opening the door, the glare on his face being replaced with a deep flush when you catch a “Thanks, Stevie” fall appreciatively from her lips.

SMACK

Jumping at the sound of metal hitting wood, Eddie’s dimples show themselves only this time they are for you as he leans forward on his arms again, eyes flicking towards the spot next to you. He pulls himself even closer when he notices no one new occupying the stool, making you search for friction with the fat of your thighs.

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” Flashing you his perfect teeth for the second time tonight the bruise to your ego already starts to disappear.

“I drank it without gagging, didn’t I?” Crossing your arms on top of the bar it's your turn to lean into his space and you swear you hear his breath hitch at your new boldness.

Licking his lips, your eyes greedily follow the path of his tongue. His smile stretches across his face even more when he notices, making no effort to move- unwilling to back down from the silent standoff you’ve challenged him too.

“‘I’ll have you know I take that as a very high compliment coming from you.” His breath fans across your cheeks from this close, mint and whiskey hitting your nose when he huffs a laugh. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Turns out there was no Prince, just an ugly old toad.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him through half lidded eyes, “Good thing I didn’t kiss him, huh?”

A low rumble shakes in his chest as he dares to lean in even closer, the tips of your noses almost brushing while the bubble you’d lost yourselves in reappears.

“Yeah baby, you can’t give those out to just anybody, they gotta be for someone special.” His voice is low, dripping with the kind of want you’d never had directed at you before. His eyes take in every inch of your face from this close while you try to keep up with his smooth tongue.

“Got anyone in mind, Eddie?” Doing your best to match his tone, his brows pinch together at the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth taking one last look at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah, I know a guy actually. He’s a bartender with a great head of hair.” Wiggling his eyebrows when you snort, the front door swings open, breaking you two apart as the girl from before commands the room like a record scratch, silencing the bar for the first time all night.

“Eddie! It’s bad, Steve needs you!” The sheer panic in her voice is enough for the jealous monster inside you to stay at bay as Eddie pushes back on his heels.

An irritated sigh escapes him while he mutters ‘not a-fucking-gain’ under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes find yours. You jump a little when he grabs your hands, the warmth of his palms enveloping yours while he gives you a pleading look.

“Don’t - I mean, please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back, I need to go save my buddy’s ass again. But I promise I’ll be right back, this conversation is too important to leave unfinished.” He flashes you that million dollar smile like chaos isn’t ensuing outside and all you can do is nod, signaling that you’ll stay put.

Hopping over the bar his loose fitting combat boots squeak over the counter top, the black jeans that were hidden from your sight somehow fit him even better than his shirt. Your gaze is shamelessly hungry as it follows him until he’s out the door. The scuffle outside leaking through the music with a blur of bodies outside.

Too focused on the glimpse of Eddie’s towering frame stepping between the two guys to break up the fight, you don’t notice the person who walks through the unattended door until it shuts behind him with a thud. Ready to glare at whoever it is your eyes widen when you meet the ones belonging to who you can only assume is Craig. The burnt auburn hair he sports and the way he zero’s in on your purse confirms your suspicions. This was Craig, you're incredibly late and not even remotely as attractive as the bartender, date.

“Shit, shit, shit.” No matter how quickly you averted your stare, you knew it was too late, he saw you. Panic sets in while your brain goes a mile a minute trying to think a way out of this.

Looking around the bar for some sort of escape, the thought of ducking into the bathroom sounds like a winner but then the image of Eddie coming back and seeing you gone seeps into the forefront of your mind making you quickly toss that idea out the window. Turning to the people on either side of you who are too lost in their own conversations to notice your dilemma, you try to decide which one you could interrupt the most naturally.

The couple on your right looks like they’re on a date going really well and the one on your left seems like two friends catching up. The tap on your shoulder is enough for you to make a split second decision, clearing your throat you spare the newly blossoming romance next you from your desperate antics, choosing to interrupt the friends who are reconnecting with a loud fake laugh.

“That’s when she told me- um excuse me do I know you?” Gruff and confused, the man closest to you looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. First your loud slurping and now this? This plan was never going to work from the get-go.

Another persistent tap on your shoulder has you grasping for straws. You open your mouth to try to sell whatever this was one last time.

“Umm excuse me?” Craig’s voice comes out loud enough to cut you off and for the poor guy next to you to give you the final cold shoulder. Unable to ignore him any longer, you force yourself to turn around and face him head on. Kind of.

Channeling your inner Alicia Silverstone you try to give him the best Clueless look you can muster and he returns it with an even more confused expression, clearing his throat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Craig, Ariana’s friend. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tan slacks, the maroon sweater he wears fits loosely over his thin frame, dirty black chucks on his feet, his look screams ‘I listen to Nirvana’.

“Umm, I think you have the wrong person? I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here tonight.” It’s not believable in the slightest when the words leave your mouth, your less than confident delivery giving you away. The look on his face lets you know you’ve definitely been made

“Are you sure? I was told to look for the girl with a lavender purse.” As if to prove his point he points to the exact one he’s talking about slung across your shoulder. He scoffs when you keep up with your charade, “I know I’m late but this is ridiculous.”

“A lot of girls have purple bags, Craig.” His name comes out dripping in venom, the need to get rid of him before Eddie’s return throwing any logic out the window. You needed to believe your own lie.

The sudden harshness has him raising his hands in defense, backing down a little under the daggers of your glare.

“Whoa, chill out, my bad. You just match the exact description I was given, that's all.”

Clenching your jaw in frustration because he just won’t give up, you try to hold your composure while your eyes flick towards the door in anticipation for his return.

“Well you’ve told me you were late twice already so she probably just left. Rude of you to keep her waiting honestly.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you know that he’s aware of exactly what you are doing but you don’t care anymore.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened, and not her being bitter I’m one measly hour late.” The way his words clip signal the rejection sinking in, a glare setting firm on his face.

It’s the stare down of the century before Eddie comes barging through the entrance with a loud huff and a clap of his hands. Cheeks red from yelling and hair slightly more wild than before. He checks to make sure you’re still exactly where he left you before he glances over to Craig for a split second not registering who he is. Hopping over the bar with another skid of his boots, he still manages to give you a lopsided grin when he gets to the other side. Hitting the top of the bar in a series of beats - he’s a ball of energy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, Steve’s lucky the girl he took a knuckle sandwich for has a first aid kit. Rick keeps saying he’s gonna get one but I have yet to see it. Want another cocktail?” Talking a mile a minute with the leftover adrenaline from the fight, he still doesn’t notice the way Craig watches the two of you until he catches how awkward you’re being. Eddie’s face hardens, the softness he was giving you disappearing. “Something I can help you with buddy?”

You don’t even have to look at Craig to know he’s puffing out his chest with a point of his chin addressing Eddie.

“Actually pal, maybe you can.” His tone makes Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, a tested smile spreading over his lips while he lets Craig continue. “I was supposed to meet someone here for a blind date, I was told to look for a girl with a lavender purse exactly like this one. You haven't seen another girl with this exact same bag have you?”

Eddie’s wide eyes meet yours, amusement filling the specks of golden brown as he picks up on exactly what’s happening. The corners of his lips twitch before he nods his head licking his bottom lip holding your gaze long enough to make you squirm before bringing his attention back to Craig with a low whistle.

“Oh yeah, I remember that hottie, man. It’s a shame you were late, she took off with this dude she met waiting for you. She didn’t stand a chance, though, honestly. I know the guy, he’s too smooth for his own good. Pretty good looking too. Can’t be leaving your girl unattended around him. Probably wouldn’t have worked out between you two anyway.” Eddie catches the roll of your eyes at his self indulgent story as you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to hide your face splitting grin.

“Why don’t you walk away with some dignity. What’s that saying? There’s always more fish in the sea or some shit.” Eddie adds more salt to the wound, finally breaking Craig enough to give up.

“Whatever you say man, this bar is fuckin’ lame anyway. Who wants to drink to Third Eye Blind.” Grumbling his insults as he slinks away, he takes one last look at you and Eddie before his final exit with a flip of his middle finger.

Eddie’s stare is hot on your face, while you bashfully avoid his gaze keeping your eyes lingering on the door. When you finally dare to meet his eyes the shit eating grin on his face makes you groan, the buzz of your drink pulling a giggle out of you.

“Eddie, don’t —“

“Well, well, aren’t you just a little heartbreaker, huh?” His teasing only makes your cheeks grow hotter as you try to hide your face from his view.

“Don’t you need to go attend to all the customers you left?” Your words come out muffled from behind your hands as you slowly pull them down just enough to uncover the fake glare you were sending his way.

“I’ve got my favorite one right here.” Voice dropping low with a smirk, he was right, you didn’t stand a chance.

“I haven’t paid for a single thing, you refused my money if you remember.” Bringing your hands down to fully come out of hiding, he bites his bottom lip when he can take in your features again.

“It’s no good here, baby, I could actually get arrested if I take it and then how would I be able to take you out to get pancakes after my shift if I’m behind bars?” Bringing his hands together in mock shackles and a pout, the chain wrapped around his wrist catches your eyes for the first time.

“You’re takin’ me to get pancakes?” Flirting like a love sick teenager, you even start to kick your feet under the bar.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re my fill in bouncer for the rest of the night.” Smirking, he nods his head to the man at the opposite end of the bar flagging him down with a twenty dollar bill. His eyes sparkling with something new now that he had you.

“Me? A Bouncer? I’m not intimidating in the slightest!” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you smile at his retreating form, the game of ‘playing hard to get’ becoming a thing of the past now.

“Sorry, you owe me, heartbreaker.” He shrugs like it’s out of his control before flashing you the same lopsided grin leaving you a mess of nerves from getting to spend the night with him.

The hours till close go by faster than you anticipate with Eddie topping off your drink any time you ask, the buzz from the alcohol is just enough to handle the growing intensity of his flirting. Now that the only obstacle in the way of each other was time, he was relentless.

Enjoying the game of chicken the two of you had started unconsciously playing, you stop noticing the clock. Every six customers earns you five —sometimes ten minutes of his time and he makes sure to use every second of those breaks as an excuse to lean in close, whispering in your ear, holding your face close every time you talk. He was getting off on the way he could make you shift in your seat and hide your bottom lip between your teeth when he got close enough for his lips to brush against your ear. Your fingers find excuses to wrap around his wrist when he invades your space, playing with his chain, you keep him close making sure to tilt your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse down your neck into the low cut of your dress.

The small hand on the clock above the door hits the three and it’s not until his breaks start getting longer and your touches are able to get a little bolder that you notice the murmur of voices over the music disappears. The few stranglers left sipping their last drinks of the evening are paying the two of you no mind despite the way he’s tucking your hair out of his way to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose.

The realization that you’re finally about to be alone with him brings your nerves to a head and the need to check yourself over in the bathroom mirror becomes urgent. The flick of his tongue along your earlobe distracts you for a second as your head nudges against his when it tickles making a giggle slip past your lips.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, Eddie.” You inhale the scent of pine lingering in his shampoo, giving him one last nudge with your nose before hopping off the stool. He gives you his best puppy eyes as you get up to leave, pushing out his bottom lip when you tug your dress down.

“Please, I’ll be like three minutes.” You roll your eyes at him but the smile that lights up your face tells him you’re eating it up.

“I’ll be counting every second you're gone, baby.” Holding his hands over his heart for dramatic effect the man at the end of the bar snorts loudly ruining the moment. He earns an annoyed glare from the bartender, “Better hurry up and finish that shit old man, it’s closing time.”

You hear him grunt in response to Eddie’s rude reminder before disappearing into the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Stickers and writing with permanent marker cover every inch of the dark crimson walls. The doors of the black stalls barely hang from their hinges, dents from many reckless drunk nights at The Foxy Lounge punch random spots into the metal. The bottom of your sneakers stick to the floor with every step to the mirror where more stickers and black scribbles line the surface including a girl named Leigh’s phone number with the note ‘for a good time call’ attached at the end leaving just enough room to see your face.

The space buns on top of your head are messy from Eddie nuzzling his beard into your hair all night. You try to salvage what was left of them by tightening the knots a little more before deciding it's a lost cause. He was probably just going to mess them up more anyway. The thought of Eddie’s hands being free to touch you in every way you’ve wanted all night has you taking a deep breath while you hold your own eyes in the mirror.

“It’s happening, you’re gonna have sex with him. You’re gonna fuck the super hot bartender who flirts like it’s his second language tonight and you’re gonna be confident about it okay? You hear me?” Pointing to yourself in the mirror, the determination in your stare is enough for your tipsy pep talk to work its magic.

Taking one last look at yourself with a nod of your head you pull open the bathroom door ready to take on the rest of the night. Only to stop in your tracks when you notice the stool that was occupied is now empty and every inch of Eddie is also in full view from where he stands in front of the jukebox. Your eyes are insatiable taking in his tall frame like this for the first time all night.

You notice the giant chain that hangs from his belt loop this time, and there’s even more rips in his jeans than before giving you a peek at the pale skin hidden underneath. His shoulder blades move under the thin fabric of his shirt when he clicks his choice on the machine. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer spills out from the speakers of the bar as he turns on his heels, the smirk that plays on his lips dares you to catch the hint with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Very subtle.” Crossing your arms as if to act immune to his charms, you know he sees right through your facade but he plays along anyway raising his big hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“It’s just one of my favorite songs, I don’t know what kinda ideas you got going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He takes a few more steps towards you slowly closing the gap, daring to be closer to you than he had been all night without a wooden bar separating you.

“Interesting, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Sixpence fan.” Raising your eyebrow, you have to look up at him when he finally takes the last few steps to stand in front of you.

“Why? Cause I’m such a tough guy?” His grin grows wider when he looks down at you catching the roll of your eyes while you uncross your arms opening your body up to him with a laugh.

“I can’t stand you.” Your swat is flirtatious with your palm hitting his chest. He’s quick to catch it, using your hand as leverage to pull you closer, biting back his groan when a breathy gasp slips past your lips when he tucks you into chest. First your giggle and now this? He just knew you were going to sound so pretty falling apart for him.

“I think Craig would call that bluff sweetheart.” He gives you a minute to let his words sink in, throwing his head back with a loud laugh when you huff at him embarrassed. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. He needed to be dumped, a girl like you deserves someone that's gonna show up when they’re supposed to.”

The sweetness of his words has you melt against him, the playful pull from before surrendering to his touch and you swear there’s hearts in your eyes from the way he looks down at you after saying something like that.

“Thanks for tonight Eddie,” your voice is small when it comes out laced with adoration, and it’s his turn to get bashful making your favorite dimples come out again.

“No problem sweetheart, honestly it’s my fuckin’ lucky night.” Pulling your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss to the skin stretched over them before letting your hand drop, noting the disappointment on your face that you’re quick to cover up.

“Wanna get some fresh air while I smoke before I close this place down?”

——

Eddie somehow looks even better under the twinkling stars and pink fluorescent lights of The Foxy Lounge sign. The low hum of the electricity filling your ears as you lean against the brick of the building. His eyes are brighter out here, catching them with your own when he looks at you over the end of his cigarette.

He winks when you meet his pointed gaze, the flame of his lighter casting shadows that dance across the strong lines of his jaw, the orange glow highlighting the stubble that covers it. Batting your lashes at him, you push your hips off the wall playfully while he keeps his eyes on you through his entire first drag, only breaking contact for the split second he needs to blow the smoke he inhaled away from you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” His words come out like a warning before he takes another hit.

“How am I looking at you Eddie?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you make sure to say his name extra sweet just how you figured out he likes. He shakes his head with a low chuckle blowing more smoke into the clear night sky.

Despite only taking two drags, he flicks the barely smoked cigarette to the side before closing the distance with a few steps leaving him crowding you against the building. Your chest brushes against his with every shallow breath. Getting lost in the darkening amber inside his eyes, the calloused tips of his fingers catch against the soft skin of your chin. The pad of his thumb pulling the velvet of your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Ducking his head down he nudges your nose with his, the heat of his breath fanning against your open mouth. His eyes go from yours back down to your glossed lips silently begging for your permission.

“I think it was you that was hinting at kissing me earlier.” Pushing up on your tiptoes, you smile against him when your lips just barely touch.

“Oh? You think that’s what I was doing hmm?” Asking the question he already knows the answer to, his tongue licks against your top lip as your hands find the material of his shirt, fisting as much of it as you can before yanking him down to collect his lips with an eager mouth, giving up winning whatever game this was.

You swallow his moan when your tongues meet in the middle battling for dominance, teeth scraping, you taste the few puffs of tobacco still lingering on his taste buds as his muscle massages against yours. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he smiles smug into the kiss when your hips search for friction against the denim.

He breaks away from your mouth long enough to start trailing wet kisses down your jaw, the rough hair on his chin rubbing your skin raw as he starts nipping and sucking bruises along your neck. Biting hard enough at your pulse point to have to soothe it with his tongue after the mewls he pulls from you are enough to drive him insane.

Your fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, giving his roots a pull while you turn your head, opening more of yourself to him. Taking your silent invitation he nips at the dip of your collar bone before lifting his head to press his forehead to yours.

“I gotta close up baby, but then…”rubbing his hands up your curves with a low groan he squeezes at the plush of your hips before finishing his sentence, “I think I promised you pancakes.”

Nodding your head because words are stuck at the tip of your tongue, he grabs your cheeks with a strong grip, smushing your lips together before stealing one last kiss.

——-

Eddie doesn’t give you the attention you’ve grown accustomed to all night when he starts the process of actually cleaning the bar. Your body still buzzes like a live wire from the drinks and the kiss outside. He’d been counting his tips with his back to you for the last ten minutes and you were growing impatient for more of him. You needed it.

Counting the last bill he finally turns around and your thighs press together when you get to see his face again. Shifting in your seat when his eyes barely meet yours, he makes his way to the other end of the bar. Pushing yourself up to lean forward with puckered lips, he ignores your advances passing by without so much as a glance in your direction. Huffing when you plop back in your seat, he flips the knob starting to wash his hands in the mini sink with his back to you again. Your foot taps against the metal of the stool as you watch him grab the scratched up red bucket hanging below and a fresh rag quickly replacing his hands with it to fill up.

You wonder if he can feel your stare when he adds the soap, taking his time while he spins the rag in the steaming water, he starts ringing it out. Arms flexing and suds spilling over his knuckles, you were gonna lose your mind if you didn’t get your hands on him soon.

He makes big swipes as he starts working his way towards you, keeping his eyes so focused on his task you’d think you were invisible if it wasn’t for the smirk that was getting impossible for him to hide. It only grows bigger when he stops in front of you, adding a low hum to his charade purposely wiping around the outline of your hands that were splayed out on the counter ready to push yourself up again.

“Eddie - c’mon!”

You’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the laugh that falls easy from his chest when he finally looks at you. His face softens and his eyes darken when he catches your angry pout, your fingers are quick to find his free ones making him tsk at you but he doesn’t pull away.

“My hands are wet baby.” He knew you didn’t care and the teeth showing in his wide grin told you he didn’t either.

Giving into your persistence like it hasn’t been a fight to keep his hands to himself this whole time, he leans forward brushing his nose with yours before nudging it against your cheek so your lips just barely touch. When you go to close the space he pulls back just enough to tease, a small whine escaping you at his games.

“What’s got you so needy, huh?” His words are whispered as he presses with the slightest pressure before pulling back again. “I didn’t kiss you good enough outside, you need more?”

“Please.” Your cheeks burn when you hear how your voice sounds, but his grip on your fingers tighten and a low moan breaks through his front at how desperate you sound just for a kiss.

“Gotta give my girl what she needs.” Your brain gets stuck on the words ‘my girl’ taking you a minute to realize he was finally giving you what you want.

It’s slower than outside, he’s taking his time with you this time. Untangling his fingers from yours, his hand comes up to wrap around the side of your neck. The water feels good on your skin as the pad of his thumb starts rubbing soft lines under your jaw while his tongue swipes at your bottom lip looking for more. You don’t give into his advances on purpose, keeping your mouth closed to get him back for all his teasing you feel his smile grow against your own.

Expecting him to stop and surrender, he only doubles down. Catching your top lip with his bottom, he pulls away just enough for you to open your eyes. God, you wished you kept them closed. The brightness from outside had turned them into nothing but black leaving no trace of the specks of brown from before. The knowledge that he was just as affected by all of this as you sends you reeling. Toes curling inside your sneakers.

“Whining over here for me to give you what you want, and here I am baby, and you’re playing hard to get.” Nipping at your bottom lip he meets your heavy lidded gaze again, “Gonna let me give you what you want?”

He barely lets you finish nodding before he’s on you, the hunger from outside coming back as he leans over the bar to deepen the kiss like you’d been begging him for. Opening your mouth for him without hesitation when he asks for permission again your tongues meet lazily, exploring each other like you didn’t get a chance to before. Pushing up again eager to get more of him he pulls back leaving you breathless with spit slick lips.

Despite the way his chest heaves trying to catch his breath, he does his best to play it cool, smirking when you have no shame chasing for more.

“I gotta finish closing up.” He gives you one more chaste kiss before he starts wiping the rest of the counter down.

Jutting out your bottom lip into a pout, he laughs, throwing out a ‘you’ll survive five minutes baby.’

You leave him alone doing your best not to distract him, despite how much your fingers itch to have him close again. Grabbing the money from the register and the receipts for the night he disappears back into what you could only assume was Rick’s office. When he pops back out he looks a little more relaxed.

“Just gotta wipe the bottles down and then I’m getting the prettiest girl the best pancakes in town.” Clapping his hands together with a rub of his palms, he grabs another rag.

You were starting to hate pancakes. Not that you didn’t want them, you just wanted him more.

“Hey Eddie?” Trying to hide your ulterior motives in the sweetness of your voice, his eyes meet yours almost instantly and they narrow just as quick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Setting the rag down he leans forward with his palms on the bar he gives you his undivided attention. An intimidation tactic. Unable to help yourself, your eyes trace up the ink covering his arms.

“Teach me how to make that drink?” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you see something flash across his face, fingertips digging into the countertop after the question leaves your mouth.

“Wasting Love?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it that now, would you?” Laying it on thick, a slow smile spreads across his face. He saw what you were doing and he was going to fall into your trap willingly.

“Why don’t you come back here then, we’ll make our own.” His voice comes out low, his pupils taking over all the brown, pretty white teeth baring themselves at you.

His gaze is predatory when he watches you jump from the stool, the exaggerated sway of your hips keeps his eyes trained on the curve of your waist as you make your way into his space for the first time all night. Leaning against the back counter, his legs are spread wide leaving little to the imagination on how worked up you had him. His eyebrows raise when he sees the automatic press of your thighs at the sight. It wasn’t fair, you were trying to seduce him, not the other way around. He wasn’t even trying.

As if on cue the jukebox that had been left to play all night clicks, Ginuwine’s Pony pouring out of the speakers as he licks his lips unashamed at the way he’s drinking all of you in like this.

“Gonna teach me how to make something sweet, Eddie?” Trailing a finger along the bar while you close the distance, you drag out the ‘e’ at the end of his name just enough to get him to groan.

His hands grab your waist squeezing just hard enough to feel his strength before using it to pull you flush against him. The material of your dress doing nothing to hide how hard he is pressed into your ass. His lips trace the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as you push back into him searching for more. The stubble on his face rubs rough against the soft skin of your cheek as he punctuates each word with a roll of his hips.

“The sweetest, baby.”

You bite back your moan when his nose trails up your neck, his lips just barely grazing the warmth of your flesh before they settle back against your ear. You hold onto the wood of the bar in front of you when he hums low, feeling it deep in your core. His calloused fingers start a path up the bare skin of your thigh hiking up your dress when they catch the hem.

“Tell me,” your eyes close when his nose is pressed to your temple as he speaks, “Do you like cherries, baby?” His tongue catches your earlobe sucking it into his mouth, grazing it between his teeth when he lets it back out.

Your knees almost buckle at how good everything feels, the slow rock of his hips never stopping as he plucks at the lace trim of your underwear.

“Y- yeah, I love cherries,” you whimper when his palms lay flat on the outside of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin when he squeezes at the fat working his way back up.

��Of course you do, pretty.” His thumbs hook the sides of your underwear, “You’re just so sweet all the time, huh?” Despite the need for friction, you spread your legs for him wondering if he can hear the way your lips pull apart sticky, arousal coating the inside of your thighs.

He chuckles soft in your ear praising you with a ‘so sweet’ before giving them a tug, letting the red lace fall to the floor. Keeping his hands on your hips, he presses himself against you hard enough to have the heels of your sneakers pick up off the ground. A low ‘fuck’ slipping out from under his breath when you whine a little.

“Red lace? Was Kurt gonna get lucky or was this just a ploy to get me all along, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn at his question, his low chuckle tickling your ear when he hears you huff out an annoyed breath. “‘Cause if that’s the case all you would’ve had to do is walk through that door on any given night.”

He grinds himself against you one more time, but you can really feel him this time and it makes your legs shake.

“Are we gonna make this drink or do you wanna keep talking about Craig?” The shake of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed despite trying to be sharp with him but the grip on your waist still tightens at the mention of the other man’s name

“Sure we can, if that’s really what you wanna do.” His words taunt you but with one hand holding you against him the other flips a clean cocktail glass onto the bar top with ease, like he wasn’t rock hard digging into your back.

Reaching around, his hand trails up the front of your thigh sending goosebumps across your heated skin. A shiver runs down your spine when he dares to dip between your legs inching his way towards where you want him most.

“We better not mix liquors so why don’t you be a good girl and grab the whiskey for me.” His lips brush against your ear with every word, his hand never faltering on their path even when his fingertips meet your slick folds. Feather light, he traces along your slit, not daring to break the barrier yet. Brain hazy with want you don’t even comprehend what bottle you reach for, blindly grabbing for whatever was in front of you.

“That is tequila, sweetheart. Tsk, tsk, tsk are you even listening to what I’m saying? Or are you too…” Before he finishes his sentence he pushes his index finger past your entrance, your warm walls wrapping tight around his digit, “…distracted?”

Your head lulls back against his chest, your eyes closing when he pushes two knuckles deeper. Your needy whimper makes him kick up again making you grind your ass against him in response. Licking your lips, you try to collect yourself only chasing for more of his finger once.

“N-no, I can do it.” Determined to prove him wrong, you focus just long enough to grab the Jameson bottle, “What’s next?”

He hums in approval while his smile grows against your skin. Deciding to indulge in your stubborn game still, he curves his finger enough just to make you gasp his name.

“Are we keeping this simple, or do you want something a little more—” Adding a second finger, you stretch easily for him now, dripping down his hand, “Complicated?”

You shudder, a moan slipping past your lips while your grip on the bottle tightens so much you're scared it’ll shatter. Fuck, you gotta keep it …

“S- simple - oh.” His thumb finds your clit applying just enough pressure to have your mouth fall open and your brows to knit together, and just as quick as he’s there, he’s gone.

Pulling himself free, he tries his best to ignore the way your pussy tries to suck him back in, your body begging him for more. You whimper at the loss, your eyes opening to remind you where you are.

“I’m gonna need both hands to do this, baby.” His fingers shine with your slick when he wiggles them for show, stepping back just enough for you to see the grin on his face but not enough to get out of your personal space.

Grabbing his wrist, his eyes go dark when he realizes what you’re about to do. Gaze turning half lidded when your mouth opens, huffing out a deep breath when your tongue flattens against the pads of the two fingers that were just buried inside of you. Wrapping your lips around them, your arousal is tangy sweet hitting your taste buds.

Hollowing your cheeks as you suck them clean, you watch the confidence drain from his face, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the sight. The blunt ends of his nails dig through the soft material of your dress and he starts rutting into you with a little more force when you slide your tongue between each knuckle.

“Jesus christ,” his voice is strangled, words coming out through gritted teeth when you let him go with a loud pop.

“Now you can use both hands,” you say innocently, like you didn’t just suck them clean. You let his fingers tug at your bottom lip before dropping his wrist.

He fists a handful of your dress, a low growl rumbling from his chest getting a taste of his own medicine. Licking his lips, his eyes narrow at you before his teeth start to show, mischievous in the low light.

“Well if we want this drink cold, we need to fill this shaker with ice.” Just like the glass, he flips it on the counter one hand never leaving your waist despite his claim.

Pressing his lips to your ear again, he makes sure to let his breath linger a little before he talks, enjoying the goosebumps that appear from such a simple touch.

“Fill it up for me, baby?” Your thighs clench at the deep rasp in his voice, both of his hands finding a home spread out on your thighs.

Nodding your head you slide open the silver metal door of the ice chest below you, bending over more than you needed to to scoop it up into the shaker. He groans loud when you press into him like this, his fingers making quick work to flip the back of your dress up.

“Look at you, so fucking messy for me and I’ve barely touched you.” Grabbing a handful of your ass, he ruts into you, the rough denim hitting your clit in a way that has you moaning his name.

He laughs quietly at your neediness flipping your dress back down when you straighten out. Chests heaving in time with the other, neither one of you was ready to back down. Not yet.

“Might need to unzip those pants.” Looking over your shoulder at him you fake a pout, “Feeling a little strained back there handsome.”

Smugness dripping from the smile on your face, he raises his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

“Since you wanted something simple sweetheart, we just need two more things.” One hand snakes its way back between your legs, squeezing at the inside of your thigh before he lets you go for the first time since you set foot behind the bar.

Craning your neck so you could follow him, you find him bent down grabbing lemon juice from the mini fridge under the shorter back counter. Shutting the door with his foot when he stands up, he throws a wink your way when he grabs the simple syrup.

Setting the bottles in front of you he steals a quick kiss that leaves you wanting more before he grabs the small tub of cherries from the fridge he forgot his first go around.

“Okay, so you’re gonna grab the Jameson, and I want you to pour it out to the count of three for me then cut it off.” He returns to his place behind you, his large hand swallowing yours when it shadows your movements.

Your pour is shaky when he counts low in your ear, nuzzling his nose in your hair calling you a good girl after each successful addition to the simple concoction.

“Alright, now you’re gonna shake it as hard as you can angel.” His hands squeeze your hips for encouragement.

Doing as he says he pulls you against him even harder when your arms start to go wild. Your chest bounces with each movement making you giggle and you almost don’t hear the hitch in his breath at the sight.

He helps you by putting the strainer over the rim of the glass when you’re ready to pour. Mumbling soft words of praise while he nibbles at your ear lobe. The drink is much lighter than the one you had all night, the dark orange turning lemon as the white foam fizzed on top.

“I think I could take your job.” You smirk reaching for the cherries to top it all off.

“You think you could take my job?” He snorts incredulous, watching you unwrap the plastic wrap from the small tub dropping three cherries into the already very sweet cocktail.

“Absolutely.” Grinning while ignoring his stare you reach for another cherry, “No doubt in my mind.” You grab the fruit between your teeth, finally meeting his eyes as you pull the stem, relishing in the burst of sugar and grenadine that erupts against your tongue.

“Tough luck princess, unless you know how to tie that cherry stem in a knot with your teeth, no bar in this town is gonna touch you.” Grabbing his own cherry, he dangles it in front of your frowning mouth for you to bite. Obliging him with it bumps your bottom lip you tug gently, taking the fruit before chewing slowly while he sucks the stem once before it disappears in his mouth.

“I’m calling your bluff now. No one knows how to actually do that.” Daring him to prove you wrong he mutters a ‘watch me’ between his working teeth.

You don’t lose focus on the way his hand on your waist starts to wander, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the fat of your thigh while his tongue ties the stem like it’s easy. Jaw flexing with each twist of his tongue before he pushes it out to show you, a pleased look on his face when the small knot in the middle comes out perfectly placed.

Swiping it off his tongue with the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, you wonder if he can still taste you when he sets it next to your drink satisfied by the way your jaw drops.

“How do you think I got this job? I’m more than just a cute face.” The touch of his hands grows bolder when they start working their way up your dress, a thickness in the air that wasn’t there before filling your lungs.

“That’s quite the skill set you have there Mr. Munson,” your giggle is breathless, your eyes going from his down to his lips as you try to play it off.

“I can do more than that with my tongue sweetheart, if you wanna find out.” His nose nudges against yours, the smirk on his face making you sweat when his fingers trace up your wet folds again.

Surrendering instantly, you forget all about the drink the two of you made nodding without hesitation the desperation for him all night finally taking over.

“Yeah?” His voice breaks when his thick fingers push into your entrance again feeling just how worked up all his teasing had you.

“Please - Eddie,” the pad of his thumb finds your clit again making you beg, “Fuck.”

“Asking me so sweet, how could I say no to you?” Murmuring against your lips, he finally gives in and kisses you. Wet and sloppy he only does it long enough to take your breath away before dropping to his knees.

His big hands on your hips angle you to face forward, flipping your dress up over your ass again. The air of the bar is still hot against your folds, arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re fully exposed to him now. You hear him suck the skin of his teeth at the sight, a ringed hand coming down just hard enough on your right cheek to make it jiggle before both hands palm the fat.

“I can’t believe you were gonna let anybody else but me have this pussy. Should be a punishable offense.” Pulling your cheeks apart to expose more of you to his hungry eyes, he pushes at the small of your back signaling for you to bend over more for him.

He moans loud enough to make you jump when you listen to his command, even you can hear the sound of your lips pulling apart for him.

“All this for me, baby, fuck, you spoil me.” He wastes no time burying his face between your folds, his talented tongue collecting your juices before finding your clit. The rough hair on his chin rubbing your sensitive skin raw as he shakes his head from side to side.

Squeezing your ass to pull you closer to his face when you try to run away, he sucks your bundle of nerves harder when he gets you back to where he wants you, dipping his nose into your entrance every time.

He does the motions he would do when he ties the cherry stem into a knot against your clit, a strangled moan ripping from your throat when he does it again.

Your hands find purchase on the top of the bar, eyes closed tight while you see white behind your lids. Your nails dig into the wood when his tongue flattens, the lewd squelching of your arousal filling your ears when he pushes his face so deep between your legs you aren’t sure if he can even breathe. The moan that rumbles through his chest and vibrates to your core tells you he doesn’t care. Wrapping his lips tight around your clit he sucks even harder, not caring when your legs start to shake from overstimulation.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna - fuck!” His name comes out long and drawn out when you fall apart on his tongue. Relentless, his teasing never stops, his hands holding you up while your body starts to shake. Humming low in satisfaction against your cunt.

“I n- need, I need…” willing your eyes to open, your vision’s blurry from how hard he made you cum. Pulling away with a loud smack of his lips, he palms your ass cheeks before craning his neck to try and get a good look at you.

“What do you need, baby?” He nips at the curve of your right cheek before pressing his face to it, dazed from getting what he’s wanted all night completely content.

“I just, I just need you to fuck me,” you don’t recognize the choke in your voice when you whine for him. Whine for more.

“Jesus christ.” His words tickle against your skin when he groans, kneading the soft flesh of your ass one more time before standing up.

His hands are on your hips before you can fully register the change in position, spinning you around and lifting you up he sets you on top of the counter behind the bar. The one where drinks aren’t served and the one that’s low enough for Eddie to slot himself perfectly between your legs.

Eyes blown black while his beard and nose ring shine with your slick, his lips part - swollen and pink from pulling your first orgasm out of you. Bangs clinging to his forehead, his hair is a wild mess on top of his head from your hands. The confident air about him is gone, replaced with nothing but the need to have you. Snapping out of your daze, you’re quick to find the metal of his belt buckle.

His forehead presses to yours, while he watches the way your dainty fingers work the leather out through the loop. The white tips of your nails catch his eye when you undo the button of his jeans and his cock twitches at the thought of them pumping him for all he’s worth.

He hisses when you push the denim down his hips, his hard dick springing out to smack against his shirt that you immediately wish wasn’t there. Precum leaks from the angry looking pink tip while your hands fist the hem of the worn cotton, silently begging him to get rid of it. The big vein that follows the curve of his length makes your mouth water as he obliges your pleas, ripping his shirt off and throwing it somewhere you’d have to find later.

You’re able to really take all of him in like this, his chest is heaving covered with just as many tattoos as the rest of him, the silver chain you’d peeped earlier hanging right in the dip between his pecs. Your eyes follow the dark patch of hair that leads to his cock, long with the kind of girth that you know is going to be a stretch, a strangled whine bubbles out of you at the sight while your thighs spread begging for him.

“God, I want you so bad,” you whine wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him even closer giving into your animalistic instincts.

“I know baby, me fuckin’ too.” He pumps his cock a few times groaning loud, squeezing hard at the base before pressing the head between your dripping lips. Mesmerized at how they wrap around his tip, his precum mixes messy with your arousal making lewd noises as he sweeps it through your folds.

Body shaking every time he hits your clit, you finally hook your ankles growing impatient when he teases your entrance.

“Fuck. Me.” You get out through gritted teeth, the lopsided grin he’d been giving you all night turns cocky when he pushes the tip in, your head lulls back at the invasion, the silk of your walls desperate to start sucking him deeper.

“Not so sweet now are you, huh?” Pushing himself all the way in, his rough thatch of pubic hair hits your clit when he bottoms out. His confidence falters for a second when a deep moan rips through his chest at the feeling. “So fuckin’ tight baby - shit.”

Your nails dig half crescent moons into his inked skin while you adjust to his size, his nose skimming against your cheek while he whispers how good you take him when your walls start to milk him, your body letting him know it was okay to finally move.

“Feel so good, Eddie, fuck - so good.” Your hips start a slow rock, feeling every ridge and curve of him. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist giving a perfect view of the way you take him, and it’s even better than what his imagination had come up with all night.

He lets you use him for a minute, big hands resting on your waist — content with just watching the way you coat his cock with everything you have left over for him from the first time he made you cum.

“That feels good, huh?” Cooing at the way your brows knit together and your mouth falls open, he picks up the pace, taking control.

Pulling you all the way to the edge, his strokes get deeper, the tip of him hitting the spot that you know Craig would have never found. He pulls his cock out half way, relishing how your velvet walls try to keep him in place, he holds his composure before pushing back in, filling you to the brim. Addicted to the way it makes you gasp his name and arch your back, your body asks him for more when you’re too cock drunk to get the words out.

The straps of your dress start slipping down your shoulders with every thrust, your breasts bouncing just begging for his attention. His cock twitches inside you, it's almost too much. Greedy for more despite fighting the urge to cum, he tugs the front of your dress down to reveal a matching bra to the panties on the floor. Hips stuttering for a moment he growls at the reminder of your date before tugging the lace down, your nipple pebbling instantly for him before he takes it in the heat of his mouth.

Pushing yourself closer, needing more, your hands find their way to bury themselves in his curls, holding him close. You needed him close. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bud and it makes you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hips finding a way to match his strokes, reigniting the flames deep in your gut. God, he was gonna make you cum again.

He grunts around your breast, spit dripping down your soft skin from his ministrations while the snap of his hips start to get harsher and you know he’s nearing his end. He lets your nipple go with a loud pop before his hand comes up to grip your chin, his lips finding yours in a frantic mess of teeth and battling tongues.

The wood creaks underneath you from the force of his thrusts and the bounce of your ass to meet them. Mouths tangled, you swallow each other's ragged breaths, both of you desperately searching for your end when his fingers find your clit. Rubbing circles with just enough pressure to have your body start to shake against his, he nips at your bottom lip grunting when he feels the way it makes you flutter around him.

“Come on baby, give me another one. Be my sweet girl again and tell me how good I make you cum.” His fingers slip against your clit, fingers wet from how worked up he had you but his words are enough to have your world stop for a second.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Ed-“ Going blind behind your closed eyes he coaxes your second orgasm out of you with a silent scream falling onto his turned up lips. Proud of his work, his hips start picking up their pace inching closer to his own release he’d been fighting off since going down on you.

“God, - fuck I’m close - where d-do you-?” Sweat drips down his forehead while he struggles to find his words, his impending orgasm making him short circuit.

“Inside, shit - please, I need it, Eddie.” Still needy and barely coming down, your legs around his waist tighten their hold, locking him in place while you use the last of your strength to help get him there.

“Whatever you’re doing - holy shit , Jesus - I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His hips press hard against yours when his cock twitches, spilling warm inside your greedy walls that don’t stop asking him for more. His face hides in your neck, the heat of his breath fanning against your sweat kissed skin while his body shakes with his release.

The roll of your hips never stops, just slowing enough to make him shiver after he starts softening, spent inside of you. You know there’s a mess starting to drip but neither one of you has the energy to move just yet. His lips start leaving small kisses along your neck, nose nudging against the space behind your ear and you can feel his smile against your cheek before he finally lifts his head up. The brown in his eyes return to a warm auburn like before when they meet yours.

“Rick is gonna fucking kill me if he ever finds out what happened on this counter tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you snort at his joke before shoving against his chest.

“You’re telling me you don’t fuck all your cute customers behind the bar, Eddie?” Batting your lashes at him, he squeezes your hips with a smirk.

“Only, the really, really cute ones. I take them to get pancakes at IHOP around the corner, too.” Something shifts in his eyes and you think for a second you might see self doubt in them for the first time all night, “That is, if they still want to.”

“Well lucky for you, I only let bartender’s from The Foxy Lounge take me out.” Nudging your nose against his, your smile touches his lips.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m the only bartender here right?” Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, he quickly gets rid of the space between you, kissing you like it too.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #whatta man #my writing

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