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#it was just really funny with the jingling
emhm · 3 days
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(Just still thinking about how Solar called himself a bit more domesticated eclipse in chapter 65)
I still feel like that's accurate. With ONE EXCEPTION. Solar is a massive snippy bitch without his morning coffee. He's very much addicted. Oddly Eclipse is not. He can take or leave it.
Solar moped on the balcony while Moon paced back and forth talking on the phone. The twins were already down in the Daycare with Sun, Lunar and Earth. His tone was a little snappish."So are we going or what?" Moon waved his hand in annoyance, gesturing that he was still on the phone. The patchwork sun laid back with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Yeah! I can do that. Give me a few minutes to grab it and we'll be over there shortly." He hung up the call and called out to Solar. "You are in a terrible mood. You sound like Eclipse when you make that noise." "Funny that since we're practically the same person." Moon rested his hands on his hips with a jingle. "Oh you ARE in a bad mood. Is it really just the coffee?" "I'm very tired and shaky without it and my head hurts, so YEAH MOST LIKELY."
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coochellati · 3 months
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something unrealistic about Golden Wind is that Bruno’s suit doesn’t jingle with every movement. how tf is he so stealthy? you’d hear this man from a mile away thanks to those pull-tab charms.
I made this video to show what he should sound like:
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jingle jingle
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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Jingles a little bell in front of you to convince you to do tasks.
[First] Prev <--> Next
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ot3 · 1 year
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by establishing from the baseline that their show was completely ungrounded in reality, either that of the original archie universe's or our own, they set the precedent that everything was on the table and they are in fact following through on that. that's more integrity than you get from most television these days. you guys are afraid to open your hearts to riverdale but riverdale has never been afraid to show its heart to all of you.
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starpros-sunshine · 10 months
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The king/court jester posts are actually my favourite genre of posts because they just speak to me on a very certain level I can not fully describe
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neonicclover · 6 months
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Hello people who may be interested. I made a blog where I will now but my thought ramblings. It's essentially a really weird diary but ppl can just look at it. Which I guess is what blogging is, really.
It'll likely be abt all kinds of stuff. From things I'm watching. My cat. Lots of psychological ramblings; analyzing myself, observations of society, frequent social media users, taking the time to break down someone's absurd reaction or conclusion about something- not in defense, but to give a clearer picture on what... may be going on in their head. Might post some theories on the human mind as well.
I'll probably reblog this from time to time for anyone who doesn't know about it and is interested, or just wants to know it exists for when I elaborate on a specific topic. Like maybe a character or media you like.
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gorkaya-trava · 6 months
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when I say I love silver rings I really mean that lol. it's just a nice sense to have them on my fingers for some reason
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the-tubort · 2 years
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My DonBrothers Episode 15 Thoughts
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rillette · 2 years
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hal built like persius by Antonio canova
TRUEEE!!! im ngl i sometimes use dramatic sculptures as refs when i draw him, i might've actually used that one at some point 😭
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lady-starkiller · 1 year
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Assorted Courier Six headcanons:
- Remembers absolutely nothing pre-shooting
- Took the name “Margaret” after listening to Peggy Lee on Radio New Vegas but she’ll usually just go by Mags or Maggie (only Margaret dear if it’s lily)
- Doc thinks she’s 19 since her wisdom teeth are just poking out
- Is tiny, maybe 5′3′’ at most, built to brute force charm her way through a situation and if not successful then she’s born to run
- Doesn’t often turn to violence which is strange for the mojave but she doesn’t even feel a way towards benny (no memory of the event, you know), even if everyone else expects her to swear revenge, she really doesn’t know what she’ll do one way or the other
- S: 2, P: 7, E: 6, C: 8, I: 3, A: 6, L: 8 with Small Frame trait
- Got her hands on a harmonica to realize that she can really play but has no memory of learning how to, with singing to match
- boone, after mags jumps in on harmonica for ‘this train is bound for glory’ at some random bar in freeside: you think getting shot in the head makes you good at music?
arcade: if so then boone I’d say you personally have made the mojave just a bit more musical
- Which means the kings basically gave her a new vegas passport just for providing A General Vibe to freeside
- Brain damage did a number to Mags, so much that she can’t focus too much on any one thing and her short term memory isn’t so good
- But anchoring important things to music helps her remember (she has jingles for every faction and for every quest, accompanied by harmonica)
- NCR didn’t take too well to Mags concluding her Nipton report with a rendition of ‘Fox on the Run’ though really she didn’t want to think about any of that horror
- Performing these songs around the Mojave nets Mags and co. a fair amount of caps though there have been times that her songs haven’t been well received (especially the ones that poke fun at the factions of the Mojave)
- Main alliance is with The Kings and The Followers, who Mags throws responsibility of New Vegas at with the mentality of ‘figure it out folks’
- Mags’ relationships with the NV companions are like: spare parental figures? spare parental figures please???
- After getting an independent New Vegas, Mags usually spends her days recording songs to play on the radio (she’s tired of repeat songs all the time!) but hits the road often to get inspiration for new ones
- Mags tried to teach her companions to play an instrument (any instrument!) but literally everyone sucks bad and Mags is so sad they can’t be a traveling band together :(((
- Took the happy trails gig just to play music on the road and didn’t expect to survive yet another near-death experience but ok I guess
- Unstoppable force (Mags’ fear of the Legion) vs. Immovable mountain (Graham knows new songs Mags has never heard before)
- Mags, rocking with ‘the man comes around’ vibing in her brain: oh grandpa? grandpa graham?
- mags, following graham around: please be my duet partner please please please plea
graham: go AWAY
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youremyonlyhope · 1 year
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#the urge to buy a last minute ticket to starkid's jingle ball that is literally sunday aka tomorrow since it's past midnight#is very strong right now since some posts of people's experiences at the first show are coming in#and it's making me nostalgic#i wasn't planning to go because i don't yet feel comfortable going to concerts#i barely feel comfortable seeing theatre but at least everyone's just sitting there#rather than standing up and singing along and maybe jumping and dancing too#feels too risky#but also. starkid. my loves.#but also. money. and covid. and the flu. and rsv. and general colds.#i'll decide by tomorrow. there's still tickets available. i almost hope it sells out so the universe decides for me.#right now it's like 75% i will not go because covid and lots of people and money. but 25% i wanna see my starkids.#it's funny because last week i was thinking back to my mindset when i saw starkid concerts as a teenager#(because space tour at the same venue was 11 years ago last week and my facebook memories were INTENSE)#(i really just posted like 10 times a day for at least 3 days after the concert STILL freaking out about it. oh 15 year old Hope)#and i was like 'yeah i've calmed down since then. i'm not the girl who will lose her voice at a starkid concert.'#but seeing the few pictures i was like 'aww... starkid concerts... nostalgia...' but like... i've seen them live 4+ times#and yet. i have a feeling Darren's gonna show up. because i noticed that it is coincidentally one of the dates he's not doing his solo show#so that's another reason towards going. but also. do i want to be around people? not really.#hmmmmmm#it's funny that Britney Coleman going on for Bobbie in Company was what made me go back to seeing live theatre again#and now starkid may be what gets me to see concerts again. if you want me to do something it has to be starkid related apparently.
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gamermattsgf · 3 months
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I mean it // homewrecker Matt
Warnings: smut / cheating plot / thigh ride / dry grinding / wet grinding / degradation kink / praise kink / spit kink / dom Matt x sub fem reader / mentions of drinking + smoking / mentions of drugs / hair pulling if you squint / cum kink / princess kink
Summary: in which Matt is only friends with a guy because he really wants his girlfriend…
Author’s notes: this is my longest one yet but I don’t know how I feel about it yet, I might warm to it later, who knows… obviously, I do not condone cheating, nor is it an acceptable thing to do to anyone, so again if you don’t like it, don’t read it. However, if Matt Sturniolo came up to me one day and offered to steal me away from a current boyfriend… I would not hesitate to take my clothes off on the spot. I rest my case.
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“She wears a ring? Came through without it, you really think she stays true? I doubt it, because I am fucking your girlfriend and there’s nothing you can do about it” - I mean it, G-Eazy
‘Yeah but Matt’s a dick…’
You shrug at your friend’s pointed comment, swishing around the last half of the strange alcoholic mixer that had been thrust into your hand the minute you had walked through the door.
Both of you stand to the side of the noisy, open living room area whilst your backs lean against the cold wallpaper of some rich kid’s penthouse.
‘Yeah… I know’
‘I could literally list all of the things wrong with him on my fingers and I would run out of them. I don’t even know why your boyfriend chooses to be friends with him’. She continues, taking a sip of her own drink whilst you stare off into the distance, mostly looking over to the opposite side of the room where a ping pong table has been set out and both the boyfriend in question and Matt - the subject of your degrading conversation - are playing in a heated game of beer pong.
‘I’m not sure either’
‘He’s a womaniser with literally no respect for anyone around him, he’s a narcissist, and he’s just constantly rude to people.’ She continues to rant aimlessly, her very large hoop earrings jingling as she shakes her head and denies someone who was offering her a selection of ecstasy pills on a silver platter.
The person doesn’t seem to care for the denial and instead shrugs his shoulders before moving on to pester the next highly intoxicated person, coaxing them into falling even more inebriated by placing the tempting round pill into the palm of their open hand.
She then starts again, waving her hands about dramatically whilst you secretly get lost in your own thoughts.
‘You should have heard what he said the other day about a random girl who passed us on the sidewalk, if I-’ but then her voice slowly fades into the distance the more you focus in on Ryan, who stands next to a Matt that cheers him on whilst he aims a ping pong ball up to throw it into one of the cups opposite them.
Matt wears a baggy dark green zip up hoodie that looks almost black in the flashing red LED lights of the room as weed smoke blows up into the air in thick plumes, like tiny little volcanos releasing their clouds of ash.
Suddenly, your heart squeezes strangely and you find yourself beginning to blush in embarrassment when Matt senses someone staring at him and so flicks his eyes over to you. He has his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets and wears a cheeky little smile on his face that puckers even more after he deflects his eyes to the back of Ryan’s head. He then looks back at you and makes a face, as if to playfully scold you for staring.
You bet he finds all of this so funny. The fact that you are looking at him instead of Ryan.
It immediately makes you feel bad, because you know that if you bump into Matt later tonight, he is most definitely going to bring this up just to tease you about it. However, something within the look of his eyes makes you inwardly squirm. Or maybe it’s the way his smirk suites his face so attractively…
But then you come to the conclusion that it is neither of those things, because what it really is, is the way he inconspicuously lifts his middle and pointer fingers up to split them at either side of his mouth and 'scratch his face’ whilst making direct eye contact with you.
He’s got a pair of fucking balls to innocently mimic the dirty joke of eating someone out, you’ll give him that. Whether it is intentional or not, it still makes you screw up your face in disgust and avert your eyes, to which Matt smiles in victory before re-joining the conversation that is being shared around the ping pong table at his end.
His lower half isn’t visible as he stands behind a Ryan that holds a cup in his hand already whilst his other one lets go of a white ball. Everyone watches it bounce to the other side of the table before it neatly splashes into one of the opposition’s cups.
People cheer for Ryan whilst the other random guy groans with his head thrown back. He playfully points at Ryan and Matt, saying something before he swipes up the shot and knocks it back with a screwed up face of disgust.
They’re probably all drinking the equivalent of burning gasoline in those vile, non-diluted drinks. And judging by the way Matt and Ryan have polished off quite a few of the cups on their side already, it’s clear that they must have come to get absolutely shit-faced at this party.
You secretly roll your eyes and nod along as you hum, pretending to listen to a word your friend is saying before another random girl who - your guess, knows her - comes up to chat.
This gives you an excuse to slip out of her eye-line.
Matt.
Aka, the asshole of all assholes, however… also more fondly known as ‘your boyfriend’s best friend’.
It’s not like what your friend says isn’t true, because all of it is. He is a womaniser, he is a narcissist, and he most definitely is disrespectful to everyone most of the time. In fact, Matt sometimes scares you. You don’t like opening your mouth in front of him at all, nor should anyone else, because no matter what is being said, he’ll still manage to be rude about it.
To say he is a fucking bully is an understatement. He’s the kind of person that will snigger at a guy in glasses and whisper about his appearance after he has passed by to his friends or trip up someone in the school hallways ‘by accident’, only to then watch their folders go flying for the fun of it. He is mean and unpleasant, and quite frankly a terrible influence on Ryan.
Plus, annoyingly, as your friend also points out, Matt loves girls, and he loves the attention he receives from them, because he knows he’s hot. Which doesn’t bother you at all, because you’re with Ryan. But what does concern you however, is that more often than not, you catch Matt looking at you in ways that clearly shouldn’t be allowed, especially since he knows that you are taken. No less taken by his best friend.
They are subtle, and he always immediately looks away after you catch him, but usually with no regret in his eyes and sometimes even with little conniving smirks on his face as though you are both sharing a little inside joke.
Ryan is as clueless as ever of course, he trusts too many people, and only ever really sees the best in Matt. He refuses to believe that Matt could be using his friendship for something else entirely. Because unfortunately, sometimes guy are only friends with other guys because they really want their girlfriends.
And lately… Matt has been absolutely oozing those vibes. Sometimes, you get inwardly pissed at Ryan for not realising the obvious signs, because Matt really doesn’t make it discreet. At all.
It always starts with the stupid shit like looking over at his phone whilst he’s texting Matt to arrange a hang out time, only to see Matt replying with an oh-so-innocent ‘oh cool, will ur gf be there?’ as a sneaky way of making sure that you’ll be around.
Either that or it’s him making blatantly flirty remarks, right in front of Ryan.
Stupidly… most of the time all of these go over Ryan’s head and you just have to roll your eyes at him.
The other thing that also leads you to this conclusion is the very worrying fact that you know Matt has a clear track record of being a notorious homewrecker. It’s like… his thing.
He loves pursuing something that people tell him is actually out of his reach. He loves being able to feel like he can touch the untouchable. And here he is, best friends with Ryan, but only because Ryan has a girlfriend… you.
Someone that he maybe- possibly? To your recollection… wants to fuck.
But that’s just your take on it, and it might not even be true, who knows what actually goes on in the complicated weave of Matt’s mind.
Heading further into the haze of the party, you stroll about, practically choking on the smell of sweat, perfume, nicotine and weed. Not to mention the fact that you almost get crushed in between the grinding body parts of people as their skin brushes and presses up against your own.
You trip up on your feet a couple of times and find it pretty hard to breathe in amongst all of the party goers as you barge your way through the claustrophobically intense crowd that flashes generic neon party colours of red, blue and green from the installed lights above.
Your ears ring and your head thumps at the sound of the tasteless rap music still playing, so you decide to do what any normal person would and go up the stairs to find an unoccupied room where you can just lie down and have some peace and quiet. You’re sure the guy throwing this rager has a couple to spare, even if in some of them people have already gone to fuck.
You’re not too drunk to have lost your grip on what is actually going on around you… you can still think straight, however, you’re not exactly stone cold sober either. So, you wobble your way up the stairs and then walk along the corridor, having to try a few rooms before finding a nice empty one.
Sitting down on the plush double bed you sigh. However, in your intoxicated state, you don’t quite realise that the light to the bathroom suite is on and that someone else is also shuffling around on the other side of the door.
Who that someone is, is only made apparent to you after the bathroom door unlocks and he comes stepping out whilst flicking off the light switch.
You quite literally freeze, and part of you thinks you get so much of a fright that you sober up a little when you gaze upon a full bodied Matt standing in the darkened doorway of the bathroom.
Oh…
Matt looks equally as caught off-guard as you as he narrows his eyes.
‘What are you doing in here?’ You stupidly announce, as if it is your own private room that he is in. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, his usual clipped tone being exercised on you as he responds with a sharp ‘I’m just looking around, jesus it’s not like it’s your bathroom’.
You gulp and shake your head in understanding, inwardly scolding yourself on the idiocy of what you had just said. Trying not to stumble upon your words the next time around you keep your eyes trained on him as he marches across the room to have a nose at some of the pictures hanging up on the walls. Now, your hands are shakily white knuckling the bedsheets… fuck, you can’t just leave! That would be weird.
You don’t have to start speaking again however, because Matt does it for you.
‘So why are you up here by yourself? Thought you would have been begging for Ry’s attention by now’. You can feel his smirk through the back of his fucking head.
Pretty much everything that comes out of this man’s mouth makes your blood sear hotly within your veins. Who the fuck does he think he is to say something like that about you?
‘Well I’m not am I?’
This is the only good comeback you can manage to think of and bite back in the time that he gives you. He is already starting to make your hands shake with nervousness.
His back is turned, but he always somehow manages to command your attention.
‘Yeah I guess so’ he shrugs, but then starts an annoying chuckle as he suddenly looks over his shoulder at your body sitting meekly on the bed, his jawline still as sharp as ever and protruding from his neck. ‘Seems like instead you’re looking for my attention then huh?’.
The quipped hum that travels from his throat makes you flush a cherry pink, and you struggle to keep up with his wit since you get nervous about the way he looks at you and the way he commands himself. ‘Oh really, and what gave you that impression?’. But immediately after you say this you wish you could take it back, because Matt swivels on his feet as though you had walked directly into a trap of his own making.
Which to be honest, you kind of had…
‘Well for one, you’re in here… with me. And two, you just couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of me earlier… and that’s not really supposed to be what loving girlfriends do’ he pouts his lips and tilts his head meanly, already psychologically bullying you because of how much you had looked at him earlier at the ping pong table in comparison to Ryan.
This time you directly roll your eyes at him and decide to get back up from your position on the bed. At least now you feel like you’re not at a loss for power due to the height difference. You don’t like the way that it’s too easy for him to completely tower over you from your spot on the patterned bed covers.
You can tell that Matt is also a little tipsy based off of the way he sways a little as he stands still, but just like yourself, it’s not enough alcohol to make him completely lose his grip on reality and who you are. So why is it, that he looks at you as though you are a hunk of fresh meat up for grabs?
Suddenly he looks away, taking a deep breath and reaching his hand to the nightstand next to the bed. He swipes up the book resting on top of it, and then slowly reads out the title of the classical novel. ‘The Lover’s Den… it’s one of those must reads isn’t it?’ He asks, still with the added patronising tone that never fails to tick you off.
Your skin feels itchy, and you want nothing more than to run out of this room and away from Matt’s presence, because his attitude really affects you in the strangest of ways. ‘Sure I guess…’ you shift awkwardly, trying to keep your answers as brief as possible.
You wish he would just put the book down, but instead he flips it around and starts to read the blurb.
‘An erotic romance filled with dark twists and a lover’s secret…’.
As he speaks these words your heart plummets into your ass. Next come his hooded eyes that flick up to yours and narrow impishly.
Please just let this be over.
You don’t want to be around Matt any more than you can help it, for conflicting reasons. If before you weren’t sure if whether or not he wanted to fuck you, now you’re pretty much certain he did.
You just hate the way that he is so critical about you, and how he can easily make you feel shy and embarrassed about yourself.
Matt is really attractive, almost unfairly attractive, which just makes you feel sick to your stomach about how often your feelings fight with one another when discussing the concepts of right and wrong. Because you shouldn’t be thinking about that at all, especially when you’re in a supposedly “loving” relationship with Ryan- that transforms into a less loving relationship with every single step Matt takes to get to your heaving figure.
By now he has dropped the book and it’s flopped quietly back down onto the mattress, the suggestive pages of the erotica long forgotten by Matt in favour of him getting to what he really wants… you.
‘Aren’t you a little tired of your relationship?’ He gently starts, as if trying to take on the tone of some kind of marriage counsellor. Your heart squeezes as little paper butterflies make their way around the step ladders of your rib cage.
Oh fuck, how the hell are you supposed to respond to that?
You end up simply keeping your lips sealed in shock. Instead, you opt to nervously gulp a drop of your saliva down your scratchy throat as one of your feet naturally takes a step back from his advancing body.
‘Maybe you want to explore a little before you tie any proper knots with your boyfriend no…?’
Matt has reached you now, and as a natural reaction you simply freeze in your spot of one foot stepped behind the other, your heart still galloping and your eyes blinking up at him widely.
As you begin to stutter, Matt’s mouth peels up into a satisfied smirk with his jawline sharp and his hot breath dispersing directly onto your face because of just how close he is. In fact, he’s so close that you can see the small little pores where his dark stubble grows in to shape his beard.
‘Y’know I like exploring too… a lot…’
His voice reduces to nothing more than a mere whisper now as his face gets incomprehensibly closer to yours. Your hands lay limp by your sides, that is, until Matt slowly gravitates his veined ones forward to pinch your softer skin in between his rougher, more masculine grip whilst his thumbs rub temptingly over the flesh that conjoins your pointer fingers to your thumbs.
Your breath is shaky and audible as Matt falls into a hushed quiet, taking your own silence as permission to press his lips against yours.
Something within your brain sounds a shrieking siren that screams ‘RYAN! RYAN! RYAN!’ Over and over again as Matt’s soft lips enclose over yours with a gentle victory that he treats cautiously at first. He’s buttering you up with his tender caresses and soothing voice, knowing exactly how to play to your weaknesses since he’s had practice at swinging sledgehammers at other people’s happy relationships before.
But, unfortunately for Matt, the little nagging voice of Ryan inside of your head succeeds.
Bile almost rises in your throat as reality comes to slap you in the face. You’re knocked out of Matt’s bewitching trance and are absolutely horrified as to what you are doing with him whilst your boyfriend is most likely located just down the stairs from the two of you.
Ripping yourself away, you jump back in terror and leave Matt to open his eyes and blink them, his lips already swollen with arousal before his hand comes up to smoosh against them in a vampiric manner. He then rubs away any saliva that might have oozed from out of his mouth as though he were swiping away blood.
Shaking your head in silence, you once again have practically no words to utter and instead spin on your heels. Making a beeline straight to the door, you leave Matt’s sexual aura behind, his presence and strong smell of aftershave still polluting your nose and playing with your senses before you grasp a hold of the doorknob and slip outside.
However, regrettably, you don’t leave Matt standing alone in the centre of the room for long, because as quickly as you had closed the door right in his face, you are shyly cracking it back open again and sliding into the room with a guilty grimace once more.
Matt only stands there with his arms crossed and a smug fucking smile on his face, the dim bedside table lamp lighting up both of your complexions with a yellowish lustre. It’s as if he knew that you wouldn’t be gone for long - which to be fair, was right - but it still irked you to admit it.
With a final swallow, you put a signature on an imaginary infidelity contract whilst standing meekly a couple of strides away from him. Fiddling with your hands self-consciously, you voice a curious but soft ‘tell me more…’.
Matt’s shoulders rise and his chest expands with a satisfied sigh, knowing that he has won and absolutely loving it in the process.
Walking up to you, his feet pad quietly on the carpet whilst your breaths once again mingle with one another. Regrettably, you feel now that the heartbeat is not just within your chest, but also in between your legs as Matt easily slips his body around to your back.
He exhales another gentle sigh, now a cool air hitting the side of your neck and making you shiver whilst his chest presses against your shoulder blades. Taking your hands within his once again, he now does something that makes you screw your eyes shut and completely mentally kick yourself because of how much you enjoy it.
Pressing his flat palms over the tops of your hands, he splays them onto the bottom of your thighs before sensually sliding his fingers into the slots between yours. Then, he starts dragging both of your hands up each of your thighs, making sure that you can feel as much as he can underneath the pads of your fingertips whilst he breathes into your ear and expands his chest along your back.
‘Hm… I also like a lot of touching…’ he whispers into your ear before nudging it with his nose.
The more you let him guide both of your hands, the closer they get to your now throbbing centre as they slip up your tender inner thighs. But before you two touch it, he expertly manoeuvres them back out to the sides.
Once again, the sensation of your boyfriend’s malicious best friend touching you without him knowing catches up to you and you accidentally freak out.
Jumping away slightly you shake your head and this time move further into the room rather than sprinting back out of the door again.
You begin to pace.
Matt looks at you as though he has the praying eyes of a panther, predatory instincts kicking in as soon as you move away from him.
Smacking his lips in annoyance he raises his eyebrows sassily at you, his earrings glinting in the small stream of light and glittering every time they wobble when he moves.
Making up your mind and making it up quickly, you throw your whole entire relationship built up on trust into the trash as you stutter out a pathetic, cheating question that you hope will answer the doubts running around in your head.
‘You won’t tell a fucking soul about this will you?’
Matt raises his eyebrows again to look at you in judgement before substituting his incredulity for a smirk instead. Placing one of his hands over his heart, his other one raises to his head whilst he pledges allegiance to you with a mocking nickname lilted onto the end of the quip for good measure.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart’
With this… somewhat reassurance, you genuinely believe that Matt won’t tell a soul. So, you decide to think like a man… with your clit instead of with your brain, just as they would with their dicks.
‘So… what else do you like?’ You curiously ask, your voice still laced with a huge amount of hesitance, because you know of Matt’s dating history… and based off of some of the horror stories you’ve heard, you’re sure he likes a lot of different things. He doesn’t seem to be the picky type.
But you let Matt answer for himself, and you also let him once again walk back up to you, this time allowing him into your personal space without any fight at all. In fact, you’re actually more responsive to his touch.
He trails his hands around the hem of your jeans, before fiddling with each side of your shirt whilst his seductive eyes mimic his raspy voice.
‘I like things sticky… wet and messy… if it’s not messy I don’t fucking want it’.
His voice is slow, like dripping hot honey coated in sugar. The overall sensual manner of it makes your panties pool and you can practically feel yourself sticking together down at your core. Matt plays on this a little bit more after he sees how much it affects you.
‘Can you do messy baby? With those gorgeous thighs of yours? You wanna be my good girl tonight?’
He pouts boyishly and then tilts his head just that little bit so that he can feather a teasing kiss onto your lips before pulling away.
By now he is standing in the gap between your legs, enough so that when he compliments your thighs he can reach down to them and cup the backs of them, giving them a testing little squeeze.
His nose runs down the arch of your neck to your shoulder as he does this and at the same time, you both test the waters by giving each other an inconspicuous grind. Matt moans slightly into your skin at the erotic motion whilst the scruffy hair by his ear rubs against your jawline.
Throughout all of this dry sex however, he still manages to keep cool and collected. Unlike you, who practically falls to a puddle at his feet. The only thing keeping you up is his big palms supporting your thighs whilst his lips pucker and pepper a sprinkling of small kisses all along your exposed shoulder.
‘You wanna know how I taste don’t you? How I feel’. His voice rasps cheekily whilst referring to his cock. Now it’s your turn to let something of a stuttered whimper out into the air that gets semi-trapped on the way up because of just how far back your neck tilts to let Matt in to your exposed skin. You notice that now, your back is also arched for him and his cock as well. God how needy could you be?
‘I bet you’re just aching to hear what I sound like when you pull my hair…’ he continues his tease, showing you no mercy as your own hands grip and tighten onto each of his shoulders. They tremor in apprehension.
And now, Matt decides, is the best possible time to give you another kiss. Only this time, it’s longer, heavier and thicker with the feelings of lust laced within the twists of his tongue. Matt also lets your thighs go just so that he can grab a hold of each side of your jawline to steady himself better into the kiss.
Just like he had said before, it’s messy, and it’s sloppy. You easily feel the slick consistency of your salivas layering over the fullness of your lips. He rubs his own pair against yours before trapping them and sucking them, his tongue licking slowly over the plump pink flesh.
‘Give me your tongue baby’
He speaks quietly into your lips, pinching your hip bones after he teases his hands underneath your shirt. Clearly wanting you to reciprocate his tongue motions, it doesn’t take you long to do so whilst he gently pushes his nose to nudge against yours. Sensually, he starts to walk backwards.
Bending his knees, he falls down onto the bed and it squeaks underneath his heavy weight before his thighs spread open and he hauls you to sit on top of one of them. You can feel your cheeks burning.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, just to gaslight yourself into believing that you’re not really doing what you’re actually doing.
If you can’t see Matt and see the way you’re perched on top of his thigh as he easily cradles your ass possessively within his hands, then it’s not happening.
After you start to use your tongue more, from Matt’s tilted neck, you hear a throaty hum of delight before he rasps a quick ‘that’s my girl’.
Only your stomach pools with regret. Because you’re actually not his girl. You’re supposed to be Ryan’s.
You try your best to push the thought to the back of your mind however, and instead focus on the way Matt gently starts to apply pressure to each of your ass cheeks, willing them to slide forward, before he moves his thumbs to the front of your hip bones so that he can dig them into your skin and push you back into a grinding motion.
Your breathing is heavy, as is his, but you still continue to kiss, the sounds of your lips erotically moving together being pretty much the only sound in the room until you decide to speak up in response to what he had said earlier.
‘Well it serves Ryan right for being so stupid and not dropping you when he should have…’
Matt sniggers meanly with a toothy smile through your kiss, almost triumphantly at the fact that he had managed to slip past Ryan’s eyes with ease and take you as if it were like taking candy from a baby.
‘Fuck… you’re just as bad as me baby, aren’t you?…’ he muses in surprise, raising his eyebrows teasingly whilst you break away from each other’s kisses just so that he can look into your eyes. His irises flick between the left side of your face to the right, his hands still working you into a soft grind above his thigh whilst he passes his reddened tongue over his moist lips, almost hungrily. You find it within yourself to weakly smirk at his statement.
‘I’ve been waiting to put my hands on you for so fucking long baby, you have no idea’ he mumbles, again with another low and conniving laugh, not even a single thought about how Ryan would feel about all of this travelling through his mind.
Nope. His only concern currently, is how he can’t wait to hear the way you breathe his name through sweat, tears and pleasure as he has you in any way he wants. He feels proud, as if he is finally claiming his prize for being the shittiest friend known to man. But Matt isn’t really a friendly type of guy anyway. So he doesn’t give a shit.
The only thing he had been interested in was you in the first place, all he had needed to do was find a way into your life without making it too obvious that he was trying to steal you right from underneath Ryan’s nose.
Slowly, he slips his hand down to the front of your jeans, swiftly and expertly manoeuvring his fingers to the button so that he can pop it open and yank down the zipper with a desperate speed about him.
‘Shut up Matt… I don’t want to hear you gloating about this’. You whine pathetically, shyly looking down at Matt’s spread legs and the bottom of his green hoodie that currently covers his black belt, just so that you don’t have to look into his eyes.
He scoffs, yourself still not safe from the sharp edge of his tongue. You yelp when he decides to flex his torso and flip you two around.
‘Oh so you’re gonna be a cheeky little bitch about this then hm? Well, maybe you don’t deserve to have my cock…’ the spit he comes out with is ugly and threatening.
You’ll admit… you’re not quite expecting the change in power dynamic, and just the very sight of seeing Matt crawling his body over yours and trapping you with an animalistic look in his eyes makes all of this seem very real. There’s no going back now…
You gulp and blink with doe-like shock whilst Matt hooks his thumbs into your jeans to pull them halfway down your legs.
He sighs. ‘What would you rather me talk about then?’
But you only pant in return, cautiously looking down towards your jeans that are slowly being peeled from your smooth thighs as Matt’s face finds itself extremely attracted to your open neck.
‘Ugh, I don’t know Matt? Just… anything other than Ryan’ you complain, mildly rolling your eyes. Before he can go in to kiss your flesh, Matt catches this and actually snorts a laugh in response, clearly finding your lack of care for your shitty boyfriend highly amusing.
‘Hey, don’t worry, as soon as I’m finished with you the only name you’ll be able to remember is mine…’. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze at this comment, but you can’t quite clamp them together fully because Matt’s hips are in the way. He notices the tension in both of your muscles and so decides to milk it further by leaning his face down closer to yours whilst whispering a gorgeous ‘yeah? You like that?’ that rolls from off of his tongue with ease.
‘Mhm hmm’ you hum in return, trying to keep your mouth closed so that you don’t whine into the air when responding. Matt is clearly happy at this, reaching down one of his hands to his own pants that are fitted nicely around his legs.
He then places his other hand flat on the bed right next to your hip before using it to hoist all of his body weight up so that the hand down by his pants could expertly undo his belt and slip it out from the belt loops.
It’s extremely attractive, to see him towering over you like this just to undo his belt, and you feel your clit throb behind your panties once again when he bites his lip in concentration to get the rest of his pants undone just by using a single hand.
‘I wanna taste you so bad, but we’re gonna have to be quick baby…’ he mumbles to you after both of your attentions are side tracked to the door, where loud voices can be heard as people walk down the corridor and bypass the room. Too many people know who both of you are at this party, so it is risky doing this in here anyway, considering the fact that there is absolutely no lock on the door.
Pushing down his pants, you nod once again to agree with him before gulping at the slivers of his tanned thighs that reveal themselves the further down his jeans drop.
‘How do you wanna have me?’ You speak up timidly, feeling an awful lot like a mouse in the presence of a lion, one wrong move from you and you’re toast. But you decide to play along with Matt, because he seems to like it when you play the clueless game with him.
‘Have you ever had someone’s thigh before princess?’
Matt seems to immediately know what he wants to do to you with how quickly he responds and seems even more delighted at your virginal response of ‘what the fuck does that mean?’.
‘Sweetheart… has Ryan taught you nothing?’ He coos softly, his patronising tone still there whilst he sneakily slips his hands into your panties to pull them down and have cool air hit your centre. He has to bite his lip at the sight of your gushing wetness.
‘Well not really… he’s always sort of wanted to be on top so I’ve just let him…’. At this response, Matt scoffs and shakes his head in disappointment.
‘God Ryan what the fuck are you doing man?’ He quickly mumbles under his breath as if Ryan is in the room with you two before he turns his attention back to your needy figure.
‘I want you to cum all over my thigh angel… think you can do that for me?’ He questions encouragingly, your panties now also half way down your legs and sitting just above your sagged jeans. Your heart flutters and your back arches up once again whilst you hesitate.
Now, the throbbing is turning into a stinging because you haven’t touched yourself at all since this whole encounter has started, so you decide to simply answer with a quick ‘yes Matt, I-I can do that’.
He praises you right after with a sultry ‘that’s my good girl’ before getting up from his position over you and instead sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you.
Sitting upwards a little, you help Matt grab onto you, and his hands practically swallow your sides whilst he stretches you out onto his lap. Moving a little further up onto the bed his cattish eyes gaze up into yours with his pupils dilated and his mouth a blushing red.
Getting you onto a singular thigh, your knees plant on either side of the mattress and sink down softly due to the weight of your upper body. Your sensitivity touches the lower part of his thigh when you press yourself onto him.
Hissing, you whimper slightly in open-mouthed pain whilst your hands claw onto the sleeves of his green-hoodied shoulders.
You look down at the dark haired skin of his powerful muscle, testing the waters of what he’s about to make you do before you hear a low and guttural ‘spit’ violently exhale from his mouth. Glancing back up at Matt you see that he has an expectant look laced within his eyes.
And it doesn’t matter how much your brain screams that this is all terribly wrong, because you still will you mouth to produce an acceptable amount of saliva before knocking your head downwards and letting it all slowly drip from your open mouth.
The thick globule splatters noisily against Matt’s thigh and now Matt finds himself continuously throbbing at the look you give him as the last remnants of your spit linger around your mouth in mid air like a small spider’s web tendril blowing in the wind.
At least, it’s like that until Matt reaches out one of his fingers to whip it away and lick it into his own mouth.
Your saliva glitters in the low lighting and is soon joined by Matt’s own spit after he gathers it into his mouth and also releases it onto his now already lubed up thigh.
‘Fuck angel you are going to love this…’ he muses cockily, grabbing both of your hips within his hands before groaning whilst he lifts you slightly to place your aching and bare centre onto the sticky consistency of your strings of saliva.
Gritting your teeth upon first impact, you have to close your eyes and try not to whimper at the strange sensation Matt’s thigh gifts to you whilst Matt himself looks up at you, proud of what he has made you feel thus far.
He knew you weren’t going to last long at all.
Your face gets very red and very flushed, very fast. As soon as Matt starts to use his hands in a similar way to how he had when you were both clothed, the pressure it brings to your core nearly makes you light headed. You feel so sensitive, and you can hear your spit being spread about his thigh as he tenses his muscle and then relaxes it to give you a perfect pleasure point when rubbing you over it.
You still have your eyes closed, but from the darkness of your vision, you can clearly hear Matt’s smooth voice cooing a gentle ‘open up those pretty little eyes for me…’.
You struggle to do this in between screwing up your face in pleasure, and knocking your head back automatically every time he decides to lift his thigh up a little into the grind so that you can feel it even harder when you ride him. But you slowly manage to peek both of your eyes open ever so slightly.
‘Fuck sake Matt what are you doing to me…’ you breathe out shakily down to him, both of your noses brushing from your position straight above him. After getting used to his motions, you also decide to help him out a little by engaging further and now using your own legs to hoist your harder and faster on his thigh.
‘I’m just doing what Ryan never could…’ he whispers back up to you in a snake-ish manner, knowing how good he’s fucking you and also knowing that it’ll never be the same with Ryan ever again after this. You’re just simply going to want more and more of Matt instead…
‘It would always make me so jealous whenever he put his hands all over you. I swear he did it on purpose just to tease me… and it killed me every time because I so desperately wanted to know what kind of face you’d make if it were my cock stretching you out…’
Whining to him in stimulation once again, your gut flutters and you have to bite your lip to suppress dizzy spells because of how perfectly he’s using his leg.
‘I love feeling you on me like this princess, you feel so fucking good…’ he breathes back up to you in response. ‘I won’t even have to jerk off later because you’re gonna make me cum in my pants’ he continues.
‘But… what about - fuck - giving you a taste?’ You moan into his lips after you start to messily make out with him once again, now both of your lower and upper body halves at work to help you reach your high.
Matt hums a groan in response to this, bucking his hips forward a little in excitement yet still keeping the quick rhythm of his thigh for you.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay, you can let my face have a turn next time’ he utters quickly and without worry, automatically assuming that there’s going to be a next time - which probably is accurate with the rate that this is going at. Yet, it’s still bold of him to assume.
However, most of your thinking is forgotten as you soon feel like you have bypassed a certain point within your build up stage that tells you that you are ready to cum, because it starts to burn in your gut and you feel like you seriously can’t keep quiet at all anymore with whimpers, whines and moans expelling from your mouth into Matt’s.
Uttering something completely inaudible to him, he seems to catch on that you’re close to finishing and so reaches one of his hands up the front of your top to play with one of your tits beneath your bra. This only enlarges the feeling whilst Matt praises you with showers of ‘you’re being such a good girl for me’ and ‘you’re doing so well angel… just a little more’.
The last remnants of his praise are eeked out of him before something within you snaps and a gushing waterfall of pleasure rolls all the way up your gut like some form of ricocheting explosion. You almost cry, and your eyes certainly dampen a little with tears as your mouth drops open.
From below you, Matt admires the sounds of ecstasy tumbling from your lips as you cum.
‘Shhh, shh- shhh, I know baby, I know…’
Whilst he helps you ride out your high, he hushes you gently like a baby, stroking your back and gazing up at you sympathetically, as if it wasn’t just him who had caused your body to react in this astronomically earth shattering way.
‘Jesus pretty, you’ve soaked my thigh…’ he remarks in absolute shock after you wobble your way off of your seat on his leg to crash tiredly next to him onto the bed. You smirk in exhaustion, before your squished lips mumble a ‘yeah well that’s all of what Ryan couldn’t give me, so savour it Matt…’ into the mattress. Matt also snorts, before cleaning up a little bit of your sticky cum and licking it from off of his finger right in front of you.
‘There… I did get to taste you in the end…’ he muses playfully, to which you hide your face into the blanket and groan at what you had just done.
The feeling of realisation after you’ve made a mistake is never a nice one, however, what is as equally concerning is the fact that you don’t seem to care as much as you thought you would have, which sends warning sirens off in your head once again.
You had just cheated on Ryan… but what’s even worse is that you had cheated on him with his so-called ‘best friend’, the same best friend who had coaxed you into cheating with him in the first place.
‘Ryan can’t know about this…’ you croak fearfully into the mattress whilst Matt stands up to put his pants back on properly again.
He spins around to you, his skinny, short figure accentuated in the light as he does his belt back up with a cheeky grin on his face. His hair is fluffy and tussled at the front from when you had carded your hands through it a couple of times whilst you had fucked.
His little chain with a small horse pendant on it also glitters with malice and cockiness at the state he had left you in, crumpled on top of the mattress. God, he’s going to love sneaking around behind Ryan’s back to fuck you, he always gets a free high from playing these kinds of games with people’s heartstrings.
‘Don’t worry… I don’t kiss and tell… plus, keeping it a secret is all part of the fun anyway…’
Author’s notes p.2: TW: Ryan… the only thing going through my head when writing this was the song ‘Homewrecker’ by Marina and the Diamonds lol, Matt is such a dick but I absolutely LOVE IT. Also guys I’ve literally reached the limit of the amount of people I can put on my taglist, so I’m going to have to tag the rest of u guys in the comment sections now sorryyyy hehe, shits crazy. Thank you so much, I’m always so eternally grateful for all of the love u give my writing, I love reading all of ur asks and messages, so please write more!! 🎀
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chris @orangeypepsi
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androdragynous · 5 months
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funny that the one song about the grinch is considered christmas music just because the story is about christmas. like here's a break from well wishes and gifts and cozy fireplaces to just spend like five minutes describing all of the ways this one dude is just fucking gross. just really ruminate on it. okay back to jingle bells
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loveshotzz · 1 year
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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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6K notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 19 days
Text
Thoughtful
Summary: You find something of Bucky's.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.
Word Count: 1.1K
A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!
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“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.
He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.
Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.
You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.
You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.
Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.
“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.
“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”
Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.
You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.
“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”
“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.
So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 
“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.
“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”
“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.
You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.
You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.
“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”
He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.
After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”
You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.
“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 
He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.
Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.
You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.
“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”
Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.
“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.
You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.
Part 2
887 notes · View notes
stayinlimbo · 3 days
Text
We Become We
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pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡
Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 
You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 
Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 
(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”
“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)
Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 
And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 
Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 
You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 
You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 
Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 
Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 
Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.
That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?
Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?
You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 
It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 
Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 
And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.
It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.
The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 
Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 
You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 
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