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

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coryosbaby · 1 year

Note

Stepbro!Ethan x reader where they go on a camping trip with their parents and fuck in the tent while their sleep

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), enemies to lovers, p n v, slight blood kink, choking, sort of public, rough sex, degradation, spanking, loss of virginity, corruption kink, big dick Ethan, spit kink, squirting, creampie, fingering, sub! Reader, dom! Ethan

You sigh as you lay down on your pink sleeping bag. It’s nighttime, the day of camping now making you exhausted. Plus, your feet hurt like a bitch.

And the worst thing: you have to share a tent with Ethan.

He sits beside you, one of his comic books in his hands as he holds a flashlight in the other. He’s annoying, never shutting the fuck up and is always so mean to you.

Not to mention that the awkwardness is so incredibly prominent right now.

“Can you turn that flashlight off, please?”

You say it with a bitchy tone. You’ve had a shit day, and you just want to be able to sleep, and you can’t do that unless it’s dark. He frowns, closing the paper book and throwing it in the empty corner on his side of the tent.

“Sorry.”

“You aren’t.”

He scoffs as he lays down, his own sleeping bag making a ruffling sound as his head hits his pillow. “Whatever.”

You sigh, happy that you can finally sleep. But it isn’t long before Ethan is squirming, trying to get comfortable. He turns over so many times that it makes your blood boil.

“Will you stop that?” You snap. He complies, but then he begins to speak.

“I’m in a hole over here, sis. Its fucking uncomfortable. Plus, im a restless sleeper-“

“Stop talking.”

“Bite me.”

“God, you are insufferable.” And then, a pause. “Just come over here.”

Ethan turns to you, and although you can hardly see, she knows he’s looking at your silhouette.

“What?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

He doesn’t say anything, just groans and maneuvers his body so he’s sliding into your sleeping bag. His hands come to rest on your hip, his body pressed firmly against you. You narrow your eyes.

“I didn’t mean that close, Ethan.”

“That’s just too bad. Because I’m not moving again.”

“Didn’t seem to have a problem moving earlier.” you grumble. He huffs.

“Just go to sleep.”

And so you try. But the more time wears on, Ethan’s warm lips against your neck and his chest up against your back makes your face feel like it’s on fire. You’re angered at your weakness for nerdy guys with nice hair. Even if they’re your stepbrother.

His hips begin to move. You don’t know if he means to; he’s makes a small sound in his throat and you feel his bulge against you.

“E-Ethan..”

You’re nervous, now. He moans.

“You feel so fuckin’ good.”

“What are you-“

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, for once? Huh?” He’s whiny, but that threatening tone is still there. Your panties are drenched at his movements, as he practically gets off on your ass. And then you can’t take it anymore.

Turning around, you’re quick to slam your lips against his. He complies immediately, large hands going down to grab your waist as you straddle his meaty thighs. Your breath is uneven, watching him below you. You grab his wrists and hold them above his head. He makes a noise of disapproval, his hips bucking up into you.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Your voice is teasing, but there’s a meanness to your tone. “You’re the one who can’t control yourself. Jesus Christ, I’m your stepsister. You’re such a goddamn pervert.”

And then he easily slips his wrists from your grip and brings a hand down to slap your left ass cheek. You gasp, his sudden movement surprising you. He does it again, on the other cheek, this time, and your mouth opens in shock.

“I’m not the one getting turned on by spanking,” He growls, grabbing your throat in his harsh grip. “Now why don’t you shut up and fuck me?”

You look at him with malice, poison lacing your words as you watch his beautiful brunnete curls stick to his angelic face.

“I fucking hate you.” Is all you say. You grab his hand from your throat and pull it off, instead wrapping your fingers around his throat all the same. His eyes roll back, the feeling of you cutting off his air supply making him buck his hips into your crotch. You breathe out a whine, and he begins to laugh with his tongue running over his sharp white canines.

“Says the one.. being a needy little bitch.” He breathes, watching your hips begin to move against his bulge in a circling rhythm. “Little pussy is practically soaking me.”

“Shut the fuck up!“ you hiss. He’s laughs again as you remove your hands from his throat. You take off your top to expose your tits to the warm air inside the tent. Ethan’s eyes widen. Only for a moment, as he tries to mask his surprise and awe. He squeezes your love handles in his warm palms.

“You might be a complete cunt,” he breathes, his face dropping it’s amused facade as he flicks one of your nipples. “But you’re so goddamn pretty.”

You don’t say thank you, or make a sound. He gropes you with an eagerness that has you moving your hands down his thighs. The intimacy almost consumes you, as you look down at him below you.

“Guess I could say the same about you, Landry.”

He grins, and you gasp as he turns your body over so you’re underneath him. He brings his mouth down to your tits, listens to the little breathy moans that spill out of you as he grazes his teeth over them. His shirt is the next article of clothing to be removed, and then soon, you’re both bare and pressed against each other. His girthy length rubs against your cunt, achy and swollen.

“Beg me to stick it in.”

“Fuck you, Ethan.”

He slaps your clit harshly, and it makes you cry out.

“Beg.” He growls. “Don’t make me tell you again, bitch.”

Your face flushes, your resolve finally breaking as you look up at him with through your lashes. Your swollen lips trap his cock against your silky cunt, making him throb and spill precum on your slit.

“Please fuck me, baby.” Your voice is whiny, as you move his hair out of his face to look into his bambi eyes. “Please fuck my pussy. Need it s’bad!”

“There’s a good girl..” he coos, as he slides into your awaiting heat. His eyes roll back as your walls grip him tightly. “God, you’re so tense. Loosen up, won’t you? Gonna break my damn cock.”

“I-I can’t,” you cry, as he reaches into you further. “I’ve- I’ve never..”

He groans, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead from the intense situation and the hot air, gasping, as he looks down at you.

“You’re a virgin? Oh my god..”

And he begins to fuck you with vigor, the thought of you never being touched making his whole body feel like it’s on fire. Slapping sounds fill the room and his hand comes down onto your mouth when you let out a particularly loud moan of pleasure. The stretch of him is intense, leaves a deep burn on your inner walls, but you can’t help but drip with need.

“Be quiet.” Ethan demands. “God, are you trying to wake mom and dad up?”

Your eyes widen at the remembrance of your parents in the next tent over, and you squirm. He smiles at your reaction.

“Do you like that, angel? Like the thought of mommy and daddy catching you being my little cockslut?” You clench around him, your eyes fluttering shut as you mewl. Ethan grins. “Oh, fuck yeah you do.”

Your cunt creates a creamy ring around him. He grabs your throat again and spits harshly on your face. You cry, the warm feeling of it beginning to slide down your chin. Your tongue lolls out to lick up the remnants around your lips.

“Yeah, lick that shit up. Dirty whore.”

His degrading shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should, but it does.

And then, his cock is leaving you. You sob when he pulls out of you suddenly, but he’s quick to cover your mouth and shush you.

“Turn around. On your hands and knees.”

You obey, not a single rational thought left in you when he impales you on his delicious cock again. He grazes your g spot perfectly, his hands wrapping themselves in your hair as he bends you practically in half to accommodate him. He pounds you at an unnatural pace, his lips placing a light kiss on your shoulder blade. It’s completely different from how he’s using you right now. He looks down and groans at the sight of your virgin blood coating the base of him.

“You’re bleeding on me, sweet girl,” he coos. “I’m popping this cherry so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes! ” you sob, hips bucking back against his. “Let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease-“

“Fuck!” Ethan can’t take it anymore, his orgasm drawing closer, and he reaches down to rub your clit in fast circles. “Cum for me, baby.”

You don’t understand how he can do it so easily, can just command you and make you cum with one singular sentence, but he does. You gasp, your orgasm washing over you and your juices squirting all over his cock and balls along with the rest of the blankets below you. Ethan makes a whiny sound, watching you squirt all over him, and his hands grab your jaw and force you to look at his face. His pretty doe eyes look at you with lust, and his mouth falls open as he fills you up. The sound he makes is animalistic, his cock squirting warm ropes against your cervix.

When he slows, he pulls out of you and rests his hand on your back. He watches as his spend trails down your shaking thighs, and he smacks your ass teasingly. You yelp, his fingers going down to stuff his seed back inside you as he chuckles.

“Didn’t know my little stepsister was such a good lay.”

#Ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem! reader #stepbrother! Ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #stepbrother! Ethan landry #dom! Ethan landry #sub! reader #scream 6 #scream #scream iv

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dira333 · 3 months

Text

Sleepwalker - Tensei Iida x Reader

Words: 10k (sorry, my hand slipped)

It’s warm, dark and there’s a faint smell of grapefruit and Mint, a combination that should not work as well as it does.

You groan, close your eyes again, and bury yourself in the blankets once more, not yet ready to start the day. What a weird dream you’ve ha-

There’s an arm. There’s an arm next to your arm!

Your heart stops and picks up with twice the speed as you slowly, carefully, pat around to feel what’s attached to said arm

A shoulder, naked. There’s a neck and a chest, muscular and sturdy.

When your fingertips find what feels like a mouth you hear a grunt. The light flickers on and you blink, staring in silent shock at what is most likely the most attractive guy you’ve seen in weeks, if not longer.

His dark hair is sleep-mussed and his blue eyes squint back at you with an equal mix of confusion and shock.

“Who are you?” He asks just as you realize that you did not, in fact, go drinking last night. Which means-

“You’re a creep!” You bellow, jumping out of bed. You put a tank top and matching panties on last night and you’re glad you did because this way you’re at least wearing a little bit more than he is.

“Wait, I’m not-”

“Did you do something to me?” You look down at yourself to check, but you don’t feel weird, just exhausted. He’s stuttering out something but you’re too busy freaking out.

“I should call the- the police, I- who are you anyway and-” your eyes flicker to the alarm clock next to his bed. Shit. You’re going to be late for work.

“If this happens again I’ll kill you in your sleep!” You threaten, focus on the pattern of your own bedding, and teleport away, using your Quirk. It’s not legal, but you’re in no way going to wait for a cab at this creep’s place.

This time you half expect it, which sounds weirder than it is.

But as you wake up and smell that telltale aroma of grapefruit and Mint, you know exactly where you are.

You turn slowly to check the time. It’s around midnight.

You went to bed fully clothed, phone in your back pocket. The stranger seems to have had the same idea, the fabric of his shirt soft against your fingertips

He wakes up as you slip out of bed, waving your phone to start the flashlight app. So much for snooping around to get intel on him.

“Who are you?” He asks, which is totally the wrong question if you’re a creep who kidnaps people.

“I should ask you the same thing. And you should answer first since this is your place.”

“My name’s Iida. Iida Tensei, to be exact.” He rubs his face. “And I didn’t take you here. I went to bed like normal and woke up with you beside me.”

“Oh. Well, I mean. It hasn’t happened in a while, but it could-”

“Your Quirk?” He asks, making sense of your stuttering before you can. “It’s teleporting, right? Does it malfunction sometimes?”

“Well, it used to, as a kid.” You explain, shame flooding you, “I can only teleport to places I know because I have to see them in my mind. But I don’t know you, right?”

“Maybe I saved you?” He offers. You scrunch up your nose.

“I am- I was a hero. Ingenium? Maybe you heard of him?”

“Oh,” you nod slowly before shaking your head, “well, I’ve heard of heroes, because who hasn’t, but not of Ingenium, sorry. Never had to be saved either.”

“Sorry.”

You laugh, short and abrupt, but in all honesty. “Why? I don’t think getting saved is such a nice thing, right? It means you were in danger before.”

“Oh, but it’s an experience for sure. I mean… When I was a kid, I was-” He stops and you’re not sure why you do it, maybe it’s the softness of his features or the sound of his voice, but you urge him to speak.

“I got lost, once, as a kid. I still remember how helpless I felt and how a hero saved me, and took me back to my parents. I haven’t seen him around since, but I still remember his name. Gran Torino. I knew before… that I was going to be a hero, but that cemented it as something I really wanted to be.”

“Wow,” you breathe, a little awkward in the face of something like that. “I just became a mechanic because my Dad’s one too.”

He laughs, but he doesn’t invite you to speak and you realize that you’ve overstayed your welcome anyway. Not that there was ever any welcome to begin with. You stumbled in here on your own, bothering this nice, attractive man.

“I’m… I’m going to get going now,” you stutter, “and I promise it won’t happen again.”

He doesn’t move to get up. Maybe he only put on a shirt but not shorts?

You try not to think about it when you teleport away.

Nothing happens for over a week, long enough that you begin to think of it as an outlier, brought upon you by the return of your period.

Now that that’s over you only have to get checked out for future disasters.

But then you open your eyes to darkness and the smell of Grapefruit and Mint and you know, without a doubt, that you’re back.

“Iida-kun?” You ask, voice soft with shame.

You reach out your hand and touch his face, surprised to find a slight stubble. But it gets his attention and only a second later you blink against the light.

It’s gone just a second later and as a blanket is thrown over your head you remember that you went to sleep wearing nothing tonight. In your defense, the AC was broken.

“I’m so so sorry,” you point out, voice shaking, “I don’t know… I thought it was my period.”

“It’s okay,” he huffs. You wonder if he’s blushing.

“I’m leaving, okay,” you tell him, embarrassment flooding you. “Sorry.”

Half an hour later you find yourself pressed into his side once again, though this time better dressed. He’s not, however.

You teleport away once again, this time without waking him.

But as you open your eyes to the morning sun filtering in through the half-open blinds, there’s an arm slung over your shoulders and a warm, naked chest pressed to your back.

You’re back. Again.

It’s Sunday and you don’t have to be gone right away, so that’s your excuse for letting your eyes wander through the room.

His bedroom is clean and organized, with books and sports equipment in every corner.

And there are pictures, tons of them.

Right next to the alarm clock is a picture of a little boy. He looks just like Iida-kun and with a pang, you realize it must be his son. What lies on the other side of his bedroom door? How many children does he have?

This bed is barely wide enough to house two people, so you don’t think he’s married, but-

A pained groan interrupts your thoughts.

Before you can react, though, Iida pulls you closer, his arms now crossed over your stomach.

He’s mumbling something, his voice laced with pain.

“No, don’t, please-” he begs, “help, someone- Help!”

That’s when you feel it, the telltale signs of your Quirk activating. But you’re not teleporting anywhere, not that you could after doing it so much this night already. And you’re not the one who activated it.

For a second you’re floating, disappearing slowly into thin air. That’s not unusual, it happens mostly when the space you want to go is already occupied or too far away.

But when you materialize again, you’re back where you started, right in Iida’s arms.

That’s when it hits you.

You didn’t teleport to him. He teleported you.

But how? And how are you going to explain that to him?

If Iida is weirded out by the fact that you’re a) back in his arms again and b) not making any move to get away from him, he’s not showing it.

Instead he wipes a hand over his face and plants himself back into the pillows.

“I think I need a coffee,” he tells you after a minute.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say no to that either.”

“Would it be terribly rude to ask you to make it?” He lifts his head again to squint at you. “Or help me out of bed?”

“Help you out of bed? What are you, eighty?”

He smiles shyly. “No, I’m paraplegic.”

Blood rushes to your face as you realize what that means.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t know.” A hand rests warmly on your forearm. “But the choice is yours.”

You huff for a second, trying to reel in the shame before getting out of bed and walking around it. There’s the wheelchair you should have noticed earlier.

“What do you do if you need to pee?” You ask as he leans heavily onto you before swinging himself into the chair.

“Hold it in,” he tells you with an embarrassed smile. “But I’m working on getting into it myself.”

Your nerves bubble in your throat as you approach the door only to release in a soft sigh when no little kid is waiting on the other side.

“Your… uh… son doesn’t live here?” You ask as you follow him into the kitchen, too aware of your messy bedhead and your sleepwear-clad form.

“My son?” Iida turns to squint at you. “I don’t have a son.”

“The picture on your nightstand. I noticed it.”

“Oh,” he laughs softly, “that’s my little brother. We’re fifteen years apart, but I should really get a new picture in there. But he looked so cute back then. Not that he’s not looking cute now, I-”

“I get it,” you nod, “I still have a picture of my cousin in my wallet from when she lost half of her teeth.”

“Quirk coming in?” He asks and you snort. “Yes, actually.”

“How am I calling you here?” Tensei asks. He offered you his first name over that first cup of coffee, called his mother to let her know he wouldn’t need help this morning while you fried eggs for breakfast.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “that never happened to me before.”

“But you knew it was possible?”

“Actually,” you breathe loudly through your nose, “I only realized that it had to be that because I was in the middle of teleporting this morning when I was already here only to land back where I was. It’s like reloading a page, you know? You just get back to where you were.”

“But we don’t know each other,” Tensei points out, “or do we? What school did you go to?”

You name it, all of them. Nothing seems to ring a bell.

“When you…” you hesitate but he urges you to go on, “When you reloaded me, so to say, you were… you were calling for help.”

Tensei pales, his lips stretching into a straight line.

“You don’t have to tell me what that was about,” you add on quickly, “I just thought… maybe us teleporter Quirks are like a helpline? And I was just the closest one?”

“You think so?” He asks, voice strained.

You shrug. “What other possibility is there?”

But there is one. One you don’t even want to think about.

What if the Universe with its laughable humor, decided you were right for each other?

No, that would be too crazy.

Just because you know why it happens doesn’t mean, however, that you know how to stop it. And as you start waking up in his bed more often than not, it seems only logical to go with it.

“Morning,” you mumble, knowing where you are without having to open your eyes. The telltale aroma of Grapefruit and Mint gives it away.

“Morning,” Tensei yawns, unmoving.

You can feel yourself slipping back into sleep, the warmth of him, the softness of the bed pulling you back in. Five more minutes won’t hurt.

“What did we say?” You ask groggily, face planted against Tensei’s chest. “You gotta wear a shirt to bed.”

“Sorry,” he rumbles but doesn’t move. “What time is it?”

“Too early.” You close your eyes again. He doesn’t move either.

“Shit, I’m late for work.” Your jump out of bed is thwarted by the blanket around your legs and you fall unceremoniously onto your face.

“I’ve got a spare toothbrush if you want it,” Tensei offers.

“I have no clothes.”

“Bring them next time,” he smiles, grabbing the hand you’re offering and pulling you up.

He blushes seconds later when he realizes how that sounded.

“I mean, only if you want.”

“Sure,” you agree easily because he really is good-looking, “if you make the coffee in the morning?”

“Brother, I wanted to check in before schoo-”

You make the mistake of shooting up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

The guy in the door looks like Tensei’s Doppelganger, mouth wide open as he takes you in.

You wrap your arms around your torso, realizing a little late that your skimpy tank top might be a bit too revealing for a- how old is Tensei’s little brother again?

“Tenya,” Tensei starts blubbering that second, “You’re… I didn’t expect you this early- I’m…”

“This is my cue to leave,” you mutter, but stop when Tensei’s arm presses you back into the pillows.

“Stay,” he breathes out, eyes flickering over your face before he turns back.

“Sit,” he asks his brother, “we can explain.”

In all honesty, you don’t really know why you stay.

It’s not like Tensei could do anything about you leaving, really. He has no idea where you live, doesn’t even have your number saved or something like that. And he still has no idea how to activate your Quirk on command…

But you stay, blanket pulled up to your chin to spare the youngest Iida’s innocence.

He’s fun to watch, little Tenya, taller than you without trying, yet turning smaller and smaller in his older brother’s presence.

It’s not hard to guess that Tensei’s his hero.

Tensei’s voice is calm and collected as he explains. You don’t even try to help him sort through this mess, instead letting your eyes wander over his features. He’s not wearing a shirt and his back, turned to you, is covered in scars, like a spider web of history.

Your hand itches to smooth across it, letting the warmth of his skin seep into your fingertips.

He’s got a few Moles too, sprinkled across his milky white shoulder blades like freckles over sun kissed cheeks.

“Are you even listening?” Tensei turns his head and you blink a few times to focus.

“Sure,” you lie effortlessly, not missing how his lips quirk into a smile.

His eyes are warm as they move over your face and you have to force yourself not to hide away. You’ve never seen a face this attractive turn so soft before, at least not when looking at you.

“I’m… I’m leaving then,” Tenya adds, voice a little strained. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure,” you nod, just as Tensei asks him not to rush.

It’s weird. You want to leave and you want to stay longer, want to keep this bubble around the two of you, yet go out and scream from the rooftops that this man might feel things for you.

Work calls, though, and even though you stay as long as you can - helping him out of bed and into the shower, making coffee while he gets ready, thinking about kissing him while he sits on the other side of the table, talking about his plans for the day - you have to leave eventually.

You hug him awkwardly, trying not to sink into his hold even though you want nothing more.

“See you next time,” you say with a wink, expecting to be back in the evening.

But Tensei does not call for you.

One week passes without finding yourself in his bed.

You have no means to contact him other than teleporting into his apartment and you don’t dare to do just that. What if he’s having guests over?

What if- and the thought is making you nauseous - you end up teleporting into his bedroom only to find him making out with someone else?

Wait. The thought of someone else implies that he made out with you too. He didn’t and it’s not like you can blame him for that, right?

Looking down at your hands, the skin oil-stained and chapped, you can’t help but feel unworthy of him. Former Heroes do not mingle with basic mechanics.

You go out drinking the second week, trying to drown your sorrows in cheap beer and awful music.

“What about him?” Rumi, your best friend points toward a guy in the corner, red wings folded behind his back. He’s attractive, but there’s also something unsettling about him, the way he seems to be watching everyone without a care in the world.

“No,” you shake your head. You don’t feel like erasing the memory of Tensei’s touch - as platonic as it had been - from your skin by being with someone else. And even if you did, you wouldn’t pick someone who’s definitely way above your league.

“Oh, come on.” She takes a shot and winks. “I’m going to talk to him if you don’t.”

“Suit yourself,” you say when you notice someone else.

His hair is jet black, reflecting the bright lights overhead that flicker over his heavily scarred skin. His eyes, a bright turquoise, move over the people with cold carelessness. Something drops in your stomach when his gaze crosses yours.

You grab Rumi’s arm. “We need to leave,” you tell her, and there must be something in your voice that cuts through her haze, because she nods, following you toward the door.

Shivers are running up and down your back as you wait for a Cab, chatting up a few girls who are waiting by the door, convincing them to join you and your friend.

“Oh shit,” Rumi says, moving to get out of the car, “I forgot my jacket inside.”

“I’m getting it,” you tell her, pushing her back, “I’ll see you there, okay?”

She hesitates, but you’re already out of the car, closing the door with a click.

Inside, the mood has shifted, though not many seem to have noticed, too far gone already in their haste to get drunk.

Sweat’s running down your back as you move through the crowd, looking for the flimsy black jacket.

You smell it just as you reach it. Fire. Something’s burning.

It’s hard to tell from back here and even getting up on a barstool barely helps. That is, until you turn, spotting the guy with the turquoise eyes behind the bar. His hands are filled with flames and his eyes burn the same.

He notices you at the same time, lips curling into a cruel smirk. Not far from him is the fire alarm and you lunge forward to pull it. Something collides with your shoulder, pain curling around it.

You scream just as the alarm goes off, cutting the music like one does a ribbon. The sprinklers go off immediately, but you’re already halfway gone, panic setting off your Quirk.

You have half a mind to think “Somewhere safe” before the room disappears before your eyes.

Grapefruit and Mint.

It cuts through your panic like sunlight through a rain cloud.

“Tensei?” You rasp, trying to make sense of it. “Tensei?!”

The light comes on and you find yourself sitting on the bedroom floor, hair damp, jacket clutched in your hands.

“Are you okay?” He asks, before sucking in a breath. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“I think- I think I just got attacked.”

“Let me see. Can you get up? What happened?”

You dissolve into tears under his gentle care.

Tensei thinks you should talk to the police.

You think everything else would be a better idea.

“I’m not supposed to use my quirk,” you tell him, again and again, as he pours you a cup of chamomile tea in the morning. “What if they fine me? What if- what if they take it away?”

“They’re not going to take away your Quirk just because it activated by itself. You might get a slap on the hand for using it too much if they knew, but you’re not hurting anyone with it, are you?”

“Can you check the news?” You change the topic, unease swirling in your stomach. “See if there’s something about the bar?”

He dutifully picks up his phone, giving you a second to take him in.

His sight eases your mind. He looks just like he did two weeks ago like he always looks in the morning. Soft and warm and reassuring, like all you need to do is climb into his lap and forget the world.

You want to ask if he missed you, but you don’t dare to.

“Nothing,” he says, putting his phone down. “Would you- would you feel better if I accompanied you to the police?”

“How would we explain that we know each other?”

He blushes. “We could… we could say that we’re… friends?”

The unease in your stomach is getting harder to ignore. Or maybe you’re hungover as well.

“Why didn’t you call for me… uh, the last few weeks? Are you getting over your nightmares?”

Tensei huffs out a tired laugh. “I’m taking sleeping pills. I’m not a fan of them, but they seem to be working. I thought… maybe you left before I woke up or something.”

“No, I thought…” You swallow nervously, looking down at the table before shrugging as if you don’t feel as much as you do. “Maybe you found someone else you could teleport into your bedroom.”

You realize how it sounds just as you say it, but it’s too late to take it back.

His hand moves to cover yours, a warm weight that seems to settle your nerves with the smallest touch. “I’m barely managing to figure out how I got you, I’m not switching things up.”

For a while, you two sit in silence, unmoving.

Eventually though, Tensei speaks again.

“If you let me, I’d like to accompany you to the police, okay?”

You’ve only been to the police once before when a car you had been working on turned out to be stolen. Everything, from explaining how you noticed to how you got that client in the first place, had been a terrible, terrible experience.

But walking in with Tensei is like stepping into a different world..

One officer, a mutant with a cat face, comes up to you almost immediately, shaking Tensei’s hand with a smile.

“What brings you here, man? Long time no see.”

“I’m- my friend here,” Tensei points to you, “got attacked in a bar yesterday. Nothing in the news suggests that you know about it, so we wanted to inform you right away.”

“An attack?” Green eyes flicker to you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter just as Tensei disagrees. “First-degree burn on her shoulder. I did the best I could last night when she came by, but I’m no doctor.”

“I’ll call someone to check in on you. Come in, come in. Do you want coffee? Donuts?”

It clicks by the third person who walks in. They all assume that you’re not just Tensei’s friend, but his girlfriend.

It’s in the way they smile at you, unassuming, chuckling when you name your profession.

“Fits like a glove, doesn’t it?” They say, preening when the words light up a feverish blush on

Tensei’s cheeks.

He holds your hand when a nurse examines your shoulder and you wish that this was real, that you’ll step out of this building and continue just like this.

But living in his world for a day, where police officers joke around with you and doors open that you didn’t even know existed, just highlights how far apart your lives truly are.

As it turns out, you seem to have met Dabi, a villain who’s rather new to the scene. You can tell, just by the looks exchanged and awkward silences filling the room, that he’s someone you don’t want to mess with.

“It would probably be better if you didn’t go home for a while,” Detective Tsukauchi announces. “If this is a bar you frequent regularly, it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out where you live.”

“My friend-” You start just as Tensei says “You can stay with me.”

You tense, just as Detective Tsukauchi smiles and nods.

“An excellent idea. We can escort you home if you need to pack some things first.”

“Oh, no-” You shake your head and wave your hands at the same time. “Getting escorted by the police to my place would just open the door to more trouble. If you could… like… give me a proper written excuse so that I can use my quirk, I can do that in one trip.”

“I’m afraid that I-”

“Tsukauchi, Sir-” Tensei lays it on thick with the charm, “I think in a situation like this you could make an exception, right? Don’t you have Officer Moroi on your team as well? You could still consider it an official escort if she did the teleporting.”

And so, half an hour later, it’s decided.

Officer Moroi’s Quirk is almost the same as yours, although she needs exact coordinates and is able to teleport other people - and stuff - as well.

Saying goodbye to Tensei is an awkward affair. Detective Tsukauchi is going to take him back to his apartment while you pack your things.

You move in for a hug, a handshake too formal for what everyone assumes you are. Tensei moves as well, but you misjudge his intention as wanting to hug you as well. His lips end up on yours for the briefest moment before you pull back, his face as red as-

“Oh,” you cough awkwardly, turning around. “Detective, I… I just remembered. There was another guy at the bar, with wings, he was looking-”

Tsukauchi doesn’t even blink. “No worries. We’re aware of him.”

“You-” Tensei’s hand curls around yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“Stay safe, okay?” He asks, face still flushed. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll take the Couch,” you offer in the evening, your things awkwardly merged with his. Your clothes stuffed into his drawers, your toothbrush sitting in the same cup.

Tensei made dinner, told you stories from his past, and checked your injury, warm hands seemingly everywhere at once.

“Are you sure?” He asks, rolling through the living room. “There’s more than enough space in my bed and we’re kinda used to sharing it, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, but that was then-” You trail off, not really sure where you’re going with this.

His features stay relaxed as he nods, moving toward his bedroom.

“Do you want some help-”

“I got it,” he sends you a smile you can’t help but question. “I told you I’m getting better at it.”

So you’ve got nothing to do but slip under the covers and stare at the ceiling, trying to blend out the thrumming of pain in your shoulder.

You can hear him breathing, even from this far away, and it calms and upsets you at the same time.

He’s here. But he’s so far away.

Quietly, he calls your name.

You consider ignoring it for a second, pushing him a little further away. For your safety or his, you’re not sure.

Still, your voice slips out anyway.

“Yes?”

“Are you scared?”

“Of what?” You ask, surprised.

“Being in a relationship.”

You swallow harshly. Has it been this obvious?

“I am, you know,” he admits, “and I was wondering… if you feel the same.”

You blink up at the ceiling, your mind racing ahead. Whatever you do now, it can make or break… whatever this is, between the two of you.

“You know,” you answer, slipping out of bed, “I have called myself a lot of things. I have been called a lot of things, too. But I don’t think I’ve ever believed that I was scared of something.”

You stop in the doorway to his room, your eyes getting used to the darkness. He’s facing you.

“So you’re not scared?” He asks, voice thick.

“Oh no, I’m scared shitless,” you admit, walking the short distance until your knees hit the bed frame, “but that has never stopped me from doing something. What about you? Doesn’t being a hero mean something similar?”

He’s warm as you slip under the covers, your whole body sucking up that familiar aroma of Grapefruit and Mint, your head almost falling into place against his shoulder.

��It’s a different kind of fear, I guess? You can train how to be a hero, from fighting Villains to rescue missions. You can’t train being in love.”

“Mhm, some people definitely try,” you joke, your hands unable to rest, moving across his chest until you can feel his heartbeat pick up beneath your fingertips.

“Tensei?” You ask, basking in his warmth. “Have you been in a relationship before?”

“No,” he admits, one hand a soft pressure on your lower back. “I dated around a little after school, but I was so busy building up the business, spending time with Tenya, I just…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You think you’ve got all the time in the world and then you’re thirty, everyone else has already had kids and you wonder where you went wrong.”

“Would you-” He stops, but his heart races, you can feel it.

“Yeah?”

“Would you go on a date with me?”

“Usually,” you tease, because his voice quivered in a way that doesn’t fit his sturdy frame, “I don’t ‘sleep’ with guys before a first date. You kinda messed with my rules here.”

“Sorry,” he rasps, trying to play along.

“It’s fine,” you move a little, pressing your lips against his cheek. “You did wine and dine me today, after all.”

You could get used to this.

Tensei’s still asleep, mouth half-open, face mushed against the pillow. You can’t stop your curious hands from traveling, rubbing soft circles into his warm skin, following the spiderweb trails of his scars, pressing a teasing kiss to one of his moles.

He groans softly, hands twitching by his side.

“What time is it?”

“Time to relax,” you tease, pulling one of his arms around you. He snorts.

“I would, but I really have to pee.”

“Oh, what a shame,” you move to sit up, untangling him from the blanket. “But we can slip back into bed after if you want. Although I am craving breakfast.”

Tensei blinks up at you but doesn’t speak. You blame it on him not being a morning person and help him into the bathroom, before moving toward the kitchen, prepping a quick breakfast.

He’s already back in bed when you step into the bedroom.

Sleeping with, or rather, next to Tensei, has taught you a few things about him so far. He runs hot, he likes to spoon, and he makes the softest little kitten snores when he’s sleeping on his back.

But living with him, just for a day or two, shows you so much more.

He pretends to be a morning person, but it takes a while for his brain to kick in. The smell of him, Grapefruit and Mint, comes partly from his Quirk, the engine jets in his arms being powered by Grapefruit juice, and partly from his absolute obsession with everything Mint scented. Bodywash, Shampoo, Deodorant, he even has Mint scented Candles sitting all over his apartment.

Tensei obviously works out a lot and hasn’t stopped after retiring from being a Pro Hero, the dumbbells in the corner showcasing not a single speck of dust, but he has no trouble lounging on the Couch with you, asking about the book you’re currently reading, or bothering you with the most insane questions about the show you offer to watch.

He’s a family man, too, and you suspect that there is only one reason you’re not absolutely plagued by visiting family members right now.

“Did you tell your parents not to show up?” You ask as you pull on your shoes. Tensei had asked to go out for a little stroll and since the weather was playing along, you had no choice but to agree.

“Uh, yeah, how did you know?”

“I’m a woman, I can tell.”

He sends you a look and you falter. “Okay, fine, there’s a Calendar by the door that has everyone’s name on it. Your parents would have come by today.”

“Oh that,” he nods, face clouding, “I’m trying to become more self-reliant. I know everyone’s just trying to help, but-”

“It’s stifling,” you finish his sentence and he nods, smiling a little.

“You get it?”

“Oh yeah, my Dad is the worst when it comes to this. It doesn’t help that we live in a district that has quite a high crime rate. I’m not dumb, but he’d like to see me somewhere safe.”

“As every parent would, probably. Where do you live?”

“Why, do you wanna know if you went on patrol there?”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t, I would have noticed you.”

There’s a teasing tone to it, letting you know that he’s flirting. He’s not bad at it and since you’ve been doing nothing but cuddling all day, you dare to lean down and kiss him.

If Rapunzel was a man, he would look like the guy following you.

He’s dressed as a civilian, his long, blonde hair tied into the prettiest messy bun you’ve ever seen. And the size of it…

Tensei recognized him yesterday at the park. Apparently the Police are really concerned with your safety, sending him over to keep an eye on you.

“He’s nice,” Tensei had declared. “You don’t have to worry about him. His Hero Name is Present Mic, you might know-”

“No,” you shook your head, “Never heard of him.”

“Any Hero that you do know?”

“Well, All Might, of course,” you smiled. “But my favorite Hero is Laundry Hero: Wash.”

Tensei laughs. “I could never have guessed that. Sounds like a story I would like to hear.”

Your phone alarm pulls you out of the memory and you turn it off, blinking yourself a little more awake in anticipation of your stop.

Tensei doesn’t live that far away, but you still need to take three different trains to get to work, now that you can’t just teleport into your apartment and walk the short distance from there.

Goldilocks, err, Rapunzel, follows you out, whistling a tune. You don’t know how he does it, but he manages to fit in with the crowd of blue-collar workers.

“So you got yourself a boyfriend?” Rumi, best friend and also best car-saleswoman you know, is eating her lunch across from you. “Without telling me?”

“It’s not like that,” you argue, well aware of the tall man dressed in jeans that must be Rapunzel’s replacement for the day. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“I know complicated, but that sounds like a whole ‘nother level,” she takes a sip of her diet soda and pins you down with a glare. “If you’re staying over at his place already it’s a big deal.”

“Yeah,” you fiddle with your utensils, “I know, he’s just… he’s so safe, you know?”

“Safe?” Rumi furrows her brows. “Explain.”

“Like, he’s so… funny. And warm. And caring. Last night we were fighting about who gets to cook Dinner, and- What?” You cut yourself off when you notice her wry smile.

“Oh, you’re so far gone, it’s hilarious.” She chuckles into her drink. “Bring him in some time, will you?”

“We’ll see,” you put your stuff away, “My dad would most definitely love him, for sure.”

Your phone rings at that moment and you pick up, heart hammering in your throat at the sight of Tensei’s name on the display.

“Yes?”

“Hey,” you can hear the smile in his voice. “How’s your lunch break? I’m in the store right now and wanted to ask what you want for Dinner tonight.”

“I thought I was going to make Pizza?”

He laughs softly. “Fine, you can make Pizza tonight. Do you want ice cream for dessert?”

“Oh, yes, please. Mint-Chocolate Chip, if possible.”

“Mhm, no, not possible, that box is already reserved for me.”

“Well, you gotta learn how to share one day.”

Rumi’s grinning like a madman when you finally put your phone away.

“What?” You ask, fighting against the warmth bubbling in your chest, the smile that’s threatening to overtake your face.

“Nothing,” she giggles, “nothing at all.”

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” You ask as Tensei finishes changing the bandage on your shoulder.

He huffs with amusement, the sound cut off by the closing of the door.

“Tenya?” Tensei asks, a tone in his voice that can only be worried. You turn.

Tenya’s face is bruised, dark blue hair full of grime.

“Nii-chan?” His eyes flicker over to you, face closing off the hurt and exhaustion he’d shown seconds before.

“I should leave-” you start, realizing half way that you have nowhere to go. Tensei’s hands are still warm on your shoulder and even though he’s pulling away, his hold on you stays, his eyes flickering between you and his brother.

If he has to decide between the two of you, you’d rather have him pick Tenya.

“Are you hungry?” You ask, getting up. “I’ll make you something to eat, give you boys some privacy.”

Tensei’s apartment is bigger than yours by a mile but not huge.

You can hear them talking, the tone of their voices heavy.

At one point you think you can hear one of them crying, the sound squeezing your heart like one does a lemon. Should you check on them? What if it’s Tensei crying?

The food getting ready decides for you. No one likes burnt Pizza.

“Coming in,” you announce your arrival softly, feeling relieved and a little guilty when you realize Tenya had been the one crying.

“Hey, big guy,” you place the dish in front of him, “hope you like this. If you want, I can disappear again, the choice is yours.”

“I’m fine,” he wipes his eyes on his sleeve, leaving a smear of dirt across his nose before he puts his glasses back on. “You can- You can stay. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s fine. Tensei was your brother first. And I’m warning you, if you let me stay, I’m going to ask you all sorts of questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Well, for starters, I definitely need to know your favorite flavor. Because your big brother here is obsessed with everything Mint flavored and I need to know if it runs in the family.”

“I do like Mint,” Tenya offers, cutting off a first slice of Pizza.

You know very well that this is just a means of distraction, that talking about what’s bothering him would be a lot better, but still… you need to start somewhere, right?

Tensei’s hand squeezes yours under the table as Tenya rambles on about different flavors he cannot choose between.

“He asked if he could sleep over,” Tensei explains as soon as Tenya disappears into the bathroom. He sighs. “When I-” He stops, gestures to himself, the wheelchair. “When this happened, it hit him hard. I was in a coma for quite some time and he’s never been without me, really. We were always very close. I know that everything changed, but there’s something to him now… something that wasn’t there before. It’s like something turned dark inside him.”

“That does happen sometimes,” you agree. “When you realize too early on that life’s not fair. That people are more vulnerable than you thought they were.”

Tensei takes a shuddering breath and your hands rush to hold him, console him in any way you can.

“Do you want to share the bed with him?” You ask, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. You’re not usually this touchy with guys you’re interested in, but you usually don’t feel this safe around guys you’re interested in. You’re starting to act all weird and mushy around him and it’s a little unsettling sometimes.

Tensei laughs. “I don’t think we’d fit. But we could keep the door open.”

“I think it would be good for him if you could admit that you’re still having nightmares.” The words slip out before you’ve really thought about them, but you don’t want to take them back. “Not that you have to do it right away,” you ease the sting of them, “but it can help, sometimes, to know that the strongest people are also afraid of something.”

“Maybe,” he offers, and you leave it at that.

Toshi nudges your feet, walking by. You roll out from under the car to check what’s going on, surprised to see Tensei in all his glory.

He sits tall in his wheelchair and the shirt he’s wearing is one of your favorites, bringing out the blue in his eyes.

“Hey,” you greet him, a little self-conscious about your dirty overalls. “What brings you here?”

“I had an appointment not far from here and thought I could check in on you. When’s your lunch break?”

You squint up at the clock in the corner. “Half an hour.”

“I can wait, if that’s okay with you. Is that alright? I can leave too, if you don’t want company.”

You don’t want company, but you want his company.

“Stay, please,” you say, swallowing the weird feelings that are swirling in your chest. “You can share a cup of coffee with Rumi in the office, if you want. You know how to get there?”

He nods, smiling as he turns his wheelchair and rolls out of the garage.

You can feel all eyes on you, but you’ve never felt less like discussing your personal life with anyone, so you roll back under the car. There, at least, you can ponder why him showing up has made you this nervous.

Tensei knows you’re a mechanic. And he’s obviously not bothered by the fact that this isn’t some fancy-schmancy auto repairs shop. So if he doesn’t think bad of you, why do you do it?

Tensei’s laughing with Rumi and your Dad, of all people, when you walk into the office. You tried your best at cleaning up, but you still feel dirty in comparison to Tensei’s perfectly ironed clothes.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, leaning into your father’s hug. His overalls look worse than yours.

“Rumi called and asked me to come check out one car. She suspects some foul-play.”

“Ah.” You shoot her a glare, but she smirks, playing innocent.

“And how lucky I came in right away,” Dad adds, “so I could get to know this guy. Did you know that your mother got saved by his father once? I remember it clearly, it was this awful purse-snatcher guy and Ingenium saved the day. He really was a fine lad, you got to tell him I said hi,” your father slaps a heavy hand onto Tensei’s shoulder. You flinch at the ink-stains he leaves in the fabric.

“I will. Father remembers all of his saves, so I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear from you. But I think we should get going, if we want to make use of our time,” Tensei turns to you. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Leave where?” You furrow your brows.

“There’s a park nearby and I thought we could get a stroll in, what do you think?”

“Eh,” you falter for a second, but Rumi’s less than subtle head movements tell you to go along. “I guess why not?”

“Do you always have to be out in nature?” You ask twenty minutes later when you’ve found a place that’s to Tensei’s liking, a tall tree creating enough shadow for the two of you to sit under.

He blinks. “I guess… I guess I like it a lot, does it bother you?”

“Not that much,” you admit, “It’s just a little surprising, I think. How was your day so far?”

Tensei’s face turns serious, your heart thundering at the sight.

“You know,” he starts, fiddling with a napkin, “I’m supposed to undergo surgery in a week or so.”

“Oh? What kind?” Surely, it’s nothing big, you tell yourself.

Tensei sighs, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“It’s experimentative surgery. I have a twenty percent chance to walk again.”

“And the other eighty?”

He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amused. “I try not to think about it.”

“And you’re supposed to do it? Or is this just an option you’re thinking about?”

His eyes flicker over your face. “It’s an option. My mother doesn’t want me to take it. Tenya’s all for it, although I haven’t really disclosed the risks to him.”

“Tenya wants you to be the person he knows you as. You’re his hero. No one wants to see their heroes fall.”

Tensei sighs, shoulders slumping. It hurts to see him that way. Before you can stop yourself, you’ve climbed onto his lap, dirt be damned.

“Hey,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “Talk to me?”

“I just want everything to be how it used to be,” he admits. “I want Tenya to be happy again.”

Behind your ribcage, a flame of hurt starts licking at your heart. You push it aside, focus on what he’s saying.

“He’s becoming a hero, right?” You ask, “Doesn’t that mean… He’ll have to face these things eventually, will he not?”

“Yeah, but- but not like this. Not on his own. I’d be by his side, fighting alongside him.”

Tensei’s hands dig into your hips now. Your heart stutters with his next words, sensing something beneath them that your mind isn’t ready to process yet.

“If I could turn back time, I would. Even if it meant being a coward that day. I just-” He breaks off, resting his head on your shoulder. You let him cry it out, your food long forgotten.

Tensei’s smiling again by the time he leaves, though you can still see the sadness lingering in his eyes.

Your mind is fogged up as you work and you need twice your usual time for even the most basic tasks.

Rumi’s sending you looks, but you’re not ready to talk about it yet.

It’s on your way to the train station that someone pulls you aside.

You recognize those red wings instantly.

“Yo!” The guy smiles, but it’s not friendly, “Have you heard anything from Dabi?”

You blink, trying to move away, but his grip on your arm is firm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, don’t play it like that.” He smirks. His eyes are a mesmerizing golden color, but they hold no warmth for you. “I know you had intel. What I don’t know is why you came back into the bar?”

“Intel?” You finally manage to rip your hand out of his grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I told Tsukauchi about you and he knows you were there. I’m going to let him know you’re not unimportant as he thinks you are.”

You ready yourself to teleport, cursing the time it still takes - it’s not like you had much chance to practice - when he laughs. It transforms him, the cold, harsh lines bleeding from his face.

“Oh, so you really know nothing,” he says, voice easy as if he’s just talking about the weather. He waves at someone, who turns out be Rapunzel, hiding behind a nearby pillar.

“You were right, Mic, she really knows nothing.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, equally horrified and … You’re not sure how to name that other feeling, just that it leaves you feeling weak, like a terrible cold.

“Ah, I’m glad.” Rapunzel- Present Mic, you remind yourself, grins at you, blonde mustache dancing above his lips. “Just taking care, you know. Can’t be careful enough these days.”

In less than a minute, both of them are gone and so is your train.

All you want to do is teleport over to Tensei and let him make sense of this interaction. But using your Quirk out in the open is never advisable when you’re not a registered Hero, even in a place like this.

So you find yourself a secluded space to wait for the next train - or teleport, depending on what’s shorter, your patience or the wait time - and sit down to think.

Your mind’s still reeling from today’s revelation.

In about a week, Tensei will undergo experimentative surgery. He might be able to walk just fine after that, be who he used to be before it happened, whatever it is.

You try to think of him, standing up. He’s going to be tall, for sure. Probably leaning in the doorway with that lazy smile he always wears when you get home.

But- if everything turns the way it was before, where will that leave you?

Because before, he didn’t have time for a relationship, nor did he want one. He was busy prepping his agency for when Tenya was ready to join him and there’s still a few years until that can happen.

And even if he wanted to scale down his work hours, there’s a difference between dating an Ex-Hero and an active Hero. Not just in the risks he takes, but also in his public image.

Dating you, with your job and your origin, your ties to a part of Tokyo that’s less than stellar. You can’t help but think of yourself as a stain on his public imagine, much like the oil stains your father - and you - left on his outfit today.

Your train arrives, but you don’t get on. There’s still too much to think about.

“Where were you?” Tensei waits for you in the hallway, brows furrowed. “You didn’t pick up your phone.”

“Thinking,” you say, plant yourself in front of him without taking off your shoes. “We need to talk.”

“Do you want to sit down-”

“If you want things to be how they used to be,” you talk over him, needing to get this out, “I will no longer be here.”

Tensei stops, mouth half open.

“I’m not offering you a chance to turn back time. There might be people with a Quirk like that, but I don’t have it. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today and I… I don’t want to hold you back. I understand why you want to get back on your feet and I’d never be in the way of that, but I don’t think we could be together if you returned to being a hero.”

“Why not?” His voice is too soft for a man this sturdy.

You turn your eyes toward the floor.

“Because you are you and I am me and we do not fit together.”

“I think we did pretty well,” Tensei argues and you pull your shoulders up to your ears.

“Yeah, because at the moment you’re broken. I do fit well with broken things, not with those who look new and shiny.” You can’t stop your hand from reaching out, touching the oil stain that’s still on his shoulder.

“I leave stains, Tensei. And you’re a Hero in a white suit.”

“So that’s it?” He asks after a moment of silence. “You’re just going to leave?”

“Staying would just prolong the hurt, wouldn’t it?” You wring your hands. “You don’t even need me anymore. You sleep fine.”

“It’s not about sleeping,” his fingertips dig into the armrests of his wheelchair. “It’s about the time in between. I want to be awake with you.”

“I know,” you swallow the pain, “but that doesn’t make everything alright, does it? I’ll… I’ll get my things, okay? Apparently, I can go back to my place.”

Tensei watches you quietly as you grab your stuff.

A few times you can tell that he’s preparing to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Goodbye,” you tell him, heart heavy, longing for nothing more but to crawl into his arms and stay there, the whole world be damned. “I hope everything turns out alright for you.”

Rumi thinks you’re stupid.

You think you’re stupid.

You’re not sure what your Dad thinks, because you haven’t yet told him about the whole affair.

But from the looks he’s sending you over a plate of what you fondly call “Dad’s hodgepodge”, you’ll find out pretty soon.

“So,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “That guy in the wheelchair.”

“What about him?”

“He’s your mate?”

You fight the flinch, but your face must betray you. Your father chuckles.

“You know, you come right after your mother.”

“I know.”

“Mhm, do you?” He cocks his head to the side to squint at you. “Because I don’t think you do. Did you know that your mother accidentally conjured me up one day?”

You freeze, food halfway to your mouth.

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a wistful smile on her face. “She was so done with dating, she sat down, thinking long and hard about what she wanted in a man, and then wished for it to appear, in one person, thank you very much. A few seconds later I sat in the middle of her room, plenty confused. Didn’t know my Quirk could be turned on me like that.”

You gape at him, mouth open.

“That’s not what you told me! At all!”

“Well,” he takes another sip. “Didn’t want you to try and recreate it. You’ve always been a curious kid.”

“But-”

“Ah,” he shakes his head at you. “Don’t talk back to me. Your mother would be disappointed.”

“Mom would be disappointed if I didn’t talk back,” you snap and he grins, bright like you know him.

You drop your head in your hands.

“So what if he teleported me to him?” You ask, face hidden. “That doesn’t mean we will automatically work out.”

“No,” your father agrees, “but I don’t think we raised you to be a quitter. Or to be ashamed of where you came from. You used it as a motivation, became something we could be proud of. But I’ve noticed, lately, that you’ve lost your goal out of sight. Didn’t you want to get out of this part of town? Open a garage in one of the nicer districts and take me with you?”

“So you’re saying I should milk him for what he’s worth?”

Your Dad laughs.

“No. But I think you should at least try to see if you can work things out before you decide it will fail. And before you ask, Rumi didn’t tell me a thing. You’re just bad at hiding stuff.”

“Am not.”

“Am too. Eat your food.”

Tensei messages you every day. It’s not much, just a few details of what’s going on, but he’s persistent, even though you don’t respond.

Today’s text has you freezing though.

“Talked to Tenya. He’s as torn about going through with the surgery as I am, now that he knows the risks. Hope you’re doing well.”

The letters are dancing in front of your eyes.

Tensei’s just as scared of things as you are. But while you were the one to take the first step, slip into bed with him when you could have run away, he’s the one keeping the conversation going.

You pick up your phone and start to type.

But isn’t that cowardly as well, you wonder, staring down at the words. You should tell him in person.

His apartment, however, is empty.

At first, there’s no hint as to where he could be, until you reach the Calendar in the kitchen, tomorrow marked. Tensei, thorough in everything he does, has written the name of the Clinic next to the appointment.

Not that it’s of any use to you now, when visitation hours are most certainly over.

You pace his living room for a good minute before you realize, a little late, that you don’t have to deal with those anyway. All you have to do is focus on his face, the familiar smell of Grapefruit and Mint and-

Tensei groans, loudly. You’ve landed on top of him.

“Shit, sorry,” you climb off of him as quickly as you can, expecting the telltale smell of Hospital disinfectant and the crinkling of cheap linen.

Instead, your legs land on a mountain of plushies instead of the floor and when he turns on the light, you come face to face with a lifesized poster of a Hero named Gran Torino, the name all but plastered above his head.

“What are you doing here?” Tensei asks, voice groggy, “Am I dreaming?”

“Are you not in the hospital?” You ask back, trying to see more of this strange room. There’s sports equipment in the corner and pictures on the wall.

Wait, is that Tensei with his front teeth missing?

“I’m at my parent's place,” he whispers, turning the light off. “What are you doing here? Did I- Did I summon you again?”

“No, I wanted-” The darkness doesn’t make it easier to speak, instead you’re so much more aware of his body and his smell and the warmth he exudes. “I wanted to be there, with you. For the surgery or whatever you decide to do. I didn’t want to send you just a message, though, so I turned to your apartment but there was only a note on the calendar-” Tensei pulls you into his arms without a word.

“Are you going to leave again?” He asks after a while, voice muffled by how his face is pressed into your shoulder.

“Only if you send me away,” you promise, your hands finding the scars on his back, the spiderweb familiar, though not yet burned into your memory. One day they will be, you think, hoping that it’s true.

“Not sending you away,” he says, pulling you down. “And about the surgery-”

“You can do whatever you feel like doing,” you promise, “And I’ll do my best to support you.”

He laughs softly. “Even if means having breakfast with my parents tomorrow? Accompanying me to a different surgeon for a second opinion? Sitting with Tenya and my parents while I’m undergoing surgery that could kill me? Or pushing my wheelchair around until you need your own in case I decide against surgery?”

“Out of all those options, breakfast with your parents sounds the most daunting,” you confess, “but if they don’t bite my head off for sneaking into your room in the middle of the night to turn their innocent son into a Rebel, I can be swayed.”

“What about the rest?”

“You’re not the only one scared of relationships,” you admit. “But I’m not willing to let that fear stop me. You might have to remind me, though, sometimes. I don’t have the best memory.”

“Deal,” he says and you don’t need light to know he’s smiling. You can feel it, the curve of his lips, pressed against your own.

- x -

“Tensei?” Tenya calls from the front door.

“Taking a nap,” you call back, “I’m in the kitchen.”

It surprises you yet again, how Tenya’s still not done growing. He’s blinking in that tired way that tells you that school has been hell, but he still moves to hug you before he descends onto the Couch.

Your apartment is closer to his school than his parent's house and even if it wasn’t, you’re pretty sure he’d still show up at least once a week.

In a few months, right after graduation, Tenya will start working as Ingenium, the newest member of their family to properly carry the name as a Pro Hero.

Tensei is insanely proud and so are you.

You take one look back at Tenya’s sleeping form when you feel it, the telltale signs of your Quirk activating.

You have just enough time to drop the knife you’d been holding before you dematerialize, only to plop back into existence right next to your Husband.

Tensei’s smiling, eyes open.

“Hey there,” he greets you, pulling you close, smothering you in a cloud of Grapefruit and Mint. “Missed you.”

“I was just in the other room,” you pretend to be mad, but your hands are betraying your words, rubbing circles into his back.

“Too far away,” he jokes.

“One day you’ll get in trouble for misusing my Quirk,” you tell him, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“But not today,” Tensei quips back. He’s right.

#my writing #tensei iida #tensei x reader #tensei iida x reader #ingenium #iida x reader #tenya iida #iida family #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff

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mayaree-darling · 9 months

Text

history in the making // rex lapis (zhongli)

from aree: inspired by the latest collab genshin has with the Sanxingdui Museum (and the trailer for said event). (Slightly SAGAU just bcoz but can be read as a normal Reverse Isekai AU)

You're a security guard for the museum and you're out on your regular patrol for the night. All is quiet save for the tapping of your shoes on the marble floors and the jingle of keys hanging from your belt.

When you round the corner, you flinch. There's a man standing there, barefooted, just staring at the museum displays with curiosity. You accidentaly shine your light on him, unconsciously trying to get a better look at him and he turns to you.

Something about him was definitely off. He was wearing some kind of hooded robe. And... gloves? What else could they be? They reached from his shoulders to the very tips of his fingers, making his arms look brown like the very earth. Whatever gloves those were, they ran with veins of gold, making him glow under the museum darkness. But above all else, the most damning piece of evidence that he wasn't from around here were his golden eyes that almost seemed to glow brighter than the gold of his arms.

He definitely did not look like he belonged here, and yet, he looked like he was right at home in this very museum - if you said he was as ancient as the very displays, it felt like you'd be correct.

"You're not supposed to be around here right now." You say dumbly. What else were you supposed to say anyway? You're a security guard in a museum, your sole job was to kick people out past visiting hours.

His mouth ticks up at the corners, like you just said something funny. You would be offended at the thought of not being taken seriously while on the job, if you didn't think he suddenly looked more... human. The deadpan stare he had on earlier made him look too statuesque, too detached from everything.

"Then what say you would be the most apt time to pay a visit?" His voice is deep and melodious, almost intimidating if not for the playful lilt to his tone.

"Uh, 8:30 AM to 6 PM?" You rub the back of your neck, directing the flashlight to the museum entrance. The doors were firmly closed and locked. You can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye. "How did you even get in here...?"

He seems to think about your words, closing his eyes in thought. Without the glow of his eyes, you notice even the tips of his hair are golden. Maybe some kind of cosplayer? But by the looks of it, he seemed to move around too comfortable in his attire for it not to be every day wear. And his eyes didn't look like contact lenses. Finally, he opened his eyes, a mischievous glint to them.

"If I were to say I have arrived here through a dream, would you believe me?" His mouth forms a small smile and you blink at him.

"Guess you don't plan on telling me the truth," You sigh. "Fine then."

You tentatively touch the two-way radio on your belt. Should you call this in? Some guy in cosplay just found his way in and has no plans on telling you how he got here. You think you should tell someone. But...

"You are from here, correct?" He asks and you turn to him immediately. He really has a way of getting people's attention, especially with his voice. You nod at him. "Then might I ask you to tell me of what these statues mean?"

Huh. Now that you thought about it, he was looking at the displays when you first saw him, too. Maybe he'll cooperate easily with you if you tell him a couple of things about the museum. You should really tell someone, but at the same time-

You feel like the moment you tell someone else, he'd disappear from your view. You must be going mad.

"Follow me, then." You're no tour guide, but you do know of the things they speak of. So you repeat what you hear during the day.

You tell the golden-eyed man about the remains of the ancient Shu Kingdom four thousand years ago. You tell him of 50,000 artifacts unearthed in the ruins. He asks questions about the Bronze Age, of their masks and artworks, and you answer best you can while reading the displays.

Finally, you reach a corner where the fire exit is. He stops beside you.

"Sorry about this. But not gonna lie, I've let you stay long enough," you sigh.

He shakes his head and smiles softly. "You have done more than enough. I thank you for letting me see your world."

Your world? Odd choice of words. But if he really wasn't from here, then you guess in a sense this is a bit of your world.

"Just go past these doors and they'll lead you straight out the building. Do I need to escort you out?" He shakes his head and you open the door for him.

He passes through, but stops just before passing you. "May we meet again, Overseer."

"That's not really my name. Also I hope you wouldn't come back like this." You tell him your name, but he merely whispers it and smiles. "Oh, right, I forgot to ask yours."

He opens his mouth before closing it and shaking his head. "I fear that if I tell you my name, we will never see each other again. As such, I promise to tell you the next time we meet."

This guy gets weirder by the minute, but atleast your meeting was ending. "Just make sure to come back during visiting hours, alright? I don't wanna lose my job."

You close the door behind him, but just as you do, smoke and golden light slips past the cracks of the door. With a yelp, you throw the door open, expecting a fire, but there's nothing.

No robed man, no fire. Just the remains of a mist.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were dreaming.

You think it's a dream. Not until by the next night, you find the same man. Same golden eyes, in armor of brown and gold.

He looks to you and offers another smile.

And he tells you his name.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#this is just Five Nights with Zhongli lmaooo #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #rex lapis x reader #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau zhongli #sagau rex lapis

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lunarsturniolo · 10 months

Text

Hoodie Thief

“Hi baby,” I whisper out to him, pulling him into my arms.

Chris nuzzles his face into my neck, “God, I’m so happy right now,” he says, placing a soft kiss on my collarbone.

I giggle, “I know, I missed you bad.”

Reader can’t stop wearing Chris’s clothes.

Masterlist

“Hey, mama, it’s me,” Chris knocks on my doorframe twice.

I turn to look at him, a smile stretching across my lips. Despite the fall weather, Chris arrived at my place in a black wife beater and a pair of grey sweatpants. My eyes wander over his body appreciatively before settling on his eyes, which glance at me with an amused expression.

“Hi, baby,” I say with a slight blush on my cheeks.

“You done staring at me?” he teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

“Should’ve worn an extra layer if you didn't want me to stare,” I shrug, turning back to my laptop. Adjusting a few numbers on the Excel sheet I was working on, I double-checked that the autosave was on before closing my laptop gently and giving Chris my full attention. “What’s up?”

“That’s kinda why I’m here,” he says, stepping further into my room, leaning against my desk, “There seems to be a hoodie thief among us, and I have to make sure you’re safe.”

I roll my eyes, “Is this an evidence backed claim?”

“This is a hoodie spawning ground, so I wanted to check your inventory,” Chris plays along.

“Chris, if you need your clothes back, just tell me,” I tell him, my hands already reaching for the hem of the Fresh Love I’m wearing.

“No, no, that’s okay,” he says, pausing abruptly, “You called me Chris.”

I giggle a little bit, standing to meet him, “That is your name, right?”

My hands reach for his neck, wrapping around his body like a glove. I play with the hairs on the nape of his neck as he wraps his arms around my waist, “My name is baby to you.”

A blush rises to my cheeks, “You have a trillion nicknames for me, and I can only call you baby?”

“That’s right, love.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, “So, do you want your hoodies back?”

Chris lets out an overdramatic sigh, “No, I guess you can keep them,” he teases.

“I don’t have to keep all of them.”

“No, you keep them all, and I’ll get myself some new Fresh Love ones.”

My eyes widened, “No!”

Chris furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“The whole point is that these are your hoodies,” I explain.

He pulls away slightly, looking at me bewildered. “I am so confused right now.”

I blush, shoving my head into his chest as a laugh breaks through my body, “Baby,” I start with a sigh.

He lets out a little laugh, moving you back to where he can see you, “Seriously,” he says.

“I want them because they smell like you, and they remind me of you,” I mutter.

“Mmm,” he lets out an appreciative laugh, “You love me bad,” he teases.

I smile, “Maybe!” I reply in a sing-song voice.

—

Sitting in my car, trying to relieve myself from the anxiety of finally seeing Chris again after a full week of busy nights for the both of us, proves impossible. My hands are non-stop fidgeting with my earrings, and my mind is racing at the thought of finally being in his arms.

I spend the next few minutes waiting for the text from Matt to let me know the three of them are on their way home. My phone buzzed twice

Chris: I’ll see you tomorrow, right? After your exam?

Matt: Otw

I love both Matt and Chris’s messages and send Chris a quick I miss you, before moving my car two houses down and running into the triplet's place.

Using my flashlight to avoid turning any overhead lights on, I carefully make my way through the kitchen and into Chris’s room, a gift bag in hand.

Hiding in his closet, I steady my breathing and wait for the familiar click of the front door.

“Nick, is my charger in the backpack? I think I lost it,” I hear Matt yell.

“Let me look,” Nick replied, “Chris do you have it?”

“I can check,” he says, “I was gonna go in my room and call Y/N anyway.”

I hold my breath in anticipation. I hear the door creek open, and I can hear the familiar ring of a FaceTime call from Chris’s phone. Anxiety settles in a pit in my stomach as I realize my ringer is on and about to erupt from his closet.

Sure enough, my phone blares its ringtone, and you hear Chris’s feet stop moving. “What the hell?” he mutters.

I hear him inch towards the closet door and open it, a dumbfounded expression coating his face that quickly turns to pure joy as he realizes you’re in his closet.

“Hi baby,” I whisper out to him, pulling him into my arms.

Chris nuzzles his face into my neck, “God, I’m so happy right now,” he says, placing a soft kiss on my collarbone.

I giggle, “I know, I missed you bad.”

I take hold of his face, kissing him lightly on the lips, “I got you a present,” I say before feathering kisses on both his cheeks and, lastly, on his nose.

Chris frowns slightly, “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says.

I kiss the corners of his mouth, “I know, but I wanted to get you something.”

He smiles lightly, definitely upset that I spent money on him. He helps me step out of his closet and watches carefully as I grab the large, white gift bag from the floor.

Handing it to him with a smile itching at my lips, I receive a quick kiss and a “Thanks bug,” in return.

He opens the bag cautiously, grabbing the card first and ripping it open. He mouths the words to himself quietly as he reads, a smile growing on his face and tears threatening to spill. “God, I love you,” he says.

I smile at him and nudge him lightly with my elbow, “Open the gift!”

Inside the bag, you had carefully wrapped a Boston Bruins vintage starter jacket in white tissue paper. On top of the paper, there was a small note that read For all the hoodies you’ve lost.

Chris eyes me cautiously before ripping open the paper. His eyes land on the black and yellow jacket and they bounce back to me immediately. He gently wraps his arms around my head, cradling me close.

“Thank you so much,” he whispers in my ear, “And nice hoodie,” he teases.

I furrow my eyebrows and look down at what I’m wearing- a green and orange fresh love crewneck.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo imagine

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vacantfields · 8 months

Text

Ever since you had caught one of Moon's shows at the plex, you had playfully teased him by singing one of his songs but in an off-key manner to annoy him.

The two of you were doing a late-night security round together; he was strolling next to you in his usual jester outfit, all while you were singing your heart out and dancing around him, keeping the flashlight steady so you didn't blind the tall android.

Moon had a soft grin on his lips and hummed out in his usual raspy tone. "Having fun, Star?" he asked as you stopped spinning around yourself for a moment, smiling brightly up at him. You had to really crane your neck back to look at him as he was 8'5", and you barely reached his ribs.

"Well, yeah!" you responded. "I never knew about the night shows, Moonie! I didn't know you could sing like that!" you giggled.

Moon kept his grin soft as he let out a breathy chuckle. "I have always been able to sing Starlight. They just made sure my voice box could handle it more." You scoffed at that.

"Moon. You sang lullabies before. This is different! You were wearing different clothes, and you just looked different!" you said with a flail of your hand in your rambling that Moon gently caught in his big hand, and then he didn't let it go as you two continued to walk.

"I'm glad you enjoyed my performance Starlight. Maybe next time you could let me know you will be there so I can sing to you directly." His grin bordered on a playful smirk as he watched the profile of your face heat up, covering your cheeks in a soft red blush. "Right." You whispered.

Moon looked amused as you two continued your walk down the long walkways of the pizzaplex. He squeezed your soft and small hand gently in his.

He adored you. He adored your warmth. He thought about confessing his love for you there, but he needs to talk with Sun first, so it will have to wait.

You had begun to hum one of his songs again, and he joined in, which made you smile brightly, and the softest giggle escaped your lips.

Moon can't wait for when he can finally call you his.

#Things Are Better AU #dca fandom #Drabble #Moon x reader #Moon x yn #Fnaf moon #Writing #Fluff #Soft #Cute #Just wanted to write something FJSJGJ

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itsthestutterforme · 5 months

Text

Go Meg (Rafe Cameron x black!reader)

Summary: Thank God for the Megan challenge.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, suggestive themes (masturbation, lap dancing, twerking)

“The Megan Challenge is the best thing that ever happened to us,” Topper says as him and Kelce look over the crowd on the second floor.

Every girl was shaking ass with “Wanna Be” playing over the speakers. Everywhere they looked there was ass shaking.

Someone turned off the lights and some guys used the flashlights on their phones to record the girl twerking on them.

Meanwhile the lights on the second floor were still on. Rafe and some of his buddies were chatting it up and smoking weed until your friend, Sasha, takes your hand and tries to drag you downstairs.

“Hey, hey. Where you going?” Rafe asks, standing from the couch. His eyes were a little red but he was still sober enough to notice your every move.

“We’re going downstairs to dance.” You said, his initial resting pretty on your neck.

Rafe glanced over the railing to the crowds of girls twerking on guys. “I’m coming with you,”

“She’ll be fine. She’s with me,” Sasha retorts. “Is that suppose to mean something to me?” Rafe snaps causing Sasha to roll her eyes.

Rafe motions you over with two fingers, a common sign that he wanted a kiss before you left.

You leaned up and just as your lips were about to meet, Sasha drags you down the stairs.

I’ll be fine, you mouth to him, sending him a wink before your figure disappears into the darkness downstairs.

Rafe joins Kelce and Topper at the top of the stairs.

Your friend pushes through the crowd to get to the inner circle. The room wreeked of weed and sweat from brushing against so many hot bodies to get to the middle.

Your friend wanted you to be the center of attention because she knew you were about to eat.

You slept over her house one night and the night went from talking about boys to having a twerk session.

She did not know you could make your ass clap like that.

Not even Rafe knew how much you’d like to twerk. It would only make him feel more protective of you.

He gave you shit for wearing the ripped jean shorts because he could see some the bottom part of your cheeks.

Rafe watches as your friend spun you around and you lean forward to move your ass side to side, making your thighs giggle.

Leaning down all the way, your chest was pressed to the front of your thighs and your hands traveled up the back of your legs.

Rafe’s cock was straining in his pants when you stick your tongue out in amusement as you stood up straight.

You pushed your silk press over your shoulder and threw your ass in a circle.

“Bow, bow, bow!” Sasha hypes you up and slaps your cheeks when you press against her, causing you to laugh.

Sasha looked over at Rafe who was watching your every move, which quickly shifted to noticing how other guys were staring at you.

Some of them had their phones out, recording you. They were lusting after you. You, his girl.

Rafe’s jaw tightens when he made the realization and someone would jerk off to those videos of you.

She knew exactly what she was doing by bringing you in the middle.

Sasha hated Rafe and Rafe hated Sasha because neither of them liked to share.

“I didn’t know your girl could twerk, Rafe.” Kelce states, looking away so he wasn’t met with a sharp look from Rafe.

“Me neither.” Rafe looks at Topper, tongue in cheek as he watches him falling into a trance of your hips moving.

“What the fuck are you looking at, Top?” Rafe steps closer to him. “Huh?”

“Huh?” Rafe mocks, body checking Topper and Kelce steps out of the way so Rafe could go down the stairs to find you.

“Dude, are you fucking crazy?” Kelce scolds Topper when Rafe is out of ear shot.

Sasha watches the whole interaction with a smirk on her face.

“I’m going to get a drink. I’m thirsty.” You yell at her over the music and that’s the moment you notice the phones trained on you.

“But the song’s not over yet.” Sasha reasons. “I think they’ve had enough show for tonight.”

You took a step back and collided with the warm chest.

“I have a boyfriend. Get the fuck away from me.” You snap, your mouth falling open when you turn around to see Rafe’s proud smirk.

You were a bitch to other guys and he fucking loved it. “Oh, shit. Sorry-“

He cuts you off with a messy kiss, his tongue rolling over yours as he grabbed handfuls of your ass. You moaned against him, pulling him closer by the neck.

“I’m yours,” you said against his lips when he pulled away. “Took the words out of my mouth, baby.”

Without warning, he threw you over his shoulder and smacked your ass hard enough to leave a hand print.

“Ow! What the hell, Rafe!” He slaps your ass again to shut you up and you comply.

He strolls out of the party with you dangling over his shoulder like a rag doll.

“How about you give me a.. private dance tonight, hm?”

#black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x reader

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myobmaya · 2 years

Text

Slow Burn | Eddie Munson

Eddie munson x fem!reader (established relationship with mechanic!eddie)

Description: after a long day of work, you just need the comfort of your boyfriend

Tw: smut. just sex with eddie.

for my eddie gir™️l @boomhauer I hope this makes up for the times we bombarded you with Steve (one day we’ll get you to admit you’re truly a Steve girl)

The voices of Metallica blast through the small auto shop off the side of the road in the small town of Hawkins. It’s one of three that the town offers, but the only one that seems to be open closer to midnight.

An orange 1969 Ford Mustang sits in the garage. Eddie Munson lays under the car fixing up some mechanical problems humming the words to his favorite songs. He’s the only one in the shop. His other two mechanics long gone hours ago leaving him alone to work. Or so he thinks.

You lean against the doorway watching the way his foot taps from under the vehicle. Despite the long shift wearing you out, you find enough energy to be at your boyfriend’s shop instead of going home.

Today was a rough day.

You didn’t want to go home to an empty house. You need to be around the person that could make you forget your boss’s lack of help and the patrons cruel words.

Not wanting to startle him, you lean over and stand on your tippy toes to reach the radio that sits on the counter beside the doorway. Your fingers turn the knob down and the music goes from deafening to a more appropriate level.

Eddie’s turning his wrench on a pipe when he hears his voice rather than James Hetfield’s singing the lyrics. He turns his head to the doorway for a clue and sees a familiar pair of shoes.

A big grin spreads like butter across his face and he’s pulling himself from under the car.

Eddie’s eyes squint as the light hits them. The flashlight he had propped under the car gave him just enough light to work with, but not enough for his eyes to adjust.

It only takes him a few seconds for the sting of the lights to go away. Once they do, you fill his sight and his chest fills with warmth.

He grabs the rag that sits on the hood of the car. He makes his way towards you wiping the visible grease from his hands. His hands are stained with the car residue, a familiar sight you’re used to.

You push yourself off the door and meet him halfway.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie greets you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. The other holds your cheek as you entangle your arms around his back. He puckers his lips giving you a quick kiss.

You pull back but keep yourself wrapped up in him.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” He asks, stroking his thumb against your cheek.

You lean your face against his palm. He takes notes of your tired eyes and the worn out look on your face.

It didn’t matter if you tried to hide your emotions. Eddie always held the key to unlock what you try to hide in your head.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. His eyebrows are furrowed as his thumbs stroke your cheek bones.

You shake your head not wanting to talk about work right now.

“I just needed to see you,” you lean forward and steal another peck from him. Eddie smiles cupping your face. He squeezes your cheeks together causing your lips to pout.

He laughs and gives you a peck. Your plumped up lips causing the two of you to enjoy the silliness.

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.” You give him a tired smile. He returns it before glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s nearing midnight. He looks back at you and the needy look in your eyes is enough for him to conclude he’s closing up the shop for the night. The car he was working on can wait until morning.

You let him take one of your hands into his.

He makes his way to the couch that sits to the side of the garage. An area he often used when he needed a break or to catch a nap after long hours.

Eddie takes a seat and pulls you right onto his lap. Your legs settling over his, your arm encircling around his neck as you lean against his chest. His hand rests on your knee holding you closer to him while the other meets your hip.

You feel his thumb begin to absentmindedly trace small circles on the side of your waist. His touch is already setting a flame in you.

He brushes back your hair tucking it behind your ear, “What’s going in that beautiful head of yours, doll?”

The lost look in your eyes tells him you’re swimming in your thoughts. And he’ll do anything to pull you back in.

When you don’t reply right away, he presses his lips to your neck. He keeps it innocent, leaving it as soft pecks as he makes a trail up to your cheek and back down.

“You know,” you take a deep breath trying not to bring yourself to another stress meltdown, “Work took forever. Some days it feels like Satan, himself, is my boss.”

You feel his kisses stop so he can look at you.

Focus on you.

Listen to you.

Your voice comes out as a whisper, “I just hated today.”

Eddie immediately sympathizes with you. He’s had his days, though becoming his own boss has definitely cut down on them. But, he still understands the stress you’ve had and only wants to make you feel better.

His hand moves up to your back, rubbing soothing circles on it. “How can I help?”

Tears spring to the back of your eyes. How can I help? A simple question, yet one that no one bothered to ask today. Most days you don’t need the help. But some days, days like today, it would have been great to have someone show the kindness you needed right now.

Eddie takes the pad of his thumbs and wipes under your eyes. The stress from today pulling down on your shoulders.

You don’t need help anymore. The work day is done. It’s over with. You just need to be engulfed in the person that has always helped you in more ways than one.

Turning to Eddie, you take him in. The white tank top clings to his skin, dirt and motor oil stain it, but he’s never looked better. His sun kissed shoulders are kissed by the recent tattoos lining them. His curly hair is pulled back in a low bun, his go to when he’s working.

There’s something about the way he effortlessly looks so fuckable in his mechanic clothes that makes you needy for him.

Eddie watches your eyes trail over him. The way your tongue peaks out before your teeth suck in your bottom lip gives him confirmation of why you’re here. He knows what you want. But, he needs you to say it.

You meet his coffee colored eyes. “I need you to fuck me.”

Eddie takes your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. He kisses you until you pull away needing air. Your hands tug at the bottom of your shirt, freeing it off your chest before throwing it behind you. It lands on top of the Mustang, neither one of you noticing as Eddie’s hands make work on your bra.

Your bra is tossed onto the ground and Eddie immediately takes your breasts into his hands. He leans down and places open mouth kisses along your skin, licking and sucking every inch of your chest.

His mouth meets your nipple as your hands grip his hair. You feel him groan as you tug on his head, his other hand meeting your other breast. As his tongue circles around your nipple, he lays you back onto the couch.

“Eddie,” his name comes out in a breathless moan as you take in the feeling of his tongue working on you.

He continues his markings on you, working his way down until he stops at the top of your pants. Never letting his mouth leave your body, his mouth lays open mouth kisses to your hips as his hands make work on your pants.

His fingers unbutton them and slide the zipper down before he’s pulling back from you. You lift up your hips as his hands tug down your pants, taking your panties with them.

They’re thrown to the ground and he’s back over you in seconds. The rush of having each other after a long day catches up quickly. He pulls his pants down far enough to grab and pull himself from his boxers.

Your hand immediately goes to your mound, running a finger up and down. Eddie curses out loud, the sight of you naked on the couch in his shop was a wet dream come to life.

He strokes himself as you run your fingers up your wet slit before dipping one in and sliding it up to your clit.

“Baby,” he keeps his eyes on your heat as you rub yourself ready for him.

He hovers over you, keeping one hand beside your head, the other on his length.

“You’re a fucking dream,” his voice filled with lust his eyes full of need.

You grab the back of his neck pulling him to your mouth once more. He holds himself in his hand, guiding the tip of his cock along your wet slit. When he pushes in your mouth falls open, feeling him stretch you out.

“That’s it, baby,” his forehead stays pressed against yours as he bottoms out. Your moans bring a smile to his face as he moves his hips making you feel every inch of him. “That’s my fucking girl.”

The black curls from his pelvis brush against your clit and you swear nothing feels better than being filled up by him. You could have a hundred more bad days if it meant ending them like this.

“Eddie,” you whimper out, wrapping your fingers into his hair. He nods his head against yours leaning down to capture your lips.

He pulls himself in and out of your wet cunt enjoying the sensation of you taking him deeper. “You feel so fucking good.” And he means it. Nothing beats having his cock buried in you after a long day of working nonstop. Needing you even more, his hands fall to your waist. They grip your hips in a tight embrace as he pulls you up with him.

“Come sit on my cock, baby,” he whispers against your lips. You feel him pull out of you, only to sit back and lean against the back of the couch. He grabs your thigh and helps you climb into his lap.

You steady yourself with one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his aching cock in your hand. His hands never leave your thighs, holding them in a tight hold you’re sure will have his fingertips indented by morning time.

He watches as you take his cock and run it up to your clit. You moan feeling the tip against you before guiding it down your pussy and sinking down on it.

Eddie lets out a loud groan seeing your cunt swallow his cock. He sees the ways your eyes flutter and how your breathing staggers. The way you completely give yourself to him sends a shock wave through his cock.

Just him looking at you with that fucked out look on your face is enough to make him cum. You settle your hands on his shoulders before you lean in and kiss him, grinding your hips taking him further.

The way your eyes shut and your breathing staggers brings a grin to his face. He knows you’re getting there.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Eddie groans feeling you squeeze around him. You pick up your pace chasing for release.

His hand leaves your thigh to slip in between your legs. You rest your hands on his shoulder and begin to lift your hips up and down his length.

“You look so fucking good taking me like this,” Eddie praises taking his thumb and rubbing it against your clit. The movement causes your eyes to open. You look down and watch as you fuck yourself on his cock, his hand working on your clit.

Eddie grounds his feet into the ground and sinks his back against the couch. Lifting his hips, he meets yours every time until you’re eventually leaning forward.

Your forehead presses against his as he fucks up into you taking over. His hand never leaves your clit taking all the work from you.

“That’s it, baby. Keep fucking yourself just like that.”

It’s not long before the euphoric feeling you’ve been aching for all day is creeping in. Eddie feels your nails dig into his skin and hisses. The pain mixed with the pleasure of fucking you feels so good.

Your whimpers increase and you’re letting him know you’re about to cum.

Eddie nods against you, telling you to cum. He wants to hear those sweet moans as you let go. He needs to feel your pussy clench around him and milk his cock clean.

Your legs tremble and you’re coming undone, head falling to his shoulder. He groans feeling your pussy tighten around him and he’s grabbing your hips keeping you steady as he fucks you through your orgasm.

He feels your breath against his neck and grips your hips tighter. Your sensitive cunt takes him over and over until he’s spilling inside of you, the feeling nearly sending you over the edge again.

Neither of you move for minutes, basking in the afterglow of your post orgasm haze. You practice regaining your breath, staying put in his neck. His hands move from your waist to your back as he traces small circles on it. Both of you taking each other in.

“You still with me, doll?”

Eddie feels you smile at the pet name. You lift your head and he looks down at you. Eyes tired but the smile he’s been searching for has finally made an appearance.

“Hi,” your voice is soft.

Eddie kisses your forehead. “Hi, baby.” You press your lips against his before pulling back. You look down at your still connected bodies before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. He helps you steady as you lift off of him, the mess between you two present.

With weak legs you go to the cabinet off to the side and open the drawer where the clean rags are hidden. You pick up your shirt that was thrown on the car, hearing Eddie chuckle.

You clean yourself up, grabbing an extra clean one and make your way towards Eddie.

He gratefully accepts the rag and wipes himself clean as you make work to dress yourself. By the time you’ve slipped your clothes back on, Eddie’s already pulled his pants over his hips.

“Let’s go home?” You suggest looking down at him. It’s late and you’re both done for the day. You pick up a hand and link your fingers through his. He lets out a loud groan as helping him off the couch making you laugh at his dramatics.

His arms find their place around your shoulders, bringing you in to kiss the top of your head.

“Let's go home, doll.”

————

A/N: is tumblr giving anyone else a hard time when it comes to saving drafts? :( I’ve been having the hardest time uploading and posting hopefully this time my paragraphs don’t get double posted and deleted :(

thank you @littlesubbyflower for going in and editing when my mushy brain refused to

thank you to my wonderful beta readers @loveshotzz @strangermarvelss @thefreakofhawkins86

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson

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