#they should tap dance again that was very fun

[realbeefman]

funniest part of iwtv is the way louis NARRATES. mf you were turned in 1910 there is ZERO reason for you to be speaking like that.

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma���am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

[sagesolsticewrites]

Kiss It Better (pt 2) 💋

That lipstick mark leads to a surprising turn of events 👀

a/n: Y’all didn’t think I was gonna leave it like that, did you? Ask and you shall receive: Kiss It Better pt 2! (Also! I’m having sooo much fun with these MOTA requests 🥹 feel free to send more in, or request other characters y’all think I should write for!)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Read pt 1 here!

Masterlist

You stopped into sickbay early the next morning, to catch up on paperwork.

The fact that you’d be able to see Buck was just a bonus; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But when you stepped inside, there was already someone sitting at Buck’s bedside.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief once your surprise had faded, “Should’ve known you’d stop by sooner or later.”

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Bucky asked, and you could just make out worry lining his face as you approached.

“He’ll be fine,” you assured him, “The scrapes will heal up in no time, and after a week or so of rest he should be cleared to fly again.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded, shoulders visibly relaxing, “That’s good. Now, uh…”

A smirk appeared on his face. “Wanna tell me what this is all about?”

He tapped his forehead, and after a moment of confusion glancing between him and Buck, your eyes finally landed on the bright red outline of your lips somehow still visible on Gale’s forehead.

You felt heat flood your face, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the same red lipstick that you had painstakingly applied only an hour earlier.

“Oh. Oh! That. Well, um…” You tried to look anywhere but at Bucky and his sleeping friend as you explained, “Buck was a little out of it when he was brought in yesterday, and when I was explaining the protocol for his head wound he asked me to, uh… kiss it better.”

You silently prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you as Bucky just barely held back a snicker.

Noticing how uncomfortable you were, however, he quickly said, “No, sweetheart, it’s not you, it’s just…”

Bucky shook his head, seemingly in exasperation, “Of course it took a head wound to get this guy to ask you for a kiss.”

Your mind seemed to have trouble processing this, and for a moment all you heard was ask you for a kiss before you were able to reply with a confused, “I’m sorry, I— what?”

Bucky let out a soft laugh.

“I was really hopin’ I could get him to tell you himself, but at this rate we’ll be well into old age before that happens, so…” He took a deep breath.

Sensing that you should probably be sitting down for whatever he was about to say, you perched on the edge of Buck’s cot, trying very hard not to think about the mere inches between the two of you.

“I don’t know how you haven’t seen it, but Buck’s been head over heels for you since the first day he saw you, sweetheart.”

“I— But he’s never—”

“He was always goin’ on about being worried what telling you might do to your friendship,” Bucky explained with a shrug, “That’s just how he is. Tends to keep things bottled up inside. But seein’ you two just dance around each other for the past three months has been absolute torture, so this is me puttin’ an end to my misery once and for all.”

Bucky stood, giving you a friendly pat on your knee, “Tell him how you feel, sweetheart. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

He left with a wink, a smile, and a quip about not getting too handsy — “This is a hospital! People are trying to heal!” — that left you blushing.

And just like that, you were left alone with a sleeping Gale Cleven.

Unsure what to do, you simply stared at him for a moment, taking him in. He was so… unguarded in his sleep, despite the scrapes and bruises, and your heart went soft at the lack of worry lines that seemed to be ever-present when he was awake. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his dirty blond hair, still mussed from the battle and from sleep, instead choosing to run your fingertips over the slightly faded lipstick mark on his temple.

You just barely managed to stifle a gasp when he stirred, but it was too late.

“Y/N?” Your name slipped drowsily from his lips, and a small thrill ran through you at the sound— until he seemed to wake more and corrected himself hurriedly. “I mean, Nurse L/N, um. Good morning.”

“Good morning, Major,” you replied, once again falling back into the safety of professionalism.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, neither of you wanting to disrupt the rare quiet of an early morning on base.

Buck eventually cleared his throat, looking determinedly at his blanket and nowhere else as he spoke.

“Yesterday… After the battle’s a bit of a blur, but unless I’m misremembering I might’ve asked you to, uh…”

His hand drifted almost automatically up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help a small laugh as you tracked the movement.

“Kiss it better?” You asked teasingly, hoping to get ahead of the inevitable embarrassment, “You did.”

You couldn’t help your eyes flicking to the imprint of your lips on his forehead, and Buck, observant pilot that he was, noted it instantly.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

And here you were once again wishing the ground would open up and swallow you as you wordlessly handed Buck a small mirror from your pocket.

“Oh, you actually…” His face turned beet-red, and he scrambled to apologize; “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to— you know I would never—”

“Hey,” you lowered the mirror, gently removing it from his grasp so his focus was on you, “I know. You were a little out of it, it’s alright. And you never know, it might’ve helped.” You couldn’t help but add with a teasing grin before asking with genuine concern, “How are you feeling now?”

He seemed to take stock of his condition internally before answering “A bit better, all things considered. I’ve got a friend who’s one of the best nurses on base, y’know.”

“Please, Major, I’m just doing my job,” you replied, avoiding his gaze as you waved away the compliment.

“No, really. I honestly—” He seemed to steel himself for something, his expression as he took a deep breath not unlike when they were called for a mission — pure determination.

“It got… pretty bad up there yesterday. And at first I was thinkin’… as long as we get the mission done, and the other boys get home safe, I don’t particularly care what happens to me. And then…” His fingertips edged towards yours, just as they had yesterday, “I got to thinking about you. About wanting to make it back to you, to tell you I—”

His voice faltered as his soft blue gaze met your own, and there was a beat of silence. Your own eyes were welling up with tears, but you blinked them back as best you could.

“Buck…”

You couldn’t quite form the words, so you decided to show him that you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

Taking his face in your hands, mindful of his head wound, you pressed your lips to his as gently as you could.

He froze, and for a moment you thought you’d made a horrible mistake. Was Bucky wrong? Was this his idea of a joke?

But then Gale was sitting up, leaning into you, pressing his lips to yours with a fierce tenderness. One scarred, callused hand came up to cup your cheek while the other — Gale Cleven, ever the gentleman — rested just above your waist, pulling you closer.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there in that small bubble of bliss. It felt like an eternity that ended all too soon as the two of you parted for air.

“I never thought—” Buck let out a soft laugh, almost in disbelief, his nose brushing against yours, “I mean, I loved being your friend, but…”

“This is probably a good time to tell you that I’ve been absolutely head over heels for you since the moment we met,” you said, fighting back a blush.

“Finally!” A familiar voice came from the entrance to the hospital, “Only took you three months, but I’m happy for you two—”

You buried your face in Buck’s neck as he tossed a pillow at Bucky.

“Get outta here, Bucky, I’m trying to have a moment with my girl!” He called good-naturedly.

“I want all the details later!” He called back as he retreated to the safety of the hallway, “Congrats, sweetheart!”

You assumed that last part was aimed at you, but you were preoccupied with a different pair of words.

“Your girl, huh?” You said, meeting Gale’s gaze with a shy smile.

“Yeah,” he grins down at you, the scars doing nothing to diminish the joy on his face, “That is, uh… if you want.”

You briefly pressed your lips to his once again, the smile on your face all the answer he needed.

Pulling back to take in his smiling face, an idea came to you.

You leaned up to press a kiss right where the stain of your lipstick was still visible on his forehead.

Then again to the scar just between his eyebrows.

And again to the bruise just below his right eye.

You scattered kisses across all the scrapes, scratches, and bruises on his face. Buck spoke up as you pressed kisses to a series of shallow scrapes along his jaw.

“Not that I don’t, uh…” he began in a slightly strangled voice, “really like this, doll, but what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You said, pulling away to meet his gaze for a moment before you pressed your lips to a scratch on the bridge of his nose, “I’m kissing it better.”

Buck let out the loudest, fondest laugh you’d ever heard from him, and your heart felt like it filled with pure sunshine at the sound.

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite nurse,” he grinned, pulling you in for yet another tender kiss.

Buck our beloved 🥰 This was so much fun to write, I hope y’all enjoyed! 😊 Tagging a couple friends just for fun 🤍: @sassy-ahsoka-tano @mpmarypoppins @austinbutlermischief @austin-butlers-gf @dontbesussis

[stolasdearest]

hey!! it's me again, the same anon requested a Reader with anger issues :3

could u do platonic headcanons with Alastor and Rosie x Male Overlord! Reader who is the opposite of them? the three of them are best Friends but Reader is like the opposite of them? He rarely smiles, isn't chatty and is rough? and maybe, since alastor and Rosie LOVE singing and dancing, the Reader is kinda shy about it cause he doesn't like the way he dances/sings?

hope I'm not bothering! i just really like your writing :)

Rosie & Alastor x Reader (Platonic) ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

AAAAA HII welcome back!! thank you <3 youre never bothering me dear I always love seeing you! I made a banner for this (and incase I get Combined Rosie n Alastor stuff again

Not Proofread!

Male!Overlord! Reader

Song listened to while writing this!

↓

♪ These two will have energy you "lack' these two are always bouncing around you and talking, to each other and you; impatiently awaiting an answer from you

♪ Rosie often coos at how rough and violent you are, saying you need to add 'sparkle' it at which you just shrug; nothing changes

♪ Alastor thinks your nature is— intriguing; you're very intimidating.. Not to him hells no! Everyone else; but he thinks you should do something special instead of just, mauling everyone who crosses you, not that he minds how you currently behave, it's very fun to watch

♪ Anytime you go out together Rosie is trying to convince you to join her and Alastor, you just wave her off, a polite "no thank you." And you sit on a couch alone. And watch them, if you're feeling generous you'll tap your foot to the songs while standing near them.

♪ Alastor is the one to try and usher you to sing with him; he says your voices "would sound delightful together" and jokingly pities you when you say you feel uncomfortable singing; doubting your own ability but he quickly assured you that you're gonna do great. He'll silently go off the walls if you agree.

♪ these two are almost constantly smiling, Alastor specifically.. Anyway— so whenever you crack even a small smile these two are looking at each other like "did you just catch that??" Often they'll even tease you on it.

♪ will verbally (and physically) defend you with their lives, in front of you and when you're not there. Anyone who dares speak ill of you in ear shot of them is gonna never hear the end of it or hear ever again at all! Depends what type of day they've had!

♪ walk with you in the middle of them, you have them both blabbering in your ears constantly, not that you mind; they wouldn't be seen with you constantly if you did.

♪ ask for your input on things, especially Rosie she will ask you every time "I did my hair differently, what do you think?". Alastor is the kinda guy to say "notice something?" Only for him to have his shoes polished and nothing else while you stand there quietly tweaking.

♪ Rosie always has her arm hooked with yours, like teenage girls in the city while she looks past you at Alastor and talking about their hottest new news.

♪ Alastor usually scans you to see how you're feeling, you're very stoic and hard to read..Rosie doesn't care she's smothering you even if you're about to punch the next sinner you see.

AAAAAAAA I hope this is what you hoped it'd be!!! LOVE U POOOKIEEE

[maxlarens]

oscar and 31?

31) doing a pinky swear

random but i listened to this and this dj set while writing this

It’s difficult to resist the lure of the music, the dance floor that churns and pulses at your back. The DJ cycles through euro-pop, 2000s anthems and countless club classics that make you itch to get up and dance, something tugging in your gut when you don't.

Max and Lando have already gone into the thick of it, leaving you and Oscar at the booth. And you've decided that you're not leaving Oscar. If he's not getting on the dance floor then you aren't either. Even if your leg is about to fall off from how much you've been tapping it to the beat and you keep tipping your head back to say oh, dude, I love this song.

He'd made some offhand comment the other day, when you and Lando first made these plans, something about how he was boring, of all things. How he wouldn't be any fun at a club. It's been eating at you since. The way he'd said it, not like it was something he came to on his own, but rather, like it was something someone had told him.

The absolute last thing Oscar Piastri is is boring.

You hate that he thinks he is, you hate that he thinks he needs to be a certain way to make you happy. To make anyone happy. And you certainly don't care if he doesn't want to dance at a club— no one's going to die if he doesn't, and you'll survive a few hours in the booth until Max tires of Lando and his boundless energy.

Across from you, Oscar's taking sips of his vodka pineapple. His pale cheeks have been steadily turning more red the more alcohol that he drinks, it's cute. You're turning your drink in circles, watching it leave condensation rings on the linoleum table. The DJ is playing a remix of Murder on the Dancefloor and you're about to tip your head back and groan oh my god I love this song,

but Oscar is laughing before the words can even leave your mouth.

"You love this song too?", he raises his very nice eyebrows at you, smiling that closed mouth polite cat smile everyone likes so much.

You sigh, laugh, then roll your eyes at yourself, "Yeah. Love it."

He smiles into his drink, it turns into something a little bittersweet after a moment of you watching him. You think of the sad way he'd twitched his nose the other day, while he was telling you he was boring. Without thinking, spurred on by the alcohol, you lean across the table and swat his hand with yours. But you don't move after, you just slip your fingers into the grooves of his knuckles.

"What are you thinking?"

He bites the inside of his bottom lip, shrugs, "Nothing important."

You're not convinced.

"Is this about you thinking you're boring, Oscar?" —he raises an eyebrow at you, one that says maybe, one that says go on— "Because you are not fucking boring, Piastri."

He laughs, but its critical, disbelieving. More of a scoff than a laugh, but he doesn't want you to catch on. He's trying to act like it's all fine. That's how he is— it's fine it's fine he says and he doesn't let anyone see that things hurt him. He's so good, so nice, so unwilling to make anyone else feel bad.

Positive, optimistic to a fault.

"You're not," you insist, pressing your fingertips into his knuckles.

He shrugs again, "I'm keeping you here. I know you want to go dance. You should go.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish, “Oscar. Please, I will live. Anyway, sometimes I want to spend time with you without Lando hanging around, y’know.”

Oscar snorts, sincerely this time, “Yeah, he’s—”

“Annoying,” you supply.

“I was going to say a pain.”

“Same thing.”

“Mm,” Oscar snickers, “S’pose so.”

Then,

“Are you sure you want to stay here with me?”

You slide your fingers down to his wrist, gently turning his arm around so it faces upward. His skin is smooth where you trace the lines in his palm. You're both quiet, looking down at your hands where they're intertwined. If you're honest, you've kind of forgotten why you did that— your thoughts feel loose, a bit disconnected. Oscar is warm and sweet and here. You just wanted to touch his hand you think. You trace a line up his ring finger without thinking.

"I'm sure," you say, a little breathless for no good reason.

"Promise."

"Huh?", you drift your gaze up to his.

Polite cat smile, he repeats, "Promise?", it's more of a question now.

You nod seriously, curling your fingers into a fist and sticking your pinky finger out, "I pinky promise, Oscar."

He does the same, lifting his hand up in offering. Your pinkies lock together, he squeezes tightly and you pull against him, like the tighter the promise is the more that you mean it.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Ok, here comes one word promt for bucktommy

Fake-dating

This was a cute one to write. Thank you 🩶

***

Hen and Chim and recently gotten back in contact with an old member of the 118, Tommy, and wanted to get everyone together for night at the bar.

It was a fun night. Maddie and Chim had left earlier to pick up Jee, but Hen and Karen were still showing up everyone on the dance floor, leaving Eddie and Buck at the table with Tommy.

Buck couldn’t get over just how fucking cool this guy was. He flew helicopters in the army, now helicopters and planes for the LAFD. He did Muay Thai, apparently had a car lift and mechanics pit in his garage.. He was a man.

He had tonnes in common with Eddie, too and Buck couldn’t help feel a ping of jealousy. Tommy had far more in common with Eddie than he ever did.

Tommy had been at the bar getting them drinks and talking to someone but pointing to their table. Buck instinctively waved back and immediately felt like an idiot. Tommy walked back to the table a little quickly and placed the drinks down.

“Okay this is going to sound weird I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“What do I get out of it?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, nothing because I was talking to Evan.” Buck felt an odd sensation in his stomach.

“Uh, me?” He said, eyebrows up.

“Him”? Eddie question.

“Yeah, he’s more my type.” He said and Buck didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Well I feel deeply rejected.” Eddie joked. Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I’ll explain everything later, but that guy at the bar is my ex, and he won’t leave me alone. So I said I was with someone and he asked who, and I panicked and I said you, thinking he’d leave me alone. But I was wrong and he wants to meet you and I’m sorry and I’ll pay for all your drinks the rest of the night if you pretend for the next few minutes.” He looked at Buck with pleading eyes. Somehow Buck couldn’t say no to them.

“Uh, sure.” He said. Tommys face morphed into a smile, with deep lines framing his eyes and Buck couldn’t help smiling back as they held eye contact.

“That guy is coming over.” Eddie informed them. Tommy took a seat next to Buck only a bit closer than before. He slid an arm behind him resting it against the top of the booth seat.

He was a few inches shorter than Tommy, with hair similar colour to Bucks but much shorter. He was built similarly to Buck too.

The man took a seat from a nearby table and placed at the end of theirs sitting down.

“Are you going to introduce us, T?’

“Shane, this is Evan.”

“Buck, everyone calls me Buck.” He said reaching forward and o shake Shane’s hand. When he sat back he could feel the warmth of Tommys arm on the back of his neck. A strange flush came through him.

“Oh and this is Eddie.”

“Hey, man.” Eddie shook his hand also.

Shane looked between Buck and Tommy. “So, how long have you been together?”

“6 months.” Tommy replied effortlessly.

“So not very long then.” Shane said in a hopeful tone.

“True, but when you know you know. Right babe?” He looked at Buck.

“Uh, yeah.” Buck agreed looking at Tommy. Tommy smiled at him and again Buck couldn’t help but smile back. There was something in the way that Tommy smiled that he couldn’t put his finger on .

“They’re honestly adorable.” Eddie chimed in “Can’t get enough of each other.” Buck saw the grin and amused look on Eddie’s face. He was clearly enjoying this.

The music changed from upbeat to slow and couples began moving closer to one another on the dance floor.

“Hey don’t you guys love this song?” Eddie said. “You should totally dance to it.” Buck threw Eddie a look but he just grinned in response.

“We’re enjoying our drinks for now.” Tommy replied.

“Oh I can keep an eye on those. Don’t worry.” Eddie said back.

“What’s the matter?” Shane asked. “You love to dance. I remember you-“

“Absolutely.” Tommy interrupted. “We’d love to dance. Wouldn’t we Evan?” He looked at him and tapped his foot against his under the table hoping that he would agree.

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” Tommy left the booth, followed by Buck and walked over to where other couples were dancing. Buck looked back at Eddie who was still grinning widely. Son of bitch was loving every moment of it.

Buck stood in front of Tommy awkwardly. All the other people dancing had their arms around each other and he had no clue what to do.

“You’ve never danced with a man before have you?” Tommy asked sensing his awkwardness

“Is it that obvious?” He replied.

“Luckily for you I’m an aficionado. Here..” he took Bucks arms and put them around his shoulders then put his own around Bucks waist. “Is this okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Listen, Evan, I know I asked for your help but really if you’re uncomfortable we can stop.” Tommy told him. His expression was open and gentle and Buck knew that he meant what he said.

“It’s fine. Really.” He said and they began to sway slowly.

“Thank you, by the way. You’re really saving my ass.”

“What’s the deal with him? Was it a bad break up?” Buck asked.

“He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, just.. kind of obsessed with me.” He said.

“Isn’t it a good thing to be obsessed with your significant other?” Buck asked.

“There’s a limit. He wanted to be with me all the time. And I mean all the time. Got to the point I couldn’t use the bathroom without him knocking on the door to talk to me.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I love spending time with the person I’m with but I do like time to spend with my friends or just myself. In the end I had to break it off and as you can see he still hasn’t moved on. I’m hoping he’ll see us dancing and it’ll click for him they we’re over.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Asked Buck.

“I’ve always wanted a Vegas wedding. You in?.” Tommy joked and Buck laughed loudly.

“Well, I’m easy to live with and I’m a pretty good cook.” Buck said back.

“Good to know.” Tommy smiled. Buck felt that flush of heat again as Tommy looked at him. He broke eye contact and looked over at their table. Shane was staring intently at them, meanwhile Eddie was leaning over whispering to Hen and Karen, still grinning and pointing at them. Buck was never going to live this down.

“He’s still watching by the way.” Buck told him. Tommy sighed, annoyed. Buck took the initiative and moved closer, tightening his arms around Tommys neck. The move surprised Tommy and he waited a beat before wrapping his arms further around Bucks waist.

“So what about you. Any significant other?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, no. My last ex was also a little obsessive. Not about me, though. At least not directly. All she wanted to talk about the fact that I died.” Tommy looked at him confused.

“I have questions...”

Buck laughed. “Short version is I was struck by lightning a few months ago. My heart stopped for over 3 minutes. Which as you can imagine is a very satisfying subject to a Death Doula.”

“Shit. Are you okay? No long term effects?” Tommy asked with a genuine tone of concern.

“I did have some pretty awesome math skills for a while,” he laughed “but sadly they went away quite quickly. But otherwise I’m totally fine.”

“Good.” He smiled. His smile was absolutely gorgeous, Buck finally admitted to himself. “So, a death doula?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t date someone I meet on a call.”

“Saving someone’s life and then dating them never turns out the way you expect.” Tommy agreed.

“I learned that lesson third time around.”

“And yet they’re always so grateful!” He joked. “He still watching?” Buck looked over to see Shane still sat at the table watching them, but Eddie, Hen and Karen walking, coats and bags in hand, toward the exit. Eddie caught his eye and winked as they left the bar.

He didn’t tell Tommy they’d left. Something inside him didn’t want to. He was enjoying dancing with Tommy and telling him might end it.

“He’s still watching us intently.” Buck said.

“At this point he might have to catch us screwing in the bathroom.” Tommy said with a chuckle. Bucks face immediately flushed. He knew Tommy was joking but.. Something was twisting in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling but it was pleasant. More than pleasant.

“I don’t know about that, but what about this..”

It could have been a moment of madness, or weakness, or some deep rooted part of himself he wasn’t aware of, or hell, maybe the 2 beers he’d drank were laced with something that he wasn’t aware of.. but whatever the reason, without thinking about it, Buck leaned in and pressed his lips against Tommy’s.

Tommy’s breath hitched at the surprise. As Buck pulled his lips away and opened his eyes to Tommy’s looking intently at him, he felt a warm explosion in his chest—one he wasn’t expecting. Then the realisation kicked in at what he’d just done.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..”

He felt embarrassed. Tommy probably didn’t like him that way, and he wasn’t sure of his own feelings either. Tommy did something to him, that he was sure of, now. Earlier he’d thought it was jealousy over Eddie but now he couldn’t deny the feeling in his chest at sharing a kiss with him. He liked it.

Tommy could see he was having some kind of internal debate and ended it as he placed fingers under Bucks jaw, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was firmer and longer.

Without second guessing it Buck opened his mouth against Tommy’s and deepened the kiss. Buck didn’t know why he was doing it or why he liked it—he would spend the next few days unpacking it and would come to a rather life changing revelation— but standing in the bar with his arms around Tommy, feeling his warm tongue against his, that tasted of the IPA’s he’d been drinking, all he knew was that he wanted it.

Tommy’s hands were travelling up and down his back leaving goosebumps in their wake. Buck was holding on to Tommy’s neck for dear life for fear that if he let go, the kiss would end and this feeling he had that was snaking its away in and around his organs would go away.

“I have to say that was unexpected.” Tommy said when the kiss did eventually end. Buck tilted his head and looked up at him bashfully.

“I think your ex is gone.” Buck said. They both looked around and couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Good.” Tommy said looking at Buck. “So, what are you doing Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“You free?”

[itsnathateasy]

"you're a good kid"

word count: 1k warnings: age gap, angst a/n: a story nobody asked for but i had to do it because i'm currently very upset with mr erwin smith lmao// if you know who the artist of the smoking erwin picture, lmk so i can credit them!

“You don’t really mean this...”

You were dumbfounded by your boyfriend’s words. Or who you thought was your boyfriend until a while ago at least.

“I mean this, y/n. I’m far too old for you and up until now, we’re only facing difficulties. This can’t go on any-”

“Oh so because things are difficult you’re tapping out? This is so not like you to say, Erwin.”

“I’m not tapping out, y/n, I’m doing you a solid. Have you not noticed how everyone is giving us weird looks in the office? And they have been doing so for months! I’m your supervisor, we shouldn’t have this kind of attachment anyway...”

“Attachment? Erwin, we’ve been dating for four months now! The way couples do? And what solid, what are you talking about? Just say you’re bored or that you found someone new, enough with the lies!”

Erwin’s stern expression and calm voice was in complete contrast with your current state. You felt your heart beating faster with each passing second, the more you yelled at him, the harder it pounded inside your chest.

“I’m not lying to you, y/n! You should be with someone your age. I’m saving you from the embarrassment of dating someone twice your age and I’m saving the both of us from getting fired. Is that what you want? After all you’ve been through?”

“I thought it was worth it if we were in it together! Clearly, I was mistaken.”

You saw his shoulders drop at your words, still not approaching you. He remained across from you on the other side of the kitchen table.

“Y/n, don’t make this any more difficult for me...”

“I won’t, Mr Smith. You’ve made your point clear.”

Your fists were tight knots as you moved around Erwin’s apartment and gathered the few belongings you kept there and put them in your bag one by one. A comb, a spare t-shirt, your phone charger. There was nothing left for you to say. This is what he wanted and hell would freeze over before he changed his mind.

“I want to sort it out, y/n.”

Erwin broke the silence as he walked closer to where you were sat on the edge of the sofa, fixing your tights before putting on your boots. His hand was travelling back and forth on the back of the couch.

“Nothing to sort out Mr Smith. I’ll be on my way in only a few minutes.”

“Please, y/n… Listen to me...”

His pleading eyes made you reconsider. Maybe you read too much into your argument. What if he didn’t really want to break up with and you misunderstood everything in the heat of the moment?

“You’ve five minutes Mr Smith.”

“Please, don’t call me that…”

He said as he took a sit on the sofa right next to you, your thighs touching.

“Listen… You’re in your twenties and I’m well over forty. This is only getting worse from now on. You should be having fun with your friends, getting drunk and dancing, dumping boyfriend after boyfriend each week… Not making dinner for me and having those “at home” dates or whatever you call them… You’re still a kid to my eyes, y/n. A kid who isn’t living her life to the fullest!”

“I’m still a kid to you? Then what have these past months been to you? Because I’ve made it abundantly clear I want to spend my life this way. With you. I won’t regret not attending a party, but I’ll regret it forever if I fumble you!”

“You’re not fumbling me, y/n. I’m breaking up with you, I’m setting you free. You’re such a talented, beautiful person. You’ll find love again.”

“But I love you, Erwin? Has dementia taken over your brain? Why would you think I don’t want to be with you? Why break up with me if you love me?”

Erwin held your hands in his, pressing them together softly. He stared down at the bundle that was your palms and sighed before looking up at you.

“I’m doing this because I love you, y/n. You’re missing out in life if you stay with me. Don’t you see it?”

Tears began to swell up in your eyes as you realised his words were final. You felt your palms start trembling the moment you pulled them away from his, feeling freezing instantly at the loss of his touch.

“And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

Your voice was seconds before breaking, but you somehow managed to hold it together. Even if it was just for a second longer. Erwin cupped one of your cheeks with his hand, his thumb softly caressing the place right beneath your eye.

“You’re a good kid, y/n. You’ll figure it out. You’ve all the time in the world.”

Flinching at his statement, you pulled away from him and got up, one of your boot laces left untied. After hastily throwing on your jacket and grabbing your bag from the floor, you headed for the door, quickly turning the handle.

The sound of the door slamming behind you felt like music to your ringing ears. You put a hand on the wall, preventing yourself from falling off and giving yourself some time to steady your feet. You took a breath in, held it for five, four, three, two, one, then exhale, then inhale again, steadying yourself as best as possible.

You didn’t know how long it’d been of you lingering just outside Erwin’s doorstep, when the door swung open.

“I never heard your footsteps leaving.”

You didn’t respond, only avoided his gaze by staring at the stairs that’d eventually lead you downstairs, then out of the building.

“Are you dizzy? How long have you been like this?”

“Fuck you, Erwin! Go back inside!”

Uttering those words gave you the stability and courage you needed to finally walk away. Your boot lace was still hanging sloppily on the floor but you felt in control. A single lace couldn’t hold you back now.

“Fuck me yourself, y/n, you coward!”

They didn’t break up after all.

[water-lemon-alex]

the night before the finale.

a pre-s1e17 oneshot revolving around the season one finalists.

you have reached the end of the current chapter, but what about the one before it? what happened on the night before one of them went home a millionaire?

the penultimate episode of the first season has just finished airing, and the sun begun to set.

the show once had sixteen contestants fighting for the million-dollar prize, and each night they sleep, there were one (or two) less contestants by their side.

now, there were only two. two contestants.

one who only won a few couple challenges to get this far into the game, and another who kept her true persona a secret just for people to like her more.

both of them have just lost their closest allies in the competition. now, they’re on their own.

together.

the two finalists sat atop a hill, the one where all of them used to rest on. the sun is no longer visible from the sky— only the light of the moon reflected from it. the sky became dark, with a million tiny white diamonds in the sky.

the lettuce-filled “friend” sneakily tapped the glass of her orange competitor.

“hey! hey, oj!”

but the orange beverage didn’t respond. he was sulking over the loss of his best friend, who he thought was going to make the finals with him. now, he’s stuck with some half-witted mexican food.

then he finally takes a deep breath, and slowly turns to her with a sad look on his face.

“not now, taco. can’t you see i’m disappointed? i thought that i could make it with him to the finals! now i’m stuck with you…”

she clears her throat to get in character with her false persona.

“well— i lost my best friend, too! i never thought he would get voted off just when we’re this close to winning!”

“so he voted out him just so that you could advance…”

this argument is unnecessary. you can’t change something that already happened.

“…ugh, forget it. the finale’s tomorrow, and i need to get enough sleep to prepare for the final challenge.”

but both of them knew he wasn’t gonna sleep anytime soon. not with all the pressure from the game. it’s the finale, after all.

“…let me guess, you can’t sleep too.”

she nodded.

the hard-shelled contestant couldn’t sleep at all. she was still beaming with energy! (on the outside.) due to her high stamina, her plan was to tire him out before the finale.

“come on, we never got a chance to hang out at all! the moon’s so pretty tonight! let’s do something fun to tire ourselves out!”

…okay, this was supposed to be a game strategy, but in all sincerity, she actually does want to spend time with him, even just one time. as a treat.

this might be the first and last chance she’ll ever get. win or lose, she might never get to hang out with him again.

but whatever, it’s not like she became fond of anyone in the game at all or anything.

“what do you suggest we should do?”

“well, i dunno. have a little walk while lookin’ at the stars? we never really got to. because of the contest!”

he let out a deep sigh.

“…well, okay. maybe just once.”

the two started going down the hill to the direction of the very sixty-foot cliff where they once stood two years ago, when the show first aired.

taco started sprinting to the cliff, so much that oj couldn’t keep up without losing his balance and his juice in the process.

“h-hey! wait up! i thought we were going for a walk!”

“well, not anymooore-!”

she let out a hysterical laugh.

they finally stopped running when they finally reached the end of the cliff.

“ahaha… we’re heeeere-!”

with her left foot, she points at a certain something from the cliff. he thought she was gonna push him off.

“are you crazy!? are you going to push me off the cliff!?”

“not at all-! just look over there!”

all of those obstacles beyond the cliff weren’t even there before. looks like the host is preparing something big for the final contest.

“oooooh, that looks like the final challenge! so cool!”

“it looks like it’s still a work in progress.”

“well, fugget about it! let’s dance!”

“dance? seriously? with the only one left who’s standing in the way between you and the million? ha! let’s be honest right now. you don’t even have arms!”

“um, yeah i do!”

she unsheathes the arms she hid in her shell for so long, with the exception of a few instances where she actually used them.

“happy now?”

“you hid these the entire time!? you could’ve used these to your advantage!”

“oh, don’t worry! i won’t try to use them in the finale! i’ll try to go easy on you, because we both know i’m gonna win! easy!”

the orange glass teases back.

“haha, oh no, you’re not! because the million belongs to me!”

after a little while, she starts to reach her hand onto his.

“so? let’s go?”

“y-yeah! shall we?”

the energetic one got ahead of herself and unknowingly dragged their feet across the ground.

they turn, and they may tumble, but they both seem to enjoy themselves.

they’ll be rivals tomorrow, sure. but they are fellow competitors still in the running tonight. the only ones left, at that.

even if this bond will come to an end once all of this is over, even if the prize can’t go to the both of them,

they’ll enjoy the little time that they’ve had.

and as promised, they danced until they could barely catch their breath. (they didn’t exactly “dance”. none of them know how to dance! all they did was spin around in circles, hand in hand.)

now, they sat on the exact same spot as before. on the top of the hill.

“wow, that was…”

“crazy?”

“yeah, crazy! did you decide to do all this just to make me feel better after i lost paper?”

“well, i did this to make myself better after losing pickle! hahaha…”

“i guess we aren’t really so different. even if you’re kinda dumb sometimes, you did help me a few times with your lemons.”

“and you helped me win the boxing contest because of how fragile you are!”

“uh, correction! i didn’t help you win, i was just completely defenseless from those darn lemons…”

they begin to tease at each other again.

“i’m still riiiight-!”

“no, you’re nooot-!”

both of them let out some chuckles once again. their eyes are becoming heavy, and they have a big day tomorrow.

“well, good night, taco! i’m going to beat you tomorrow!”

“no! i’m gonna win! hahaha!”

the glass of juice has fallen fast asleep. sleeping upright. i guess that’s just how he sleeps just so that his juice wouldn’t spill all over the place.

before she closed her eyes, she hides her arms within her shell once more, gazed upon his resting face, and let out her true smile. a rather menacing smile, indeed— but her feelings were more… sincere.

for the first and the last time, she whispered,

“good night, oj.”

[live-laugh-legolas]

Hi it’s me again 💀 anyway my request—

The fellowship reacting to reader dancing and singing on a table then asking them to join them up there?

So fun! Idk if I need to put a warning but I imagined these being in a pub so alcohol is mentioned (please drink responsibly)

Tabletop Dancing

Aragorn:

-He watches with a smile behind his cup of ale

-Kinda like the smile he gives when he sees Merry and Pippin high as hell in Isengard

-He is very amused and loves watching you have fun

-But he was not expecting to be asked to join

-I don’t think he is much of a dancer and although he does sing, he doesn’t necessarily do it in a pub sort of fashion

-He won’t get up on the table with you

-But he will hold your hand and walk around the table with you

-Another reason he won’t get on the tables is because he is too tall

-I’m pretty sure he is canonically 6’6

-His head would bust a hole through the ceiling and scare the living shit out of the people in the room above

Legolas:

-He’s a little shocked at first

-Elves party different from other races; and this seems a bit… uncivilized

-But he is nothing if not open to learning new cultures and traditions

-He finds it very fun to engage in; much to his surprise

-I think movie Legolas may not want to get on the tables; but if we are going by the books then he absolutely will jump up and will walk around on the backs of chairs because he’s a show off

-He does fancy twirls with you

-He possibly accidentally throws you off the table doing this

Gimli:

-Ok; he is fully accepting of this and has no hesitation to join

-Dwarves love a good party, and especially this dwarf

-Even more so if he’s had a bit to drink

-Maybe don’t pull him up on the tables though

-Dwarves may be short, but they are solid and should not jump on tables if you want to have a table afterwards

-He will sing his heart out with you

-He is so loud it drowns you out but that’s alright

Boromir:

-He is clapping and singing along the whole time

-Like Aragorn he also is a bit too tall for table dancing

-However he is not deterred once he’s drunk enough

-He’s definitely a light weight though so it’s doesn’t take long for him to get up there and belting his heart out with you

-He steals the show if we are honest

-He will fall off the table

-Every time

Frodo:

-We know this Hobbit will get up on a table to perform

-He’s not shy to having a good time

-He is happy to be pulled up onto the tables with you to dance

-He definitely kicks a few cups over because he’s a little clumsy

-But no one can even be mad at him because he is so cute

-Seriously that smile is even worse than puppy eyes

Sam:

-Probably the hardest to convince to join you

-He’s just not one to enjoy being the center of attention

-But he loves watching you having a great time

-He will need to be a few drinks in to join

-He is more worried about you falling off the table

-He will kind of dance around the table but really he’s just there in case you trip

-He will be singing whatever song you were singing the next day

-It is stuck in his head and he’s much more open to singing when not in a crowd

Merry:

-It all depends on his mood

-He doesn’t want to say no to you and he does enjoy a good table tap dance

-However he also likes just observing the joyful scene

-He will sing duets with you

-He is less involved as Pippin though, and instead favors hyping you up over putting on his own show

-He joins in with cheers to call and response type songs

Pippin:

-You don’t even have to ask

-He’s already up there with you

-Every table is this a stage for this hobbit

-You two are absolute menaces but the life of the party so it evens out

-Full choreography

-You always get a standing ovation

-This is like a weekly thing for you two at least

-You guys have loyal fans

Gandalf:

-This old wizard loves a good jig

-At first I was thinking he would never get up on the tables

-But then I realized he absolutely would if he was drunk enough

-Idk why but I have decided he knows how to break dance but will complain about how sore he is the next day

-He will deny ever dancing on the tables or belting out songs

-He’s too old and dignified for that…

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I hope this is a good enough response. I realize this isn’t really their reaction to the reader as much as just how they join in lol.

[pedrisbanana]

Original request:

Reader as Gavi’s gf cheating with Pedri pre match smut pls

Warning : It’s a cheating trope.

————————————————————————

You just can’t resist Barcelona‘s 8…

Enjoy 🍌

Pedri‘s Whore

„Kiss for good luck ?" Gavi smiled brightly, finger tapping his cheek. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, leaving a bright pink stain.

„Oh." You wiped his cheek with your finger, trying to get the lipstick off. „Now it looks like you blushed"

It was just another matchday. You always greeted your boyfriend before leaving off to the stands. Sometimes he even dedicated a goal to you.

Your boyfriend took your hand and kissed it.

„Don't worry about it." he paused. „I have to go. Meet me here after?"

„Yeah sure. Good Luck." you wished and watched the brunette follow the others towards the tunnel.

When the hallway was empty, the cool air made you wrap your hands around your torso. It usually wasn’t this chilly in this part of Camp Nou.

„No kiss for me, Princesa?" his lips were hot against your ear. You turned your head to the side and before you could reply, he captured your lips into a feverish kiss.

The soft material of his glove covered fingertips danced on your cheekbone. His tongue licked at your bottom lip, releasing you.

Your whole body was on fire, the much needed cardigan too hot all of a sudden.

„Pedri" your voice was a whisper. His presence made you nervous. „I told you... Gavi... a mistake"

Pedri was Gavi’s best friend and teammate. You shouldn’t betray your beloved like this. Not again.

The midfielder admired your face. His whole being pulled you in like a spell. The forbidden fruit.

„If it was a mistake, then why can't you look at me when you're talking, hm ?" his hand forced you to look at him, by grabbing your chin.

„You're so sexy, getting all dressed up for your boyfriend." Pedri's other hand followed the curve of your waist to cup your ass over your denim skirt. He pressed his nose to your hair, taking in your smell.

This turned you on more than it should. You panties were soaked.

„Don't you have a match to play ?" you put all your leftover confidence into this question, stepping out of his grasp.

Pedri laughed. „You want me to go out there like this?" he pointed to his very obvious erection, the golden shorts stretched out. „Gavi's gonna ask me what happened and should I say that it's his girlfriend's fault? Do you want me to tell him about us?"

You cursed. He had a point, but you also knew that he was playing with you. And he won.

So you closed the gap between you two and sunk too your knees, praying that no one would come looking for Pedri.

He smirked, taking your hair into a ponytail, enjoying how easy you gave into him.

Before pulling on the waistband of his shorts, you decided to tease him by pulling his jersey up to reveal a little bit of his V line. You pressed a kiss right above his shorts.

Pedri hissed. „Don't tease, mi amor. I have a match to play now."

Right. You needed to hurry. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you freed his needy cock.

Licking from his balls to his reddened tip, you made him groan out, before wrapping your lips around him. You used your hands to stimulate what your mouth couldn't reach.

Pedri liked it rough and fast. His thrusts joined the rhythm of your mouth.

To bring him over the edge, you looked up and batted your lashes.

„I said no teasing." Pedri moaned and pulled you from his erection. Spit and precum ran from your swollen lips.

He dragged you up and pinned you against the wall. His hand made you arch against the wall.

„I guess the match has to wait, have fun explaining that to your boyfriend."

His voice made you rub your thighs together. His gloved hands pushed the denim of your skirt over your ass. He pushed your panties to the side and thrust inside of you with one harsh push.

You screamed his name, resulting in Pedri putting a hand over your mouth. Gavi had always used a condom, but now Pedri fucked you raw, your pussy clenching around him with every thrust.

„Rub your clit, amor, make yourself come on my cock" the midfielder encouraged you, his own release close.

You did as he instructed and pleasured yourself, hips meeting his thrusts. The knot in your stomach tightened. Pedri whispered praises in spanish to you, bringing you closer to the edge.

Biting down on his hand when you came, you hoped you didn't make a mess on his jersey. Pedri slapped your ass cheek hard when he came, pumping his seed deep inside you.

The feeling made you clench, milking him for every last drop. When he pulled out, Pedri wiped your folds with his fingers, pushing his cum back inside you.

He neatly covered your private parts with your panties again, fixing the denim as well.

Regaining your breath and composure, you straightened your back and turned to the footballer.

Pedri fixed himself, his right glove being wet from your mixed arousal, but he didn't seem to care.

„You should fix your lipstick... and your hair. You look like a whore, but that's what you are... my little whore. Poor Gavi." he said looking you straight in the eyes.

You stared back at him with a hurt expression, knowing he was right.

Pedri raised his brow and brushed past you. Swallowing the tears, you went looking for a bathroom.

After fixing yourself and finding your seat, you could finally enjoy the match. In the 74' Pedri scored a goal, assisted by none other than Gavi.

You cheered as the boys celebrated together. Both doing the signature Pedri Potter celebration.

But before Pedri went back to his teammates, he pulled up the hem of his jersey, revealing the lipstick stain you left earlier on his defined V line. He stuck his tongue out and winked at you.

You froze. He wanted to remind you.

You may be Gavi's girlfriend, but more so were you Pedri's whore.

A/N: The title inspired by my lovely @pedriswife . I hope you don’t mind me tagging you.

We‘re all just Pedri‘s Whores. Periodt.

Also no. Pedri didn’t take off the gloves before playing.

Lots of kisses 💕

[yuurei20]

Epel Facts Part 32: Epel, Jamil and Flight

Jamil and Epel largely overlap in a vignette where Epel is struggling with how to waltz.

At first Epel claims that he is doesn’t see the appeal of “these highfalutin dances" but after Jamil offers to show him how it’s done he confesses that he was actually jealous of how much fun the others were having while he struggled.

(This comes up again in Book 5, when Epel confesses to looking down on other people he who would prioritize things that he did not understand.)

Jamil shows Epel how to do more complex waltz moves and Epel is delighted.

Epel and Jamil take turns both insisting that it is actually the other person who should take credit for inspiring other people on the dance floor and Epel says that he finally understands why people enjoy waltzing.

Jamil says that he is just glad that Epel’s Halloween didn’t end on a sour note, and they wish one another Happy Halloween.

Jamil has a voice line about frightening Epel by tapping him on the shoulder, and he insists that he was not actively trying to scare him.

Epel buys Jamil a dessert in the cafeteria for his birthday (despite Jamil’s protests) and Jamil says he did not expect Epel to be so stubborn.

While Epel says that he finds the curriculum at NRC to be difficult, “my grades aren’t the best,” he is not very good at magical analysis, he has never been a good student and messes up a lot, he is at the top of his class in flight.

He explains that this is from watching his grandmother and great-grandmother harvest apples from the tops of trees on brooms: “I was always jumping on a broomstick and pretending to zoom up to help them. But then one day, my little ritual became reality—I actually pulled it off and flew!”

He would also help at home by chasing after crows on his broom at yelling, to keep them from eating their crops.

Leona has called Epel the best first-year flier in the Spelldrive club (there is a line on EN where this was mistranslated into “Epel’s flying prowess is even greater than Leona’s,” which is not true).

Epel promises Ace flying lessons for his birthday at Ace’s request.

[rypnami]

Yule Ball Headcanons

part 2 of this post for @leaping-toadstool-caps / @thats-a-mushroom ‘s yule ball thingie. thanks again for this idea! i'm having quite a bit of fun ehehe.

Phillip

nervous wreck. he put on about a gallon too much of cologne, but he's glad he did because it'll cover up the fact that he's sweating like hell

instant nosebleed when he sees odysseus. my silly little loverboy

sweaty palms sweaty palms this boy has SWEATY PALMS

constantly worrying that he's going to step on someone's feet, even though he's definitely the most coordinated out of his siblings (most likely to stomp someone's feet is definitely leander dont @ me)

has a flask of firewhisky on him (for him and ody to share ofc) but ends up needing to give some to leander, who looks like he's going to faint where he stands (don't tell their mum)

ends up drinking a biiiit too much, but he's a fun drunk tbh. lots of dancing and giggling.

Callum

another nervous wreck. he's almost sick twice in the hours leading up to it and nearly doesn't go at all

debates if he should wear his glasses or not. ends up wearing them because, well... he'd like to be able to see his date lol

fixing his clothes CONSTANTLY. NO wrinkles to be seen EVER. he has compulsory anxiety poor bb

he taps his foot when he's anxious and so he's tapping it like the entire time the ball is happening. covers it up by saying he's tapping it to the music

date will not go without ANYTHING. thirsty? he'll run and grab a butterbeer for her. hungry? he has an entire assortment of snacks ready to go. pathological people pleaser indeed

Leander

feels like a dork in his outfit (actually looks great bc of course he does)

very embarrassed about the fact that he was too shy to ask his crush to go with him, even more embarrassed that phillip is making him go without a date

'do i have to talk to people'

would rather be in the corner eating chocolate frogs than have everyone notice he's alone

will EVENTUALLY get the courage to ask his crush to dance at the end of the night and almost explodes when they accept (ykyk)

was super anxious about looking like a fool even though for the weeks leading up to the ball he was learning how to dance (and yes asked his mum to teach him)

gets a kiss as the dance ends, almost dies on the spot (and continuously replays the memory for DAYS after)

[luxheroica]

I wrote Wyll/Karlach, inspired by this art. I have been shipping them hard for months and knew I needed to contribute to the ship in some way. Also on AO3.

Tonight the camp is drunk on success and copious amounts of wine. There is still hardship and danger on the road ahead, not least for those who still bear the tadpoles in their heads. For tonight the goblins are gone and the druids ritual halted, the wine is sweet and the fire bright and that is enough to banish thoughts of darkness ahead. 

The bard Alfira has struck up a string of country dances on her lute, the kind of songs played at festivals and weddings for all to join. Wyll, in good humor and more than incidentally tipsy, joins the first one– a circle dance that has him linking arms with Lia on his left and Zorru on his right as they careen faster and faster around the roaring bonfire. 

There is something liberatory about dancing among the tieflings. None of them stare at his horns (still heavy on his head) or his strange eyes, instead taking them in stride. 

Wyll is the only one among the group that he has privately begun to think of as ‘companions’ to join the dance. Tav snuck off some time ago to find a private tent with Gale. Astarion is skulking around somewhere with a bottle of wine. Lae’zel scorned the idea of any revelry and has gone to bed, and Shadowheart in rare sympatico with the gith has also retired early. 

He is surprised not to see Karlach among the party– until he turns and sees her at the edge of the firelight, drinking out of a flask and watching the dancing, her feet tapping along with the music. 

The song comes to an end with a repetition that is so fast it nearly has all of them tripping over their own feet. Wyll has to catch his breath when at last the lute sings out its last note, and the gathered tieflings break out in applause. 

He excuses himself from the fireside and finds Karlach, who tips her drink at him and nods when he approaches. 

“You don’t wish to join the dancing?”

“Oh, ah,” Karlach shifts on her feet. She’s always in motion, he’s noticed, whether she’s fidgeting or pacing around the camp. “I don’t really feel like setting anybody on fire tonight. Plus I don’t know any of the dances.” As if sensing she’s brought the mood down she grins at Wyll. “You looked like you were having fun though.” 

“It was quite fun,” Wyll says, eyeing Karlach, who is watching the firelight circle with half an eye. “Most of these dances don’t have complicated steps– they’re easy to learn, if you follow what everyone else is doing you’re more than halfway there.” 

“Doesn’t solve the problem of me turning that whole line dance into kindling.” 

She’s keeping her tone light, joking and grinning, like she doesn’t really care that she can’t ever touch anyone without harming them. 

Wyll follows her lead in this. “I’ve got a nice sturdy pair of leather gloves,” he cajoles, pushing her just a little. “And Mizora’s present should make me at least a little resistant to infernal fire.” 

Karlach grins again, softening a little this time. “Don’t worry about me, soldier– I’m all left feet, you get me out there I’ll just careen into everything. Get out there and enjoy yourself.” 

Wyll doesn’t believe that– well, he does believe the part about her careening, she seems like the type to careen– but he doesn’t believe that she truly wants him to leave her to go enjoy dancing. Karlach puts up a good front, but were he in her shoes he would want nothing more than the simple things that had been so long denied him. 

He fishes in his pouch and draws out his pair of sturdy leather gloves which he slides over his hands, like a courtier drawing on his silk gloves so that he might offer a hand to a lady, then bends at the waist in his very best courtly bow. That it is a little out of practice he thinks she will forgive, especially when an irrepressible laugh burbles up out of her. 

Wyll winks, and Karlach laughs again. 

“Well, my lady?” Wyll asks. “May I have this dance.” 

She’s grinning truthfully now, as she takes his hand. There’s a bit of heat, like he might feel pulling a pan from the oven, but it’s shielded by the leather. “You may,” Karlach says, a laugh still at the back of her throat. 

Wyll pulls her towards the firelight. Careful to give her enough space that any careening won’t be a danger, but still within the flickering orange glow of it. A few of the tieflings look at them and grin when they join. There’s a new tune starting up– he knows this one, a sprightly hop meant to be danced with a single partner. 

“This one isn’t complicated, just follow my steps,” Wyll murmurs to Karlach as he begins twirling her around the fire. At first she is clumsy, all left feet as she said, but after a few turns she starts to anticipate the little skip-hop on the third beat. Wyll smiles. “There, you’re getting it.” 

Karlach shakes her head, still grinning. “You’re playing with fire, you know that right?” 

Wyll meets her eyes. Grins right back. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He sends her out in a spin, and her laugh echoes all the way to the sky above. 

They whirl around the bonfire, until the flames become embers and the music slows and they all at last stumble off drunk and sleepy to bed. Wyll’s thick leather gloves are covered in scorch marks, but he considers it worth the sacrifice to see Karlach’s soft smile when at last the dancing finishes for the night. 

There will be danger on the morrow, but for tonight his heart is warm. 

[riddles-n-games]

You know what we’ve been really missing out on? A dance headcanon. It may have crossed your mind at some point or you have never thought of it, but trust me you actually have, so here you go and you’re welcome.

We’ve certainly gotten sprinkles (read: karaoke scene, I mean, we were about to get FED and bam Grayson pity party) of such things throughout the series but not in any outright way as is the case with many of the things that could give us more background on the Hawthorne brothers. (Why you holding out on us JLB??? Huh?!) Anyways, here. Read.

Nash-He does line dancing, I mean, you should have seen that one coming. He's basically the country star of his family and he owns it to the fullest; he's literally one of Taylor Swift's back up dancers for goodness' sake. Nash's favorite version of line dance is square dancing and being the sweetheart he is, he will go to retirement homes on dance nights and be one of the choreographers or partners to help the old folks who want to dance. Of course, when there's a festival, that's when he really gets down. But, this might surprise you; he's also had a stint with hip hop and he's pretty darn good at it. He can do the dougie for sure. In fact, he got so good at hip hop that he also started adding his own style to it and gave it his country flare at freestyle competitions (Jamie and Xander's minds were blown, at first, before the big brother cool wore off that is but they were still impressed🤭).

Grayson-All of them learned how to do ballroom dancing (mainly waltz) but someone had to be the best of them, too. Enter Grayson Hawthorne. He is certainly the go-to brother for these types of dances but he excels at tango and waltz which also give him his greatest enjoyment. Certainly, at school events, he was always sought after during the slow songs and was always leading man for the school's ballroom team. It was the one chance the ladies were allowed to swoon without a certain redhead ruining everything. Though he competed nationally and worldwide, he preferred the simple entry level competitions for the sake of the peace. It was also more fun. He also challenged himself by learning flamenco and he was enamored by it, loving the fast steps and quick changes from one thing to another. However, his grandfather wanted him to push it further since he was already pursuing the dance so he wanted him to do competitions and as much as he put his heart and soul into it, Gray hated doing competitions when he wanted to do this for fun. After his grandfather died, he quit comps and stopped dancing flamenco for a while but his brothers (read: Xander) have been encouraging him to take it up again as a fun hobby. He's been warming up to the idea.

Jameson-Should it really come as a surprise that this boy can tap dance? Because, yes, he can and he is damn proud of it. It’s a favorite party trick of his to pull on the dance floor or in the middle of the club and he’s always tearing it up. He also loves Irish stepdance and after watching the famous Riverdance live, Jameson was obsessed. That was how he and Xander ended up being trained by the very Riverdance company itself and they trained for two years until Xan no longer expressed interest but Jamie got good enough that he even went on tour with them. Also, he's been expanding his repertoire with street dancing, mambo, and most recently disco due to a certain someone's obsession with the 70s.

Xander-Despite Gray being the undisputed king of ballroom in the family, his youngest brother still takes to the swing better than anyone. He has been the most enthusiastic about it and loves the energy which matches him well in every aspect of the dance. Unlike his brother, competing never really bothered him and this is actually one of the things that he gets him into a perfectionist complex. He was a junior world champ on two occasions and now is teaching Max how to do it. On the more casual side of casual side of things, he also knows how to shag which is one of his favorite things to do on little dates with Maxine when they aren't going anywhere. And, of course, being the most sporadic of his brothers, Xander always shocks people when he tells them he also has done ballet. He never got to become a principal dancer as a junior dancer but he did get to do a few pas de deux and was a soloist when he was with the Texas Ballet Theater. His favorite ballets are The Nutcracker and Don Quixote; he appreciates Swan Lake but hates the unhappy versions.

[dlstmxkakwldrlarchive]

Onew Hola Fan concert Day II Recap

After he sang the two opening songs (Hola! and Maestro) he told jjinggus that he talks a lot these days and to not feel bad and sit if they feel tired during his ment. He added that normally, fanmeets have mcs, but he wanted to be closer with jjinggus

He talked about a bit about the songs he sang and explained that while he was writing maestro, he thought about a little fish that could move the entire ocean without struggling much. He said that 'Maestro' is about having fun freely.

For these fancons, kyung ah (the bassist that participated until now in festivals and live clips with onew) got replaced by another bassist! Also, apart from Zairo, the other band members are a bit shy, so every time onew ask them to talk, they would shake their heads and get flustered lol

When ONEW was getting changed, Zairo tried to talk with the audience, but ONEW changed very fast and accidentally cut him off

After another break, jjinggus chanted Zairo's name, and he asked them if he should keep teaching ONEW to play acoustic guitar or switch to an electric guitar (electric guitar won). He also teased jjinggu because they were giving a reaction for everything. They even screamed when he suggested tambourine and castanets

ONEW said that the only reason jjinggu voted for electric guitar is because they think it's sexy. He also said that is something that fans love to say to him, but he added that if he acts sexy is unintentional

The wishes he grated during the baseball granting wish corner were: singing In Your Eyes and Lately, dancing to Replay and making a morning message for jjingu

When he finished singing In Your Eyes, he said that minho loves that song very much, and it's probably minho's favorite song. He doesn't forget In Your Eyes lyrics because Minho asks him to sing it every time

Replay was supposed to be danced like a cute rookie Jinki, but ONEW said that he couldn't dance it like that because he got old and that cuteness belonged to his younger self

He said (again) that Lately is a song he likes very much.

During the fan q&a corner, someone asked him what food he liked while being abroad, and he replied curry. Even when he was in Europe, he ate curry.

Someone asked him to make a greeting jjingus should do when they meet him, and he suggested to tap on his shoulder and sing maestro lyrics and do the chicken dance

onew: this is me, /moves to the other way/ this you. you should do " I swim, you swim, 손을 저어 휘적휘적 "and move your arms. that'll make me happy fr

his current favorite english song is blinding lights by the weeknd (onew didn't remember the song title or the lyrics)

Someone asked him to sing juliette, and he sang it acappella

> what did u do last night

o: washed myself, brushed my teeth, and watched historical videos on YouTube

he mentioned he watches puppy videos too and that he wants a puppy so bad, but he thinks he shouldn't do it

ONEW eats his bread toasted with a bit of butter on top, he also likes it to eat it with strawberry jam and milk

The venue for his bday party is already rented, and apparently, he's working for Focus and Shape of My Heart live clips

ONEW said he loves their Shatting Star and that he doesn't need a lightstick. Someone suggested to make a cover for it tho and he said he'll think about it

Also, he started bragging about SHINee and said he loves SHINee very much

[nerdieforpedro]

Friends look out for friends right?

Chapter Two of Come live with me Angel Series

Benny Miller x Diana (plus size OFC)

This fic is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1908

Summary: Benny recalls how he and Diana first met. Living arrangements are discussed in addition to why Benny ended up in jail last night.

Warning: questionable karaoke choices, a few thots, Benny cooking, more pining, reference to a fight and jail

Notes: A slow burn with Friends to lovers. I enjoy writing them. I need to fit in tacos for @musings-of-a-rose just because. She knows why. 🤣

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ Come away with me Angel Series

Benny thought back to when he first met Diana while he cooked breakfast the next morning:

Six months ago at the Saucy Cantina. It was karaoke night and none of the guys would sing with him. He even chose ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ one that the four of them would know, but none of them would sing with him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the three beers he had but he wanted to belt out a tune. There were three women near the sing book when he walked over, two of them were looking at a Beyonce song - she doesn’t have a bad one so that’s a safe choice. But the third woman who’s dark hair touched passed her shoulders was studying a page intently. He tapped her shoulder and she looked up, her honey brown eyes stared at him and he watched her baby pink lips move as she spoke, “Yes, did you wanna see the book?” Benny shook his head and asked what song she was thinking of doing. “You’ll laugh, but I was thinking of ‘Rich Girl’ or ‘Diamonds.’” She said, setting her finger on each song.

“Those two are pretty different. I was thinking of a song too but my brothers over there are buzzkills and don’t wanna join me.” He grinned, his eyes a little glassy from the beer. She chuckled and nodded, explaining that she had been outvoted and it looked like her and her friends were going to be singing Beyonce tonight.

“We don’t have to sing what they want to you know. I’ll sing ‘Rich Girl’ with you if you’ll sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with me, Angel.” He offered a hand outstretched as he hopped up on stage. Fish tapped Pope and Will, pointing toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The woman who he would later come to know as Diana took his hand and hopped up on stage with him. Benny remembered that he didn’t let go of her hand the entire time on the stage as they sang the Hall and Oats song and danced, swaying their hips and stomping their feet in tune with the music. It earned them a standing ovation and they got a second when they finally sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in which there were some squeals because neither of them could hit those notes and they may have had a round of shots in between numbers. Benny invited all three girls over to the table and kept Angel as he called her, next to him as they chatted and drank. Will and Fish noticed how Benny kept holding onto her hand, like she might bolt, but she didn’t seem to mind. When the girls went to the bathroom, they teased him about getting a girlfriend of karaoke. Benny told them to shut it and that she was just really nice, but he knew then he wouldn’t be alright with not knowing her name and noting seeing her again.

Over the course of the night, he learned her name Diana and she told him his, Benjamin, but to please call him Benny, no one calls him his full name. They exchanged phone numbers and he made sure to text her to check if she got home okay and to see if she wanted lunch. One would have thought that he’s asked her out on a date but it wasn’t, just brunch. It was fun and no pressure. It helped a lot that Benny was a goofball and that Diana liked telling bad jokes. It’s been great for the last six months, towing the line between friends and something more and easy, so very easy.

This morning, Diana woke up and had a headache. What should she do? Moving in with her mother would be the more reasonable of the two options, but could she stand living with the woman again? Especially now that she was being effectively kicked out because her roommate found a man and she hadn’t.

Benny was up off the couch and had folded the blanket. He was making some eggs and toast when he saw Diana walk out in a loose black tank top and pink shorts that bunched between her legs from her thighs rubbing together. Her eyes were blurry and she rubbed them to adjust to the bright light. They went wide when she saw Benny in her kitchen, shirtless in his jeans and no socks, his hair was down and coasting along the back of his neck. She sometimes forgets how tall and broad he is. No…she knows. She tried to forget, because if she thinks about it, she do that before bed again.

“What the hell Benny..?”

“Damn Diana, that’s not what I expected. I thought I’d at least get a ‘thanks’ or a ‘good morning’, no hospitality.” He turned with a wide grin, holding a spatula in one hand. Diana cleared her throat and took a few steps forward on the cold floor to make sure she wasn’t having another dream about the younger Miller again. It turned out she was not and he really was making her breakfast in her apartment.

“I-I didn’t expect you to be making breakfast. Thank you. I was just surprised. I didn’t think you could cook.” Diana walked over and leaned on the counter, her breasts were pushed together from her crossed arms as she watched him scrambling eggs in her frying pan. “Did you want me to start some bacon or toast?” She asked, Benny turned to answer her but was greeted by her ample cleavage that was exposed. Toward the scoop of her tank top, it looked like he might just be able to see the cusp of something. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that they’re friends. Benny wonders from time to time and feels guilty because of how close he keeps Diana. He swallowed the spit that had gathered in his mouth and nodded.

“Sure, make both. I’ll eat what you don’t. You like onions and peppers in your eggs right?” Benny asked, drizzling some on half of the eggs, Diana agreed and took out the bread and bacon to get started. The bacon she put between two paper towels and microwaved it while she plugged up the toaster to start on the bread.

“Benny, you take your toast like your hair?” She joked, he roared with laughed as he remembered first telling Diana that’s how he liked all his bread that wasn’t on a sandwich. He was finishing up the eggs while she made six pieces of toast and eight pieces of bacon. It was a lot of food, but after they sat down and split it up, Benny and Diana scarfed all of it down along with two glasses of water each. They sat at the table relaxing because they were both full. Diana decided to ask first.

“Benny, are you going to tell me why you were arrested last night? You told me you hadn’t had any issues with the law for a couple years. There had to be-”

“You really wanna know Angel? Then if I tell you, you need to move in with me.” Diana opened her mouth to protest but Benny held up his hand. “You’re gonna say no, but you know you and your mom are like oil and water. Also you can pay me rent if it makes you feel better. I’d rather you didn’t though. You’re my friend.”

You’re my friend.

Diana realized that the only one stressing about being in close quarters with Benny was her. It would be the better and cheaper choice. She’d just have to keep her wits about her and gawk at him…too much.

“Fine Benny, I’ll move in with you. I haven’t found another place besides my mom’s anyway. Now will you tell me why I had to get you from county last night?”

“You know that bar we go to often, right? I was drinking after a fight. May have lost, not a big deal. Point is, we were laughing and joking it was all good.” Benny leaned forward with both elbows on the table, his muscles taut. Diana wants to tell him to sit back or throw a blanket on so she won’t stare.

“I know the bar, yes.” She tilts her head, confused about where this is going. “If things were good, why were you in jail?”

“That bastard said, anyway. He said something he shouldn’t have. I showed him he should keep his mouth shut.” Benny shook his head and stood up from the table taking both plates and silverware over to the sink. Diana sighed following him and had her hands on her hips.

“Benjamin Miller tell me what he said. Now.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew her bottom lip had likely poked out. “Was it really that serious to where you needed to injure three men? I mean I’ve heard all sorts of things said-“

“I don’t care what you might have heard in the past but no one’s going to talk about you like that! Not while I’m breathing.” Turning toward her, his face was red as he chewed on his cheek. “He asked me how you were in bed because he was sure you were enthusiastic and loud since you sing so well. I told him to shut the fuck up and he followed it up with…it doesn’t matter. I should have made it so his jaw would be wired shut.” Benny tossed the dirty spatula in the sink and started running water in a large bowel, pouring in some soap to start washing. “You try Diana.”

“Anything any drunk idiot says you shouldn’t listen to Benny. He’s an asshole. Don’t go to jail again. He and no other asshole is worth it.” Diana took the spatula and two forks to dry and put them to the side to put away.

“I’m not letting some douchebag think it’s fine to talk about you any kind of way Di, I’m not. I’ll try and stay out of jail. I can’t promise not to fight for you.” Washing the two plates, Benny handed them to Diana and watched as she bumped the drawer closed with her hip and leaned on her tip-toes to put away the plates after drying them. He found himself laughing to which she whipped the dishtowel at him.

“If I move in with you, you can’t be going back to jail Benny. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Diana knows how serious he is which is a blessing and a curse. There’s always assholes that will say all sorts of things. Thankfully Benny was alright but what happens if he gets a longer sentence. Maybe he somehow thinks he won’t. They’re going to have to agree to disagree. “One other thing though Angel,”

“What now Benny? You gonna fight the cabinet for being too tall for me?”

“No. We need to go get my jeep from the bar. Then we can start moving your stuff today.” Whipping his hands on his jeans, he walks over to the couch and gets his shirt and slips it on. “Grab your keys.”

“I don’t leave the house in my sleep clothes Benny. Give me five minutes.” Rolling his eyes, he watches Diana make her way into the bedroom and close her door to get dressed. She may have fussed at him, but she was still moving in.

Goal accomplished

Chapter One Chapter Three

Notes on Benny’s guitar 🎸: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair @gwendibleywrites