#this is a love letter to the bartender au by

[loveshotzz]

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.

---

----

-----

------

[kedsandtubesocks]

give you something to dream about

joel miller x f!reader

summary: It’s game night at the bar and you stumble upon the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak AU, Joel has both of his daughters, ‘strangers at a bar and maybe something more’ scenario with eventual husband!Joel, mentions of drinking, spicy making out session, Joel gets a bit handsy, gendered language / reader is addressed as “baby” & “darlin” light football discussions and terminology, lovesick and possessive!Joel

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my love letter to Joel, his love for football and maybe my own love for Texas football as well lol. To have this as my first fic of the new year and for it being for Joel means so much. To come back and write for the Pedro fandom is special and means so much. Big thank you to my babe @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream my sports girl head off about this, and for @lowlights for giving me guidance when I needed it. And lastly - thank you for reading, you are what truly makes this so incredibly special and wonderful

A mixture of bright neon and low soft white lights bathe the bar in a cozy ambient glow. The music is barely audible, a sort of after thought. Instead commotion and the ramble of sports announcers fills the room.

You manage to squeeze through the sea of onlookers dressed in burnt orange. Maria thankfully stays close to you. Now at the bar counter relief floods you as you lean against it.

“Order me a beer, I’m gonna find our table.” Maria yells over the liveliness swirling around.

You give her a thumbs up and thankfully don’t have to wait for the bartender long.

“Like your shirt!”

The bartender’s voice catches you instantly. Bright and direct you blink towards him. He’s cute, young, maybe a grad student from UT Austin who works here.

You can’t help but glance down at what you’re wearing.

Even under your jacket the shirt is comfortably a bit larger on you. The main focus is the old cartoon type logo of Bevo, the Texas Longhorn's mascot. The burnt orange coloring is faded adding to its weathered look.

A warmth flutters through you from just seeing it.

“It’s vintage, cool as hell.” The bartender continues admiring.

“Thanks. Uh, a friend of mine gave it to me.” Thankfully the bartender nods understandingly and doesn’t press the topic more. Instead he soon asks what you’ll be having.

You order Maria’s beer and a drink for yourself.

“So, you a big Texas fan? Well okay, I mean…you gotta be if you’re here.” The bartender, grabbing a drink glass, starts up another conversation with you as his tone becomes playful.

“A lot of people I know and love are. So by default I am too.” You admit with a sleepy grin.

“Aw,” his face melts. “Now that’s sweet. Well glad to have you here cheering for Texas.”

The bartender now even winks at you. You politely laugh but then, the bar erupts silencing the conversation.

Excited yells come so loud you jump out of your skin. Quickly you turn around to view the many tvs and projectors showing the game.

From what you can tell the Texas defense managed to take down the quarterback. You even watch the replay to see what the fuss is about. It was a good tackle and the play kept the other team’s quarterback from even advancing.

The game has you memorized now. You watch as the burnt orange and white uniforms of the players scramble like chaotic ants now trying to rush after the ball was kicked, no, punted to them.

Your lips twitch. You never would’ve thought you knew this much football terminology or could at least follow the game. Yet here you are.

The bartender clears his throat and embarrassingly fast you turn back around.

Not two but three drinks sit before you on the bar counter.

One happens to be a surprise shot that makes your eyes go wide.

“Uh, so the guy at the end of the bar sent it your way.” The bartender explains lowly, trying to be discreet about it.

Your eyes instead whip up to search for the mystery man. Then your heart sprouts wings when you discover him.

Leaning against the bar rail at the very opposed end of where you are, the man seems like something out of a romance novel’s dream.

Ruggedly handsome, his distinguished aged face and striking nose glow against the mixture of neon and dim lighting. It highlights the grays in his beard and gorgeous dark hair. His chocolate eyes bore into you as if you’re the only one in this bar.

His attention on you alone has your knees weak and you wonder maybe you suddenly turned into jello.

Your mystery man lifts his beer up to you, a silent ‘cheers’ and then takes a sip.

Just watching him take a swig of his beer has you dizzy. So you readily snatch up the shot, toast it back to him and down it.

The alcohol burns, but you’re surprised it’s your favorite liquor of choice. You can’t help but cough up wildly and the bartender snickers at your reaction. It’s been too long since you’ve had a shot and you’re thankful to chase the stinging sensation down with your mixed drink.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice calls out and her bright smile greets you as she slides through the packed crowd.

“Hope you didn’t think I forgot about you.” She laughs warmly. She grabs her beer and slides a tip to the bartender.

But then her eyes notice the empty glass.

“Oh? You took a shot without me?” She teases.

You tell her someone bought it for you and her eyebrows fly up fast in eager surprise.

“Oh?” Even her tone is warmly excited. “You get a good look at who your mystery shot buyer is?”

You turn your attention towards the end of the bar, right where he should be. Except your mystery man has vanished.

A bit of disappointment trickles in.

“I did, but guess he took off.” You tell Maria a bit low.

“Well, his loss then. Come on! Let’s head back to our table-”

“S’cuse me…”

A smooth deep and accented drawl, direct and firm enough cuts through the commotion politely cutting in on Maria.

Just as fast, there’s suddenly a deep warmth behind your back. The presence is broad, warm, and smells of the beautiful hint of a sandalwood cologne.

“If you don’t mind, I think I might steal this pretty gem for myself.” The accent seems thicker now and melts off his voice like sin.

He’s talking about you.

Maria smiles wildly entertained while her eyes flicker between you and your mystery man.

Silently you stare back and with pleading eyes you mentally communicate that yes you want to stay, yes it’s okay for her to head back.

“Alrighty then, see you two later.” She says grabbing her beer and gives you one last amused look before heading back to the table.

Your heart races so loud in your ears you don’t even notice the upset yells at a bad call given by the refs.

“…Howdy…”

The voice purrs, absolutely dances against the noise of the bar and beckons to you, your personal siren’s song.

Turning around the shadow of the mystery man falls over you. He stares down with those obsidian pool eyes as his lips turn into a boyish grin.

“I’m Joel. S’nice to meet you.”

You think about all the songs that sing about Texas beauty and how they all must have actually been speaking of this man.

Joel extends his hand out to you and the simple pure southern gentleman introduction has excitement bubbling in you like you’re a champagne bottle about to pop.

Your lips fight back a disbelieved smile as you introduce yourself and shake his hand.

It’s larger than yours, warm and beautifully callous that speaks of hard work. Joel leans closer to you and you can’t help but slide more towards him as well.

“I like your shirt.” His fingers playfully tugs at the bottom edge of your shirt.

“Thanks,” you take a sip of your drink to gain more courage. “A friend of mine let me wear it.”

Joel laughs. It’s warm, touches his face and sounds like it settles in his chest.

“A friend huh?” His voice grows even more amused.

You simply hum a nod as you take another sip of your drink. Your body hums with so many wonderful emotions like a jenga tower trying to hold onto its form on a moving table.

“That friend of yours a boyfriend?” Joel asks, a dark drawl sticky as molasses and trapping you to him.

You can’t help but shake your head no. The taste of your drink momentarily settles you.

“Pretty thing like you single? Ain’t that a shame.” Joel comments with a low rumble and all the ease you had gathered floats away.

Your eyes flicker back to Joel. But your focus goes between his stunning eyes and his lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over, become hooded with a hazy desire. How much it intensifies his gorgeous features makes your stomach flutter.

The game must have quieted down or maybe you’re just this focused on this man.

He moves to whisper in your ear.

“So…Wanna find a nice quiet spot to chat? Get to know each other better?” His lips softly graze your ear and an electric current runs up your spine.

“Yeah.” You mutter back now tipsy off Joel’s presence.

The moment you agree, Joel’s hand slips towards your waist and draws you to his side. He quickly slams down plenty of bills on the counter to cover for the drinks and tip. Your poor drink and his are forgotten.

Now Joel shifts into a man focused.

Squaring up his shoulders, he stands taller as he takes the lead. His broad shoulders become a guiding force, keeping you close to him. His hand intertwines with yours while he navigates you among the crowds.

His larger hand suddenly squeezes yours, a reassuring pressure that draws you closer to him. Moving through the tables against the crowds, you arrive at the outdoor patio where the early night air clears your mind.

Joel continues guiding you to a smaller area where the bathrooms are outside by the patio. You stand before the family restroom that holds the sweet title of “cowpokes” on it. Opening the door, Joel leads you inside. You take in the slightly larger yet still small rustic bathroom that glows under the murky amber light.

The door locks behind you and you turn around to find Joel staring you down with hunger brewing in his smokey eyes.

That’s all you can focus on before you get caught up in a dizzying whirlwind.

Hastily Joel rushes forward to pin you against the wall. His body firm and large presses so deliciously against you. Before your eyes can even soak in the close sight of him, he sweeps in and kiss you with a ravenous fierceness that steals your breath.

He quickly consumes you.

Joel faintly tastes of beer and something intoxicatingly uniquely him. While his hand moves to hold your face, his tongue licks into your mouth, diving in, almost trying to get drunk off you. You can’t help but draw him closer to you as much as you can. You want your nails to dig into him the same way he’s burning under your skin and seeping into your core

His hips begin to grind against you with an eased pace and you moan into his mouth. You want more, need more.

“Oh baby.” Joel groans out and sounds like sticky delicious sin.

Suddenly the loudest cheers leak into the bathroom.

So fierce in their excitement it echos into the room and freezes you and Joel immediately.

He sighs against your lips.

“We must‘ve scored.” Joel mutters.

“Are you upset you didn’t see it?” You ask gently and kiss his lips soft as the heat begins to settle.

“Nah. I’m aimin’ to score here myself.” He grins and the line has you laughing. Your face goes to rest against his as you continue to snicker. The prickle of his beard gently scratching against your skin feels wonderful.

“Darlin’ you’re killin’ me. I wanted to sound slick.” Joel sighs again, sounding deflated now.

“You did...sort of.” You smile.

“Forgive me,” He smirks and turns to press another soft kiss against your lips. “Been outta practice for a while.”

“You aren’t too bad, cowboy. You managed to get me in here.” You hum amused while your fingers run against his jaw, through his scruffy wonderful beard.

Joel chuckles and it dances within his chest, resonating through him.

“You’re the only one I want in here.” He mutters.

You and him share a few more soft slow eased kisses that are rushed, almost shy now.

With one last kiss, a deeply melting one that now makes you ache to keep him here, Joel pulls away. You hold yourself back from pouting.

But, you’re now rewarded with the sight of Joel fully before you. The dim amber light paints him like something pulled from a sunset dream, an aged handsome man so sweet with his furrowed concentrated eyes.

You watch Joel pat around his jean pockets and suddenly your eyes go wide.

“Joel Miller if you lost them-”

“Calm down!” He huffs cutting you off while he rapidly digs into his deep jeans pocket. He yanks something out in his grasp.

He smoothly slides closer back to you and holds out his palm where two wedding rings sit waiting.

His and yours.

Your heart melts out of your chest seeing them and your ring finger itches for its missing piece. You grab Joel’s ring, leaving him yours and move to slide his back onto his hand.

In the same manner, Joel slides your wedding band back onto its rightful place. The memory of when you did this at your actual wedding faintly flutters in and settles warm in your heart’s chamber.

Joel draws your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.

This man, your husband - you yank him towards you again to kiss him.

It’s a kiss that’s like coming home, of sweetness and cultivated bliss reuniting together again.

“Wanna see that bartender try flirtin’ with ya now with that ring on your finger.” Your grumpy husband grumbles adorably.

You bark a laugh. “Oh please, he was being nice for the tip and you know it.”

“Uh huh.” Joel dryly huffs as he stares at you unamused.

“Hey he was nice. He even liked my shirt.” You reply back.

“My shirt.” Joel clarifies strongly. “That’s my shirt.”

You roll your eyes playful.

He is right though. The shirt is his. Your husband is a superstitious football fan. And ever since you wore his shirt and Texas won, Joel used his beautiful brown eyes as weapons to get you to wear his shirt every game since then.

“Come on, curious to see what the score is.” With one last sweet kiss, Joel leads you back out into the evening air.

Hand in hand with him, you find your way to Tommy and Maria. Both of them brighten up at the sight of you and Joel.

“Hey! Look at that! You’re a married man again!” Tommy cries happily and you laugh. Joel, after sliding your chair in for you, rolls his eyes now while you and Maria snicker to each other.

“Bet it was fun while it lasted.” Maria grins.

“Eh.” You shrug but the truth tugs at your lips amused.

A few nights ago, when you and Joel had come up with this idea of going to the bar without the rings, pretending to not know each other, you worried for a split moment that you’d enjoy the freedom.

You worried you would realize how much you missed and enjoyed the playful banter, the flirting and pull that comes with being single. But instead you simply found your way back to Joel.

The excitement of seeing him, of having that same sensation rush through you like it did when you first met him, was nostalgically addictive for a moment.

However, you instead soak in the comfort of sitting beside Joel because it feels like coming home. While being single for another moment again was fun, you want to find Joel in every lifetime, find him as your husband in every universe.

The bar suddenly breaks into wild excitement. Joel as well cheers so loud. You turn to the game and find Texas intercepted a pass.

Now you go to check your phone and find both your daughters thankfully are doing fine. Sarah even sent you a photo text of her and Ellie at the classmate’s birthday party they’re both at. There’s a lightness that settles into your bones seeing them and having their father, your husband, beside you.

Joel and Tommy, as if they’re ESPN announcers in deep analysis, dive back into how Texas needs to sharpen up their offensive line. It’s adorable. It makes you fall in love even more with him.

Maria goes to ask Tommy something about the game and Joel leans towards you.

“You happy to be married again?” His voice drops soft and low. You catch the hint of true curiosity and almost hesitation residing under his tone.

“Of course. It’s my luckiest day all over again.” You truthfully tell him with a warm grin.

“Yeah?” He mutters tenderly as his eyes flicker to your lips again. “Make sure you share some of that luck with the team alright?”

You playfully nudge his arm and Joel smirks. You love him like this, light and teasing.

Joel drops a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t worry baby, this is my lucky day too. Goin’ home with the most gorgeous person here and I’m married to her.”

You could say the same thing. You’re leaving with the most handsome man and knowing you’re married to him? You feel honored, proud, and grateful.

Even when he starts yelling at the quarterback as if the poor guy can hear him.

“I could throw a better pass than that!” He argues upset.

You’re not as big of a fan as Joel, but Texas holds a place in your heart forever. It intertwined you and him in its own unique way.

Back when you were dating Joel patiently explained the game, so gently spoke to you without any judgment when you asked questions you were sure would make any other seasoned fan mock you or get annoyed. But not your Joel.

The first big moment you met Ellie and Sarah it was over at his place during a Texas game.

You experienced how wildly invested Ellie got, just like Joel, and how amused Sarah got seeing her dad and sister scream at the tv. From that point - all the days, the games, laughs and moments cultivated into a path that has led you to this moment, to this bar.

And now, here you are.

You love Joel’s love for the game, for the sport. You love how it’s connected you to him.

“Honey, you okay?” The voice of your husband pulls you from your thoughts, like a call home.

You turn to find Joel intently looking at you, your sweetheart provider. You can’t help but grin and nod.

“Yup, just thinking about the handsome stranger I met earlier. Hope he asks for my number.” You tell him.

Joel breaks into a chuckle that touches his earth eyes.

“Between you and me, he’d be a fool if he didn’t.” His hand now slides to yours, his thumb even begins to twist and fiddle with your wedding ring, a sweet habit of his.

You snort amused at how effortlessly he can play along with you.

Before you can tease him again or even wander back into your thoughts, the crowd roars to life with shouts. All eyes including yours snap to the game.

Texas just intercepted the ball and the play breathes life into the bar, into your husband who claps loud and proud.

It’s a great energy to see the end of the second quarter and the start of the halftime.

Suddenly, Joel’s hand begins softly trailing against your thigh. Warm and almost eased, the slow movement ignites a blooming desire in your chest.

Joel easily laughs with Tommy about the game. His eyes stay on his brother. Yet Joel’s hand slides now confidently deeper into the inside of your thigh. Your throat tightens and heat now begins to soak between your thighs, almost daring him to touch you.

Then a collection of happy cheers burst in the bar and steals all the attention.

All the tables nearby including yours turn to find a group of ladies. One of them currently grabs the cowboy hat off a taller man who grins so warmly down at her. She laughs loudly after doing what had to have been a wild shot.

The guy orders her, and her friends, another round causing them to squeal loud and excited again. Maria leans back to talk to Tommy and so you too lean closer to your own husband.

“Maybe I should pretend to be single again.” You tell Joel. “To see if I’ll get free shots and attention like that.”

Not that you’d want any of that. You just enjoy teasing your sweet grumpy husband from time to time.

“Nope.” Joel says with an unwavering sharpness. “You ain’t going anywhere without that ring Mrs. Miller.”

His words are rather light, almost playful, but you catch the underlying possessive simmering. It ignites an even stronger warmth beneath your skin.

“And who says you don’t get free shots? I’ll buy you as many as ya want.” Joel adds and his clipped almost ruffled voice has you laughing.

But as you settle, your thoughts wander. The smell of Joel so close, the mixture of his faint cologne and the detergent you use to wash his clothes, brings back the sensation of having that smell surround you when you were in the restroom with him.

It makes you ache.

Your hand now softly wanders to rub his warm broad chest. A low rumble comes from him, an awareness of your presence as you drape against him now. Maria and Tommy thankfully have begun to make fast friends with the couple sitting beside your table.

Your face leans to rest against Joel’s and the slick honey like desire you felt earlier creeps over you once more. It urges you to be bold.

“Wanna go mess around before halftime is over?” You offer soft and low, only for his ears.

Joel peers over to you, his eyes now smoldering coals.

“You wanna?” He mutters back.

Your answer comes as a soft kiss you place against his cheek. However, your hand now begins to slide up his thigh just like he did to you earlier.

Joel loudly clears his throat and sits up fast which untangles you from him. Immediately he yanks out his wallet to slam his card on the table.

Tommy and Maria now blink back at the sudden action.

“Order anything y'all want. We gotta grab somethin’ from the truck.” Joel lies effortlessly.

But Maria knows as she grins knowingly while embarrassment instead rises in you.

And apparently her husband isn’t as easily fooled either.

“Yeah yeah! Get outta here ya horn dogs!”

Joel barks a sharp ‘hey!’ at his younger brother’s crudeness while you can only laugh against him. Tommy simply makes obnoxious kissy faces while Maria snickers besides him. Unable to endure anymore teasing Joel playfully calls Tommy a piece of shit and with that you wave a quick and thankful to Tommy and Maria.

Joel once again leads the way to the entrance.

The two of you now stay stuck together closer than earlier. An almost giddy frenzy now keeps you both hyper aware of the other. His hands keep you so firmly close to him.

The giddiness you had earlier while pretending to be single with Joel is nothing compared to this. This feeling swirling in you comes from knowing you get to sneak away with your husband. It has you floating, only tied to this world by Joel keeping you steady and protected.

Around you, small chatter about the game hangs in the air.

Texas might not win. But as you slide closer to Joel, a unique shade of triumph washes over you.

Your good man, your wonderful husband.

He is your victory and champion.

Your victory lap and your welcome home party all at once.

And when he kisses you wildly against the side of his truck…you think he might also be your sneaky devilish opponent as his hand already starts to slip under your, no his shirt.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[amazzwon]

MY GO-TO SEVENTEEN FICS

────⟢.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)

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[lotsoflola]

all is fair in love and war [1] - s. johnny

summary: you hate johnny suh, you absolutely hate him, but when you're forced to spend time with him on a mission, your passionate hate becomes a different sort of passion genre: gang au, enemies to enemies with benefits to lovers warnings: mature themes, smut, angst, reader is a smoker (projection), TENSION!!!, hate fucking, heavy heavy heavy degradation, johnny's not very nice, the dirtiest fucking talk, dom!johnny, brat!reader, thigh riding, johnny gets head, johnny keeps fucking her despite threat of death, choking, wrote this at 2am lets be nice with my grammar word count: 6.6k author's note: welcome to part one of my baby!! this is the first chapter of all is fair in love and war and trust me, it just gets better...

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neo city was a complete and utter shithole.

it had always been like that, at least as far as you were aware. you had lived here for the past five years, getting yourself a cheap starter apartment for half the price of anywhere else. it was a culture shock at first, being scared just to walk through the streets to your job, but you assimilated quickly, finding a job as a bartender in the inner city, in a cosy bar called the 'urban oasis'.

it was there you first had an interaction with gang life. it was a quiet night at the bar. you were practically dosing off, only a few regulars in the far corner playing darts, and everyone else had been sent home, leaving you to close alone.

a man walked into the building, and as he did so, the other men seemed to quieten down, stiffen slightly, stop playing their game. you were confused, but truly didn't care enough to question anything. instead, you turned to the man, and prepared to take his order.

he looked like neo city, if that was even possible. green neon hair, matching the fluorescent lights that covered the city, with tattoos up his neck and arms and a leather jacket to complete the look.

"whiskey on the rocks," he stated, voice harsh.

you rolled your eyes, hating rude customers like him. "what type of whiskey? we've got jack daniels, jamesons-"

"just give me your top shelf," he snapped again, and you gave him a pointed look before going to fulfil his request.

it didn't take you long, and when you passed him the chilled glass, you also handed him a receipt.

"that will be $45, would you like to pay cash or card?" you asked, watching as his face grew clouded.

"i'm sorry," his tone was almost testing, as if he was giving you a chance to take back your statement.

"i said it will be $45, you got our top shelf of whiskey," you repeated, going to wipe some glassware, but were met with a firm grip on your wrist. "what the fu-"

"leave it, honey," one of your regulars, a man called sooman, shouted across to you, fear lacing his voice.

"no, he got a whiskey, he'll pay for his fucking whiskey- let go of me," you tried to squirm, but his grip was harsh, and you truly couldn't escape.

"do you not know who i am?" he sneered, face dangerously close to yours.

you sighed. "i don't care who you are, i'm not getting fired because some dickhead wants to get away without paying."

and with that, you swang at him, your fist colliding with his head as he let go from the impact, giving you a chance to swing at him again. he jumped over the bar, and grabbing your arms, pinning them against your side before pushing you up against a wall, leaving you completely unable to move. it was only then you noticed the gun in his belt, and the tattoo at the base of his neck, one that had three letters.

n. c. t. the name of the most dangerous gang in neo city.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, practically convincing yourself that you were about to die.

"recognise me now?" he almost joked, and you gave him a look. a look that said if you're going to kill me, might as well kill me now. "i'm not going to kill you."

that took you by surprise, and he must have been able to tell, as he carefully let go of your hands. "scram."

the rest of the customers ran out of the bar, leaving just you and the man alone, and he gestured for you to sit. you refused however, instead grabbing a bottle of tequila and pouring it into your own glass, waiting for him to make the first move.

"my name is taeyong, i'm the leader of nct," he spoke calmly, and you tried to not show your immense anxiety pumping through your veins. "and judging by what i've just seen, i think you would make a good addition."

you could have laughed, instead taking a swig of your drink, the bruning sensation grounding you to this unbelievable reality. "me? in a gang?"

"it's not all killing, and drug dealing, and all the other things everyone thinks it is. you've got bite, got drive, and we need someone like you," he took a sip of his drink, leaning closer towards you, "and you'll make more in your first week than you would in a month here."

and hearing his words, though you wanted to deny, you found yourself accepting his offer.

~~~

four years later, here you were, high in the ranks of the most feared gang in neo city, a force to be reckoned with. the bar you once worked for minimum wage at you now owned, and nct used it for meetings and to unwind.

no one could touch you know, instead of fearing the streets people now crossed the road for you, and you felt untouchable. you had honed your craft, mainly in charge of wooing policemen and being eye candy during meetings. you didn't care, you didn't want to be making all the decisions, it was the sense of community you cared about more.

so here you were, ten pm on a monday night, a group of you playing snooker in the bar. a cigarette held loose in your fingertips, with a fellow member jaemin lying with his head in your lap, playing with his hair with your other hand.

"do you ever think that this is all a simulation and we're all actually fruit in a fruit bowl?" the boy in your lap mumbled, the alcohol obvioudly affecting his thoughts.

jeno, another boy with you, chuckled slightly, finishing putting a pool ball. "shut up, jaemin. i always forget you're such a lightweight."

"now, now, he's not that bad," you hummed, taking a drag from your cigarette.

"stop playing nice, cherry. he's had about three shots and is contemplating life on this earth," haechan sneered, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

cherry was the nickname you had earned yourself, due to the amount you ate the fruit around the members. you preferred it to your own name at this point, making it easier to seperate your personal life and, well whatever this life was, life.

"he's not as bad as jisung though, remember that night after the bank heist," chenle joked, earning a slap from the youngest member.

"it was a celebration, god, leave me alone," jisung mumbled, as the older members ruffled his hair.

it was at this point haechan fell over attempting to put the ball, collapsing into renjun as they both fell on top of each other, roughly slapping each other as they rolled on the floor. the group erupted into laughter, only stopped as a knock was heard on the bar door.

"who's that?" jeno asked, and you shrugged, taking another hit.

"bar's always closed on a monday."

"well, go check it out."

"why don't you check it out, haechan?"

"it's your bar."

"nct owns it. that means we all own it."

"you chose to buy it."

"suck my dick."

"oh my god, you have a penis?"

mark, the oldest of all the members, cleared his throat. "jesus christ, stop bickering, cherry, go get the door."

you flipped haechan off, but stood up nonetheless, causing jaemin to pout against your thigh.

"i'm just going to the door, jaem, don't you worry?" you patted his cheek, before wandering over to the door, and opening the peep hole.

"bar's closed," you sung, "get fucked."

the man sighed. "it's me, open the fuck up."

you recognised that voice. of course you fucking recognised that voice. the one member of nct who you loathed, who for some reason you couldn't stand.

"gonna need the password, i'm afraid," you teased, mouthing to a confused mark who was at the door.

"let me in or i will blow this bar to the fucking ground," he spat, and you oblidged, however much you didn't want to.

johnny suh was a tall man, towering over you as you opened the door, with washed out jeans and an oversized hoodie, with a beanie on his head do deal with the cold winter weather. he was handsome, but you would never admit that to him, because his personality made him completely insufferable.

"hi cherry." god, you hated the way he said your nickname, almost with a twinge of disgust behind it.

"what do you want?" you asked, hand still firmly on the door, not letting him enter just yet.

he smirked. "play nice, need to talk to jaemin about something. and a drink wouldn't hurt, go get us a jack and coke, huh?"

he was insufferable, the way he spoke as if you were nothing, just a pretty thing to run and make drinks and flirt. even the non-affiliates got treated better than you, and you had been here for four years now.

"go fuck yourself, john," you spat, wandering back over to the boys and shaking jaemin awake. "someone's here to speak to you."

"is it the fruitbowl?" he asked, and you sighed, placing his head back down in your lap.

johnny wandered over, and you watched his face drop as he noticed jaemin's state. "why would you let him drink?"

the question was targeted at you, for whatever reason, and you fought back. "i'm not his mother, john. what did you want anyway?"

"don't be snappy, cherry," his voice was laced with venom, a patronising tone irritating you entire being, "it concerns you as well. it was meant to be you and jaemin, but someone's going to have to step in."

you hummed as you realised what he meant. a group of four of you had been working on stealing money from a large formal dinner happening at the mayor's house tomorrow night. that was partly why you and jaemin were drinking, courage needed for tomorrow. it was the two of you, johnny, and another member jungwoo, but the entire thing was already planned out. it was weeks in the making, so you didn't know what johnny was talking about.

"what do you mean?" mark spoke your mind, being somewhat in the know about the situation. he was selected before you were, when they decided they needed a girl to step in.

johnny sighed, palm stroking down his jaw. "you know how we were going to use that catering company, sneak in as waiters for the evening."'

you nodded, resisting the urge to role your eyes at him. you obviously knew this, you had gone over it again and again and again until you could recite the entire thing like the back of your hand.

"well, the numbers have dropped, and therefore we've been dropped from the waiting staff."

you tilted your head. "can't we demand they let us in?"

"they don't know we're nct, that was the only way we could get in," johnny groaned, once again looking at jaemin's drunk state, as if affirming that he was knocked out cold. "cherry, i need you not to freak out."

this startled you; sentences that start like that don't normally end well, especially when someone like johnny suh was saying them.

"there is another way we can get in though, through the hwangs."

haechan wandered over, perching behind you on the armrest of the sofa, grabbing the cigarette from your hand and taking a hit. "they're the businessmen, right?"

"yeah, very quiet, keep to themselves a lot of the time," johnny stated, copying haechan's actions as he settled behind jaemin's feet, "they're also with us, we do a lot of their dirty work."

"but how does that help us?" you jutted in, grabbing the cigarette back from haechan, almost burnt to the filter.

johnny tuts. "i was getting to that, sweetheart."

sweeheart was arguably worse than cherry.

"the hwangs have two children, hyunjin and yeji. but they've never been seen, both of them are off at school in a different part of the country. the plan was that jaemin would go in as their son, and infiltrate that way, but obviously he's not prepared to be briefed tonight."

your hand found it's way to jaemin's hair, your acrylic nails gently massaging his scalp. "so what else can we do?"

"well, there's another option. you," he gestured loosely, and you flipped him off before taking your final hit of the cigarette, putting it out in the ashtray as smoke filled the room. "you're going to go to the event as hwang yeji and represent your parents."

it wasn't that absurd of an idea. you could spend tonight learning some family history and dropping the rough slang you had learnt.

"that doesn't seem that bad," you hummed, grabbing your bag and pulling another cigarette out. "hyuck, have you got a lighter?"

he passed it to you, and you ignored johnny's judgemental stare of your brought the stick to your mouth, the low light of a flame illuminating your face. you took a long drag, head leaning back against haechan's thigh as you exhaled.

"well, i'm not sure whether you know, but for formal events like these, girls cannot attend without a male escort," johnny informed you, and you stopped in your tracks, understanding the implication. "no, no, johnny no."

"there's no other option, cherry," he groaned, and you took another hit.

haechan started laughing behind you, the vibrations travelling through his legs to your head. "you've got to go with johnny, cherry that's absolutely brilliant."

"fuck you, haechan," you spat, eyes locked onto johnny's. "why can't i do it with jungwoo?"

"he's a kim, he can't get away with that."

it was true. the kim's, despite many of them now turning to the crime world of neo city, used to be a very influential family. there was no way jungwoo could walk into the ball pretending to be someone else."

"and there's really no other way," you asked, desperation in your tone, taking another hit before haechan took it from your hands.

jisung wandered over to you. "come on, it's not that bad. johnny's supposedly a gentleman."

"ji, i love you, but there is no way johnny fucking suh is anything resembling a gentleman," you spat, making grabby hands towards haechan, wanting your cigarette back. "come on, hyuck, give."

"smoking's a vice, cherry."

"so's being a dick, give it back."

you could hear johnny tut, but chose to ignore it, instead trying to comprehend the situation. "can i get a makeover?"

haechan scoffed. "really? that's what you're after?"

"i'm just a girl, hyuck."

"yeah, she's just a girl," jaemin stirred, and you gave him a loving pat on the head.

johnny quickly checked his watch. "come on, we've got a fuck ton of backstory to get through."

"is there really no other option?"

"trust me, sweeheart. if there was, i would have found it."

and with that, you gently slid jaemin off your lap, placing a kiss on his forehead, before standing next to the tall man.

"come on then john. i need to get my nails done."

~~~

soft rnb music filled your apartment as the sun set over the skyscrapers, perched in front of your mirror as you carefully applied your eyeliner, ensuring they were equal either side. you had barely slept, spending the entire night with johnny and jungwoo, learning everything you would possibly have to know about the hwangs, and for a rich family in neo city, there was a fucking lot.

you had managed to convince taeyong to get allowance for your makeover, heading to the salon today to get a new set of nails, long and red to match your dress. your hair was in loose ringlets, fingers dripped in expensive rings, wrists the same with bracelets. a diamond hung around your neck, sitting way above your low cut dress. the hwangs were known for being scandalous, despite their quiet nature, so to fit the part, your dress was a low cut v, the back hollow crosses of loose satin, sitting halfway down your thigh.

with a swipe of lipgloss you were finished, packing a small clutch with perfume, lipbalm, and your gun. maybe the gun wasn't necessary, but it wouldn't blow your cover, so you though it better to be safe than sorry. half the people in neo city carried guns, and the other half walked with people who carried them/

you checked the time quickly. 5:57. johnny said he would be at your flat at 6, so you quickly checked through your phone. you had a few texts from mark, asking about the new show you guys had been watching, and a few from jungwoo, wishing you luck for tonight. it wasn't a scary thing anymore, you had done so many of these tasks that they felt like second nature. you were one of the few girls in nct that didn't mind going out, which made you incredibly useful for situations like this.

the doorbell rang just as you finished texting jungwoo, and you groaned, wandering through your kitchen before opening the door, seeing the man himself on the other side.

fuck. he actually looked good.

he was in a black tuxedo, bowtie tight around his neck. he was a tall man, that much was obvious, but with dress trousers he somehow look taller. his hair was in curtains, a deep brunette that hung just slightly over his eyes. not that you would ever say it out loud to him, but jesus fucking christ.

"you ready to go?" he asked, not even acknowledging your outfit.

you rolled your eyes. you knew you looked good, there was no way that he didn't realise how fucking good you looked. "nice to see you to. i just need to put my shoes on, calm down."

the set of red louboutin heels fit you perfectly, sliding into them with ease. you stumbled just after putting them on, but quickly grabbed your bag, a packet of cigarettes and a lighter off the table, before meeting him at the door.

"ready," you hummed, placing your key in the lock and shutting it behind you, before placing them in your bag.

he scoffed. "you really need the cigarettes?"

"you really need that terrible attitude?" you shot back, following him into the lift and pressing the ground floor button. you checked yourself out in the mirror, cleaning up the lipstick that had somehow escaped your lips.

"terrible habit," was his only reply, one that you didn't think needed a response, though you did notice the slight flick of his eyes to your boobs as you leant forwards slightly, an action that led to a smirk on your lips.

you quickly noticed that johnny's car outside, not a limo like you presumed. he seemed to notice your confusion as he deliberately didn't open the door for you, waiting for you to climb in yourself.

"ever the gentleman," you teased, watching as he started the engine, pulling away gently.

"we're driving to the oasis, that's where the limo is," he explained, not even given you a glance.

"why didn't you just ask me to walk to the oasis then?"

johnny scoffed. "like you would have walked through neo city in a slutty dress and high heels."

you flipped him off, but he did have a point. you would never do that anyway, least of all neo city. instead, you pulled out a cigarette, rolling down the window and lighting it, the bitter taste a comfort on your tongue.

"i'm serious when i say you shouldn't smoke."

"i'm serious when i say you have an attitude problem."

he rolled his eyes, eyes darting towards you as you tapped the ash onto the road. you could see the oasis in the distance, the familiar comfort of the bar calming you slightly. all you wanted right now was a drink, just a little bit to calm your nerves.

"fancy a shot?" johnny seemed to read your mind, pulling into the carpark quickly.

you both made your way into the building, the bustle quieting down as they noticed you and johnny walk in. you smiled as you saw jaemin behind the bar, the hangover evident in his eyes. his arms enveloping you in a tight hug.

jaemin was like a brother to you. he had taken you under his wing very quickly when you joined nct, but unlike a few of the other guys, he genuinely had no ulterior motives. he saw your beauty, understood why guys like haechan and jeno were so into you, but that just wasn't him. he was one of the few people you knew would always be there for you.

"fuck, cherry, you look gorgeous," he breathed out, and you planted a soft kiss against his cheek.

"thanks, jae. how's the hangover?" you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of tequila and two glasses, pouring two glasses for you and johnny.

he groaned. "how do you think? i am so sorry though, it should be me there right now."

jaemin had spent half the morning apologising over the phone, saying how you've taken his place and if only he hadn't drank so much. you appreciated his efforts, but you both knew you were more than able to do what needed to be done. despite all this, he paid for your lunch today, and that was a win.

"don't be stupid, besides now there's two of us going. even if one is practically incompetent."

johnny didn't like that, finishing the shot before turning to you. "watch yourself, sweetheart."

"bite me, john."

jaemin seemed to sense the tension, pouring you guys one more shot before leaving you to it. your rivalry was well known throughout nct, even some of the runners knew how much you loathed each other, and most people understood it was better to leave you guys to it, let you fight it out, and hope neither of you killed each other. or that whoever was your favourite made it out alive.

"you're insufferable, you know that," you spat, downing the second shot in quick succession, needing the alcohol to settle the violence in your gut.

"rich coming from you, can't even stand being in your presence."

"you're lying to yourself, suh. saw you checking me out in the mirror," you teased, leaning in closer to him.

he matched your energy, face bending down slightly saw your eyes were almost even. "i was not checking you out, i can assure you of that."

"tell yourself whatever you want, if it helps you sleep at night, but your eyes don't lie."

"half the guys in nct want you," johnny's voice was a low growl at this point, face so close to yours basically all you could see was him. "and do you know what? i don't fucking get it. you're a bitch-"

"lovely choice of words-"

"you think you rule the world, you think you're better than fucking everyone, but you're not. there is nothing special about you, and the sooner you realise that, the better."

"do you know what, suh?" you could feel the anger running through your veins, nails digging into your palms to stop yourself planting your fist into his face, leaving shallow crescents in your skin. "you think you're so smart, so precious. oh, johnny suh, johnny of nct, the johnny- no one can fucking stand you. god knows why taeyong keeps you around, half the young guys don't even want to know you- ever wonder why it's the same two guys who volunteer to be with you? because no one else even wants to be near you."

johnny opened his mouth, probably to insult you even further, smirk creeping onto his lips, but a notification on his phone went off, and he pulled away from you quickly.

"limo's here," was all he could say, and you pushed your anger back down inside you.

you were hwang yeji. be hwang yeji.

and ignore the weird feelings going on in your chest right now.

~~~

"hey, cherry, how's it going?" jungwoo asked, robotic voice over the phone as you pulled out a cigarette, locked in the guest bathroom at the mayor's house.

you sighed, taking a deep hit to calm your nerves. "all good so far, no one suspects anything. you and jae should be all good to hack the system come 12."

all jungwoo did was hum in response, and you hung up accordingly. you couldn't do anything suspicious at all, there was too much on the line. you took another hit, the smoke fogging the room as you took a moment.

you had spoken to about half the city elite, acting like the prestine proper girl you were supposed to be, but it was taking it's toll. you and johnny had been here for about four hours, and that was four hours too long of pretending to be enamoured by johnny suh. he was disgusting, hand settled in the small of your waist as he laughed at your occasional jokes, planting soft kisses into your hair.

it made you feel sick, sick to your core, sick enough that not even the cigarette was calming you down. johnny suh was an unbelievably irratating individual, one who made you genuinely revolted as his eyes locked on yours, and it took every morsel of self control not to announce to the whole room that you were hating every second of it, that you hated him.

you finished the cigarette, spraying some perfume in the bathroom before leaving the room, walking back over to your 'boyfriend'. he was with another two couples, not sure who, but he quickly introduced you as you slid under his arm, his hand resting against your side, thumb rubbing against your ribcage.

"this is hwang yeji, my girlfriend," god, how his voice made you feel ill. he sounded so in love, and the way his thumb felt against your body just added to it. some part of you felt confused, he definitely did not need to be doing so much, and yet he still was.

stop thinking about that. focus on what you need to be doing.

"yeji, my darling, gosh how you've grown," the woman, moon bora, planted a cheek on either cheek, hand cupping your jaw. "i bet you don't remember me, i haven't seen you since you went to boarding school."

"i know, it's been so long since i've been back here," you hummed, body tensing as johnny gently guided you over to a small table, where bora and her husband jinhyung followed you. he sat next to you, arm over the back of the chair, as you continued on the conversation. "i do miss it, yeah, though there are definetly benefits to living by the coast."

"oh, i can only imagine. do you get to go to the beach regularly, i know college can be quite intense," jinhyung asked, voice full of curiousity.

you went to respond, but your voice was a sharp choke as you felt johnny's hand on your thigh. "sorry, but no we do make time to go. it's beautiful in the morning, watching the sunrise over the ocean, it's really something."

bora and jinhyung kept their questions coming, and you could barely focus and johnny's fingers travelled higher and higher up your thigh, crawling underneath the silk of your dress, gently massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh. you squeezed his hand, a warning, a 'stop this', a 'what the fuck are you doing?'.

his hand got dangerously high, to the point where you could feel him just against the lace of your panties, before you heard an alarm on johnny's phone. 11:45. you needed to get a move on.

"god, i'm sorry," johnny broke the conversation, hand finally leaving your thigh to turn of the ringtone, "that's my medicine alarm. sweetheart, will you come with me to the bathroom to take it."

johnny excused himself, but you were convinced if you went with him now you would genuinely kill him. "let me just say my goodbyes, i'll meet you in a moment."

he shot you a look, but you gave him one back, and he dropped it. you turned back to the couple, with bora giving you a knowing look.

"gosh, you guys are so in love," she sung, and you resisted the urge to spit out your drink. "it reminds me of us when we were younger."

you smiled at her, lying through clenched teeth. "i'm glad you can tell, he's honestly incredible."

"don't think i didn't notice the way you were flirting under the table," she gave you a suggestive wink, and you swore then and there you were going to kill johnny. "young love, how much i miss it?"

you couldn't wait any longer to kill him, so you quickly excused yourself, and travelled through the mansion, past the toilet to the computer room, in charge of the entire house's security, one you had previously mapped out in the planning stages.

"what the fuck?!" you exclaimed, entering the room where johnny was sat on a desk, laptop open with a download completing sign on the front. you locked the door behind you, securing it with a desk you pulled across the front. "what the actual fuck?!"

johnny payed no attention to you, keeping his eyes on the laptop as the percentage went up and up.

"fucking answer me you dick, what's your game?" rage coated your voice, your hands gripping his dress shirt and pulling him out of the chair, forcing him up looking at you.

"whatever do you mean, sweetheart?" he cooed, and the fake loving tone drove you crazy, crazy enough that you brought your hand up to slap him across the cheek.

the action through him back, surprise across his face quickly turning to anger. "you have issues, fuck."

"i have issues?!" you were seething, anger clouding your vision and your hand gripped his shirt tighter, pulling his head down so you were opposite him again. "you've been touching me all night, fucking groping my thigh, grazing my waist, are you mental?"

"do you not understand the concept of fake dating, sweetheart?" his voice was low and dangerous and, however much you wouldn't admit it to yourself, sexy as fuck. "we have to pretend to date-"

"dating does not include groping me."

"i didn't fucking grope you, calm down cherry," johnny sighed, and you pushed him away ever so slightly.

your hand ran down his body, tracing a line down the centre of his abs, watching his muscles contract as they tensed under your touch. "so this doesn't bother you?"

"not in the slightest," he tried to keep it calm, but the way his breathing shortened told you the opposite.

but you kept going, you were fucking fuming. "so if i touch you here," you hand trailed further down, running over the waistband of his trousers, your long nail circling around the hem, "that doesn't bother you."

"fucking stop," he ordered through gritted teeth, but of course you didn't instead keeping your descent until you were over were he did not want you to be, pushing just enough to push johnny over the edge.

and he snapped.

his hands came to grab your wrists, his physical strength easily overpowering yours as he pushed you up against the wall behind you, vaging you against the wall, the paint cold against your open backed dress. your hands were pinned above your head, and legs forced still by johnny's thigh in between your own, body pressed up against yours.

"i thought i told you," he spat, mouth so close he genuinely filled all your senses, "to fucking stop."

you hadn't lost your fight yet, though. "i thought you knew, that what you say means nothing to me."

"do you know what you are?"

"please, do enlighten me," you fought against his grip, but you couldn't escape. johnny was told and strong, and however much fight you had, you could not beat that.

"you're a slut."

those words were unexpected, causing you to gasp as they went straight to your gut, weird butterflies emerging in your chest.

"you're such a fucking slut. act all you want but i saw how your body acted when my hands were on you, when i looked at you like that. like a bitch in fucking heat."

you were genuinely gobsmacked. no words could come out of your mouth to defend yourself.

"but do you know what, sweetheart?" his teasing was endless, however, not letting up despite your lack of retaliation. "i think you like this, i think you like me calling you what you are. a desperate little whore-"

"i don't," you're voice was nowhere near as strong as you wished it would be, because deep down you knew he was right. the butterflies in your stomach were definetly telling you that you were enjoying this, and the way your core was aching.

"tell that to your thighs squeezing around mine," his lips were centimetres away, "because i've realised what you need. you need someone to put you in your place, to remind you of what you are. a needy, desperate, slutty little bitch, don't you sweetheart?"

all you could do was whine at his words, your hips rutting against his knee without even thinking. his words were doing wonders, you could feel how soaked you were without him even really touching you.

"grinding against my fucking thigh, you really are a bitch in heat," he practically scoffed, a hand travelled down from your wrists to wrap around your neck, squeezing enough to cut off your airflow slightly, the feeling making your head spin and vision dizzy.

"i know you've fucked hyuck," he stated the words so nonchalantly, like they weren't personal details you had never told him, "and i know you've fucked jeno. i'm pretty sure you've fucked jaemin as well, but they obviously didn't fuck you good enough for you to still have this attitude, huh, sweetheart?"

you couldn't fathom the words to respond, overwhelmed by the pleasure between your legs. your breathing got shallower and shallower and your air was cut more and more, rings indefinetly causing dents against your soft skin. johnny tensed his thigh, and you couldn't hold back the whine that escaped your mouth, the feeling just too good as your clit rubbed against the fabric of his trousers.

he could only scoff, his hand dropping your wrists and instead sliding down to your hip, kneading the skin as he manouvered your body, sitting down and pulling you down onto his lap, or more specifically his thigh. he finally let go of your throat, grabbing the other side of your hip, and you let out deep breaths, trying to gain back some sense of clarity.

"if you want to be a pathetic little thing," his tone was almost teasing, his large hands beginning to rock you back and forth, "then go ahead. get yourself off on my thigh."

and you followed his instructions, swinging your hips and getting into a steady rhythm. johnny's eyes dropped to where your body met his own, one hand sliding under the soft satin of your dress and feeling the lace panties you had on underneath.

"god, you're dripping, you're actually dripping against your thigh," he practically laughed, your wetness sticky on his fingers as he pushed the lace to the side, and the pleasure was just too much to contain, a moan leaving your lips. "shut the fuck up, cherry. don't want anyone to see how much of a whore for my thigh you're being right now."

you dived into his shoulder, biting down on his jacket to stop the sounds he was practically forcing from your throat. his hands sped up your pace, forced you to keep going as you felt the knot tighten in your gut.

you panted out, the sound of your wetness filling the room as he leant up, looking into his eyes with a sense of desperation. "gonna cum, john, need to cum."

"oh, you need to cum, do you?" he sneered, leaning back against the desk chair, feeling a sense of gravity as he watched the girl he hates fall apart on his thigh. "you need to cum."

"need it- need it so bad," you whined, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.

johnny tilted his head, a mischevious glint in his eye. "stop moving."

"what?" you panted, confused by his words but not stopping your movements. "no, no, i'm so close."

"i don't care, stop fucking moving," he spat through gritted teeth and his lifted you off his thigh, your hips moving in mid-air as you groaned, feeling the pleasure leave your body as your high left your body.

your eyes locked onto his, tongue poking your cheek. "what the fuck!"

"needy sluts like you don't get to cum," he said as if it was the most obvious thing ever, sliding back from the chair and spreading his legs, placing you down on the floor. you didn't even have the strength to hold yourself up anymore, collapsing against his leg, the cold concrete floor a shock to the system.

however much you hated to admit it, johnny looked majestic. with his legs spread, eyes glaring down at you, hair messy as his tongue ran over his bottom lip. you couldn't tell what he was thinking, and that worried you. you were on your knees in front of the man you hated, and for whatever reason you were actually excited about what was going to happen next.

johnny didn't say anything, but his actions spoke a thousand words, his hands going to his belt and undoing it with ease. you felt your mouth water as he slid his trousers down, revealing his hardening cock from his underwear. you leant forward, hands ready to grab it, but one of his own hands nestled itself in your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as he pulled you back.

"here's what's going to happen, sweetheart," he shuffled forward on the seat, tempting you to just have a look. you could tell from the bulge that he was big, and all you wanted at this point was your mouth around him.

god, how were you having these feelings about johnny suh.

"you're gonna let me fuck your face like the slut that you are," your thighs rubbed together as he returned to the degrading words, "and then i'll decide whether you deserve to cum."

his other hand pulled his now hard cock out of his pants, and your eyes widened at the sight. he was big, he was so fucking big, and there was no way that he could fuck your throat without cutting off your air supply.

"john, i can't-"

"you can, just open that slutty little mouth for me," his tip poked against your lips, and you complied, hesistantly parting your lips as he slid between them, the stretch agony at first. "there you go, relax your throat. don't want to hurt you that much, cherry."

those words were different, they were softer in a way. they were johnny being sincere, not 'putting you in your place' or 'teaching you a lesson'. and they relaxed you, enough that he slid even more into your mouth, tears building in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

"god, you have no idea how good that feels," he groaned, seemingly not to you, but just to the world. "tap my thigh if i'm good to move."

you followed his order, typing his thigh twice before he started to move back and forth. you tried your absolute hardest not to gag around him but it was so hard when he was practically stopping you from breathing, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you physically had to gag around him.

johnny hummed, a pity hum, seemingly back to his old self. "what's wrong? thought you would be used to dick in your throat."

you took a deep breath as he pulled out, gasping for air as drool dripped down your chin, his dick hanging in front of you.

"don't tell me hyuck never fucked that pretty little face of yours?" he voice was playful, hand sliding from your throat to cup your jaw, thumb roughly dragging over your bottom lip. "look at how messy you are, sloppy little slut."

you took a deep breath, looking up at the tall man towering over you. "they weren't as big as you."

"aww," his tone was so patronising that if you weren't so dick whipped you would have slapped that expression off his face, "am i too big for you?"

you didn't resond, feeling like you were stuck in a trap, but that wasn't good enough for johnny. "i said, am i too big for you? because if you can't suck me off, you haven't done enough to cum tonight."

those words went straight to your desperate core, and you leant straight back to his dick, letting him back in as he pounded even harder and faster than before. you braced it, trying your hardest not to gag around him again. johnny's groans filled the room, and you just prayed you were doing well enough to get to cum later.

sa johnny's thrusts began to get more sporadic, he pulled out, hand leaving your head to jerk himself off. "open your mouth, tongue out."

you did as he said, sticking your tongue as you patiently awaited his cum, eyes glaring up at him as he kept his wrist moving at a quick speed.

"god, you're such a fucking slut, aren't you?" his words were said between low grunts and groans, obviously needed to get him over the edge. "tongue stuck out, drooling over my cock, thighs squeezing together at the idea of getting my cum in your mouth. fuck- cherry- fuck-"

and with that he came, most of it landing straight on your tongue, the salty taste filling your mouth. a small bit coated your lips instead, but johnny was quick to scrape that onto your tongue as well, before leaning down and spitting in your mouth. his saliva mixed with his cum as he barked out a 'swallow', and you did as he said. the action was so dirty, so vulgar, he was treating you like a messy, slutty object, and for whatever reason you were loving it.

"you did good, sweetheart," he cooed, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone, "i guess now it's your turn."

his hands settled under your shoulders, pulling you up from the group and back onto his lap, this time legs over his hips as you collapsed against his chest. you were fucking exhausted, head pounding from the pleasure coarsing through your veins. you could only imagine how you looked right now - mascara undoubtably smudged from the tears dropping from your eyes, lipstick removed from your lips and displaced onto your cheeks and chin, hair no longer its perfect ringlets and instead messy curls.

"god, you're still so fucking wet," he almost gasped, pad of his middle finger drawing a line through your folds. you could almost hear his actions, the squelching of your wetness deafening as your cheeks reddened with embarassment, your face hiding in his shoulder. "i bet you're so fucking sensitive- ah, yes you are."

your hips bucked as his finger pushed against your clit, so worked up from the lack of your last orgasm that you barely needed anything to become putty in his hands. he chuckled as he kept up his pace, other hand settled on your hip, rubbing up and down as you whined into his shoulder.

"still so needy, i wonder what would happen if i just...?" and with those words, a finger entered your pussy, curling up against that spot inside of you that caused your entire body to tense. "god, you're so fucking tight, would have thought this slutty cunt would be more used to cock than this, don't know how i'm ever going to fit."

you couldn't even understand the words coming out of his mouth. your orgasm was approaching so much faster due to how sensitive you were. and when he added another finger, the stretch just adding to the euphoria you were feeling, he could tell you were close. you just begged he would actually let you come this time.

but of course, he didn't. pulling them both out of you when you started to clench around him, and the denying pleasure for the second time made you absolutely crazy. your body was drained, completely drained of energy, and you didn't know how much more you could take.

"please," you sounded pathetic, most likely looked pathetic, and all you wanted was to cum. you sounded like the desperate whore he made you out to be, but at this point you couldn't even dispute it. "i can't take it, please."

johnny hums, as if considering your proposition, but really he knew your time was up. "need me to fuck you, sweetheat?"

"need you, john," you panted, using the last of your strength to push yourself up off his chest, to finally look him in the eyes, "please, wanna feel you in me."

that was all he needed, grabbing your hips and aligning you with his cock, and you were suddenly very aware of the position you were both in. there was absolutely no way you could ride him, you were far too out of it for that, but the way you were sat on top of him meant you couldn't think of another option.

but of course johnny was prepared, grabbing onto your hips and completely controlling your movements, sinking you down onto his cock for him and oh my god was he big. your mouth unknowingly feel into an 'o' shape with the stretch, feeling so so good as he bottomed out completely.

"pussy feels so good wrapped around me," johnny groaned, moving your hips up and down for you, so you were riding him without having to do any work. "dripping all over my cock, aren't you, my pretty little whore."

you couldn't even process the fact that he had called you both 'his' and 'pretty', instead trying not to scream and alert the entire house of the fact that you were locked in a room that you were definetly not meant to be in. your orgasm was incredibly fast approaching, the knot getting so unbelievably tight as you clenched around johnny.

"gonna cum, gonna cum," you repeated it like a mantra, until you heard a voice just outside the room. your hand flung to your mouth instantly, biting down on the flesh to stop any sound you were making.

johnny kept going though, despite the glares you were shooting him, to the point where you had to slap his chest in an attempt to stop him.

"fucking stop," your voice was a whisper, as quiet as you could muster while you could still hear voices outside. "i'm serious."

"you want to cum, don't you?" he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and there weren't people outside who would definitely kill you if they found anything out. "so just keep quiet, and then you'll get what you want."

so you tried your hardest not to make a single sound, but johnny's pace was relentless, pounding into you at an angle that hit such a good spot inside of you, and you had to bite down into your hand to stop yourself moaning as you released all over his dick, the feeling so much better after your denied orgasms earlier.

but johnny kept going, still chasing his second orgasm, and you just let him use you as he thrusted up, soft grunts after every buck. "gonna let me cum inside of you, like the whore you are?"

"yes, please," you didn't even know what you were saying anymore, now chasing your own second orgasm while the voices outside grew louder and louder. "want your cum, johnny."

"of course you do, fucking slut," he spat, through gritted teeth, "i can feel you clenching around me, you close again? am i fucking this messy pussy so good that you're gonna cum again?"

you nodded against his skin, and you both came at the same time, and the feeling of him filling you up was the cherry on top of this entire experience. you couldn't move, you felt numb with pleasure as johnny lifted you off his softened dick, placing you on the chair as he ran over to the laptop, and a smile creeped onto his face.

"download complete," he smiled, voice low as possible, "let's get out of here, cherry."

you span around in the chair, looking at him like he was stupid, becuase that's how he was acting. "there's people outside, dumbass."

"then we'll have to climb out the window," he spoke in the same stupidly obvious tone, and you actually accepted his suggestion. you could see jungwoo's car from here, and a quick dash would mean no one would see your escape. "come on, let's go."

you tried to stand up, but your legs gave up straight away, causing you to collapse straight back into the chair. johnny chuckled slightly. "i fuck you that good, huh?"

"you mention anything that happened tonight ever again i will kill you, i promise you," you swore, voice low and serious.

johnny tilted his head. "so you didn't just beg for me to come inside of-"

"just carry me out of here," you snapped, and he oblidged, arms behind your shoulders and knees and he walked through the floor to ceiling windows, and wandered through to where jungwoo was parked.

"never mention it again," you repeated, "tonight never happened."

"tonight never happened," he agreed, but turned to look at you again, "but you better drop that attitude, cherry."

"or what?"

"or i'll have to fuck it out of you again."

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Girl, You're My Angel - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw's a down on his luck first baseman in the MLB, struggling to find his stride in the game he loves so much. A wedding invite from his ex-wife is enough to convince him to go for a drink, trying to forget about everything going on. He wasn't banking on meeting you though.

pairing: baseball!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

warnings/content: baseball au, mentions of divorce, smoking, alcohol, reference to drunk driving, bar fight, mentions of blood, Bradley having a dirty mind.

word count: 3k.

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The booming bass drum of a classic rock song thumped in your head as you gripped the cocktail glass in your hand. The liquid sloshed around in the glass as you danced, swaying to and fro with your best friends, trying your best to enjoy yourself on your girls’ night out. Your finals had just wrapped up, and you were this much closer to earning your masters, the only thing standing between you and getting that embossed sheet of paper, was your grades. To unwind after the cram sessions you’d mustered your way through for the past month, your friends dragged you out to some new amusement bar in the Gaslamp Quarter. 

Across the bar, on the other side of the room, stood Bradley Bradshaw, a once promising baseball star who now, had earned himself a reputation as the MLB’s resident asshole - unable to take criticism or a loss without lashing out at someone. His recent stunt involved hurling his baseball bat across the diamond when he struck out in practice, frustrated with his sudden lack of skill, a skill that once came so naturally to him when his mind wasn’t preoccupied. 

The invitation had come in the mail two days before the bat throwing incident. His ex-wife, the one who left him two and a half years ago, was remarrying the fucking prick she cheated on Bradley with. The invite had come completely out of the blue, and when Bradley opened it, he felt all of the air leave his lungs as his fingers traced over the gold embossed lettering, donning her name and the name of her new fiancé. He’d never admit it to anyone, but that single piece of cardstock had been enough to reduce him to tears, slumping down the kitchen wall as he hugged his knees to his chest, crying loud enough that it made him thankful he had no neighbours near by.

Bradley had pulled himself together, lit a cigarette from the pack he’d been nursing for the last few months, reserved only for social events and times of pure stress, and got in his vintage Ford Bronco, his first purchase when he signed his first contract. Taking a drag from the cigarette, his brown eyes scanned over San Diego’s downtown core as he cruised past a few of the typical nightlife spots - each one a little too public for what he wanted. All other options exhausted, he pulled up outside of a newer bar that had opened the previous week, neon lights advertising an arcade on one side and drinks on the other. 

He figured if nothing else, a couple of rounds of Pac-Man on an old video game after a handful of beers might do him good. He could leave the Bronco parked there and walk to the hotel around the corner, and forget about how his ex-wife’s wedding was coming up in six months, how she’d had the audacity to invite him to see her marrying the guy he’d walked in on her with.  

He sidled up to the bar, nodding his head to the bartender in thanks as he ordered himself a beer. Standing across from him was a group of women, not much younger than him, gossiping and giggling together. He sized the group up, thinking to himself that maybe a one-night deal was what he needed to take his mind off his ex. 

You were the tallest girl of the group, with bright eyes, and hair brushed back in a sleek, high ponytail, sporting a form-fitting cocktail dress that made Bradley’s heart race when he saw you. He pounded back the rest of his beer, trying to find his confidence in himself once again in the comfort of the drink. 

Bradley set his empty bottle down on the bar top before walking his way around the circular counter. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning in with a broad smile as you looked in his direction. He offered a polite wave of his hand, chuckling awkwardly as he felt his confidence wavering as he spoke to you. 

“Hey, could I buy you a drink? He said simply, his Virginian accent dropping into a thicker drawl than usual.

“I’m good, thanks, still got one,” You held up your half-full glass and shook your head politely, not wanting to reject him too brutally. 

Bradley nodded his head once at you, his smile faltering for a second. He quickly regained himself, smiling once again politely before grabbing himself another beer and heading over to the arcade, resolving that a couple of old-school video games might make his night a little better. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to rejection - he’d been turned down almost as often as he’d been accepted, but for some reason, your rejection stung just that little bit more. Maybe it was the wedding invitation still making things sour, or maybe it was the fact that the mere sight of a girl hadn’t been enough to make his heart accelerate like this in a long time. He shook his head once, trying to focus his train of thought once again on something, anything other than what was currently occupying it. 

Baseball? Too stressful, his game was starting to slip up on him. Buying a puppy? No, it’d just be one more thing he could let down. Hitting the gym? He already went 6 days a week - if he went any more frequently, he’d have to consider moving his bed in there. 

His mind raced as he pressed the buttons on the video game, moving the small yellow circle across the screen, collecting points between sips of beer. Behind him, he heard a couple of guys shouting at a tv screen, the sound of the latest sports highlights blaring out in the background. 

“This Bradshaw asshole needs to get his shit together. Twenty-nine and he plays about as well as my ten year old. Drop him down to the minors or get rid of the bastard. He shouldn’t be missing plays like this.” One of the voices shouted at the tv, his friends nodding their heads in silent agreement with his rant.

Bradley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as the insults about his playing continued to spout from this guy’s mouth. He couldn’t have been much older than Bradley was, one of those armchair commentators who probably hadn’t swung a bat since Little League. As the criticism continued, each jab focused directly at Bradley’s game performance, missing one play that cost a game - one that he’d already been feeling pissed off about - it became harder to ignore. 

“I bet that hot little piece of ass wife of his left him because she knew he was a dogshit baseball player.” 

Bradley spun around on his heels so fast that he swore the room was spinning. He turned to face the group, crowded in a corner in front of the tv, faces all glued to the female commentator. Bradley could practically hear the derogatory thoughts they were having about her and it only fuelled his anger more. 

“Hey, man, if you’ve got an issue with how I play the game, I’d like to see you get off your ass and go play nine innings against Boston. Keep my ex-wife’s name out of your mouth.” Bradley scoffed, narrowing his dark brown eyes at the trio. 

“You got a problem, jackass?” The other man growled, raising an eyebrow at Bradley as he slammed his drink down on the table. “She probably left you for that rookie because even she knew you weren’t good for anything.”

“That so? Your wife would probably like to go a couple rounds with me though.” Bradley retorted, a devilish smirk forming on his face as he folded his muscular arms across his chest. 

Before Bradley had time to blink, the man drew back his arm and landed a hard punch to Bradley’s jaw. Bradley quickly delivered a stronger hit to the man’s face, watching him stumble backwards for a second. Bradley turned around and walked outside, getting ready to light another cigarette as he ran his hand over his jaw, assessing if he had any damage to worry about. 

The man returned, practically running outside after Bradley. More heated words were exchanged, insults flying between them both before the man delivered another hit, this time to Bradley’s nose. He shook his hand off and headed off down the street with his friends, disappearing off to the next bar. Bradley held his nose, blood dripping down from his nostrils and onto his hand. 

You and your friends had heard the commotion when it unfolded inside, and decided to head out, having enough excitement for one night. As you stepped out, you saw the man who’d hit on you earlier, this time with his nose bleeding onto the pavement under him. You ran over to him, raising an eyebrow.

“What did you do, hit on a girl who had a boyfriend?” You asked playfully as you rooted through your purse for something to help clean his nose.

“Called a guy out for saying my ex-wife was a “hot piece of ass”, actually,” Bradley nodded once, gratefully taking the tissues from you and using them to clean his nose. 

“Stick your hand out for a sec,” you instructed, squirting a dollop of scented hand sanitizer into his large palm before raising an eyebrow at him, “You don’t have anything I could catch from helping you without gloves?”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Bradley scoffed, trying to laugh but wincing instead, “And why the fuck does my hand smell like a flower?”

“Lavender hand sanitizer. It’s not as good as washing your hands, but it’ll do while we’re outside. And I’m going to hold the tissues in place while you rub it into your hands, but I don’t want to catch something. I’m just fresh out of latex gloves.”

“Good thing. I’m allergic,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to brave through the pain, “I’m clean. You’re fine. I get drug tested and physicals through work constantly.” 

“What kind of a job provides those? Military?” 

“Professional athlete.” He nodded as you pinched the tissues to his nose, applying pressure to help with the bleeding. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“Your nose is broken, it’s suppose to hurt.”

“What are you, a doctor?”

“No, just wrote my finals for a masters in nursing.”

“Close enough,” Bradley nodded slightly, cringing as you continued to apply pressure to his nose.

You rooted through your purse, laughing softly as you pulled a tampon out of your bag. Bradley raised an eyebrow at you, not quite registering what the item was until you pulled the plastic wrapping off of it, stuffing the garbage back into your purse.

“What the fuck do you plan on doing with that?”

“I need to stick it up your nose on the left side. It’s bleeding more than I’d like to see, and a broken nose should probably be set in a medical setting. This way, you won’t bleed all over my car.”

“Your car? You’ve been drinking.”

“Half a vodka-cran over the span of three hours? I think I’m probably not gonna blow over the limit.”

“You are not sticking that up my nose,” he replied stubbornly, arms folding over his chest like a petulant child. 

“Look at your shirt,” you laughed, gesturing to the white floral print button down he was wearing, its collar now tinged with red and pink splotches. 

“Fine,” he said with a reluctant sigh, “but if anyone finds out about this, I’m denying it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you nodded as you offered him the plastic applicator. 

Bradley rolled his eyes and reluctantly pressed the bottom of the applicator, pushing the tampon into the edge of his nose. He looked at you with another dramatic eyeroll and shook his head before walking down the street to a garbage can. He discarded the applicator before turning to face you, sighing. 

“I can take myself to a hospital, you know.”

“I’m already here, I may as well come with you. Besides, I feel kinda bad about turning you down.”

“Oh, so you’re taking care of me out of pity?” He teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe. Even more so with a tampon hanging out of your nose.”

“It’s quite the fashion statement, isn’t it?” He laughed softly, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, revealing a clean white t-shirt. 

You unlocked your car, the familiar beep as the doors unlocked causing Bradley to stifle a laugh.

“What is that?!” 

“My car,” you responded matter-of-factly, “What does it look like?”

“One of those cars for a Barbie doll that my goddaughter plays with,” he said as he flourished his hand, gesturing to your pink steering wheel cover and coordinating seat cover.

“Listen, I like pink. Now are you getting in, or do I have to make you?”

Bradley’s eyes widened for a moment, your playful threat of making him get into the car sending his mind into a frenzy again. He eyed you up and down again, and found himself shaking his head as he wondered what colour underwear you had on under your dress. He bet it was probably a coordinating pink set - the kind that Victoria’s Secret mannequins would model in the store window, with delicate little bows or lace or something adorning them. 

Focus, Bradley. She doesn’t want to sleep with you. Stop thinking about her.

He sat down in the passenger’s seat, watching as you hopped into the driver’s side. As you pulled away from the curb, he raised an eyebrow at your choice in music as Taylor Swift started blaring from the speaker.

“You can change it if you want to,” you nodded. “You can put on whatever.”

“No, no, It’s fine. I actually like this song.”

“You said you’re a professional athlete? What sport do you play?”

“Baseball,” he said, slowly nodding his head, “my headshot’s on a flag outside of Petco Park.”

“I thought I recognized you, you’re that player everyone always talks about, right?”

“Unfortunately. It’s rarely good things.”

“How come?”

Bradley sighed, raising an eyebrow, “You know they talk about me but not why?”

“I don’t follow baseball, I've actually never even seen a game, live or on tv. I just know my friend does and she told me everyone talks about you. Bradshaw, right? Number 10?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Bradley Bradshaw. First baseman, used to have a promising career, then, you know, wife cheats on me with a rookie from a rival team, catch her in a hotel room that I paid for with him, and then, despite me stupidly telling her I forgave her and you know what, I was pissed, but I loved her anyway and I blamed myself for her cheating, she served me divorce papers. Said I was incapable of loving anything but baseball. Says the woman who refused to do anything with me when I tried to be loving and affectionate. My friends swear she only married me for the status and the paycheck. Her new fiancé just signed a multi-million dollar contract that’s being talked about as one of the highest in the league, so it sort of checks out.” 

“Jeez,” you whistled, shaking your head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was two and half years ago. I just, I haven’t found my stride again yet, I guess.” 

“Is that why you got defensive about her?”

“They said she left me for this other guy because she knew I was a dogshit ball player. I mean, it’s probably not far off. But, I got an invite for her wedding in the mail today, and I was already on edge, so I sort of…snapped.”

“She invited you?!” 

“Yeah, like that, huh? She probably thought I have someone new I’m seeing and that we could still be friends or some shit.”

“So you need a date?”

“I’m not going,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I’m not going.”

“Why not? Free drinks for a night, you can wish her well while secretly hoping her husband’s ball career washes out on him in a year or two.”

Bradley chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he gestured his hand towards you, “I like your thinking actually, but I’m not going alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” you offered, shrugging your shoulders, “When is it?”

“In six months, you don’t need to come with me though. I’ll send her some cheap gift and call it a day.”

“No,” you insisted as you pulled into a parking space at the hospital’s urgent care clinic, “I’ll come with you. I love a good revenge story. Besides, it could be fun. I’ve never partied with a bunch of baseball players before.”

“You’re…you’re something else, you know that?”

“You mean, you don’t have dozens of women offering you a tampon to stop your nosebleed, driving you to the hospital and then offering to accompany you to your ex-wife’s wedding date?” you challenged.

“Can’t say that I do, no.”

“Well, I’m honoured to be your first.” 

Bradley couldn’t help his ear to ear grin as he followed you into the hospital. Despite his bloodied, battered nose, which was hurting more than he cared to let on, and his fledging career, falling apart around him as he stood there, he felt genuinely excited. Excited to get to know you better. Excited to see where things went with you. He felt a promising sense in your words - like maybe, just maybe, he might be able to be done with one-night-stands and empty beds in the morning. He felt giddy, like a teenager going on a first date with his high school crush. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain from his nose or the alcohol talking, but he was almost convinced you were a guardian angel of sorts. Refusing to believe that someone like you could be anything but. 

First things first though, he needed to bring you to a baseball game. 

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 24: Fluff

Animal | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 1,014 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic Summary: Cas and the kids stumble over a pet adoption event

The Bliss | @blessyoushondahurley Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,223 Main Tags/Warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, halloween Summary: A fluffy domestic day in the life of a happy, settled, married, post-hunter Dean Winchester and family.

Kiss it better | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,332 Main Tags/Warnings: Season/Series 09, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Sick Castiel (Supernatural), Caretaker Dean Winchester, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel Summary: Cas is sleeping soundly, and Dean tries his forehead; it's not as hot as it was before. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiles. Cas is indeed in good hands, and Dean is going to make sure he is healthy as soon as possible. Because if there is one thing he doesn't like, it's when the people he loves are in pain. Wait, loves? He loves Cas? Oh. Oh.

Early Morning | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,378 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Post Canon, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Retired Dean and Cas, Baker Dean, Bookstore Owner Cas Summary: When Dean’s alarm goes off, he quickly silences it and groans as he falls back against his pillow. Before he can talk himself out of bed, Cas rolls over and snuggles up against him, head on his shoulder, arm around his waist. Dean leans down to nuzzle Cas’ hair as he slowly rubs his hand across Cas’ back and shoulder. How did he - Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, the guy with nothing but a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude - get so lucky as to end up here? Married to his not-quite-an-angel-anymore, best-friend-turned-love-of-his-life. He’s so goddamned happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself sometimes. Dean huffs an incredulous laugh and shakes his head. He’s got to get moving or he’s going to be late.

loving on island time | @deancaskiss Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,015 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Kissing, Boys Kissing, French Kissing, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Established Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Anniversary, Day At The Beach, Beaches, Sunsets, Road Trips, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Surprises, Surprise Kissing, Flirting, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Romance, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Roses, Alcohol Summary: Cas slipped a note into the handle of Dean’s coffee mug, set it on the bedside table, and placed a kiss against Dean’s temple. 'Let’s go on a road trip. I’ll drive.’

Hot & Cold | @macy2me Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,064 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Castiel Proposes Marriage to Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human Summary: When Dean accidentally finds out that there is an engagement ring hidden in the house, he plays a game of Hot & Cold with Cas to find it. Short fic created as part of the Love & Winchesters birthday drabble exchange.

Fairy Cake Shop | @verobatto Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,546 Main Tags/Warnings: Fantasy, love at first sight, fairy!Dean, human!Cas, modern setting Summary: Dean, Charlie and Benny are unpaid fairies working for Fairyland collecting human's emotions like pearls. To do this work, they run together a cake shop that fullfils human's good wishes. One day Dean meets Castiel, a widower father, and his life changes for ever.

The Starlight | @Velvethopewrites Rating: General Word Count: 3,803 Main Tags/Warnings: Meet-cute, AU, shy!Cas, awkward!Cas, fluff, bartender!Dean, human AU, pre-slash Summary: A cold and rainy night brings two people together.

The Way to a Man's Heart (In a Blizzard) | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: General Word Count: 4,344 Main Tags/Warnings: Neighbors AU, Dean Has a Crush on Castiel, Snowed In, Baker Castiel, Sweet Dean, Happy Ending Summary: Determined to spend the weekend on his own as a snow storm hits the city, Dean may change his mind when a handsome neighbor knocks on his door. Propositioning him with delicious food, no less.

One Way Mirror | @starstiels Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,312 Main Tags/Warnings: outsider pov, fluff, didn't know they were dating, protective dean, protective castiel, episode: s12e01, episode: s12e02, cas and dean use their words Summary: When Mary comes back from the dead, she didn't expect her 4-year-old to be 37. She also didn't expect him to be a hunter and married to an angel. AU where deancas are just slightly more openly affectionate and Mary immediately assumes they're married.

The Royally Unexpected Jollification of Two Princes | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: General Word Count: 6,096 Main Tags/Warnings: Royalty AU, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Temporary Meg/Castiel, Helpful Sam Summary: Prince Dean has a lot of feelings to sort out when he hears the unexpected news that best friend Prince Castiel is engaged. Unsure if he’s upset about not having been told the news by his own friend—or perhaps because of another elusive reason—he plans on clarifying the situation. Good thing his friend is set to arrive at the castle on that very afternoon, unaware that an important discussion is awaiting him.

Their Own Personal Eden | @thisisapaige Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 7,394 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence After Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Gardener Castiel, Gardener Dean Winchester, Inspired by Draft Script for Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, Language of Flowers, Fix It Summary: Years ago, Dean lost Cas and spread his ashes across a meadow with a windmill, a brook, and a garden. Years later, Dean loses Cas again and returns there to plant flowers in his honour. One day, while Dean lies in the meadow now full of forget-me-nots, a portal opens and Cas returns. With the help of soil, seeds, and the language of flowers— and perhaps a little meadow miracle— Dean and Cas learn how to navigate their relationship in the new, Chuck-free world.

[piedpiperslists]

Jungkook Fic Recs

Note: Answered asks have not been updated since the indicated date; some links might not work anymore.

Academic Rivals & Nerd AU (03/12/2022)

All Time Favorite Fics (14/01/2023)

Angst with Fuckgirl!OC (20/06/2022)

Angsty Pining Fics (19/06/2022)

Assassin/Mafia/Bad OC (07/08/2022)

Bartender/Restaurant Related (16/08/2023)

Bet AU (29/04/2023)

Birthday AU (01/05/2024)

Bodyguard!Jungkook AU (18/06/2022)

Brooklyn 99 AU (07/08/2022)

Christmas Reverse Grumpy x Sunshine (26/11/2023)

Church Setting & Virgin!Jungkook AU (19/03/2024)

CEO AU (13/06/2022)

Disabled/Patient Reader (11/07/2022)

Emotionally Constipated!Jungkook (28/03/2022)

Fight within an Established Relationship (22/11/2022)

Gamer/Streamer and Skater AU (24/11/2022)

Grumpy x Sunshine (25/03/2023)

Himbo/Whipped Boyfriend (07/04/2023)

Hockey Player!Jungkook (05/02/2024)

Humiliation Kink Smut (07/05/2022)

Inexperienced!OC/Jungkook (11/02/2024)

Jealousy (23/12/2023)

Jungkook hates the reader at first (08/08/2022)

Long One Shots/Series (27/02/2023)

Love Letters (24/07/2022)

Nerd AU (18/04/2023)

Not so well paid off!OC (13/06/2022)

Orphanage AU (29/09/2022)

Period Era AU (10/12/2022)

Prince/Princess AU (01/11/2022)

Rebel!OC & Shy/Reserved!Jungkook (19/06/2022)

Royalty AU (24/06/2022)

Single Mom AU (17/06/2022)

Tattoo Artist/Piercer Jungkook (25/02/2024)

Twitch Streamer/YouTuber (15/07/2022)

Unrequited Love AU (12/07/2022)

[mollymauk-teafleak]

with your heart that is bruised but unbeaten

The huskerdust babies are here! In fic form! Huge thanks to the lovely @minky-for-short for creating this little babies au with me and putting up with me not wanting to talk about anything else!

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3 if you enjoyed this!

-------

Angel Dust doesn't know how but things at the studio have gotten worse. Valentino seems determined to break him completely, with long, punishing shoots that have him stumbling through the Hotel doors early in the morning.

But fortunately Husk is waiting to remind him exactly why he keeps fighting.

------

Angel Dust knew he’d told Husk not to wait up. 

He’d said it repeatedly, firmly, with both sets of arms folded. He’d told him yesterday as they fell asleep in a tangle of limbs. He’d told him that morning when he’d kissed him goodbye, before letting go and stepping away because Husk never would if the choice was his. He’d texted it to him when the shoot had rolled exhaustingly, relentlessly on, in the five minute break he was able to snatch, missing letters as his fingers trembled. 

Angel Dust had told him but when he finally walked into the hotel, aching, dizzy and unable to take a deep breath until the door clicked shut behind him, he was more relieved than words could say that Husk never listened. 

The rest of the lobby was in soft darkness, the bar a puddle of warm light off in the corner, the glow of a lantern caught and corked in the many bottles on the shelf, multiplying itself over and over. Husk was humming some soft, slow song Angel would have missed by a decade, his back to the door though one ear was turned his way, shattering his show of indifference. 

“Those big ears of yours ain’t working or something?” Angel Dust heard the crack in his voice, where the exhaustion and the ache bled in but he didn’t have to care, “I told you not to wait up, baby.”

It made Husk’s shoulders tighten but nothing more, he knew the game. Angel Dust had to let him in first. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Husk’s attempt at sounding innocent was pretty convincing, probably why he’d been a good magician and an excellent cheat, “Bottles needed dusting, that’s all.”

Angel winced a little as he took a seat, pain flaring down his legs, “You said a good bartender keeps the dust on the bottles. You said it makes the cheap paint thinner look old and expensive.”

“Guess I’m a shitty bartender then,” Husk finally turned, making a heroic effort not to react at the state of him.

He only failed because Angel knew his tells. They’d been through enough together. 

“I know,” he sighed, letting the cracks show now, eyes falling, “It was bad today.”

His armor always had to come away in bits and pieces, after a long day of slipping away inside his own body it was hard to come back to it and feel just how battered it had become in his absence. The long, painful process of claiming this hurt used to be blunted by booze and pills, whatever he could get his four hands on, six if it had been a day like today. 

And Husk did set a glass in front of him, a martini glass full of a pink liquid that shimmered, a bright red cherry bobbing in it like lips pursed in a kiss. Angel Dust smiled at the sight of it, even the car crash his reflection was right now looked a little better on the drink’s pearly surface. A year ago, anyone asking Husk to make something like this would be given a withering stare and told to fuck off back to whatever cheap strip club they usually drank in. But one night Angel Dust had mentioned some deeply unserious cocktail he’d invented with Cherri one night, listing off ingredients he vaguely remembered, lamenting that he’d never been able to get it tasting quite right since. 

And it had appeared the next night in front of him, plucked out of one of his few nice memories of life before Hazbin Hotel and summoned as if by magic, tasting better than he remembered. Just like it did now. 

“He’s punishing you,” it wasn’t a question, just an observation made bitterly through gritted teeth. 

Angel Dust saw no point in lying. The marks of Valentino’s frustration were all over him, the chafe marks on all four wrists, the black eye, the limp, the scratches, the missing chunk of hair. Every time he was called back to set, Val found new ways to chew him up, letting others get the blood under their nails while he sat back and yanked the strings, all of Angel’s pain pouring money into his pockets. The adverts had gotten bigger, flashier, Angel’s body sprawled across the Doomsday District, Valentino’s studio name splashed across so there was no doubt who owned him. The scripts had gotten more violent, angrier, more often than not he was a cheating spouse, like Val was trying to prove that whatever comfort he found in the hotel, in Husk, wasn’t going to last, pulling insecurities straight out of the dark corners of Angel’s mind and making him act them out over and over. 

Until it was so hard not to believe them. 

“Sure feels like it,” Angel Dust rasped, eyes still fixed on his own reflection, watching distantly as his eyes filled, “I’ll keep taking it, baby, I promise I will but…but right now I don’t know how.”

He felt like he was in the confessional, admitting to a sin worse than any he’d done before, vomiting the words up then cringing back to wait for the lightning bolt from the clouds. 

What came instead was a paw, soft and gentle, resting lightly enough on his cheek that he could pull away if he wanted to. 

“Sweetheart,” Husk’s voice was a low rumble through the very bones of him, “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Tell me what you need right now.”

Angel’s voice caught in his throat, just for a moment, trembling on the back of his tongue for a second before remembering it was okay, he was allowed to ask, “I need you. I need you to make me forget all about him, all about that fucking place, about anything that ain’t you and me. I need…I need you to remind me that it don’t always hurt.”

Husk slid the glass to one side, letting Angel crawl up onto the bar, all four hands anchoring themselves somewhere in soft, dark fur, close enough that he inhaled his promise, “I can do that for you, mi amor.”

The kiss was as sweet as the language that rooted Angel in a feeling of home, of safety. Husk kissed messily, devotedly, like he wanted to drown in him, heedless of the spider demon’s pointed teeth but careful of his own. It would look terrible on camera but that was the point, Husk didn’t kiss him for an audience, he didn’t kiss him for any reason at all, other than because he loved him. And he kept kissing him, until moans and gasps spilled from Angel’s mouth whenever they had to pause for air. 

“Upstairs?” Husk’s voice got rougher, deeper when he was turned on, until it sounded like something that should be bottled behind the bar. 

“Nuh uh,” Angel Dust rasped, shifting from his knees so he could spread his legs, dragging Husk between them, “Don’t let go, you’re the only thing holding me together…”

“I won’t let you fall apart, baby,” he made the promise to the hollow of his throat, to his pulse, “I got you…” 

Angel rolled his hips, thrilling at the erection now straining against Husk’s trousers, aching towards the warmth of him, “Then have me. Please.”

It felt so good to say it and really mean it, to beg and whine and moan and really feel the electricity crackling through him, knowing it hadn’t come from a script or a pill or a powder. Having Husk want him enough to stumble as he frantically yanked open his trousers, wanting him back just as hard, it reminded Angel that he was still capable of feeling. That he didn’t have to find it, it could still bloom in his chest all by itself.

Two hands pushed down his skirt, two had come from somewhere else to shrug off his jacket, the others dragged Husk close again. He groaned as the cat demon’s cock pressed between his legs, head resting on the lip of his opening, waiting for permission even now. Angel gave it wordlessly, rocking down onto him. The burn was sweet, a welcome pain, like ice cubes rattling against his teeth from the bottom of a glass or burning lungs after dancing so hard his vision swam. 

“Oh, baby…” he nearly sobbed out, tipping his head back so Husk could scatter kisses across his collar, every scratch and bruise and scrape getting one.

“Hurts?” Husk hesitated, one hand braced on the bar, the other on the small of Angel’s back. 

He shook his head, trying to wrangle his breathing so he could speak, “Not…not in a bad way…just getting used to you…”

He shifted his hips, slid further down the edge of the bar until it was just Husk holding him up, finding the place where it was only bliss. Husk rolled his hips and Angel thrust down to meet them, finding a perfect harmony, a beat they could follow. It all blurred together, the lines between Angel’s own body and his lover’s becoming smudged and meaningless, watercolors all running into each other. 

His heels pressing into Husk’s spine, urging him on. Husk’s rattling, stop-start purr, leaking into his bones until his whole body was thrumming. Husk’s teeth grazing along his throat but it felt like giving rather than taking. His dick hitting that sweet spot inside him with the perfect tempo. Angel’s whole world became these singular points of light, these sensations, all the exhaustion and hurt drowned out and washed away until he could believe it had never been there to begin with. 

He knew he was being loud, he’d lost control of his voice from the moment Husk pressed inside him. He knew he was begging, moaning, filth spilling off his tongue but it only drove Husk on, following the sounds he made like a map to more. 

Angel Dust couldn’t keep his trap shut but Husk only needed one word to topple him, growled into the spider demon’s ear as his hips snapped and shuddered. 

“Anthony…”

The thread snapped and he was gone. He came hard, messy, cock throbbing, a scream ripped out from the very core of him. He raked his nails down Husk’s back and, a second later, felt his love fall too, emptying into him with a salty rush and a muffled moan. It felt so good, so deep, that Angel was pulled under again, crashing right into another orgasm that hollowed him out completely. 

The shakes didn’t end when the tide went out. He still couldn’t breathe right, his muscles were still clenched. It was only when he felt Husk sigh contentedly and start rubbing slow, gentle circles on his back that Angel dared let go. He knew he had something worth coming back to.

“I’m here…I’m here, baby, it’s alright…” his voice was raw, rough, but comforting, coaxing him back into himself. 

“Fuck…” Angel whimpered as he felt Husk slip out of him, muscles aching at the loss. 

But it wouldn’t be the last time, he told himself. Sweetness wasn’t temporary here. 

“Did what you needed it to, sweetheart?” he could feel those yellow eyes peering at him anxiously, searchlights through the fog, hands gently pulling his skirt back into place. 

Angel smiled, slumping so his forehead was pressed to Husk’s, “You always do, baby…I love you.”

“I love you too,” Husk’s smile turned playful, a showman with another trick up his sleeve, “But I ain’t done with you yet. A shower, some food and some sleep, you’ll be right as rain.” 

And ready to do it all again. But even that thought couldn’t crack the blissful haze of being gently lifted into the cat demon’s surprisingly strong arms. Tomorrow meant another call time, more hands on him, more eyes burning holes in him, more words that stung like a slap to the face. He’d end up with more bruises, more aches, more dark shadows scratching at his brain from being surrounded by drugs he couldn’t have anymore. 

But it would end. And it would end right here, back in Husk’s arms, knowing he was loved no matter what. It made the thought of tomorrow bearable. 

Almost. 

“Hey,” Angel murmured, feeling the sway as he was carried up the stairs, “Mind if I add a little amendment to your list there, Husky?”

Husk’s chuckle was a pleasant vibration against his ear, “Always know I rocked your world something fierce when you call me that…and I think I can guess where you want to go.”

Angel grinned up at him, coyly, “Do you mind? I know it must have taken you ages to get them to sleep by yourself…”

They were already at the nursery door, like Husk had known where he’d want to go all along, “You know I got the ladies to lend a hand if I needed it. And besides, I think they’ve been waiting for you.”

Business at the hotel was picking up but Charlie hadn’t minded giving over the room next to Angel’s. It wasn’t exactly the most conventional nursery, Nifty’s homemade mobiles probably used more insect parts than than ones you bought up top, Alastor had gifted them an old radio that looked straight out of the twenties and played haunting lullabies seemingly by itself, there were more rubber ducks than they’d probably ever need in their lives. And there was a demon pig snoring in the rocking chair like he considered himself on babysitting duty. 

It was strange but it was all bits and pieces of the people who loved them, that would always matter more to Angel Dust.

They’d built two cribs but one was just turning into Fat Nugget’s, seeing as the twins refused to sleep apart from each other. The sliver of soft light from the hallway fell across two bundles of back fur, so deeply nestled in a crocheted blanket that Angel could only see enormous ears, a few pink feathers, a tail swaying softly in what he hoped was a sweet dream.

He knelt by their crib, almost afraid to approach, like he wasn’t fit to disturb this perfect scene straight out of a life he still didn’t know how he deserved. He was ninety percent of the way to convincing himself just to watch, to reassure himself they were safe and dreaming sweetly and leave them to it. But even though Angel was as quiet as he could be, even though Husk stayed in the doorway, letting his love have however many moments he needed, one black ear stood up straight, one little form shifted and broke away. A pair of mismatched eyes, one red and one gold, flickered open, a tiny mouth opened in a rose pink yawn. And immediately four little arms were reaching up to Angel, a soft keening was calling for him.

“Hey there, cuddle bug,” Angel gathered up his daughter, Bella, feeling her sleepy warmth as she immediately curled close, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you…or you…”

Because of course Howie was wriggling, trying to squirm towards his sister, paws opening and closing. Angel’s other set of hands gently untangled him from the blanket, lifted him to burrow against his pops’ jacket too. 

Having them both in his arms, Angel felt something click deep inside him, a piece sliding into place. The tears he’d been trying to hold back since he walked through the door spilled hot down his cheeks, making the scratches on his face sting. When he held them, he wondered how he could ever bear to put them down, why he ever bothered looking anywhere else other than their sweet faces. 

How he’d survived without them in his life. 

“Baby…” Husk wound his arms around Angel’s middle, pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“It’s okay,” Angel murmured, leaning into him, letting them hold their babies together, “Happy tears. Promise.” 

Already about to sink back down into sleep, Howie and Bella both purred in perfect, raspy harmony, blinking up at Angel like they were determined to make him the last thing they looked at, like he and Husk were all that was good in the world and nothing else mattered. Here, in the middle of Hell, in the middle of a damnation they’d never earned, his children slept safe and sound because Angel Dust was here. 

Valentino was punishing him, he was trying to break him beyond repair. But Angel would go through a lot worse for these two. There was nothing that fucker could come up with that would make him regret his children, this life he had with Husk. 

“You wanna sit with them a little while?” Husk murmured, smiling when he felt Angel nod in relief.

Fat Nuggets gave up his seat willingly, curling up at Angel’s feet while he folded his lanky frame into the rocking chair, holding the twins close. Husk leaned against the back of it, his wings coming around to circle them protectively, one hand stroking Angel’s arm like he didn’t think he’d had enough loving contact to make up for what he’d been through that day.

“What do you think they dream about?” Husk rumbled, chuckling lovingly as Howie’s paws flexed in his sleep like he was kneading his favorite blanket, as Bella’s tail twitched like she was about to pounce. 

Angel smiled softly, “Dinner time. Chasing dust bunnies. Blankets straight out of the dryer. Hanging off their daddy’s ears.”

He hoped it was all that and more, the small wonders in the life he won for them every single day. He hoped they dreamed about home, the way he did when he was in the studio, trying to get through the day. 

Angel Dust would tell Husk not to wait up for him the next night. But he really hoped he wouldn’t listen.

[cillpiines]

I’VE GOT OPTIONS, RANCHER BUDDY!!

If you wanna go more canon compliant but with a little extra flavor, imagine post-Double Life, the bond isn’t as it was but it isn’t completely severed either. The Ranchers had honed their bond over their short season, it’s got some lingering! Tango takes comfort in the gentle pull of it, the sturdy presence a world away. He's structuring one of his citadel's towers when he feels his string snap without warning. It reverberates through his chest and sends him reeling, both from the force and from losing something that has essentially balanced him. When he's back on the ground, he reaches out through the bond, for the bond, and finds nothing at all. It's terrifying, it's empty, and Tango's at a complete loss.

Why wouldn’t he be at a loss? He doesn’t know what’s going on with his soulmate other than that he’s on a different server as a handsome cowboy and he’s alive. He doesn’t know, but if he did he might see the universe’s reasoning. After all, toys, objects, don't get soulmates

I see you're having a rancher moment would you like to hear my soulbond breakage brain rot :3

HELLO YES I WOULD WHAT DOES THIS MEAN I’M SCARED BUT SO INTRIGUED-

👀 spill it to me rancher buddy

[kopfkino-o]

okay modern acotar au but the setting is a shitty local bar and I might or might not have been tipsy when I wrote this.

Rhys inherited this crusty bar from his business tycoon father and, despite being utterly incapable of maintaining a well respectable establishment, he lowkey loves being able to boss the staff around and enjoys the all the “free” booze whenever he wants. No he does not file taxes. But he has given his wife, Feyre, creative reign over the place and she painted the walls herself, which was definitely a choice, but the patrons don’t really seem to mind the various eyeballs staring down at them so it sort of works for the place.

Cassian works security with Jurian but most nights he is the one who ends up starting something and it lowkey causes a lot of insurance liabilities but Rhys isn't really worried about all that. Cas also can’t stop sniffing after veteran bartender, Nesta, who will definitely throw your ass out if you so much as look at her wrong. The tension between them is causing a lot of “bad vibes” for the bar’s regulars, Lucien and Eris, who only come to this shithole establishment to get away from their dad (he’s sleeping on their couch because their mom left him for another man). Tamlin always wants to hangout, especially on open mic nights, but he doesn’t have a car and Eris refuses to drive a few extra minutes to pick him up because he doesn't want "unnecessary mileage" on his 2008 beat to shit BWM.

Elain works the front well because she’s the only one who can use the bar's new POS system and Mor waits tables because she’s a customer favorite (she's comps drinks for literally everyone). But there’s really no need for three bartenders on every shift (the bar gets like five customers, max) and Nesta definitely has that shit handled, so most nights Mor and Elain just sit out back near the dumpsters drinking wine coolers and gossiping. They occasionally upload TikTok videos with Gwyn and Emerie, two waitresses who work at the restaurant next door, but Rhys and Feyre let it slide because it’s good publicity.

Vassa, Tarquin, and Helion occasionally meet up at the bar after work (they work at the pr firm across the street) but only because the drinks are cheap and their asshole boss, Amarantha, thinks the establishment is "below her", so they don't feel obligated to invite her along. Helion has slept with like half the staff, and has some weird thing going on with one of the regular's mom, but he always tips well and at least he's consistent. Once, Tarquin let Cassian borrow his boat so he could take Nesta on a date, but he crashed it into a dock when he was trying to park and it ended up being this whole thing. Amren, the lawyer Feyre hired, has sorta advised the staff to refrain from talking about all that though.

Azriel, the bar manager, smokes cigarettes in the old walk-in cooler (Feyre painted it one night during a staff party) between shifts and wonders how the fuck he ended up being in charge of keeping this trainwreck running. He would have quit the job five years ago but he needs the money and Rhys at least offers half decent health insurance. The bar occasionally gets letters from Beron, the local health inspector who is totally on Rhysand’s case, but Az just throws them away in the raccoon infested dumpster outback (the girls swear they haven’t been feeding them) and yearns for the day this whole shitshow finally gets shut down.

Oh, the baby? Yeah he handles accounting and the shadow monster in the basement is in charge of the social media. don't ask.

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the fourth part to our established relationship rec list for you! If you'd like to check out the previous parts, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please show these fics love and be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3,557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

2) Comfort Is Found When I'm the Only Thought on Your Mind | Mature | 5,087 words

Prompt 396: Established relationship - very domestic PWP. Louis complains about being out of his favorite moisturizer, and Harry suggests giving him a facial.

3) Stripper | Not Rated | 6,579 words

Harry is a bartender at the same strip club Louis works at. They're a power couple.

4) Call My Love In | Explicit | 6,601 words

And it’s cheeky and bold and so fucking Louis that Harry’s almost blindsided by it, takes it like a slap in the face to be reminded, yet again, that he is so eternally thankful to have found this boy. This boy who will bite at him with words, with teeth, will claw at him with hands, will destroy his heart by loving it fiercely, will put it back together again with a look, with a thought, and is never, ever, afraid to be so utterly himself around him; Harry’s so in love he can’t think straight.

5) Act Out | Explicit | 6,721 words

Harry leans forward so he's closer to Louis's ear, and murmurs, "If I was your husband, I'd never let you out of my sight." It’s ridiculous. He is his husband. There’s hundreds of photos, and official papers, and rings, and two babies with the last name Tomlinson Styles that prove it. But it’s also possessive, and hot and Louis doesn’t know what he was expecting when Harry told him he wanted to try roleplaying a little, but so far he’s not complaining.

6) Alone Too Long | Explicit | 10,371 words

By the time The Temptress finally reached bay, the Captain only had one thing on his mind, and that one thing was Louis Darling.

7) Under the Same Sun | Explicit | 10,662 words

Louis and Harry live 400 miles away from each other. Sometimes it’s hard. (internet boyfriends, indie bands, and happy endings) “I already miss you. I miss you all the damn time.” Louis says, because it’s late enough for honesty.

8) Out Of The Woods | Explicit | 15,560 words

The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a fucking curse.

9) Everything I Do | Explicit | 16,390 words

Harry’s ready, has been for a while now, and he’s fairly certain Louis is too, it just hasn’t been on the top of their priority list. There have been offhand mentions, a comment here and there, more in jest than anything, no serious discussion or consideration. Harry stands up straighter, a stomach-churning thought forming in his mind. Has Louis been waiting for him to ask?

10) Three's A Crowd, Four's A Party | Mature | 16,659 words

Harry and Louis tell their five year old they're pregnant.

11) Were We Ever This Young? | Explicit | 17,296 words

Hogwarts AU in which Harry and Louis both return to give talks to seventh years about the 'real world' with slightly varying results. Inspired by the Chilton scene between Rory and Paris in the new Gilmore Girls.

12) Under the Lights Tonight | Explicit | 20,905 words | Sequel

Note: There is a BH mention.

Harry’s an A-list supermodel, Louis’s his make-up artist boyfriend. They’re something of a dream team.

13) Suddenly They're Right | Explicit | 22,384 words

Louis is a painting professor with an art block the size of Texas and a global superstar for a non-boyfriend, who he wants to keep.

14) Wrote You a Love Letter | Not Rated | 23,092 words

Where Louis writes love letters to Harry through the good and bad times over their years together, until the very end.

15) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25,372 words | Sequel

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks. “When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?” Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

16) Fetish For My Love | Explicit | 27,388 words

Louis has too many worries to even think about a moment of peace in the days that now exhaust him and become a complete rush for him. Fortunately, Harry doesn't take long to take care of the matter as he knows that he has wanted it so much, finding the solution in a particular sheet full of colored stickers.

17) Lovin' Online | Not Rated | 27,627 words

“Huh?” Harry asks, muffled by his forearm. He feels lips on his face and the tip of Louis’ nose against his ear when Louis repeats himself. Brain sluggish with sleep, it takes a moment for him to process the words, but his eyes snap open, and he’s met with darkness. He's got to be dreaming, there’s no way Louis just said what he thinks he said. “What did you say?” He can see the vague shrug from Louis before he turns around to toss the towel with the pile of their discarded clothes. “Did you say…” he starts slowly, automatically slinging his arm around Louis as he gets back into bed and throws the blankets over them. “That we should make a sex tape?” Louis asks rather nonchalantly for such a big proposition. He cuddles easily into the warm body and confirms, “Yes, I did.”

18) Like The Stars Above | Explicit | 33,759 words

Louis has a witchy little secret that is slowly ruining his relationship. When that secret comes out, it turns out that he has a lot more to worry about than just losing the love of his life. He might lose everything.

19) Beneath The Shining Stars | Explicit | 35,207 words

A Hamlet retelling/AU on steroids, where Harry is Hamlet, Louis is Horatio, and comedic chaos ensues (with a dash of tragedy). Featuring the rest of OT5 and the original characters of Shakespeare's "Hamlet".

20) These Hallowed Woods | Not Rated | 35,535 words

Louis becomes Luna of the Tomlinson Pack after the untimely death of his father, the Pack Alpha. Saddled with his newfound responsibility and an unpleasantly demanding pack council, he finds secret respite in the arms of a rogue wolf that camps out just outside his territory. The only problem? The rogue has no idea who Louis actually is, and as Louis falls harder and harder for the man he escapes to every night, the weight of his lies steers him along a path of certain misery.

21) This Glass House | Mature | 42,072 words

While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.

22) Show Me Life Like I've Never Seen | Mature | 42,948 words

Louis never expected to leave the small art studio three blocks down from his job with anything besides the painting he caught a glimpse of and simply couldn't forget.

23) Til' The Darkness Softly Clears | Explicit | 45,430 words

Something thuds nearby, and Callie sits up in bed, eyes still fuzzy from sleep. She yawns and rubs her eyes, looking around the room for the source of the noise. When she doesn’t see anything, she huffs quietly. Sliding to the floor, her feet take her towards the door. At the doorway, something disturbs the silence again: the distant sound of footsteps. Callie holds her breath and creeps out of the room. On the landing, she stands on her toes to peer over the railing. She can see the front door, and, outside, through the windows on either side of the door, she sees a shadow pass by. It walks one way, then disappears from sight for a second before it turns and walks back in front of the door. Callie’s eyes widen, and she backs up from view when the figure pauses its pacing directly in front of a window. Slowly, it turns, and it seems to stare right through the window, directly at her.

24) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73,068 words

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[novelistrry]

Masterlist

Hi everyone,

This is going to be my masterlist for all of my writing I'm posting here on Tumblr! I will link each work with a little preview, the unofficial title, and all of the parts in each piece (most will be multi-part fics).

FULL FICS:

Professor Harry

She looked at the drink in her hand, suddenly feeling demure and childish holding a drink the bartender told her was called Sex on the Beach after she asked for something that doesn’t take like alcohol. He noticed her hesitation and the way her eyes flickered between his drink and her own. “Would you like to try it?”

She nodded her head yes, letting him know that she did want to try it. So badly, she wanted to try it. Not because she wanted to taste the tequila, she was sure it wasn’t very good, but because she wanted to taste where his lips pressed against the glass. She could see the subtle fog where he was placing his lips every time he would take a sip. So, he handed her his drink and when she turned the glass and pressed her lips against where they both knew his lips had once been, he murmured a small, “Christ, Y/N.”

Or

Harry is a young professor and Y/N has never felt this kind of attraction before (Professor!h)

Tropes: Student Y/N, Professor Harry, college AU

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Prince Harry AU (ONGOING)

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

Or

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is insufferable (Prince!h)

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating

Prologue

Part One (The Ruse)

[helianskies]

Fic authors self rec!♡

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

ahhhhh, thank you anon! have a cookie! 🍪 now i believe it's been a while since i last did something like this, so let's have a nose!

(another version of this ask has been answered here!)

i had a lot of fics to go through and decided to exclude my three long-fics to focus on my stand-alone works. so, in no particular order:

Let Me Go — mature, engspa — quite possibly my fave fic i've written from an antonio character study and historical engspa perspective.

“Am I allowed to ask why I am here? Your letter was a little bit… vague on the matter.”

“Yet you still followed it here,” Antonio replied, his smile returning.

“And you were not surprised to see me,” Arthur concurred, albeit, not entirely happily.

“For a simple reason,” the other claimed.

“Oh?”

“I believed you would come. And so you have.”

Holiday — teen+, turkspa — my second favourite antonio character study fic, with a somewhat more modern setting and duo.

It took a little while to sort out papers, but eventually, Mr Mateo Romero Vázquez, a man from some inconsequential town out in Castilla-La Mancha, was driving his little grey car out of the airport carpark and in the direction of the EO16.

His destination was Sarti, a coastal town with beautiful views out across the Aegean sea. A vast blue horizon. A chance to forget.

Fortuna — explicit, engspa — you have no idea what this fic and au mean to me. oh my word. the insanity i feel. the potential. oooh.

“It’s been a few days since we saw you here last,” someone greeted him.

It shamefully wasn’t the bartender, who was caught up further down the line, but instead, a new neighbour. A neighbour who preferred to stand. A neighbour wearing a very nice suit and an expensive wristwatch.

Arthur straightened himself up as he sat in the man’s shadow. Then he glanced at his neighbour, and said, “Miss me?”

“Hardly,” replied Abel with a light scoff.

Encounter — explicit, engport — this fic lives in my head rent-free and i have never looked at lavender soap the same way since. just fyi.

As the world's worst blind date hits rock bottom, Gabriel seeks refuge and privacy in the grotty bathroom of a pub so he can plot his escape. Little does he know that, once the door is locked, there's someone waiting for him who's willing to give him a good time.

Damnatio — explicit, romespa — the start of an obsession, i will admit. though perhaps i should call it a guilty pleasure these days!

The hands that touch him used to be hands that scared him. He used to think that they would maim, hit, bruise, beat—but all they do, it turns out, is hold, caress, stroke, and squeeze in a way so unholy that it feels divine.

[juno-of-wonderland]

Idea:

I give you:

Drabble of Vampire and or Yokai TWST of your choice next ask:

I receive:

Monster AU headcannons of Rook and Idia romance please 🤲🤲🤲

here is your order sir (I added some spoilers for you, but they are very small)

Shadow Lord

-Idia like many other lords was born a vampire -he almost lost his brother to hunters, but as he was already powerful at the time, he managed to transfer his brother's consciousness and essence to a mannequin while he tries to heal his brother's body -he has a lot of dislike for humans, so if he finds one he likes, he will try to keep it close, but if you abandon him, he won't be surprised (he is quite pessimistic) -he will be VERY afraid to ask for your blood, so wait for Ortho to ask for it -his favorite places to bite are the neck, shoulder and wrist -He shows affection through gifts and quality time -no PDA please, especially when it is in the laboratory, you will disfigure it

the wandering hunter

-he loves the beauty of life as much as the beauty of death -he doesn't have a favorite game, but if his prey is stubborn and cunning, he will always make it more interesting -I would try hunts that were close to you, so I could quickly return to your arms -if it is necessary to be away from you for many days, expect letters, like, LOTS OF LETTERS -before leaving, he picks fresh flowers -Tries to teach you French, whether you learn it or not, he will think you are cute

hey dear bartender, would you have some Jack and Floyd from youkai au (can be the vampire if you want) please ^^

[straightupsickfics]

love is embarrassing

sicktember prompt #28: "I should've stayed home" inspired by this post

ed/stede | modern au |4.5k words in which stede drags himself to a first date, get stood up, and meets the very hot, very nice bartender who turns the night around <3

****

Normally, Stede relishes having an excuse to pull together an outfit, to explore his favorite pieces in his walk-in closet, and make something new to wear. 

Today, however, is a rare exception. Stede can hardly bring himself to get up and off the couch, let alone muster the brain power it’s going to take to organize an ensemble, even if it is for a date he has rather been looking forward to all week. 

Well, looking forward to it with a little bit of anxious dread mixed in, something he can never seem to shake when it comes to romance. It’s not like he thought it’d be easy, leaving his wife of fifteen years, letting his children down gently, and starting over completely at the age of forty-five, but he hadn’t really stopped to consider how lonely it would be, either. 

And now, to top it all off, Stede had managed to pick up a truly terrible cold over the last few days. Today it seems to have settled in, made itself at home in his head and sinuses, leaving him exhausted, his eyes and nose streaming in almost equal measure as he works his way through recurring fits of ticklish, damp sneezes. 

He should stay home tonight, he knows this. Instead though, Stede has been hydrating, alternating between water and strong, black tea, and downing cold medicine all day in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his date, David wouldn’t notice. 

Sighing, Stede picks up his phone and finds a text from Lucius waiting for him. 

Lucius: Hello? What, no panicked photos of the outfit? No “what if” date scenarios for me to puzzle through over brunch? Do you hate me?? 

Stede: I don’t do that

Lucius: 🤣 good one

Stede: 😶‍🌫️

Lucius: I’m kidding, you know I live for this, I’m AMAZING at pre-date planning

Stede: The advantages of being young and in love, I suppose… 

Lucius: Oh, god, you’re not getting maudlin even before you go, right? It’s going to be fine, you’re going to put together a ridiculous (but slay) outfit, and he’s going to eat it up. Now, what are we wearing?

Stede looks at the blue sweatpants he would never leave the house in, the t-shirt that should have gone to the Goodwill years ago, and sighs again. He really should have started hours ago. 

Stede: Can I FaceTime you?

Lucius: YES

“Hh! hdt-NGXT! Huh’ushhIEW! Ngh…” Stede tries and fails to smother the sneeze against his fist while he sifts through his options, a teal silk shirt, a lavender sweater, and a bright, mustard yellow button down all wait for him on the bed, and he watches as Lucius winces. 

“Um, bless you? Are you sure you’re not getting sick? Because frankly that was pretty gross and sounded like it probably hurt.” 

“It did, but I’mb finde…” Stede huffs, snuffling discreetly into a handful of tissues. 

“Mm, too many letters in almost all of those words, babe,” Lucius says, wrinkling his nose. “Maybe the outfit you should actually be wearing is one of those hazmat suits.”

Stede pitches the tissues into the trash can and glares at his phone. “I thought you were going to help. This isn’t helping.” 

Lucius arches an eyebrow and rolls his eyes. “Sir, yes sir. I’d go with the lavender. Looks nice with your hair. And you’re a bit pale for the others at present.” 

He’s right, Stede knows, and he is grateful for the help, lucky to have had a work friend turn into a real friend over the last few years, especially as his divorce from Mary was happening, but Lucius had no filter, which was a blessing and a curse most days. 

“Thanks, Lucius,” Stede says now. “I think you’re right, we’ll go with the lavender.” He does love the teal, has worn it on first dates in the past, but tonight it would only serve to draw attention to how completely worn out and pale he looks and feels, and he doesn’t want to deal with that.

Lucius gives him a mock salute in reply, and they chat for a few more minutes before Lucius has to go, warning Stede again to stay home if he was really feeling bad. 

He falters for just a minute. His bed, even covered in clothes (and, okay, tissues) looks so inviting, a part of him wants nothing more than to climb right into it. But he has been looking forward to this, and David had already rescheduled twice.

So, Stede, stubborn as he is, waves Lucius off and sets about the long process of getting dressed, doing his hair, and carefully applying just a little concealer around the red-tinged parts of his nose. This takes the most time, as he finds himself applying and reapplying said concealer every time he has to stop to sneeze or blow his nose, which is far more often than he’d like. 

When he’s finally ready, Stede takes another dose of cold medicine, shoves some cough drops into his pockets along with a travel packet of tissues, and sets out for his date. He’s texting that he’s on his way when he nearly drops his phone as a sneeze (or three) sneaks up on him. 

“hH’UtsshH! Oh ndo… Huh’iiEEshh’uh! Huh-Ngtshh!”

It takes Stede another minute to compose himself, sniffling a good few times into the cuff of his jacket and sighing before he’s in his car and actually on his way to the restaurant, something called Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill that David had picked. 

It was going to be a very long night. 

*

Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill is so far up Stede’s alley he can’t believe he’s never been before now. It’s dark inside, and there’s an understated pirate theme throughout it. Not just a pirate flag and eyepatches, though. There’s an attention to detail there, a clear (to Stede) commitment to historical accuracy that he loves immediately. 

Stede loves piracy, the whole idea of it. People running away to the sea, abandoning whatever haunted them on land, finding a new group of people to belong to…It sounds amazing, sometimes. It might not be — no, it definitely wasn’t—as romantic as Stede makes it out to be in his head, of course; piracy was brutal at the end of the day, but there’s something about it that Stede’s always found fascinating. 

Running away to the sea is certainly something he’d thought about as he first started to come to terms with his sexuality, and the accompanying realization that he’d have to, eventually, tell Mary, therefore upending his entire life. 

Stede has to blink himself back to the present, appreciating the delicate maps along the walls, the artwork of ships and shorelines along the walls, and of course, Blackbeard’s Jolly Roger flag hanging right by the bar. 

He has to do a double take though, looking at the bar, because standing in front of the Jolly Roger is the bartender, who is quite possibly one of the best looking men Stede’s ever seen. He’s laughing at something a customer is saying in front of him, working a cocktail shaker with one heavily tattooed arm (was that a snake?) and setting out a glass with the other hand. His hair is a mix of black and gray, tied up in a half up half down ponytail, and Stede can’t bring himself to look away. 

The drink gets poured, the man turns away to offer more rounds to other patrons, and Stede, eventually, realizes he’s been sitting at the table for over a half an hour with no sign of David. He frowns, picking up his phone, but there’s nothing there. 

Stede: I’m here! Got us a table towards the back.

There’s no reply. 

Twenty more minutes go by, and still, nothing. 

Stede: He’s late

Lucius: Uh oh…

Stede: You don’t think. I mean. He’s coming, right? Just late…?

Lucius: Definitely. Traffic, probably! Btw how are you feeling? 

Stede: Not the best, I’m afraid 

Lucius: :( Hydrate while you wait!!

He’s right, and Stede takes a careful sip of his water. His throat hadn’t been too bad this afternoon, and he’s hoping it stays that way. 

The waitress comes by just then, asking if she can bring anything for him to drink, get him started with any appetizers. He shakes his head, murmuring that he’s just waiting for someone, they’d order when he arrives, and she nods with a smile and walks away. 

It’s not long after that that Stede gives in and checks his phone again. Still no reply. His stomach twists. 

He can’t be getting stood up, tonight of all nights, when he wanted nothing more than to stay home in the first place. Right? 

His nose gives a twinge just then, and Stede fumbles for the packet of tissues he has in his pocket, just bringing them to his nose and mouth as he sneezes four times in quick succession, his eyes and nose streaming by the end of the fit, the sneezes stronger and wetter than they’d been earlier, making them entirely impossible to hold back. 

“hh’uHTSH! Snf! H-hh’uHTSHH! uuhh’TSH! huh’Eeiishh!” The tissues are useless by the end, too, and Stede drags himself to the bathroom to blow his nose in peace, splashing some water on his face for good measure. 

He looks in the mirror, blinking a few times and trying to bring some life back into his face, but there’s no hope, it seems. 

David had been right to stand him up, Stede thinks. He’s a mess. 

Stede: I don’t think he’s coming, I’m afraid :( 

Lucius: Nooo, I’m so sorry. Seriously. Do you want to come over? I won’t even complain about the germs. 

Stede: Thank you, but I’m alright. Think I’ll give it a bit longer, sit at the bar instead of taking over a table, and then head out. 

Lucius: <3 Call me in the morning! 

*

“What can I get you, mate?” The tattooed bartender asks when Stede sits down at the bar. 

“Oh, umb… J-just..huh!’ISH! Sorry, just a glass of Chardonnay?” Wine is probably definitely not a good idea tonight, Stede knows, but he feels like wallowing a little before going home. 

“Sure thing, here you go.” The bartender sets the drink down and gives Stede a small, friendly smile. He really is beautiful. 

“Thanks,” Stede says with a sigh. He looks at the glass and any desire to drink it vanishes. He just feels bad, tired and congested and achy all over. 

“Uh oh, that’s a big sigh for a Saturday night,” the bartender says. The bar is currently empty aside from Stede and a woman sitting at the opposite end, and Stede looks at the man with his dark, kind eyes, and it all comes pouring out. 

“I think I’m being stood up,” Stede confesses. “He rescheduled two times before this, which should’ve been a sign, I guess, but I thought we’d hit it off, texting and all that…” 

“Damn, hate that. Just say you’re not feeling it, yeah? Why make someone feel like shit? S’why I don’t date so much anymore, myself.” 

“You might be onto something there. Maybe I should get cats,” Stede says, sighing again. 

At this, the bartender lights up. “Cats are the best. Love cats. Here, look…” He fishes his phone out of his back pocket and holds it out to Stede. On the lockscreen is a black cat with white feet, curled up on what has to be the bartender’s chest. In the picture, he’s wearing a shirt with a purple octopus on it, his hair down around his shoulders, his face cut off aside from a small smile. 

It’s adorable. 

“That’s Frank,” the bartender says. “Well, Frankfurter, one of his many names.” 

Stede laughs, which turns abruptly into a coughing fit that lasts long enough for the bartender to grab a glass of ice water and place it in front of him. 

“That doesn’t sound great,” he says as Stede takes a sip. 

“Sorry about that. I probably should’ve stayed home,” Stede admits. “Thought I could power through for this date. Though if I’d had the sense to cancel I wouldn’t have been stood up.” 

The man shakes his head. “S’all good. Kind of saw you sitting over there for a while, I wondered why someone like you’d be sitting alone for so long.” 

Stede feels his face flush. Someone like him. What did that mean? 

“In a good way,” the bartender clarifies. “I’m Ed,” he says. 

“Ah. Stede. I’d shake your hand but…” 

Ed smiles, holds up his hand and gives Stede a little air high-five. “There we go.” 

Stede can’t help but smile back, genuinely, for the first time all night. 

They sit there for a while, too long, probably, given how bad Stede feels, but Ed’s so nice, and really very funny, telling stories about the people he gets at the bar, about Frank, about his obsession with the ocean and pirate history. 

“I love pirates,” Stede tells him excitedly. “I actually can’t believe I hadn’t been here before. You must’ve been thrilled to get a job here, then,” he adds.

Ed’s eyebrows lift for a split second, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah, love it,” he says. 

Just then, a shorter, dark-haired man appears from the back, shooting a glowering look at Ed. “If there’s not enough customers, you could always come back and help with the order for next week, Edward,” he says. “Or are you too busy chatting up your guests?” 

Ed frowns, his entire face changing as he turns to reply. “Fuck off, would you Izzy? It’ll all get done, thanks.” 

The man gives a long-suffering sigh and turns, disappearing around a corner, gone as fast as he came.

“Was that… y’know, Blackbeard?” Stede asks, voice low. 

Ed pauses again, then shakes his head. “Mm? No, I’m Blackbeard,” he says with a smile and a gesture to his face. “More scruff than beard these days, though,” he adds. 

“Oh! You… Blackbeard’s is yours?” 

“Yep! That was Izzy, my so-called right hand man. He’s gotten a little too comfortable running the show since he knows I prefer stuff like this,” Ed says, gesturing to the bar. “Just talking to people, you know?” 

Stede nods. “You can tell you really love the place,” he tells him. “Thought so as soon as I came in.” 

Ed smiles, and it’s amazing, really, the way his face lights up at the compliment. “Thanks, man, yeah, Iz thought I spent too much on the decor, but how often do you open the place of your dreams? Really just went for it.” 

“It’s perfect,” Stede agrees.

A comfortable lull falls over their conversation, and Stede takes another small sip of his wine for something to do. He must make a face, though, because Ed’s shaking his head when he looks back up. 

“Think what you should do is let me make you some tea, if you’re staying,” he says. 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do all that. I really should be—” 

“—Would be nice if you stayed,” Ed finishes. 

Oh. 

“Well, if you don’t mind all this,” Stede says, gesturing to his face. He can’t imagine he looks any worse than he had earlier in the bathroom, but he can’t be making a good first impression, either. 

“Nah, you’re good. Most interesting person to come in here in…forever,” Ed says. “Be right back,” he promises, disappearing into what must be the kitchen and coming back a few minutes later, with the promised mug of steaming water and a selection of tea bags for Stede. 

He’s touched. Sure, Ed owns the place, but still, he didn’t have to go out of his way to make Stede tea for his stupid cold. 

The mug has the Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill logo on it, emblazoned across a pirate flag, and the warmth of it warms Stede right through immediately. 

“Mint sounds nice,” he says, grabbing it and letting it steep. He makes the mistake of lifting the mug to his face, the steam immediately shaking something loose in his sinuses, and ends up sneezing another good few times in a row. 

“hd’ISCHuh! Eh’sschIEW! ii’Tiishh’uh! SNF!” Stede takes two more tissues from the pack in his pocket, realizing that he’s down to just one left, and grimaces. 

“God bless you,” Ed says sympathetically. “Makes it even worse that this guy didn’t show up when you went to all the trouble of coming out, feeling so bad and all.” 

“Mm, no trouble. I did have a friend help with the outfit, though,” Stede admits. “One of my first dates after a divorce and all, needed some help.” 

“Good on them, then, that color’s perfect for you,” Ed tells him, and he sounds like he means it. 

Stede gives him a smile but shakes his head. “He did also suggest a hazmat suit.” 

This gets a laugh from Ed, and it’s a lovely sound, one Stede wishes he had the time to get used to. 

Ed seems to realize something all at once. “Wait, did you say first date?”

Stede sinks in his seat a little bit as he nods. “One of the first,” he says. “Though it always feels like the first after fifteen years of marriage to a woman, anyway. Suppose I’m something of a late bloomer,” Stede admits, feeling his face go warm. “Probably too late.” 

Ed softens at this, the surprise on his face washing away. “No such thing as too late, mate. Look at me, I came out at fifteen and look at me, alone with my cat and my bar. Don’t even have a divorce to blame it on.” 

For some reason, this makes Stede’s throat go tight, his eyes stinging with tears. God, he cannot cry because one stranger was being nice to him. 

“Here,” Ed says, pulling a deep red handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Stede with a nod and a small smile and turning away, giving him a minute of privacy. “You probably need this more than I will tonight,” he says.

Stede dabs at his eyes, appreciating Ed’s kindness all the more. 

Stede takes a few deep, steadying breaths and sips his tea as other customers come and go, as Izzy appears and disappears with another disapproving shake of his head, and through it all, Ed always makes his way back to Stede’s end of the bar, offering him more tea, more water, another story or picture of Frank when things slow back down. 

All at once, Stede realizes that he’s having a better time than he’d ever expected to, even if David had bothered to show up for their date. 

“What’s that face, mate? You’re looking like you did when you first came over…oh, fuck, like two hours ago,” Ed says, looking at the time. 

“Two human hours?” Stede gasps. It’d gone by so fast he hadn’t even noticed, though he is definitely more tired now than he’d been before. 

Ed laughs again and Stede wants to bottle the sound of it. He really must be delirious from this cold.

“Human hours,” Ed confirms. 

“You know, I think I’m actually glad he didn’t show up? It’s been so lovely talking to you, Ed,” Stede says. 

“Same goes,” Ed says with another one of his warm smiles. “This is the most fun I’ve had at work in ages, maybe ever.”

This feels like the best first date Stede’s ever been on, though he keeps that thought to himself, along with a firm reminder that this is definitely not a date.

*

Another hour passes in the blink of an eye, and Stede shifts in his seat, the tell tale twinge somewhere in the back of his sinuses letting him know that very soon, he’s going to need more tissues than he has at the moment. He really should be getting home and into bed, starting the process of sleeping off this wretched cold. Though, as miserable as he feels, the night hadn’t been a total loss after all, thanks to Ed. 

“Well,” Stede says, sniffling, “I think I’d better get home. If my eyes get any heavier I’ll be asleep right here on your bar, and no one wants that.” He’d intended it to come across as a joke, but his voice is so wrecked from this cold and the all too recent tears that it comes out just as run down and, frankly, sad as he feels. 

“Mm, yeah, no, might get a crick in your neck,” Ed says, as if that’s the only problem with what Stede said, and not the million and one sick person germs he’d be leaving behind. He smiles at Stede, the way he has been the whole night, while making him laugh, while making him feel better about being stood up, while pouring him drinks he claimed were on the house. 

“Exactly,” Stede says, returning the smile. His head really does feel heavy though, his sinuses throbbing with the cold he’d pushed off and ignored for far too long tonight. He pictures his bed, a safe haven despite its emptiness, and stands up before he can change his mind. He’s strangely reluctant to leave Ed, funny, kind Ed, but it’s really for the best, leaving before Stede gets one of his crazy ideas. Like thinking that Ed could possibly, actually like him. 

It’s Ed’s job to be nice to strangers, Stede reminds himself. 

He’s just doing his job. 

“Well,” Stede begins. “Thank you, again, truly, for being so nice to me tonight. I’ve been quite a mess and this … really helped,” he says, too honestly, he’s sure of it, given the way his eyes sting and his sore throat thickens with the threat of yet more tears. God, he really does have to get out of here. 

Ed looks at him, his gaze lingering on Stede’s face. The restaurant’s emptying out now, people finishing the last of their glasses of wine, letting their dates wind down before they head home, and Stede feels that familiar twinge in his gut, a mix of jealousy and longing. It would be nice to go home with someone, that’s all. Or home to someone. 

The sound of Ed’s voice breaks him out of his pathetic thought spiral. 

“You’ll have to let me know when you get home,” Ed says, sliding his phone onto the bar and over to Stede. “Can’t have you falling asleep at the wheel, I’d never forgive myself.” He gives Stede an encouraging little smile before turning to grab an empty glass a few feet away. 

“Oh, I barely drank anything! I’ll be alright, I promise, you don’t need to worry about me,” Stede says. He’s a very safe driver, even with his cold-foggy head, he can make the fifteen minute drive home no problem, and he really had only taken a few sips of the wine two hours ago. 

Ed turns back around to face him, amusement written across his face. “M’trying to get your number here, mate,” he says simply, as if it’s nothing, and not something that has never—literally never—happened to Stede Bonnet. 

“Oh,” Stede says, face flushing as he realizes. 

Ed just lifts his phone and unlocks it, handing it to Stede again. “For safety reasons,” he says with a wink. 

Stede enters his number with hands that feel, suddenly, a little shaky, adds his name, and hands the phone back to Ed. 

“Stede Bonnet (from the bar)” Ed reads out, smirking. “Thank god you specified, now I won’t get you confused with all the Stede Bonnets I’ve met elsewhere…” 

“Oh, well, I didn’t— I just thought…” Stede tries. 

“S’all good, Stede, really. There we go…” He types something and nods and Stede’s own phone lights up immediately. 

Stede reads the message: Edward Teach (Born on the beach)

“Were you actually?” He asks, intrigued. 

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t,” Ed says mysteriously. “You’ll have to find out. Over dinner or something. Not here,” he adds. “When you’re feeling up for it.” 

Stede’s pretty sure all the DayQuil he’d been chugging all day has caught up with him, because there’s simply no way this is happening to him right now, not when he looks and feels like this. Ed is gorgeous, all warm, dark skin under his tattoos, his salt and pepper hair falling out of his half ponytail just a little at this point, the rest hanging over his shoulders. Not to mention the perfect, deep brown eyes that Stede’s been entirely too captivated by all evening, it’s… 

It’s too good to be true, surely. It’s too much. 

“Sorry, too much?” Ed says, reading his mind. “I have a tendency to come on a little strong, or so I’ve been told.” 

“No!” Stede says quickly. “Not at all, you’re perfect. This just… doesn’t happen to me,” he confesses. “And I’ve been sniffling and sneezing at you all evening, and you’re so, well handsome… and…” He trails off again helplessly. 

“And so are you,” Ed says easily. “And hey, if you manage to look this good when you feel this bad, I’m going to be fucking in for it next time, aren’t I?” He winks again. “You really should go, though, you look dead on your feet, and you’ve been through it tonight. Not to mention listening to me rambling all night,” he grins. 

Stede nods. “I’ll text you when I get home,” he says, smiling down at his phone. He’ll collapse into bed, and text Ed, and let him be sweet and kind to him and wish him a goodnight. 

And, for once, Stede’s confident that these texts won’t go unanswered. 

“Holding you to that,” Ed says. “Goodnight, Stede Bonnet from the bar.” 

Stede’s still smiling when he unlocks his front door and sends the promised text to Ed. 

*

The next morning, Stede has a few texts waiting for him. 

Lucius: Sign of life check, hellooo?? What ended up happening last night???

Edward Teach (Born on the beach): Morning, Stede from the bar, hope you’re not feeling too bad! If you want I could…bring you breakfast on the way into work this morning? If you don’t mind giving a strange man your address, that is 

David: So sorry! I overscheduled myself last night, can we try again next week? 

Stede deletes the text from David, then deletes his number all together. Good riddance. 

He promises Lucius he’s alive, just sick, and promises to call him later to fill him in. This leads to a flurry of new texts full of question marks and eye emojis. 

Stede: Good morning, Ed! Thank you again for last night. And you’re hardly a “strange man” after that! I really did have a wonderful time in spite of it all. I do feel pretty gross this morning, though :( Can we raincheck breakfast to one we can have…together? 

Edward Teach (Born on the beach): I’d love that 

[mushiemellows]

Okay so I don’t know if I’ll fully flush it out but I DO want to one day write a full cowboy/western au with my own spin on things. I think the main character would actually be Koby sent from the local Militia General to give a letter to Jinbei. Jinbei’s the appointed sheriff of Mil Solada, a flamboyant little town that’s a bit off the grid. So young Koby comes to town and is introduced one instance at a time to its residents. But he starts to realize slowly that it’s not quite the town the Militia thinks it is because, in fact, it’s entirely occupied by the Strawhat Gang. Jinbei’s not actually the law here, because he serves under the boss Luffy. And the letter Koby’s delivering is the summons to Ace’s hanging.

Nami- owns the bar/inn. Big time swindler, gambling queen, certified weighted dice and trick card champion. Will kill a bandit for $5.

Sanji- bar’s chef (but mostly the bartender). Wears the silliest little suits and everyone calls him a city boy.

Brook- bar’s musician at the piano, LOVES to score a fist fight. Also hangs out at the ends of town scaring off rogues that try to come for the boss’s bounty.

Zoro- a full, classic ass Kurosawa samurai.

Usopp- traveling storyteller/toy maker/puppeteer with the caravan and everything, but don’t think he’s a weak mark because he’s a wicked fuckin shot when push comes to shove. (The caravan has a beautiful carving of a ram along the top)

Robin- FIRST OF ALL Native Robin. second of all? Book collector, printing press star. She’s distributing pamphlets. And she’s snapping necks.

Franky- is totally into the big technological boom. The photograph. The telegram. He’s trying to get wires out to Mil Solada but they’re so far from the train line (train accident took an arm, mine explosion took a leg). Also someone need to help Robin with her Grasshopper press when it needs maintenance ohhh nooo. General town handyman BUT he’s working on a wagon that’ll totally kick Usopp’s caravan’s ass in a race.

Jinbei- like I said. Sheriff. Assumed law but he’s actually just using his placement as cover for everyone else to do as they will. Has a significantly different view of justice than the bastards at the Militia, so he’s letting Luffy and the gang act on that justice while turning a blind eye.

Luffy- simply wants to build a town where EVERYONE can be free.

And as he gets adjusted to this strange place, maybe Koby’s realizing just how wrong he’s been about how the world works.

Jinbei gets the letter about Ace and is planning on protesting by not going, but Luffy sees it and starts to plan the Cowboy Raid Of the Century. Full guns blazing. And the plan goes perfectly to save Ace with not a single hiccup, no sir 🙃