#....forget to tip your server

[theehorsepusssy]

[shirakow]

I was wondering if you could write some Vincent x reader smut from dead plate? There’s barely any on this site and I need my fix😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ synopsis ꒱ ; Vincent's always so mean to you, especially at work. (18+)

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Vincent Charbonneau x GN!Reader .

. . . words ; 1.3k+

EXTRA ! here you go boo, sorry if it's not up to your expectations ^3^ I wrote this in one sitting at 3 am so this is not proof read <3

"I'm mean to you?" Vincent frequently asked you on multiple occasions, only because you brought it up once and now he wouldn't let it go.

He'd unexpectedly corner you near the dumpster whenever you take the trash out—it wasn't the most romantic meet-up spot, even he knows—but it's the only place where he could be alone with you.

That or his office. But it's not like he can call you there every hour of the day, or else the chefs and Rody might get suspicious, right? So he only does it every few days.

This day is one of the few.

"Have you been watching Rody like I told you to?" He'd ask you in that same deep and brooding voice of his—charming, with a hint of danger that always lingered in his tone whenever he talked.

You just looked up at him with tear stained cheeks as he stared back down at you, "Oh right," the corner of Vincent's lip quirked upward upon remembrance. "I forgot your mouths too full." He pushed your head back down on his cock, forcing you to deepthroat him as a gutteral moan came out from his mouth.

"There we go... At least you're good for something..." Vincent whispered breathlessly, momentarily forgetting that he needs to be quiet, or else someone'll hear him and catch the two of you in such an embarrassing predicament.

However, he could just play it off: say he stubbed his toe while he makes eye contact with Rody while you keep sucking him off from under his desk. He'll make sure to start small talk with Rody too just to embarrass you further.

You gagged and drooled all over his dick, the ache in your throat growing more immense the more he continued to fuck it like his personal fleshlight. But despite the pain—you slobbered all over his cock like a fucking prostitute.

Vincent let his head fall back as his teeth bit down on his bottom lip with a silent curse following after it. His slender fingers loosened it's hold on your hair, giving you a moment of respite to breathe and slow your pace down.

Noticing the way you hesitated to continue, Vincent ran his hand down to caress your throat; gently massaging and rubbing the skin with his cold fingers.

"Was I being too hard on you?" His voice purred almost teasingly. You slowly nodded with tears rolling down your cheeks, silently enjoying the way he gave attention to your aching throat. You took his wet cock out your mouth, and gave the bright red tip a kiss, before running your tongue down the side—tracing the veins while maintaining eye contact with Vincent.

You saw the glint that appeared in his raven eyes, "What?" Vincent let out a breath which you assumed was a laugh, "Is this your way of begging?" He gave a small grin. Vincent moved his hand away from your throat, which earned a whine from you.

"Don't worry," he hummed and parted your lips, using his thumb to toy with your tongue as he pumped his cock, "I'll massage it from the inside..." Vincent whispered and slapped the tip on your tongue, "Now be a good little cocksucker and keep my dick in your mouth."

Vincent's always so mean to you, regardless if you were in and out of work. But he's especially so when you're at work.

Sometimes, he'd finger your hole before opening hours, stretching it to his hearts content while whispering all kinds of things into your ear.

"Imagine how they'll react when they see my server bent over my desk..."

"Having you walk around with a toy in your ass while you work...~"

"And the fact you're just letting your boss have his way with you too? Aren't you just a naughty thing."

And then when you're about to cum, Vincent would pull his fingers out and make you lick them clean. You'd beg and beg for him to make you cum, but Vincent only shoves his fingers down your throat to shut you up.

He'd have a grin on his face while he does it too, because he knows how much you hate it when he leaves you aching for more.

Right before you leave his office, he would put a pink vibrator in your hole and let you prance around the whole restaurant with him knowing you have something in you to remember him by.

He'd occasionally turn the level up by one, but most of the time, he'd turn it up to max just to see you squirm from the pleasure. Vincent would watch you from the hole in his office as his hand fisted his cock at the sight of you flushed with embarrassment.

Vincent felt so dirty whenever he does that, but he can't deny that acting the slightest bit perverted didn't turn him on.

He doesn't make any exceptions, however. So if you mess up at all during work hours: he will not let it slip. Even if it's because you have a toy in you, Vincent will not hesitate to punish you after closing hours.

If you let even the slightest moan out your mouth—best believe you're gonna get ravaged.

"I told you... Not to make a fucking noise." Vincent panted into your ear, tightening the belt around your neck as he takes you from behind. Your perky ass bent over his desk while he drills his cock into your hole.

Vincent reached for vibrators remote, and turnt it up to the max level; feeling it vibrate against your gummy walls along with his dick that rubbed your prostate. "Feel that? Feel my cock kissing the deepest parts of you?" He groaned against your shoulder.

You squealed into the gag, the overstimulation being too much for your poor sensitive body. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head from the sweet pleasure he gave you. If it weren't for the ball in your mouth, you'd be screaming Vincent's name over and over again like a prayer.

Your face was flushed with sweat dripping from your forehead, and down to the discarded news paper articles of missing people on his desk.

He gave the leather belt another tug, and you made a choking sound. Vincent grunted at the noise you made, finding pleasure in knowing he controls your breathing.

He could cut it off if he wanted to, but he's not that mean.

"Is it too much? Am I making you go lightheaded?" He teased while giving a particularly sharp thrust.

Your toes curled as you cried. You shook your head and held onto the desk tightly. You felt your vision going dark, like you were about to pass out. Luckily, Vincent slowed to a stop and turn the vibrator down a level to give you a break.

At first you saw it as a blessing, but it quickly became a curse when you felt your release slipping away from you. More tears rolled down your rosy cheeks as you sobbed, babbling incoherent nonsense both from the pleasure and because of the ball gag.

Vincent grinned and used his hand to turn your head towards him, "You sound so pathetic..." He pushed your head down flat onto his desk, pulling all the way out and thrusted back in.

The tip of his cock kissing your prostate as he moaned. "Don't worry... I'll give it to you soon enough."

He's such a meanie.

© shirakow ! Reblogs are greatly appreciated .

I'm starting to get into soul eater so expect something from that !! Also keep those requests coming <3 I love writing for you guys (even though I rarely post anymore)

ㅤ

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Soju Smash

Dom! Felix x Sub! Reader Synopsis: Teasing at the bar causes Felix to take out his pent up energy on you. Warnings: SMUT, oral (f. rec), fingering, unprotected p in v, semi public sex, spit, degradation. A/N: Here's your drink order sweetpea! I hope it's up to standard. Check out the menu below & place an order with @breakmeoff Larie's Libations - Soju Smash [Soju] - Felix [Soda] - Bar [Citrus Rind] - Kinks (Spit, Degradation) Please don't forget to tip your server and don't hesitate to let us know if we can get you anything else!🍹

The bar is dimly lit, smokey, and busy. Drinks flow; celebrations are in order and your boyfriend has earned it. Finishing this latest album while on a world tour is no small feat.

Under the table your hand has been on Felix’s thigh slowly inching upward. He’d been shooting you warning glares the whole night, and yet in your defiance, paid no mind to it at all. Truth be told you wanted to go home as soon as possible. Months without your boyfriend were hard, and those first few days when he got home were like heaven. As much as you loved the boys, you could see them in a week, but Chan was determined to have everyone together tonight. So here you sit with your boyfriend and many sexually frustrating urges.

As everyone orders another round, you excuse yourself to the bathroom for a moment. You open the door to the restroom, the aesthetic of class and elegance flows fluidly.

You touch up your make up, the sound of the door opening catching your attention and you notice Felix is the one walking in. You quirk your brow at him, curious as to what he’s doing.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” You say as he locks the door behind him and you apply your lip gloss.

He simply leans against the wall, his eyes undressing you right then and there.

“I didn’t even wanna come tonight,” he states casually.

“I wanted to go home, cuddle you,” he smirks as he stalks over to you, “Kiss you,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, staring at you in the mirror.

“Feel you,” he breathes in your ear.

“And then, I’m asked to come out to get drinks, and you insist on being such a bad girl,” he says, eye contact direct in the mirror, his eyes darker than normal, body somehow appearing larger in stature and you feel small under his gaze. You draw your freshly glossed lip between your teeth.

“Such a naughty little girl,” he says lowly, tongue flicking out over the shell of your ear as his hand comes up around your throat possessively.

You whimper in response, make up abandoned on the sink in front of you.

Felix spins your around, gripping your jaw with his hand, a smirk on his lips as he stares down at you, cocky and in complete control.

“Open,” he says simply and you immediately obey. Felix shakes his head with amusement.

“So desperate for me.” He taunts. Your mouth waters as he spits directly into it.

“Swallow,” he commands and you instantly do. You feel a damp spot between your thighs, his dominance causing a dull ache. He notices your thighs squeeze together in your instinct to get some sort of friction.

“Not to mention this dress.” He tuts, hand roughly separating your thighs. He moves his hand to your panties, chuckling lowly as he feels them.

“God you’re such a mess for me, been thinking about having me fuck you all day, hmm?” Your cheeks dust pink as you look to the side.

��Hungry for my cock?” he mumbles in your ear as his fingers start to rub your over your underwear. You brace against him, between his body and the sink, trying to stay steady.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper as his fingers quickly move your panties aside and start rubbing tight little circles on your clit. Your hips grind as Felix inserts his middle finger, languid, lazy strokes in and out of you, curling slightly hitting your sweet spot painfully slow and your head rests against his shoulder.

“Aww, poor baby, can’t even keep it together while my fingers are shoved deep inside you? How pathetic,” he taunts and bites the lobe of your ear.

Your walls squeeze him at his words, earning a groan from him.

“Felix, please.” You breathlessly ask as he picks up the pace.

“Oh, what was that? Let me hear you.” He drawls as your hips grind harder against him.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers like the filthy brat you are.” He grunts as the bottom of his palm brushes your clit. Your hips quickly start to loose their rhythm. And just as the coil in your stomach tightens, Felix pulls his hand away.

“Felix, what the fuck.” You snap your head up. He lifts you up onto the counter, dropping to his knees, and slips your underwear off.

“You won’t need these.” He smirks as he hands them you. He spreads your folds with his fingers. Licking a stripe up your dripping cunt, he groans at your taste.

“Months without you,” he shutters as his cock twitches in his pants, before spitting on your clit directly, watching it coat the area slick. His mouth devours you, your hips jerking, back against he mirror, left hand in his hair as your right helps you brace to hold yourself up right.

Your eyes screw tight, gasping as you feel your orgasm quickly approach again.

“Harder, Lix, please,” you beg in-between gasps; mouth falling open. Felix moves his tongue along your clit, hitting the most sensitive part feeling pleasure and slightly painful sensitivity mix and your orgasm explodes out of you. Your body shakes as you cum on his tongue. He quickly swallows it with a satisfied hum.

Felix smirks, watching your chest heave up and down as your eyes are half lidded, unsure of if the rest of the bar could hear you or not. Felix stands up, chin and lips shiny. He smiles, kissing you as he undoes the belt on his pants and slips them down, revealing his achingly hard cock.

He lines him self up, bring your pelvis to the edge of the sink. You feel the tip press at your entrance, but Felix restrains himself, smirking.

“Beg,” he smirks confidently as he grips your throat, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Lixie,” you whine, face turning red.

“Come on, angel, show me how desperate you are for my cock. Beg.” The embarrassment floods your veins as you take a deep breath. Felix’s face expectant and cocky.

“Please,” you whimper, and he smiles.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, Felix. I need you, I need your cock fucking me stupid,” you announce as your hips desperately try to move towards him, but to no avail.

Felix chuckles victoriously, thrusting his hips up, bottoming out in you in one fluid motion. Your mouth goes to his shoulder, muffling your noises.

“No, no, no,” he tuts, “I wanna hear every little sound that comes from that pretty little mouth of yours. I want everyone,” he says as he pulls out and slams back in causing you to cry out, “in this bar to know my name, and know I’m the one making you feel so,” he repeats his actions, earning another loud, pornographic moan from you, “damn good,” he says as he begins to find a rhythm.

His tip kisses your cervix and Felix moves your body closer to him, burying himself impossibly deeper.

Your head falls back, catching sight of your reflection.

“See the way you tremble because of me?” he smirks.

“How you fucking shake, because of my cock,” he grunts. Hips snapping against yours.

Your body jolts up on the counter, eyes are screwing shut.

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” he pants.

“Lix,” you gasp, head snapping back up, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper in his ear.

“Hold it,” he says brows furrowed. Your nails delve into the jacket on his shoulders.

“Fuck, baby on three, ok? Look at me,” he grips the base of your hair and pulls your head back to look at him.

“one,” he grunts, hips trying to lose their rhythm.

“two- fuck,” he says as your walls suck him in.

“Three, Cum for me baby, make a mess all over my cock.” He breathes as his hips snap harshly and both of you let out sinful sounding noises as your mutual release is achieved.

He pulls out of you slowly, watching the way his cum leaks out of you for a moment. He grabs a paper towel dampens it and carefully cleans you up.

He tosses it in the trashcan and cups your face, peering into your eyes, his own soft and concerned.

“You ok, baby?” he cradles your face gently, voice soft and sweet like syrup.

“I’m ok,” you breathe, a lazy, satisfied smile and hooded lids gracing your face. You kiss his lips passionately before sliding your panties on and hopping off the counter, legs slightly wobbly.

Felix helps you steady yourself, kissing your cheek once you nod your head that you’re ok.

“Are we staying for more drinks?” you ask innocently.

“Hell no. I’m taking you home.” He smirks as the two of you walk out of the bathroom, hand in hand and take a straight shot outside to the car.

Tags:@idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi @thelovelybireader @crystal005 @velvetmoonlght

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Love notes and comments are great appreciated!

[radiohao]

princess treatment with nct wish (but it's stupid)

pairings: nct wish hyung line x f!reader

warnings: jokes abt hitting someone, fluff, crack, pinching riku's ear bc he's loud as hell

wc: 671 (haha six seeven)

oh sion:

SPRINTS to any door while cackling like a maniac because he knows you get embarrassed when he opens doors for you

"m'lady," he says while tipping an imaginary hat, trying SO HARD not to laugh

"oh sion, i'm going to smACK you across the head."

holds all your purses and bags for you and pretends like they're dumbbells, lifting them up while unnecessarily shaking

"babe, make sure to spot me!" his biceps are flexing as if the bags are heavy... and did some sweat just roll down his temple??

"let's go HOME, sion."

"no, wait! just four more reps!'

"H O M E."

"I NEED TO BEAT MY PR!!!"

what a drama queen oh my god

you pretend you don't know him in public

boyfriend? you don't have one

always keeps an extra pair of footwear in his car just in case your feet start hurting, but sometimes he forgets so instead he piggybacks you

"don't worry babe, i always come prepared!" he opens the trunk of his car and there are no shoes in sight

"...well not today bUT i can just carry you!" he says proudly, but the sheepish smile on his face gives him away

"it's okay babe, i'll just go barefoot" you suggest

"what? NO! yOU CANT WHAT IF SOMETHING PRICKS YOUR FOOT-"

"we'll be walking on sand, sion."

"nonono, i'll carry you. i insist."

"we can't enjoy a stroll along the beach when you have to carry my weight on your back" you deadpan

"who said we can't?"

you sigh, but the smile on your face betrays you anyway

turns out he was right, you can enjoy walks on the beach even while sion piggybacks you

maeda riku

kisses the back of your hand before a date like you're a disney princess

"you look absolutely dashing tonight, my love," he coos while he presses kisses to your knuckles

"okay, prince charming," you say with a laugh

makes you link arms with him when out in public

he's literally TERRIFIED to lose you in the crowd even though you're grown

when you let go his breaths get short and he starts sweating and he feels like he's getting pale

but in reality you're literally in the next aisle like girl bye

"honey??? WHERE'D YOU GO??? HONEEYY-"

"MAEDA RIKU STOP SCREAMING!!"

"PRINCESS WHERE ARE YOU COME BACK!!?!!?"

you RUN to the aisle where riku is and pinch his ear before linking your arm with his

"oh, there you are."

"i'm never coming to this store again, they're gonna think i have a crazy ass boyfriend."

ties your shoes for you all the time. and i mean ALL the time.

"baby wait, your shoes are untied."

"huh? but i'm wearing heels?" you question

he kneels down and literally ties imaginary shoelaces

keep in mind this is all in a public server

you grAB riku's arm and pull him up

"you just love embarrassing me, don't you?"

he gives you the signature grandpa laugh and you can't help but laugh back

"always."

tokuno yushi

pays for everything no matter how stupidly low or high the price is

"allow me," yushi says as he pulls out his card

"...these are floss picks? that are 3 bucks????"

"allow me." he repeats

"oh my god- i literally have my card out already-" you push his arm and begin to insert your card into the reader

ur bf basically SNATCHES it out without saying a word and puts his own card in

"doesn't matter, i'm paying anyway."

lets you decorate all his things

ALL his things

one day he goes to brush his teeth

um why does his toothbrush have stickers on them??

"love? did you put these on here?"

"noooo..." you say while holding the sticker sheet behind you

he laughs and rolls his eyes playfully

"it's cute. i like it. it's cute."

"you said 'it's cute' twice."

"i take it back, it's hideous."

has a lot of your frequently used products on hand

"crap, i forgot my dry shampoo!" he shoves the mini dry shampoo bottle into your face

"oh! thanks, baby. what the hell? where did my brush go-"

"here." "thank you! ugh, you're an angel. i keep losing my stuff!"

he totally does NOT take your essentials out of your bag so he can be the one to provide

haha that would be weird

(yushi took it all out before you left the house)

-

author's note: WOOO HAPPY 10 FOLLOWERS EVERYONE 🥳🥳🥳🥳 thank you for all the love on my other posts i cannot believe the amount of likes i'm getting!! again, please feel free to send requestsss!! like or reblog if you enjoyed! i love you all soooo much and have a good night! :))

[hungry-4-both]

This is a SnUber @deliberatecontrarian

Always travel in pairs

[bilolli]

Okay gotta write this down real quick before I forget about it bc rn I can't draw.

Hospitalized Sun and Moon have to periodically pass maintenance tests to prove they are in tip top condition to care for their patients. It's the law, they must be upgraded with the lastest medical knowledge and get oiled and all that.

To do their maintenance they have to leave their patient in the hands of other human or robotic medical staff and they have no way of knowing what happens to them due to the fact that they have to turn off any kind of connection to the hospital local server to upgrade.

So then...

Sun, entering y/n room after he was absent for the entire morning due to his maintenance session, freezes looking at y/n perfectly made bed and absence of most of their things.

It's not possible. It was a good day today, he asked you before going to his appointment. He was going to ask to reschedule if it was one of those bad days.

He only stayed away for something like 5 hours.

Why was the room so...clean. You were messy, you usually left your things at the end of the bed or around the room...now he could only see your pajama neatly folded on the chair.

Where were you?

Where were you?

Where were you?!

Then someone tapped his right shoulder, he turned around only to see...nothing.

"ha! Got you!" Came from his left side.

He turned around and just stared.

Your cheeks were slightly red, probably due to the stairs you had to take to return to your room with your jacket on. A nurse behind you. Ah, you probably just returned from the garden.

"stunned by the amazing work I did I see. You always complain that I'm too messy so while you were at parts and services I decided to reorganize the room. Then you were taking too long and we decided to go take a walk outside"

Oh...oh.

You were ok, he...what was he thinking. You-

Without thinking Sun picked you up in a tight hug and spun you around while the nurse yelped and told him to "be more delicate!"

"you did a frightening job sunshine! But I think I liked your mess better!"

"what?!"

"time to do some art and crafts to bring some personality back in this room!"

The nurse left with a wave of his hand and a sigh while you grinned at him.

What were you doing to him?

[peacheeeliz]

031. there it is (wc: 868)

“You are just too cute when you're drunk, you know that, right?” You question, squeezing Sunghoon's cheeks with your palms. His lips form a pout, forcing a quiet laugh out of you. “I obviously need to pay more attention to you, or you just drink bottle after bottle.”

A movie plays quietly in the background, long forgotten as the two of you went through various soju bottles. Not long after arriving, Sunghoon was able to find his place right next to you on your couch, sharing his convenience store goodies with you for your last-minute dinner plans together. A moment so familiar, yet your cheeks grow a nice pink color at the closeness between you two – and it wasn't the alcohol speaking.

The man nods, staring at you with heavy-lidded eyes as he nuzzles closer into your hand. You freeze at the action, hair standing up down your arms. “Please pay attention to me alllll the time,” he mumbles, holding one of your hands with his. “All I need is your eyes on me, baby.”

“Who knew being drunk would make you so bold,” you tease, softly rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “And affectionate. Didn't think you could get even more cuddly than before.”

“Only for you, my beautiful wife,” he whispers, escaping your hold on his face and falling straight into your arms. He buries his face into your shoulder, “being with you makes me so happy.”

“Aww, hubby,” you start, hands finding their way to his back and gently stroking the fabric of his shirt. “Being with you makes me happy, too.”

He grows silent for a moment, maybe because he's content in your arms. Or maybe his mind is racing, and his heart is pounding right out of his chest, struggling to come up with even a word to say next. “Now that Third Life is coming to an end,” he pauses, never looking up to meet your eyes. “Will we still be… I don't know… married?” He questions but doesn't give you the chance to respond. “I know Newly Weds will always be popular amongst the fans, and we'll always be friends, but… I like how it is now. Being married to you.”

“You like being married to me?” You ask. It's all you can muster, as your thoughts are running wild at the man's question.

He nods, finally lifting his head up to look at you. “I love being married to you,” he answers, his eyes sparkling. “The idea of you teaming up with someone other than me makes me sick. What if people start shipping you with them instead? And forget about us?”

You smile at him sweetly, hand finding his cheek again with a soft touch. “Hoonie, no matter who I team up with or get shipped with,” you pause, struggling not to laugh at his wavering eyes. “They will never be you.”

He goes quiet again, really taking the time to process your words. He lowers his head back into your shoulder, face heating up all the way to the tip of his ears. “You can't just say shit like that, Y/Nie…” He murmurs, shaking his head. “I can't handle it.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you tease, patting the back of his head with a quiet laugh.

He lifts his head up once more, eyes bright as they stare up at you. “Your baby, right?”

“Hey, if I can't say stuff like that, neither can you,” you joke, soothing his hair back. Still, he only responds with a pout. You let out a soft sigh, “but, yes. My baby.”

A smile grows across his face, reaching his hands up to cup your cheeks. Despite initiating it, the proximity between the two of you has his mind going haywire. “God, I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be with you,” he mutters, taking a deep breath. “If only it was more than just some fake marriage from a Minecraft server.”

You're taken aback by his bold words, eyes wide at the fact that just a few drinks would have all this spilling out of him. “Who says it has to be just that?” You question, tilting your head to the side.

His stomach turns, and his heart begins pounding even hard – if it was even possible – and his head dips down again. “What did I say about saying stuff like that?” He whines even more as you laugh at his response.

“You said it first!” You say, struggling to hold back your laughter. “Come on, say it again,” you continue, urging him to look back up at you. “I wanna hear you say it again.”

“You're evil,” his pout returns, looking back at you with almost glossy eyes. When you don't say anything else, he sighs. “... I want more than this,” he pauses. “I want more than some weird Minecraft series ship… Y/N, I want you.”

“There it is,” you tease, a big smile playing on your lips. You tilt his head up by his chin, adoring the way his cheeks flush at the situation. “God, have I told you how cute you are?”

“Many times,” he answers.

“Good,” you reply, leaning in until his lips meet yours.

synopsis ⤏ popular youtubers team up on all new minecraft smp, quick to name themselves the "newly weds" after sunghoon gifts y/n a poppy. but will these romantic endeavors between the two just be "for the lore," or will feelings blossom?

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[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ⟡ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.4k

⟢ warnings/tags: is profanity a tw pls lmk actually, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, accidentally wrote an anxious!reader, trying out that headcannon where remus is a bit of a hothead, only lightly grammar checking this series bc i just wanna have fun w it

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: here, bc i gotta chill and write something light for once. i think this will be an ongoing fic. also im not beating the mentioning tea in ever fic allegations anytime soon how does this always happen.

“Welcome in! How many in your party?”

“Oh! No, I’m Y/N. It’s my first day.” Your fingers pitter patter nervously on the host stand.

“You’re the new waitress!” the bubbly hostess exclaims, “I’m Mary! It’s so nice to meet you. Stay right there, I’ll go get the manager.”

She disappears into the busy restaurant, leaving you rocking back and forth on your heels nervously.

Mary, you repeat the name in your mind, recalling what she looked like so that you wouldn’t forget who the name belongs to. You had a thing with learning names—you just hated forgetting them. It felt so humiliating to have to ask someone to remind you of their name. One time, you worked with someone for months and their name lived on the tip of your tongue the entire time. Luckily, they quit before it ever came up.

“There she is! Ready for day one?” The manager, Nate, greeted as he followed Mary back to the host stand.

Not in the slightest. You always hated first days, with all the pressure to make a good impression. Not to mention it’s only the start to the slow climb over the learning curve. You hold out hope that everyone will be as nice as Mary seemed, it would make today a lot easier.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, straightening out your black shirt. The dress code for this job was essentially the color black from head to toe. You used the lack of a formal uniform to your advantage, expressing your personal style as much as you could within the confines of business casual.

Nate clapped his hand together, “Right, first up is a tour and introductions. I have all your paperwork already, right? So, after that we’ll get you in an apron and find someone for you to shadow.”

“Sounds good,” you try sounding cheery and excited, only for you to start worrying about whether or not you sound too eager.

“So, front of house is up first. You’ve already met Mary, our lovely hostess—“

Marry wiggles her fingers at you as a playful wave while she takes a phone call, “Yes, we do takeout!”

“You don’t need to worry about the host stand, but I’ll show you the book so you can get a feel for the sections and how we operate. We’ll only give you a small group of tables at first…”

You try to commit everything Nate says to memory, wanting to do well here. You really need this job. Rent isn’t cheap, especially without roommates. And you really don’t want a roommate. Plus this place pays their servers well, so you want to be good at it. You really really need to listen to Nate if you’re gonna be good at this.

But, jeez, Nate seems like he loves to talk. He’s going on and on and on and you’re fighting back a yawn when Mary swoops in like a hero, telling Nate she needs the book back to make a reservation.

“Sure, I think you’ve got the idea of it anyway, right?” Nate asks.

You blink, “Oh, yeah. Sure do!”

Shit, you think. You totally zoned out.

“Great, let me show you to the bar,” Nate says, already walking away.

Another reason why you really want to work here was for the ambiance. It’s a contemporary place with a grungy interior, all while remaining slightly upscale for restaurants in this area. Another upside was the live music. If you’re gonna be working, at least let it be somewhere nice with good music.

“Sirius! New server’s here,” Nate interrupts the bartender who’s in the process of mixing up a cocktail. You introduce yourself with a shy smile as you study him, trying to make a permanent link between his name and face in your mind.

Sirius the bartender—mischievous gray eyes and long black hair. He wears half of it tied up in the back of his head, surly to avoid having it fall in his face while he mixes drinks.

He puts the shaker down and rolls up the sleeves of his satin black dress shirt, “Hey there, doll, y’alright? Natey not being too boring for ya?”

“Alright, back to work, Sirius.” Nate says, sounding snappy.

You follow Nate to the back of the restaurant.

“This is the kitchen—“

“Who the fuck rang in scallops? We’ve been 86 scallops all fucking day.”

“Don’t look at me! Was probably James, the bloody dolt.”

“This seems like a bad time,” Nate spins on his heels and ushers you out of the kitchen quickly, “Whoever trains you will get you acclimated to the kitchen later. That’s Remus, just so you know, head chef.”

You nod, not having anything else to say as you begin to worry everyone won’t be as nice as Mary.

You want to take a moment to commit Remus’ name to memory like you had Sirius and Mary’s, but you only caught a glimpse of him. Still, you were sure you wouldn’t forget who the name belonged to now that you’ve had such a lovely first impression.

Next, Nate takes you down a hall, past the bathrooms, to show you his office and the staff area complete with a rickety table for breaks and some lockers. In the corner are two plastic bins with fading sharpie scrawled across the front of them: CLEAN and DIRTY. Nate reaches into the “clean” bin and picks out a slate gray apron.

He hands it to you, and you try to tie it the way the server in the kitchen had it. Nate starts leading you back out into the dining room as you continue to fiddle with the ties.

As you dart around the restaurant, the “fast-paced environment” detail from the job listing is really starting to materialize, and this was only the tour.

“Right, now where are my bloody servers.” Nate mutters under his breath, “Slacking off by the host stand, of course.”

There’s two servers at the host stand: a girl with red hair hanging in two braids on either side of her face and a tall boy with glasses. They’re huddled with Mary, looking like they’re sharing hot gossip.

You and Nate make it to the host stand at the same time as the other server from the kitchen.

“Hey, team!” Nate says, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Chef’s fuckin’ pissed at you,” she says to Glasses.

“What I do!?” He asks, whipping his body out of the huddle. Mary and the red-haired girl keep talking without him.

“Thinks you rang in some scallops,” she shrugs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

“Why would I do that? We’re 86.”

“Yeah, but I forgot,” she says nonchalantly, leaning her back against the host stand.

“And you let him think it was me!?”

“Oh yeah, obviously. Anyway, I should probably go tell my table they’re not getting their scallops.”

“Servers!” Nate interrupts loudly, finally making your four new coworkers quiet down. You feel all eyes suddenly train on you. You smile through the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach lurching.

“We have a new member joining our team today. Please give a warm welcome to Y/N.”

“Hi,” you flash a smile to the new faces in front of you.

“Welcome!” The red-haired girl returns a bright smile of her own, “I’m Lily, I love your earrings.”

“Marlene,” the blonde says plainly.

And finally—

“Hiya, Love. I’m James,” the one with glasses says coolly as he rests an elbow on the host stand. He exudes confidence, and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.

You try to study the three of them to commit names to faces.

Lily—fiery red hair, kind eyes, and a fair complexion with a sprinkling of freckles.

Marlene—you like the way her blonde hair is cut into a shag. She also kind of intimidates you, so you really want to remember her name.

James—glasses, tousled dark hair, very attractive. That last part probably wasn’t a necessary attribute to help you remember his name, but it was true. He has a tall, toned frame that would’ve made him seem intimidating if not for the way his eyes transformed into the physical embodiment of sunshine when he smiled. Were your hands getting sweaty?

“Alright, great. Introductions are done, now I need someone to be a trainer.” Nate claps his hands together, waiting for a volunteer.

“I have to go give a table bad news, so-”

Nate cuts Marlene off before she can hastily run away, “Wasn’t gonna ask you anyway.”

James is eyeing you, sizing you up it seems, when he pipes up, “I’ll do it.”

Marlene snorts. “Weren’t you saying an hour ago that Nate better not dump the-”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marls,” James says through clenched teeth, glaring sideways at her.

You felt like quitting on the spot, thinking that you were obviously a burden on these people. Being a burden to James, specifically, felt particularly embarrassing. It had your face heating up.

“Great! Thanks James,” Nate says, “Y/N, you’re in good hands. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. The rest of you, get back to work!”

With a reluctant groan from Marlene and a “nice to meet you” from Lily, the small crowd disperses. All except for you and James.

“I’m sorry you got saddled with training me.”

“Aw man, no! Marlene was just-” James cuts himself off with a sigh, “Fine, I didn’t think I’d want to train today. But I changed my mind, so don’t feel like you’re a burden or something, alright?”

James seems pretty genuine, so you digress. Not without a joke first, though.

“Just remember you asked for it later when you get tired of me.”

“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen,” James says, a certain playfulness dancing in his eyes.

As a new party walks into the restaurant, James leads you toward a nearby order station so that you’ll be out of the way.

“So, you’re gonna wanna forget everything Nate told you,” he says as you walk, “I’m gonna show you how we actually run this place.” He shoots a boyish smirk over his shoulder.

“That shouldn’t be very hard, I don’t think I was awake for any of it,” you admit with a chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m gonna like you!” James swings his body around when you reach the order station, “We love Nate slander here. Behind his back of course.”

“That’s worrisome,” you say, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the terminal. You end up just standing up straight, “He seemed kind of nice.”

“You ever work in a restaurant before?” James leans toward you, looking coy, and you do your best not to shrink away from him.

“Yeah, I was a hostess.”

“You ever been friends with any of your old managers?”

You think about it for a minute, “No.”

“Exactly,” James leans back and you feel your shoulders relax at once. “He’s alright, but he’s still the boss. Plus, it’s good for server morale to have a common enemy.”

James earns a laugh from you, and he smiles brightly as if it’s the biggest honor.

“So, when do you get off?”

“I’m closing, I think.”

“Nate has you closing on your first shift? Diiiiick move.”

“He asked first and I told him I could handle it.”

“He shouldn’t have asked.” James insists, then he waves it off as if deciding what’s done is done, “That’s alright, you’ll be able to stick with me. But in light of that, I’ll make today easy for you. You can watch while I take orders, and I’ll show you how I ring them all in here,” James pats the POS terminal, “And you can help me get bread and refills out to tables mostly. I won’t make you take orders today ‘coz it’s a bit rowdy in here, but maybe if we’re sat with an easy table we’ll see how you’re feeling.”

You nod along, not having anything to say, not that you had the chance. James is a fast talker and you’re beginning to notice how full of energy he is. It’s a tad amusing, and it’s beginning to show on your face.

“What?” James asks, eyes flicking down to your growing smile.

With a slight shake of your head, you say, “You a big coffee drinker?”

“Y’know, I get that a lot,” James reaches into the underside of the order station, and pulls out a canned beverage, “But I’m partial to these.”

Your face scrunches up as James takes a sip of what you like to call battery acid in a can.

James makes a big show of acting refreshed, emitting a long sigh when the can leaves his lips, “Not your cup of tea, I take it?” James raises an eyebrow.

“My cup of tea would be actual tea. Or coffee-“

“Coffee’s any better?”

“A million times, yes.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You can’t be serious.”

James’ eyes light up like you’ve just handed him a prize, “You’re right, that’s the bartender. ‘Ave you met him?”

It takes you a moment to register what he means, and then you’re rolling your eyes, “Oh, I’m gonna hear that joke a lot from you aren’t I?”

“You’re gonna hear that joke all day from everyone, Love, it’s a house favorite.”

As you’re about to quip back, Lily squeezes between you two to ring in some food.

“James, enough flirting. Some of your tables are starting to look pissed,” she says, tapping on the screen quickly to get the order in.

“I’m not flirting,” James protests, but the wink he shoots you begs to differ.

Lily takes a break from noting modifications for a sandwich order to look at you, “James is always flirting, you’ll learn to ignore him.”

James is looking at you over her shoulder, shaking his head and swirling his index finger by the side of hers, mouthing “she’s crazy.”

As Lily resumes removing tomatoes from the order, she catches James in the act and swats his hand away, “Seriously, James, they’re starting to flag me down because they haven’t seen you in ages.”

James clutches his hand close to his chest. His eyes flit between you and Lily, a mock-horrified look on his face that communicates “see, I told you she’s crazy!”

“Who?” he asks.

“Your tables, you dunce,” Lily hisses, but there are notes of humor in her voice.

James bares his teeth as grimaces and checks his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist, “Bollocks, look at the time. Come Y/N, I’ll show you how to turn an angry table into a happy one.”

You have to stifle a laugh as you follow James to his tables, mentally adding him to the list of reasons why you really want to work here.

[noirscript]

an offering of skin

Pairing/s: Yandere God x Reader Description: You are consumed by Azraël’s all-seeing gaze, his hands tracing your trembling skin as he claims not just your body but your very soul, leaving you powerless beneath his dark, relentless hunger. Warning/s: Yandere | Possessive God | Body Horror | Psychological Terror | Non-consensual Touch | Loss of Autonomy | Self-Harm | Explicit Content Note/s: Check out our discord server! Let's hangout, okay? Anyway, enjoy reading this! btw. no banner for now. I'm running out of pics for the banners T^T

Masterlist | Dark Roast | Sovereign's Reign Pre-Order | Commission | Tip Jar

You wake to silence—not the comforting stillness of sleep, but the wrong kind.

The kind that curls inside your chest like a cold, living thing, twisting and tightening with each breath. Your skin prickles with the sensation of eyes that don’t blink, gazing from places your mind can’t reach, watching every twitch, every pulse beneath the surface.

The room hasn’t changed. The same peeling paint flakes from the walls; the same crooked photographs stare down with lifeless eyes. Yet everything feels different—as if the air itself remembers what you cannot forget.

You don’t pray anymore. You stopped when faith slipped through your fingers like sand, but his voice, his name, clings to the edges of your mind like a whispered curse.

He is called Azraël, the god who sees all, the god who claims what is his with hands that never tire.

His gaze penetrates the veils of flesh and bone, looking past your skin to the trembling soul beneath. You feel his breath on your neck—a warmth that stings like fire and lingers like a lover’s touch. His voice, when it speaks, is not spoken aloud but carved into your thoughts with a cold precision that leaves no room for mercy.

“You belong,” he says, and the words seep into your bones, sinking deeper than any blade.

Your fingers tremble as they undo the buttons of your shirt, the fabric slipping from your skin like a surrender. His hands—immense, impossibly gentle—press down, tracing the delicate curves of your collarbone, sliding lower to the hollow at the base of your throat. The touch is electric, a shiver that twists inside you like a secret too dangerous to whisper.

His fingers brush your ribs, ghosting over the raw, tender flesh where your skin peeled away days ago in some unconscious offering. You want to pull away, to scream, but his grip tightens, firm but maddeningly soft, and you are lost in the weight of his presence.

“I see everything,” Azraël breathes into your mind, his voice a velvet thunder that vibrates through every nerve ending. “The fear you hide, the shame you bury, the desire you choke down like poison. I am your witness. Your judge. Your god.”

His thumb strokes the jagged edge where your skin was torn away, the wetness of fresh blood glistening beneath his touch. You gasp at the sensation—not pain, but a delicious ache that curls tight around your spine, sparking a hunger that has nothing to do with flesh.

His lips press against your shoulder, teeth grazing softly, almost teasing, before trailing downward in a slow, scorching path that sets your nerves ablaze.

You shiver under his caress, torn between terror and a twisted longing you cannot name. “This offering is beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with something possessive, dark. “Your flesh is a gift, and I will wear it like a crown.”

He presses closer, the heat of his body a furnace beneath your skin, and you feel the world narrow to the cadence of his breath and the thunderous beating of your heart.

You try to speak, but words catch in your throat. His hands roam with a devotion that is both worship and ownership, tracing the contours of your body with reverence and hunger intertwined.

Your skin quivers where his fingers linger, every nerve ending ablaze, every thought consumed by the knowledge that he sees all—your secrets, your sins, your deepest, most desperate cravings.

There is no escape, no sanctuary.

His eyes are everywhere, in every shadow, behind every blink. You are a canvas stripped bare beneath the god’s relentless gaze, an offering of skin laid bare for the taking.

“You asked me to see you,” Azraël’s voice hums, dark and intoxicating as honey laced with venom. “You begged for my attention, for my touch. You have opened yourself, and now I will possess you.”

His hand slides lower, curling possessively around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until your breath mingles, your bodies pressing together in a communion that is at once sacred and profane.

You feel the heat of his mouth against your neck, the sharp brush of teeth as he marks you—not with pain, but with a promise that you are his, irrevocably, eternally.

The room spins, the boundaries of flesh and spirit blurring until you cannot tell where you end and he begins. You want to resist, to tear yourself free, but every attempt feels like swimming against a tide that is both crushing and tender.

His power seeps into your bones, a slow-burning fire that consumes and sanctifies. “You will wear my skin as I wear yours,” he whispers, voice low and commanding. “This offering binds us. You are mine.”

You shudder, lost in the exquisite torment of his touch, the overwhelming knowledge that to deny him is to invite oblivion.

He is the god of all seeing, all knowing—your sins laid bare, your desires exposed, your soul stripped down to its barest truth. There is no mercy in his gaze, only the relentless pull of ownership and the endless hunger for more.

As he slides his hands beneath your skin—feeling the warmth, the trembling beneath—his lips trace patterns of fire across your chest.

You feel his hunger not just in his touch but in the way the air thickens around you, the way the shadows lean in closer, as if eager to witness the offering you give willingly yet fearfully.

His breath is a promise and a threat, a dark benediction that sets your senses aflame and your heart pounding like a war drum.

“I am the beginning and the end,” Azraël murmurs, voice deep and endless as the void. “I am the shadow beneath your skin, the whisper behind your eyes, the fire that will never cease. You cannot hide from me, for I am everywhere.”

His hands press harder, possessive, devouring, and you are drowning in the weight of him—his power, his hunger, his unyielding claim.

You don’t want to surrender, but you do.

You offer yourself—the trembling skin, the fragile heart, the desperate soul—to the god who sees all and wants everything. You are his offering, his creation, his possession. And in that terrifying devotion, you find a dark, twisted salvation.

He is Azraël, the god who claims all, who demands skin and soul and worship in equal measure. And you are forever his.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya @yandereaficionado @pinksaiyans @ivantillenthusiast @missybabes

[left-side-up]

Jupiter

Smallishbeans hit the ground too hard.

When Joel opens his eyes, he's in a desert.

That's strange. For one, the Wild Life server doesn't have a desert. Even if it did, Joel wouldn't be around to see it, seeing as he's dead now.

The sun beams down on the sand. Joel squints. It's unbearably bright here.

The desert looks like it used to be a war zone. Cacti and lava surround its borders, making an impenetrable wall, and in the middle of everything is a series of deep craters.

There's not another soul in sight.

Joel begins walking.

Something about this place seems sad. Familiar, almost. The answer is on the tip of his tongue, but he just can't seem to grasp it. He knows this place.

An image of Gem flashes in his head. She would've liked to build here, he thinks. She'd know how to turn the barren wasteland into something cute and livable. He wishes she'd had more time. A space to build freely without fear of being backstabbed or blown up.

There's something you're forgetting.

"Who was that?"

Joel whips around, searching for the source of the voice. There's still no one here. The sun beams down on the sand.

"Show yourself! I just won a death game, I'll have you know!"

I know.

In the blinding light of the desert, the waves of heat start to reassemble a person.

"Who are you?"

The figure is short, but it's hard to make out any other features. Joel reaches for a sword, but his hand comes back empty.

The mirage raises a hand and gestures for Joel to come closer. Then it starts walking away. Under any other circumstances, Joel wouldn't be dumb enough to follow. But Lizzie and Gem are gone, and Joel is pretty sure he's dead, and there's nothing left to lose now. So he follows.

As they walk, the mirage becomes clearer and clearer. It begins with a more solid outline. Then sandy blond hair. Then a red sweater, and fabric draped over it, large enough to defend from the desert sun. Then feathers, red and blue and yellow.

I killed you, Joel thinks. And then- No. You're not the Grian I killed.

A mountain comes into view. There are structures on top, and stairs leading up to them- evidence of life.

Or not.

The house is just as destroyed as the rest of the desert. All that remains of the front porch is a flowerpot, cracked and lain on its side, dirt and dead lilacs pouring out of it.

The mirage of Grian is now clearer than ever. Joel can see the scars on his hands and the poppy in his hair as he guides him towards their final destination.

A grave. And a ring of cacti. And blood, splattered all around the tiny arena. The mirage kneels in the red sand, resting his hands in his lap.

Sit with me, he beckons, and Joel complies.

It's silent for a moment. Just Joel, the mirage of Grian, and the grave before them. Then-

Can we still be friends?

Joel startles at Scar's voice. He looks around, but there is no Scar, mirage or otherwise.

YOU TRAITOR!

Long live the science bros!

Put your shirt back on!

I am going to murder them.

Grian and Scar's voices echo through the war torn desert, a series of memories Joel has no part in. Some sad, some happy, some bleak or forlorn. Beside him, the mirage holds his head high. Grian has always been a prideful being. Even when he's sad. Even when he's in pain.

...How does he know that?

You may slay me and take the enchanter.

I can't do that.

I think that, no matter what, we can call this a double victory.

Scar, fight back!

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry, Scar.

Grian fell from a high place.

The mirage is crying.

Joel thinks he can piece together what happened here.

"Grian, is this... was this a life game?"

Do you really want to know?

"Yes."

Grian wipes his tears, then holds out his hands to Joel.

I'm sorry in advance.

"For what?"

The mirage doesn't respond.

Joel sighs and takes Grian's hands.

Next >>

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

VOODOO KISSES (I miss you)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem! Summary: It's been a month since you graduated and you haven't seen Eddie since, you thought he must have left, until you bump into Wayne, and he tells you otherwise Warnings: a few swears but nothing i don't think?

sorry for the late update, i had bad writers block and had absolutely no idea where this series was going, figured it out hehe, thank you for your patience.

hope you like it!

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Series Masterlist

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A job was a nice way to start your life, free from school, you could save money to find somewhere to live on your own, maybe get out of this shitty town.

Just like Eddie did, gone to find success and be a big rockstar, you figured it wouldn't be long until you heard his name on the radio as you drove to the diner.

You often thought about him, nothing much, just what he was doing during that time or if he was thinking about you too.

If he was having fun, you hope he was, it would make you feel less guilty for pushing him away.

He'd be having more fun wherever he is than he'd ever have with you.

But you just wondered sometimes, if he was serious about you, if he really wanted you to be his girl.

Sometimes you wish you didn't send him away, you curse yourself for always speaking before you think, it was a disease, you swore, but you always say it's your gut speaking for you, your heart talking.

Thats why you always back yourself up, if you hadn't had so much pride, you would have apologised, told him the five words he wanted to hear you say.

You'd say 'I want you to stay'

But alas, you'd cut your own tongue off so you couldn't if it didn't hurt so bad.

Maybe you'd meet him somewhere if you save enough to leave, you'd go to LA just to find him and apologise, maybe kiss him if he managed to still be single.

Which is why you go to your minimum wage job with a smile, your apron tight around your waist as you enter through the back, greeting Larry, the chef.

It wasn't so bad, you probably got more tips than you actually got paid, thanks to the middle-aged creepy men who liked to stare at your tits through the thin pastel yellow button up.

And not to forget the nice old lady who comes in every Wednesday and tips you a 40 every time, she was sweet. But you'd probably cry if she mentioned her grandson your age one more time.

It was a kind gesture, really, trying to set you up, but you just weren't interested.

You don't know when you would be, maybe never.

But ever since Eddie walked away from you, you realised you shouldn't have denied it for so long.

You liked him, a lot.

But it's too late. The damage was done.

You put the kettle on and went to the front, swapping shifts with your co-worker as they leave saying a quick hello-goodbye as you cleaned up a few tables.

It was right after the lunch rush, so it was pretty dead.

You loved when it was like this, you'd sit at the counter, or lean over the pass and talk to Larry, he was a grumpy guy, but he always had a sweet spot for the servers, a sweet man overall, but God help you if he's angry.

You've never seen it, but you'd heard the stories from your co-workers from before you were hired, and you prayed it would never happen to you.

You served a few customers before you saw a familiar face that made you gape in surprise.

He sat down at the stool by your left, not opting for a booth as he looked up at the menu above your head.

You gave him a few minutes before grabbing your paper and pencil, awkwardly making your way over to him as he looked down at the newspaper, glasses low on his nose as he read.

You put your customer service voice on, not knowing if he'd even remember you.

"afternoon, sir, how may I help you?" You asked sweetly, watching as he looked up, a frown on his face as he pinpoints where he knows you from

He thought for a second before putting his search on a pause to order "just a coffee and cheeseburger- no pickles, thank you"

You smile and ring in the cheeseburger as you get the coffee pot and a mug.

He watched you as you poured the coffee, looking at the name tag before letting out a noise of acknowledgment "you're Ed's friend, aren't ya'?"

It was your turn to frown now

"I'm sorry?" You apologised for your composure that made the man feel as though he said something wrong

"Eddie's friend? You came over for his birthday, no?"

You nodded slowly, but your questions were then answered with his next response

"Why haven't I seen you in a while? I told him I'd leave you kids alone, kissing ain't that bad.."

You felt your cheeks go hot as you remembered the scene. How could you ever forget that night? You'd never get rid of the regret that followed it every time you thought about it. You should have told him you liked him too.. maybe then this conversation with his uncle wouldn't be so awkward.

"Oh, right..um.." you started, sighing deeply as you tried to come up with a reason that wouldn't make you sound like a total and utter bitch.

You found no such excuse.

"You should come over for dinner" the man nodded his head, already confirming the dates in his mind.

You shook yours, taking the coffee pot back to its spot as he racked his brain.

He should be free on Wednesday, wait no, Bill had him cover his shift, no Wednesday

"You want to have dinner with just me?" You questioned, a hand placed on your hip as you leaned your hip on the counter, an eyebrow raised as you wondered why on earth Uncle Wayne would want to have dinner with you.

He was a kind man, rough around the edges, but not one-on-one dinner type of guy

He tilted his head, him now being the confused one

"I ain't saying it's just us, neither of us want that, trust'me" He spoke heavily, but which a light chuckle, taking the coffee mug into his hands and taking a sip.

It wasn't that hot, cooled down from sitting there for a while, but he seemed satisfied, or just didn't want to point out the fact it was probably the worst cup of coffee he's ever had.

But if it was- he was good at not showing it.

But that was besides the point.

His words stuck with you.

"Oh...is Eddie back?" You asked.

He didn't get time to respond before the food bell rang, to which you turned around and grabbed the plate.

It wasn't the worst looking burger, but Wayne didn't have much to compare it to.

You placed the plate right in front of him as he moved the newspaper out of the way

"Did he have fun? any record deals yet?" you wondered out loud

You didn't mean to pry; it wasn't your business. What Eddie did with his life didn't have anything to do with you anymore, and best believe it was your fault for that.

You couldn't help it, you just needed to know what he was up to.

But it was strange to only be gone a month. Maybe he didn't enjoy it like you thought he would.

"Unless he went somewhere I don't know, then, no"

You leaned against the counter again, fully facing the man as he took a bite of his burger.

You concluded that He was joking, he must have been, because how could he not know about his nephews' dreams of being a Rockstar?

You only knew Eddie for a short few months and knew about it, so how could the man that basically raised him not know about it?

He was joking

But you were still left confused

"So, isn't he in LA?" you asked, giving him a knowing look he definitely didn't pick up on as he looked up at you

"Who told you that?" Wayne scoffed, sipping his coffee shortly before bringing it down again, a slight look of amusement on his face

No one had told you that, mostly because you haven't seen anyone since you graduated last month.

It was just what you assumed.

"He's still here?"

"doesn't want to leave" he said like it was the most causal thing in the world, like he had no clue about Eddie's rants about wanting to get the fuck out of there.

But why on earth would he change his mind about that?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie didn't have much to do now that he didn't have to go to school.

For a while he would just stay in the trailer, sulking, missing you for whatever reason until he wasn't upset anymore, this was all you, you pushed him away.

No, he wasn't upset.

He wasn't even mad.

He had no feelings towards it. he was indifferent.

Which is probably the worst out of all the things he could be.

Because one, Eddie was very expressive, he always had feelings or opinions on every matter, but with you, it was like he purposely locked you away in his head, now you were out of sight, out of mind.

Well, not entirely the latter part of that saying, he still thought about you sometimes, there were just no feelings behind the thoughts, he would just picture your pretty smile and that would be it.

He was lost inside his room.

Lost inside his head

He closed his eyes and fled, the image of him being a Rockstar slowly fading away with every day he spends in Hawkins, He knows he should get out.

What would the rants about leaving be for if he continued to stay? he had to make a point.

But every time he imagined himself on stage, His mind couldn't help but torture him with the sight of you with him.

It just wasn't fair.

You had to have done voodoo shit on him.

and that shit is something not even Eddie messes with, he's terrified of voodoo, but you've done it. He knows you have.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If you had known Eddie was still in Hawkins, you wouldn't have spent so long wishing you had given him a kiss goodbye, made him promise to come back.

You wish you would have known earlier, maybe it would have made it easier to apologise.

Because now time has passed and everything has set in, probably unable to be fixed.

He wouldn't accept your apology now.

But he might have if you said sorry a month ago.

Better yet, you could have just not said what you did.

But this was good news. He was still here.

And for whatever reason he was still here gave you hope.

You missed him, how could you not? he accepted you when no one else did.

Which is maybe why you decided to go to the record store, just to reminisce in the music that might bring you closer to him.

You knew you couldn't see him, it was like an unspoken rule, but nobody ever said you weren't allowed to think about him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Wayne still never got the hint that you two weren't friends anymore, which is evident to not only you, but now to Eddie as Wayne comes into the trailer only two days after your encounter with a smile that silently said 'I like to meddle with things'

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I saw your friend the other day" He spoke, putting him bag down by the door, because for some reason, the honeycombs his nephew was eating reminded him of the diner.

"Which one?" Eddie said with his mouth full of the cereal

Wayne tried thinking, he really did, but he shrugged "dunno, the girl"

Eddie paused his chewing for a moment to swallow, looking at his uncle like he had something up his ass

He had forgotten to tell Wayne about your broken friendship. maybe out of embarrassment when having to admit he liked you, and you well, Eddie still isn't sure what you felt towards him.

Every time Eddie thought he had you figured out, you did something to throw him completely off track until all he knew is that you were using him to get by in the last few months of school.

He was the only person to take you under his wing because for one, he felt guilty, and two, well...

You were just really pretty

But all you wanted was to have 'friends' for the last part of your school life.

He gets it, he's fine with being the pawn in that game, it's not like he's never been used before, he can handle it, doesn't mean he has to paint you in a bad light, no.

He just chooses not to think about it, it was better like that.

So now, life had sprung him into telling the truth

"We aren't friends, Wayne" the boy started, awkwardly scratching his hand, already feeling uncomfortable with his conversation

"Oh no, of course you ain't. I never thought for a second friends kiss each other like I caught you two doin'" Wayne raised an eyebrow, moving past his nephew to the fridge, grabbing a bear before heading to the couch.

Eddie was mortified, blushing furiously "No, Wayne, as in I haven't seen her since graduation"

Now it was Wayne's turn to look at him strangely.

"Now why the 'ell is that?"

Eddie shrugged "just...didn't stay in touch"

Wayne wasn't an idiot, he knew when to stop asking questions. which he reluctantly did, but not without a last comment

"Well, this is awkward' I invited her to dinner" the old man sighed as he opened the beer, flicking on the television as he put his feet up on the old coffee table as the younger Munson's almost chocked on cereal, his eyes popping out of his head

"You did what!?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The record store was quiet, but it usually was on a Wednesday afternoon. It was actually quiet most of the time, which was nice.

You didn't have to squeeze past anyone to get to the shelf you wanted, and only a few people stared at you when you made your way towards the metal section, the dust still prominent in the sign.

But unlike any other time, you imagined it or waited until everyone was gone, you just didn't care.

If it meant you'd get to be in any way, shape or form closer to Eddie, you'd do it.

You didn't exactly know what you were looking for,

Probably anything he's ever mentioned- if you could even remember

nothing else had worked out for you, you've tried many things just to get a feel of him in any way you can, but nothing can capture the sting of the guilt you feel for letting him 'leave'

The fair might not have been a wise decision when you look at you now, but you don't regret it, it was probably the best decision you ever made in high school, all you could ever think about from that day is the slight moment where his eyes lit up every time he looked at you, you saw it now. How he felt.

You flicked through the CDs and tapes, searching for something that catches your eye.

They didn't have much, not a wide variety like any pop or country genre

looking through all of them, you focused on names first, Motörhead, Judas Priest, Black sabbath, Metallica, Iron maiden, Wasp, and Dio.

You'd heard or Metallica and Wasp, remembering the music he played for you, Wild child playing as he drove you to his graduating party at the trailer.

And you remember Dio, that beautiful image of him at the fair wearing that Dio shirt with ripped sleeves imprinted in your mind.

So, it was safe to say that Wasp and Dio were the way to go.

The options were limited, only two different albums, one with a picture of a man struggling in water with a somewhat demon behind him, and the other one a faded orange so worn out you could barely see the same demon and figures in the foreground on the cover.

You went with the first one, deciding you liked the cover better than the other one and them immediately finding the one album that you could never get off your mind ever since you saw it for the first time all those months ago.

The album that basically started it all. The fantasies, the fascinating, the wonders.

The scary man on the cover stared at you, almost mockingly as you slowly picked it up. But you smiled, the last command, you were sure you were going to love it, if he did, you would most likely find the courage to as well.

You compared the two CD's in your hand and nodded, feeling happy in yourself as you walked up to the counter.

You still felt the stares at the back of your head as you waited for the worker to acknowledge you, but you didn't mind, what's a few more people to settle you as a freak?

You cleared your throat, and the worker looked up from the magazine he was reading, looking at the discs you've placed on the counter before raising an eyebrow as he examined you

"These aren't really meant to be bought... nobody buys them" he said dully, sitting up in his chair

"Then you should probably take them off of the shelves" you smiled brightly "how much do I owe you?"

He rang you in and deadpanned "16.47"

You paid happily and thanked him, feeling oddly proud of yourself as you backed up, turning around when you bumped into a hard chest, making them groan deeply, your CD's dropping just as you backed up.

You gaped as he bent down, picking them up for you as you stared at him, him pausing him movements halfway up as he looked at the music you bought.

You weren't ready, you weren't ready at all to see that soft face that was now frowning as he looked up before straightening his composure.

A slight flare to his nose and his eyes dropped more than they usually would. He definitely wasn't ready to see you either, you presumed

There was a slight glare to his eyes as you held out the CDs to you.

"Thank you..." you muttered as you took them, hating the way you couldn't look at him.

All your pride and confidence completely washed away by his stare

After a month of thinking he was gone, as soon as you find out he isn't, you see him? what bullshit was that?

It was silence before he spoke up quietly "I take it I rubbed off on you, huh?"

You could barely hear him with how quiet he was, making you finally look at him in the eye

You only nodded

He nodded slowly, and you noticed his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he stepped away, brushing past you, deciding that was it

And it was. You agreed as you walked out of the store, you mind telling you to go back and finally apologise.

But you couldn't go back in there.

So, you stood outside

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie didn't want to see you. Well, actually, that's not the truth.

He was fine with not seeing you.

But now that he has, it's hit a spot he didn't want to be touched again, you just had to look so good and be buying metal tapes? what was up with that?

He mentally cursed himself for talking, for even helping you pick them up, he shouldn't have even left the trailer today, but he just had to get away from the awkward conversation with Wayne.

Also, what were the fucking chances he sees you for the first time in a month right after talking about you.

That was the voodoo shit he was talking about, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the thought of your magic.

He wasn't there for a while; he looked for a few moments before deciding enough was enough, you probably cursed the store, he needed to get out before it seeped through his veins.

But in all seriousness, seeing you ruined his mood, it wasn't you fault for bumping into you, he'll give you that, you didn't want to see him as much as he was fine with not seeing you, but now he's going to spiral back into thinking about you for ages and he'd rather get away from that right now.

What he didn't expect was to be bombarded at his van with you standing there, your foot tapping on the concrete

He stood a few feet away and stayed there

'ok...what's up with that?' he asked himself before slowly making his way over

"Hi" you spoke hushly

"Hi" he parroted

You took a short breath as you looked down "I thought you were in LA.."

"I bet that's where you want me too, huh?" he spat

He didn't mean to, but then again, some part of him needed to get that out

You tried to talk but nothing came out so, you settled for scratching your arm nervously

"I saw Wayne the other day" you mentioned, not sure why you felt the need to even say that, especially with the way Eddie responded

"Oh yeah, I heard" he nodded "I wouldn't take him up on that offer for dinner if I were you"

You chuckled dryly.

Eddie would go right about now, drive off and leave you with that, but seen as thought your blocking the driver's side door, he's a bit stuck

And unlike any other jerk, he would rather almost anything than put his hands on you.

Not because he would be grossed out, but because he doesn't want to hurt you, not that he probably could with just a light shove.

His tone let you know he wasn't ready to talk to you as he spat out every word

"I know you're mad-" you started before he shook his head

"'m not mad, nothing to be mad about, but you know what? I was just on my way to pack to head off, got a great record deal I gotta show up to, it's so far away you'll probably never see you again" He deadpanned, his tone nothing but sarcasm

"Ok..." you nodded, understanding his want for you gone

"Should have left ages ago, actually, just like you told me to, should have fucked right of-"

"So why didn't you?" you asked.

It was just a simple question, so why did it anger him so much?

"pardon?" he blinked, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed deeply

"Why didn't you leave?" you asked again

Eddie went silent, he wasn't ready to answer that question, because there was no answer.

He doesn't have one yet.

He doesn't know why he's still here, in Hawkins, In the trailer, In front of you and not in a recording studio.

He just never left.

He's not sure why.

It was your voodoo shit, you're making him stay, he concluded once again, that was the answer.

Realising he didn't have an answer, you opted for another comment, just wanting it out there.

You wanted him to know.

He had to know.

You didn't expect him to say it back, but you had to admit it.

"I missed you"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

sorry for the late update 😬

Taglist:

@exploding-bonbon @xlostitx   @pupwrites   @carolineesnell  @foreveranexpatsposts  @itsmadamehydra   @thedoubleexposurephotography  @g3n3zshack   @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable  @emxxblog   @nubedeoctubreval  @bimboshaggy  @sheneedsrocknroll92   @callmytherapistplease-blog  @ifeelbadbutimhot  @littlemissholy   @sammybrrr  @alastorssimp  @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e @hazydespair @eddiesguitarskills

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[exhaustedpirate]

there's a look that you give me

title from "go down on you" by the memories and it very much started as crack brainstorming on the tevan server and it turned into baby's first gay smut (be kind pls)! set during the hookup scene, ofc so blowjob with feelings!

rated E | 1011 words also on AO3

He missed this.

He missed the taste of Tommy’s lips, the feel of his body under his, the sound of his sighs, of his harsh breaths, of his moans, of his groans. There was something to be said about memory.

Buck thought he had kept it all safe in his head, all of it safe from the curse of time for a rainy day when the longing got too hard. And it had poured in the past four months.

But memory had nothing on rewatching your favourite movie after a few years, on listening to playlists you made during highschool, on fitting an harness for one more rescue. On hearing the sounds your ex-boyfriend makes when you’re grinding on his naked body with your lips on his.

Yeah, real life was so much better.

“E-Evan…”

God, a million times better.

Buck kisses his chest again, his tongue licking into Tommy’s pert nipple again, and he feels that shiver running down his spine when Tommy’s sigh of his name gets cut halfway with a moan. 

Fuck. 

Tommy’s hand takes the back of his head, fingers digging into his curls, not pushing, not pulling, just holding him there and Buck is more than happy to stay. Buck’s hand works his other nipple, not wanting to leave it neglected. Tommy’s free hand takes Buck’s other hand, their fingers interlocking with each other and Buck forgets to breathe. 

Buck nibbles on the meat of his pec, his hand travelling down Tommy’s chest until it wraps around his hip. Tommy arches his back towards the touch, their cocks grinding together more forcefully and Buck presses his forehead against Tommy’s chest with a drawn out moan.

“Tommy,” Buck sighs and the hands holding him squeeze for only a breath. “Let me-” He gets interrupted by a particularly good upwards thrust from Tommy. His hand tightens around his hip. “Please?”

Tommy nods and Buck is half sure he has no idea what he is agreeing with or maybe he does. He knows Buck. He knows him better than anyone really, this isn’t their first night together, not their second or third, Tommy knows him.

Buck trails his lips around his nipple once more, licking, nibbling for a minute more just to hear that moan from Tommy again, to feel the way his thigh rubs against Buck’s hip, the way he presses his head almost imperceptibly on the pillow. He creates a trail of kisses from the middle of Tommy’s pecks to his soft stomach, down to his meaty belly. His tongue finds the tip of Tommy’s cock and that first taste of precum and skin and Tommy.

“Fuck…” They groan at the same time and Buck’s lips curve at the breathless chuckle from Tommy.

He keeps their fingers interlocked as he runs his free hand lightly along the length of Tommy’s cock, his eyes on the other man’s face. He sees in real time the way Tommy’s lashes flutter shut, the way his lips part and a relieved sigh leaves his mouth. 

He missed this.

“God, I missed this…” Tommy whispers and Buck squeezes their locked hands.

Before he can think too much on this, before he can wonder if they’ll regret it in the morning - no matter how good, how right it all feels -, Buck runs his tongue down the underside of Tommy’s shaft, mapping the well-known trail of his cock. Tommy’s fingers dig more firmly into his hair.

Wrapping his hand around the base of the older man’s cock, Buck gets reacquainted with the weight of it on his tongue, to the way it fills his mouth perfectly, the way it slots into the back of his throat. He’d gotten good at sucking dick - Tommy’s dick - in the 6 months they were together and, well, it’s like riding a bike.

“Evan,” Tommy sighs, his knees bracketing Buck’s sides, feet firmly on the mattress. “You feel so good, baby,” The praise lights up all those forgotten synapses in his brain and he swallows around it. “God.” 

Buck’s hand presses firmly on Tommy’s hip, head bobbing up and down with renewed vigor, wanting, needing, to get more of those sounds from the other man. Needs those sounds engraved in his brain. Needs to be able to remember the slight hitch of his breath when Buck runs the tip of his tongue over his slit. Needs to remember the sharp moan when Buck tongues at his balls. Needs to remember the dark shade of his eyes when Buck sucks a mark into his groin. Needs to remember that look every time he closes his eyes.

“Fuck, Evan,” His voice is strangled, hoarse, his fingers tightening on Buck’s hair, a warning, a plea. Buck knows this sound, knows Tommy. He knows him better than anyone really, this isn’t their first night together, not their second or third, Buck knows him. “I-I’m gonna-”

Buck’s nose hits the base of Tommy’s groin and he feels the effort it takes on Tommy to not thrust up into Buck’s mouth, hears the absolute pleasure in Tommy’s moans, the grip on Buck’s hand. 

Fuck, he missed this.

All it takes is the way his teeth very lightly run along the underside of Tommy’s cock for the older man to let out a loud moan of his name, fingers tightening almost painfully on his hair, on his hand, the taste of him in his tongue after so long without almost too much. Not enough.

Buck tries to stave off his own desire, his own crazed need for Tommy, to memorise the sounds he makes, the taste of him, the look he gives him, the masterpiece that is Tommy orgasming at Buck’s ministrations. He never wants to forget this, if tonight is all they have.

Their hands never untangle and he would give anything to never let go. 

Tommy pulls him up by the hair for a breath-stealing kiss, moans swallowed by lips at the taste in Buck’s mouth, his hand now travelling down his back to grab at his ass.

He had missed this.

So much.

[toruskiii]

Love Delivery!

Synopsis: Balancing part-time food delivery with a busy school schedule is no easy task. One day, while on a delivery, you find yourself awkwardly waiting at the door of a luxurious apartment. Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing a handsome, albeit annoyingly rich, man. Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn?? (modern au!) Character: Aventurine x fem!reader Warnings: Hot sassy men apocalypse, maybe this will have a part 2 or smth idk

[masterlist] [about me]

Ding!

Someone has placed an order near your set area.

You glance at the notification on your screen, just as you’re snapping a picture of the food you’ve delivered to the nice granny’s house. The elderly lady smiles politely, waiting patiently as you finish taking the photo.

“Ah, another order, young lady?” she croaks out, offering a small, grateful bow when you hand her the plastic bag of food. “Thank you so much, hoho. I’m sorry to trouble you young folks, but it’s hard for my old bones to get around, you know?” She chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

You smile at her and shake your head, waving off her concern. "It's no problem, granny. It's my job, after all." After bidding farewell to the old lady, you put on your helmet, hop back on your bike, and accept the new order request.

Penacony's Clock Diner? Wait-

You quickly check the location set for your food delivery, confused by the address. You're all the way in Aurem Alley, and the customer wants food from Penacony? Ridiculous.

Location Set: Xianzhou Luofu.

How is this guy even able to send his request to you?

You double-check the address, noticing the system listing it as Fyxestroll Garden. What the hell? There aren’t any apartment complexes at Fyxestroll Garden!

Puzzled, you pull over to the side of the road and open the map on your phone, trying to make sense of it. Fyxestroll Garden is a well-known public park, famous for its serene walking paths and meticulously kept gardens. You can’t recall any buildings, let alone residential ones, in the area. You tap on the address again, hoping it’s a mistake or a glitch, but the coordinates remain unchanged.

Maybe it’s a new complex that just opened? you wonder. Or could it be some sort of exclusive residence hidden within the park?

Not long after, another text message pops up on your screen, and it's from the guy.

Frustration boils within you as you read the message, your temper nearing its breaking point. The blazing sun beats down mercilessly, intensifying your irritation as you stand near the dock, contemplating a plunge into the cooling waters below. How could this customer be so careless as to mess up their address, leaving you to contend with this sweltering heat and an hour-long detour?

And curse this app for its lack of a proper cancellation feature!

With a frustrated groan, you glance at the text, feeling the resistance of your bike's wheels grow heavier as you open the GPS. You're tempted to unleash a torrent of curses at the customer for exploiting some loophole in the app, forcing you to exert yourself just to deliver his order. He better be prepared to tip generously for this inconvenience.

To reach Penacony, your best bet is to take the Astral Express train— a mode of transportation you've used before but disliked immensely. The erratic jumps and occasional turbulence make for a nerve-wracking journey. And that conductor… Was it just fatigue playing tricks on your mind, or did they really have bunny ears…?

You sigh heavily as you enter the station, swiping your pass before parking your bike and leaning against it. Your gaze drifts to the TV hanging on the wall, checking the schedule to see when the train will arrive. Fifteen minutes? Well, there's no escaping it now…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

You feel like hurling yourself into outer space.

Not only did the restaurant forget to prepare the order, but you're also stuck in a conversation with one of the servers who insists on cracking the most cringeworthy jokes.

"There's no such thing as a bad joke, only lousy comedians who can't deliver them!" the server— Jay, apparently. boasts. Doesn't this guy have other customers to attend to? Good grief. You're tempted to point out that he's no better than those lousy comedians, but you're not that mean— and you definitely don't want to risk losing your job.

"Order number 38! One sarmale and one classic soulglad!" a worker calls out, providing a convenient distraction as you hastily grabbed the food and rush over to your bike— just in time for your phone to start chiming with multiple notifications.

Fuming with frustration, you run a hand through your hair, pedaling away as fast as your legs can carry you to the designated location. One hand grips the handlebars tightly while the other clutches your phone, fingers jabbing at the screen as you send panicked voicemails to the careless customer.

"I'm on my way! I'll be there soon!" you breathe out, your voice strained with urgency, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon. You're so preoccupied that you didn't even bother with your helmet, leaving it hanging on the basket of your bike as you speed along. The wind rushes past you, whipping your hair back as you scream into your phone.

"I'm practically flying to your place. Just hold on!" you seethe, narrowly avoiding collisions with other vehicles. You swear you catch a glimpse of a pair of blue-haired siblings shooting you a skeptical glance as you whiz by. No one's going to meet their demise on my watch.

(Maybe a few might with the way you're on the verge of causing car crashes.)

With determination fueling every pedal, you push yourself to the limit, determined to reach the customer's location before they decide to relocate to another universe altogether.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Upon stepping into the lounge of the apartment complex, you stand there, utterly flabbergasted.

The sight before you is nothing short of opulent. Everyone here is dressed to the nines in fancy attire, oozing sophistication and wealth. I mean, what did you expect? That the guy who ordered the food would settle for anything less than extravagance? 1800 credits for a soda?

But even knowing that, you weren't prepared for the sheer luxury of it all. Marble floors greet you the moment you enter, with plush velvet red sofas arranged in elegant clusters at every corner. The vases of plants adorning the marble countertops probably cost more than your entire monthly rent.

The sprawling expanse of rooms lining the halls seems to stretch on endlessly, giving you the impression that you've stumbled into a palace rather than an apartment complex. You can't help but feel like a humble peasant as you approach the lobby manager, your attire— a mishmash of sweaty clothes and a random jacket—paling in comparison to the impeccably tailored suits of the residents. Are you checking into an apartment or a castle?

What catches you off guard is the realization that most of the people milling about in this opulent setting are students. Students! You recognize familiar faces in the crowd— classmates from the same campus you attend.

"Hello, I'm here to deliver an order for room number ███," you murmur to the manager, noting the slight stress in her demeanor as she punches in the room number to confirm the request. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she directs you to the Platinum room.

The Platinum room? Your mind races with questions as you make your way through the halls, the extravagant surroundings only adding to your bewilderment. What kind of student lives in the Platinum room of an apartment complex like this?

Here you stand, face to face with the imposing wooden door adorned with intricate golden trimmings, feeling as though your bank account is slowly draining with each passing moment. You raise a hand to knock, furrowing your brows in confusion when there's no immediate answer.

"Hey, it's me. I'm here to deliver your food," you call out, giving the door another firm knock. Still, there's no response. Seriously?

Technically, you could just leave the food at his door and be done with it. But something about the luxuriousness of this apartment complex makes you hesitate. It wouldn't reflect well on you to simply abandon the delivery outside, especially in such an upscale setting. (You internally roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all.)

As the door finally creaks open, you're poised to unleash the most scathing side-eye you can muster— ready to give this guy a piece of your mind for keeping you waiting (and running). But as your gaze meets his, you freeze.

You'd seen his profile picture on the app before, but you'd doubted that a man so devastatingly handsome could possibly exist in real life. You'd convinced yourself that it was probably some sort of prank or scam, someone using a fake photo to lure in unsuspecting victims.

But now, standing before you, is a man who defies all logic. His golden, tousled locks frame a face so strikingly beautiful it steals your breath away. His eyes— oh, those eyes— they're like pools of sapphire surrounded by a halo of lavender. You feel your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you struggle to find your voice, your words caught in your throat like a lump of lead.

He gazes back at you, those mesmerizing eyes flickering with mild curiosity as he tilts his head inquisitively. "Hm? Ah, it's you," he says, breaking the spell of silence that had enveloped you. But you can hardly hear him over the thunderous pounding of your heart, which seems to be screaming one thing over and over again: He's even more breathtaking in person.

You mentally slap yourself, shaking off the remnants of your daze as you stumble over your words, handing him his bag of food with trembling hands. "R-right, sorry to keep you waiting. Here's your food, sir," you manage to stutter out, inwardly cursing yourself for apologizing. Why am I apologizing? He's the one who's in the wrong here!

He lets out a soft chuckle, and you swear the sun must be finding its way to shine through the walls of the complex as your ears burn at the mere sound of his laugh. It's so calming, so captivating, that you feel like you're floating in a dream.

"No, no. Don't apologize. It's my fault for entering the wrong address," he reassures you, his voice smooth as silk. His fingers brush over yours as he reaches for his food, sending an electric shock through your entire body at the brief contact. You can't help but notice how his gaze softens as he opens the plastic bag to check the contents, a small hum of satisfaction escaping his lips at the sight of the still-warm food. You decide not to question it— perhaps he's just feeling a bit homesick.

You continue to awkwardly stand there, your hands fidgeting nervously in your pockets as you struggle to find something to say. "So, uh, your total is 6500 credits, sir," you finally manage to blurt out, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

He blinks in mild surprise, a small "ah" escaping his lips before he nods, disappearing momentarily back into his apartment. He returns a moment later, wallet in hand, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Since I've troubled you so much, how much do you want me to pay you back with, hm?" he teases, his tone playful.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in disbelief. Well, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble, making you trek all over town just to deliver two measly items. But still, the thought of asking for more money makes you feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed. "No, that…that won't be necessary," you choke out, feeling your palms grow sweaty with nervousness. "There's no need—"

"I insist," he interrupts, his tone firm yet strangely charming.

Well, damn. You're caught between feeling grateful for his generosity and feeling utterly mortified at the prospect of asking for more payment. But with his insistence ringing in your ears, you find yourself reluctantly nodding in agreement, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"1000 credits is fine," you mumble, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of asking for more money.

"Just 1000?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you with a slight frown. "That's quite low, considering the trouble I've put you through," he adds, his fingers skimming through his wallet in search of more credits.

As he rummages through his wallet, you can't help but notice his student card peeking out from among the bills. Your lips part in shock as you realize he's a student at the IPC—yeah, he's definitely rich. You should have haggled for more money.

"Are— do you major in accounting…?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself, your eyes darting to his card. He hums in response, shaking his head. "Nah, fashion. I can't count."

The two of you maintain eye contact for a few moments, and you find yourself staring at him dumbly while he gives you a cat-like grin.

"Did you actually buy that? I'm joking. I major in both finance and accounting."

You can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his flippant attitude. This man radiates fuck-boy energy, and you're starting to have second thoughts. Does he get a pass because of his looks, or is it because of his looks that he gets a pass?

"Oh," is all you can manage to answer as he hands you a random stack of credits.

You stare dumbfounded at his outstretched hand, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you glance back and forth between the stash of credits and his gaze. "Huh? How much is this?" you inquire, still hesitant to accept the payment.

"Does it really matter?" he scoffs, nudging you playfully. "1000 credits is way too little, and I don't like scamming people. I don't stoop that low," he chuckles, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. When you don't budge, he feels a twitch in his eye before suddenly grabbing your jacket and tugging at your pockets, causing you to let out a startled yelp. "Hey! What the hell—"

Ignoring your protest, he shoves the credits inside your pocket with lazy nonchalance, letting out a whistle of satisfaction before releasing his hold. "There. Now just think of it as you were robbed in reverse," he quips, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"That's not helping!"

"It's not like your boss or whoever's in charge of the app will check your pockets, right? I'm just giving you tips, there's nothing wrong with that," he shrugs, struggling to hold back a snort at how visibly annoyed you look. If this were any other person, like an 'actual' adult or man, he'd brush it off and just toss a random wad of tips your way before politely closing the door. Maybe he'd pause for a pretty lady— well, you are a pretty lady.

But he can tell you're a student, just like him, probably working your ass off just to make ends meet. Hey, he doesn't judge. Plus, it's kind of fun to tease people occasionally, and you remind him of another acquaintance of his who's majoring in medicine.

"So, anything else?" he murmurs, leaning casually against the doorframe, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You can't help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at his nonchalant attitude. "No, that's it," you reply tersely, your voice tinged with annoyance. You can't wait to get out of here and put this bizarre encounter behind you.

He nods in acknowledgment, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "Alright then. Take care, pretty," he says, offering you a lazy wave before shutting the door gently behind him.

As you make your way back to your bike, you can't help but replay the encounter in your mind, wondering just what the hell just happened. This guy is definitely one of a kind, that's for sure.

As you swiftly exit the complex and pedal back to the train station, a dull headache begins to gnaw at your temples. You have other pending orders waiting for you back in Luofu, and the thought of having to navigate through the city once more only adds to your growing exhaustion. Yet, amidst the fatigue, a small swell of warmth tugs at your heart at the thought of not getting his number.

Sure, he provided his contact information when he placed the order, but with a guy like him, you're almost certain it's just his business line or something equally impersonal. Besides, it would feel a bit creepy to text him out of the blue. What would you even say?

'Hey, I thought you were cute after making me run laps around the city and deal with an annoying server, hmu?'

No way, that's beyond pathetic. Plus, you'd risk losing face.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrive back at the train station, your hands absentmindedly reaching up to touch your flushed cheeks, still tingling from the encounter. He's undeniably attractive, and you can't shake the nagging feeling that he probably already has a girlfriend— or several. Besides, you should be focusing on your studies, not getting involved with some rich fuck boy.

Ding!

Huh?

You're snapped out of your reverie by the sound of a notification chiming on your phone. With a curious frown, you unlock your device to see what it is.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you read the notification, your eyes widening in disbelief. What the hell is wrong with this guy? 10,000 credits? Is he insane?

With trembling hands, you quickly fish out the money he gave you from your pockets, counting through the stack under your breath to keep your panic in check. "6, 7, 8… 9…" you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you realize he gave you thrice the amount needed.

Your fingers tap frantically on your phone screen as you type out a response, your words rushed and panicked. "Dude, you gave me thrice the amount needed already—stop."

As you stare at the screen, your mind reels with disbelief. He just willingly gave you his phone number— and he thinks you're cute?

It's a little funny, in a surreal sort of way, that the entire conversation is still ongoing within the food service app. Here you are, exchanging private messages with each other despite the platform's intended purpose.

You gulp, feeling the heat rise to the tips of your ears. Your brows knit together in a mixture of disbelief and slight annoyance, the memory of the earlier encounter still fresh in your mind. After all, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble with that address mix-up.

Should you add him?

"…"

You're caught off guard as a strong gust of wind rushes past you, fluttering your hair in its wake as the Astral Express train arrives. The station immediately becomes crowded, and you struggle to maneuver your bike into the passenger compartment as people squeeze past you. Finally, you manage to park your bike and squeeze yourself into an empty corner to avoid blocking anyone.

As everyone settles into their seats and grips the handles, the doors of the train shut, and the conductor announces the next stop. You let out a sigh, knowing it'll be another 20 or so stops before you reach Luofu…

Glancing back at your phone, your fingers tap onto it mindlessly, the cabin now quiet save for the occasional cries of children or chatter between friends.

Your gaze softens as a new notification pops up.

Aventurine (loser of a customer) is now saved into your contacts.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Ding!

"Good evening to you again, pretty delivery lady."

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Cape Cod Cosmopolitan

Sub! Jeongin x Fem Dom! Reader Synopsis: A fun night at the movies Warnings: SMUT fingering, oral (m rec.), dirty talk, names (good boy, mistress), teasing, public sex, i think that's it. A/N: I hope you all enjoy my first I.N fic! Thank you again @breakmeoff for asking me to join your event! Check out the menu linked below Larie's Libations - Cape Cod Cosmopolitan [Vodka]- I.N [Cranberry Juice]- Movie Theater [Citrus Rind]- Kinks (Fem Dom) Please don't forget to tip your servers and let us know if we can get you anything else🍸

The lights go down in the theatre, the action movie you and your husband, Jeongin had decided to see was supposed to be really good, the only problem was, he looked way too good in the outfit he’d chosen for your date night. The trailers begin, your leg bouncing impatiently. You’re sitting in the back row right by the right set of stairs, alone in your row, others scattered about in the rows below you. The movie starts to play, the sound reverberating through your chest.

It's loud enough to drown out any noise that either of you could possibly make. As the movie begins your eyes flit to Jeongin multiple times, his eyes focused on the screen, completely unaware of the desires churning in your mind.

Your hand finds it’s way to his knee, I.N’s eyes snapping to you without turning his head. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you let it rest there, trying to focus your eyes to the screen as well.

Thank God for a dark movie theatre.

Slowly your hand slides up his thigh, you feel him shift under you, fingers slowly inching over him. You peek over at him, his eyes are closed, lips pursed. You smirk to yourself, hand gently rubbing over his half hard erection.

You chuckle to yourself, even after two years of marriage you still had such an effect over him.

Teasingly, you grip him, causing his eyes to pop open and he jumps in his seat shifting his hips. You quirk a brow at him, taking your hand away and putting it back in your lap, a teasing smirk present on your lips. You focus on the explosion that erupts on screen, feeling I.N’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head. You hold your composure, feeling his hand creep on to your thigh.

You simply take his hand and put it back in his lap, sitting up slightly leaning over the arm rest.

You bring your lips to his ear.

“No. Touching.” You warn. And from the light of the screen you notice his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“Nod if you understand me,” you say lowly. He nods his head slowly, fingers twitching in his lap. You plant a kiss just below his ear, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Good boy,” you mumble in his ears, your hand finding it’s way back to his clothed cock.

He shifts under you, hips light grinding, desperate. You chuckle in his ear at his eagerness.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, your hand reaching underneath to grasp him, his head lulls back, eyes closed.

“Watch the movie,” you instruct and he huffs looking forward as your hand starts to move.

“Be a good boy and you can touch me when we get home, ok?”

He whimpers as he nods. You smile, languidly stroking him, in no rush or hurry. After a while, Jeongin’s body starts to try to move, to find more friction. Your hand stops, and he looks to you again.

You smile innocently.

“Words, baby boy. Use your words.” You tease. You turn your ear to him, waiting for the words to be uttered in your ear.

“More, harder, please,” he begs, voice broken and all ready wrecked.

“More what?”

“More pressure, please Mistress.” He whimpers. Your eyes close, lip between your teeth as your thighs squeeze together.

You grip his base harder, a moan escaping him.

“Thank you,” he breathes as his head lulls back again. You kiss his neck, teeth moving to his ear lobe, gently bitting and tugging it. You pull back, moving your hand faster, and as you pull back Jeongin captures your lips for a deep kiss. When he pulls back his eyes are wide.

“I’m-I’m sorry I know you said no touching.” You kiss his lips again, gripping him like a vice, just barely enough to cause slight discomfort mixing with the pleasure.

“Yes I did.” You mumble against his lips as he twitches in your hand.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers as he grips the arm rests. Your hand stops immediately.

“Y/n what the hell?” He whisper yells.

“I said no touching.” You say simply as you sit back in your seat.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the moment, please,” he whimpers desperately in your ear, a sound that causes your walls to clench around nothing.

“You’re sorry?” you whisper to him as you quirk a brow.

“Yes,” he breathes.

“Prove it,” you whisper with a smirk. He watches as you slightly lift your skirt up, opening your legs.

“You wanted to touch me so bad, go ahead.” Your smirk.

 His hand moves hesitantly between your thigh’s fingers ghosting over your bare core.

“You didn’t wear,” he looks surprised.

“No talking, just do.” You demand and he shuts his mouth, sits back in his seat and his fingers work over your core, already damp with arousal. You close your eyes, his fingers rubbing tight circles. Your hips shift, grinding against his hand.

You try to keep quiet, but can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips, putting a small smile on I.N’s face.

“Keep going,” you whisper in his ear, resting your head on his shoulder as, mouth down against it to muffle your noises. His finger dips into your core, curling to hit the sweet spot just inside your entrance.

You fist his shirt, grounding yourself as your hips rock.

“Fuck, keep going, be a good boy and keep going,” your whisper before attaching you lips to his neck.

“Yes Mistress,” he answers and your walls clamp down on his fingers.

 He adds a second finger, pumping quicker and the explosion on the screen matches the explosion of heat in your body. Jeongin pumps his fingers as you come down from your high, helping you through it.

“Such a good boy,” you moan in his ear. He removes his fingers, and he sucks one dry, but you grab his hand and suck the other clean making eye contact with him as you taste yourself. You slip out of your chair, settling down on your knees. Jeongin looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

He watches you closely, as you free him just barely form his pants, wrapping your mouth around his head. He hisses in response, hand going to the top of your head as you peer up at him through your lashes. His eyes flutter closed, your teeth ever so lightly scrapping against his flesh.

His eyes snap open, understanding you want him to look at you. His eyes briefly scan the theatre for any onlookers but finds none. Everyone is paying attention to the movie. You hollow out your cheeks, bringing your nose to his pelvis.

Jeongin can taste metal, by how hard he’s biting his lip to keep quiet. His hips begin to lift from the seat, and you can feel him twitch in your mouth. You allow him to use your mouth, breathing heavily through your nose, as he presses your head down gently. You swirl your tongue around his head when you come back up, tasting the salty precum on your tongue.

“Fuck, I’m gonna,” he moans quietly before lurching forward, his hands gripping your hair to ground himself, his load shooting in the back of your throat as he whimpers into your hair. You swallow every bit, slowly removing your mouth from his cock, helping him get himself situated. You kiss his lips once you sit back in the seat. But as you sit, he gets up.

“What are you doing?”

“Fuck the movie,” he mumbles and pulls you up out of your seat. He leads you down to the steps like a true gentleman before pulling you out of the theatre like a teenage boy, you giggling behind him.

Tags: @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi @thelovelybireader @crystal005

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☆.｡.:° Swaying to your love °:.｡.☆

One of the lovely members in the discord server i'm in answered my plea for a request (i'm itching to write + i'm procrastinating on my other fics, sorry), so this was born :)

Pairing(s): Carlos Sainz Jr/Plus size!reader) Wordcount: 1,2k words Warnings: unkind thoughts about yourself, vaguely lustful thoughts from Carlos, but what did you expect? A/n: hope you like it :)

Here's the prompt:

Carlos x plus size!reader and they’re dating and he catches her learning to dance to his Spanish music and she gets self conscious bc of how she looks and how she doesn’t look like stereotypical Latin dancer girls. But he obvi loves her no matter what and they dance together

You’ve been dancing for months now. Slow movements with your hips and with your body, trying to understand the flow of the music that flows in your ears and continues its way through your veins, ending at the tips of your fingers. You try to do it when Carlos is at work, because you know you would never live it down if he caught you clumsily dancing. 

Not that he would ever mock you, he’s too nice for that, but sometimes you catch him watching you when you move and his eyes darken and it makes you hot all over, the feeling of a prey when a predator is ready to pounce. 

And well… You know what you look like. People like to say that your face is wasted on your body, and so dancing has never been a big part of your life. But when you’re alone at your shared apartment and the blinds are closed, you turn on the tv, put the sound in your headphones and you follow the long sinuous lines of the dancer explaining to their thousands of following how to create hoops with your hips and how to place your arms so create an alluring shape; during these sessions, as you call them, you never look in the mirror. Your reflection makes you look too big and the room too small, movements so awkward that you stop moving all-together to criticize your appearance and think about all the ways you would never be like those models on the screen or the ones who walk in the paddock during race weekends.

Sometimes you wonder. You wonder how Carlos ever fell in love with you, because you don’t doubt he loves you and your mind, but would he love you more if you were to lose weight? If your number of centimeters above the meter mark matched the numbers of kilograms you see on the scale ?

You think that’s how the instagram post described it. A pretty girl, a beautiful girl, a gorgeous girl is one who goes to a pilate class most mornings of the week, who manages to get into a small sized dress, and who eats more salad in a meal than what you eat in two days.

You probably have the same chest size as they do, or at least it’s that way in your head. But you’re more of a block, hair not as long as theirs and not as silky black, and their small hips to create a contrast with their hips, leggings hugging the shape of their thighs down to dainty ankles you don’t have. 

You think of Carlos’s hands as you slowly sway your hips, following the woman on the screen of the TV, the music decelerating from the faster beat it was at. It flows through your mind, making you forget the time, losing yourself to the sound coming from the headphones Carlos bought you because you made a passing remark about how your old ones were about to fall apart. You can feel your sweat gathering in your neck, trickling down your back and being absorbed in your black sports’s bra, under the white T-shirt you use for these moments.

The loud music is probably the reason you don’t hear the front lock unlocking, and you don’t register the telltale sound of Carlos’s trainers on the hardwood floor, the thud of his sports bag hitting the floor as he stares at you, eyes widening before his pupils dilate at the sight of you in the middle of the living room, the coffee table pushed to the side to give you space as you dance, your beautiful body swaying to the music he can barely hear coming from your headphones.

He can’t stop staring at you, hungry eyes going up and down your body. He would devour you, he thinks. Worship your body as the most faithful believer at the altar. Get on his knees and pray for the tips of your fingers barely touching you. You are a sight to behold. From his position at the door, he can only see part of your face, as glowing as the most beautiful of jewels. 

You still haven’t heard him, and so he slowly approaches you and puts his arms around you, his nose on the back of your neck as he inhales; and now you can feel him, his body glued to your back, and you would recognise his shape everywhere. It’s the shape you sleep beside at night, the shape you constantly think about when he is not there.

You would usually be happy to see him. But you’re sweaty, and you probably look ridiculous in this skirt, the one you keep at the back of your closet like a dirty little secret, the one you only get out for these moments alone, these moments when you try and mostly fail to learn how to dance to the rhythm of Spanish music.  

His hands reach up, taking off your headphones, the ones he gave you and he smiles. He detaches his body from yours, putting down the headphones and turning them off, using the remote to link the music now coming from the TV to the speaker in the room. You still haven’t turned around, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. You can’t believe you forgot he had a shorter training session today. 

And now the love of your life has seen you move around in front of the TV, probably looking like a headless chicken, not knowing what to do with your limbs and now he’s going to understand that your body could never compare to the ones he sees everyday, those girls you only get to see through your screen as you get more and more inside your own head.

“Hola cariño, would you please look at me?” You shake your head. There is no way for you to turn around and see the disgust in his eyes when he watches your face, shiny with sweat, hair in disarray. 

He gets in front of you and puts his hands on your hips. “Querida, please open your eyes.��� 

You can’t deny him. You’ve never been good at that. Your default setting is probably to try and listen to him. And so you open your eyes, bracing yourself. He’s looking at you, dark eyes and pupil larges, as if to absorb the whole of you and imprint this view to the back of his retinas, to never forget what this sight is. You, glowing and doe eyes watching him in silence, wondering what he’s thinking about.

But the music coming from the speaker, slow at first but going crescendo, drowns your doubting thoughts and his hands on your hips trace the shape of your body, up to your arms and down to your hands. He tugs at you.

“Come on cariño, let us dance to this music”, and you can’t help but follow his steps, mirrorring him, what you’ve learnt in the past months coming back to your body and limbs, if not your mind. 

And now you’ve stopped worrying, a grin at your lips and a spark in your eyes, and when he mimes falling at your feet, you laugh, the sound echoing around the room, amidst the music and the love you share for each other.

☆: .｡.o.｡.:☆

Hope you liked it! don't hesitate to hmu if you have another request, you know my tumblr and i put the fandoms i write for in my master post :))

☽ Moon ☾

tag ask: @addictf1

[metalfuzzwriting]

Price x Reader: Bartender

Price meets a bartender who seems to understand.

“How about I pour you a glass on the house, you look a hit worked up. Something bothering you?” Price startles at the voice coming from beside him. He'd been so out of it he didn't realize the Bartender had gone down the line and reached him at the end already.

“Ah. Yeah. Just some work stuff.” Price sniffs and rubs at his nose before clearing this throat. “Being in charge of men who don't want to listen, for better or worse. Love the boys, but sometimes they make me do much more paperwork than necessary.”

“Military yeah?”

“How'd you tell?”

The Bartender chuckles and shakes their head before placing a glass on the counter from behind the bar. “You're wearing a shirt that says Captain John Price on the breast pocket. Made some assumptions because you didn't look like you played on a sports team. Only one other captain I could think of.”

Price looks down at his shirt, totally forgetting he'd thrown on the blasted thing. It was all he had left in his drawer that wasn't in the laundry basket. “Seems so. If you're still thinking about letting me have that drink, I might have to take you up on it. Seems I've gone and embarrassed myself.”

The bartender lets out a bark of laugWhat'and bangs their hand on the bar top twice before snorting. They shake their head and scoot the glass toward Price. “What're we feeling today, Captain?”

“Hate to admit it to the bastard I'm annoyed with, but in the spirit of my anger hit me with a scotch. Neat preferably.”

The Bartender winks and crouches blow the counter for a few seconds before popping back up. He begins pouring the drink with a laugh. “My kinda man, it seems. Anything else I can get for the Captain?”

Price seems to think for a moment before smiling, his mustache riding up with the movement. “Your number, maybe? Here I went and embarrassed myself once, hoping that's enough for this interaction.”

The bartender laughs and taps the counter again. “I'll see about it, Captain.”

Price watches the bartender move away and begin serving the others at the bar once again, he continues to sip at his drink with a sigh. Worth a shot, regardless.

Eventually, the end of his bar trip comes to an end and he waves for his tab. He had gotten a few refills throughout the evening after the first glass was poured. The Bartender from before slides his tab over to him to sign off on it and written on it is a scribbled out number followed by a smiley face with a note reading ‘Don't worry about it. I paid. Hope to talk more, Captain.’

Price looks up from the paper to see the bartender send a wink his way with a smile before turning around to continue serving. He carefully tucks the paper into his wallet while leaving a generous tip. He wasn't about to let the other get away with nothing after all, cheeky bastard.

As always, requests are open. Also if you'd like to pop in and chat about cod, here's my discord server :)