#the weekend bartender who flirts with every girl at work was like

[baby-prophet]

had a crazy fucked up dream about 3 of my ex/coworkers we'll call them by their initials (D, Y & B) where we plan this whole bank robbery and it was all going to plan until something went wrong when we actually robbed the bank and we had to split up. we agreed to meet at the getaway car but when me & D got there we couldn't find the other two anywhere... so we had to go back and try to find them. we eventually did find Y&B in a tiny closet and it was clear we were interrupting.. something.... B got really really mad at me specifically saying its not what you think.. and he like lunged forward as if he were going to strangle me but just before his hands reached my throat, in a puff of smoke he turned into a bunch of snakes and slithered off. and Y was just like "oh rip..." then we make it back to my car and I'm driving us up this like mountain with the sea on one side. we go around a sharp turn, there's something slick on the road and I lose control of the car. I run off the road into the guard rails. the car is precariously balanced on the edge so we're like holy shit we almost died. we robbed a bank and almost died and here we are. and we are laughing/ relieved until it gets real quiet and I look down and see that I got impaled by the steering wheel. we sit in silence for a moment and then D got out of the car and said well.. good luck with that......... and Y was like im sorry allie and got out too and that was enough to shift the balance and the car went over the cliff and I woke up before I hit the water :(

[born-to-lose]

Double shift last weekend and this is the only picture I got (which my coworker actually took with me for her Facebook story RIGHT when I looked like shit and it was low effort makeup day because I had to be there early to open the bar)

[sturnioz]

‘CRUSH’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. drummer!matthew sturniolo x reader genre. band au, smut, fluff

word count. 10.1k

❝let me take you backstage. just you and me, yeah?❞

content warnings. explicit content, alcohol usage, mentions of weed, unprotected sex, backstage sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praising, creampie,

authors note. fake bands are mentioned in this. if there is a band with the same name out there, im sorry lol

Despite his love for blending in with the crowd and remaining mysterious and unseen, Matt is anything but unnoticeable. The singular stripe of red dye in his black hair, the black eyeliner that smudges at the corners of his eyes, the tattoos that decorate his arms, and the oversized graphic clothing that drowns his frame… he stands out.

Matt—admittedly—sticks out like a sore thumb.

It isn’t exactly his fault. (It is, but he won’t admit it).

Matt loves tattooing his skin with crazy and memorable designs, wearing clothes far larger than his usual size, and stomping around in heavy boots. Matt also loves filling his waterline with black eyeliner and accessorising with silver jewellery. 

Painting his nails is another favourite of his too, though he usually goes for a chipped, all-black look.

It also doesn’t help that Matt is in a band alongside his brothers and childhood best friend. While the band isn’t huge, they perform almost every weekend at a popular bar in their hometown, attracting a crowd over 100 people that try their best to cram themselves in just to see them whenever they manage to book a gig.

So, maybe it is his fault.

But he never expected the level of attention it would bring him—eyes ogling from every direction, hushed whispers whenever he enters a room, and a constant stream of compliments filling his DMs on social media as well as being said directly to his face.

Matt secretly loves the attention, but he has never been the one to make a move when girls throw themselves at him, hinting for a quick hook-up or even a relationship. He just wasn't interested enough—no one has ever truly captured his attention.

That is until he saw you at one of the band’s gigs.

You were sitting in a booth with a friend, sipping a Coke through a straw and taking in your seemingly unfamiliar surroundings. Matt was instantly captivated by your presence, wanting nothing more than to gather the courage to walk over and strike a conversation—to learn more about you. 

“Starin’ makes you look creepy.”

Matt’s bandmate and childhood best friend, Nate, remarks, hardly even glancing Matt’s way. His attention is instead confused on his own reflection in the mirror backdrop behind the bar, standing on his tiptoes to see better over the rows of liquor bottles, trying to restyle his newly dyed hair, the sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick.

Nate continues, “Go talk to her. Work that so-called ‘Matt Magic’ I hear Chris yappin’ about.”

“Trust me, it’s real.” Chris declares, suddenly appearing and throwing himself down into the seat beside Matt.

He slams a tray of multicoloured shots onto the bar counter, spilling half the contents and leaving the bartender cursing under his breath as he wipes up the mess, glaring at Chris who just grins cheekily, avoiding confrontation.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes, alright?” Chris continues. “It works like magic—makes the ladies drop to their knees in an instant.”

Nate’s brow raises in amusement, “In the many years I’ve known Matt, I’ve never seen him hook-up or flirt with anyone…” Nate pauses, a teasing grin sliding onto his lips. “Got some problems goin’ on down there or what?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Matt grumbles, swatting away Nate’s hand as he tries to reach out and pat his cheek. 

Nate cackles, shaking his head as he grabs one of the shots that Chris eagerly hands out to the group. He then calls out to Nick, who emerges from backstage, adjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders as he settles down beside Chris.

Chris hums as he tugs the collar of Nick’s shirt down, “Nice marks, kid. Who was it this time?”

“None of your fucking business.” Nick answers with a hiss, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

“You’re always in mine,” Chris shoots back, causing Nick to gape at him. “Don’t give me that look, kid. You’re always yappin’ in my ear about the sisters.”

“Oh, Thing 1 and Thing 2,” Nick grins at the mention of the twin sisters that Chris frequently hooks-up with. “Who was the one that was here last time?”

“Zoe,” Chris answers, but the blank look on Nick’s face causes Chris to sigh in annoyance before clarifying, “Thing 1.”

“I thought Thing 1 was Chloe?” Nate chimes in, pulling a confused face.

Chris is quick to jump to Zoe’s defence, arguing that she’s number one, but Matt tunes out the rest of the conversation, rolling his eyes as he picks up the shot glass and downs it quickly before bringing his beer bottle up to his lips.

He then turns his neck slightly to look over at you once again, spotting you this time smiling at your friend and clinking your simple glass of Coke to her colourful cocktail.

Matt can’t help but continue sneaking glances your way. He is, undoubtedly, interested in you. This is unfamiliar territory for him—he’s never felt this drawn to someone before.

He’s not scared or nervous, and he really would walk on over to you to begin a conversation if it wasn’t for the fact you weren’t alone. Your friend was glued to your side… and he hated it.

Matt inwardly curses, wishing he could just get rid of your friend and have you all to himself for the night, but you two seem inseparable. He takes another swig of his beer, his mind racing with ideas. There has to be a way to separate you from your friend, even if it was just for a moment.

He can’t let this opportunity slip away, he’s going to have to find a way to get you alone. Or he’s going to have to wait for the right moment.

“I think he’s staring at me,” Talia whispers across the booth to you. She straightens her posture and runs her fingers through her hair, fixing any stray strands as she takes a quick glance at her reflection in her phone screen. “How do I look? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“You look fine,” You reassure with a nod, sipping your Coke through the straw. Your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you watch Talia fuss over her appearance, pulling the neckline of her dress lower to show more cleavage. “But who’s staring at you?”

“The tattooed guy with the red strand in his hair, sitting at the bar behind y—The fuck? Don’t turn around!” You ignore Talia’s feeble attempts to redirect your attention as you spin around, easily spotting the man sitting at the bar surrounded by other similar-looking people.

You snort at the sight, but can’t help but notice his attention doesn’t seem to be on your friend. Slowly turning back to face Talia, you see her shoulders sag in defeat.

“He was staring. He looked away as soon as you turned around.”

“I believe you,” You tell her, getting comfortable in your seat as you observe the way she takes quick glances behind you, holding her head high with confidence. “Who is he, anyways?”

“You’re kidding,” Talia baffles, her eyes going wide. She takes offence when you shake your head. “It’s Matt. The guy that’s on my Instagram feed. His band is playing tonight—he’s the reason why we’re here!”

You frown at that, “I thought you wanted to hang out?”

“I do!” Talia quickly says, but you’re less than impressed. She exhales deeply, “Listen… Matt is the drummer in the band that performed earlier, and I haven’t been able to have much free time to see them play. On top of that, we haven’t hung out in a while and this is the only weekend we seem to be available — so I’m basically hitting two birds with one stone here, can you really blame me?”

“Guess not.” You sigh, even though you’re still not impressed with what’s going on.

You felt a little bit used and lied to, especially when she burst through your dorm room earlier and rambled excitedly about how she’s looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.

Your mood turns sour when it dawns on you that you'll most likely be heading back to your dorm room alone tonight, knowing that she will probably blow you off to go blow off some other guy—literally.

You wish you were the type of person to be selfish — to tell her that you’re not happy with her possibly leaving you to go hook-up with some guy, and demand her to stay with you all night to catch up and go home together with a takeout bag full of junk food, and watch a shitty old movie on your small laptop screen.

But you’ve never been that way.

You have never been selfish.

“I need to go pee,” Talia announces, her face twisting in discomfort as she pushes her empty cocktail glass across the table and awkwardly shuffles out of the booth. She picks up her handbag and rummages through quickly, pulling out her purse and shoving it in your hands. “Go get us another drink, and no more Cokes for you either.”

You don’t even get the chance to say anything as Talia waddles away in a rush towards the bathrooms and you push yourself out of the booth with a huff, clutching her purse in your grasp as you weave through the crowd of people blocking your path to the bar, seemingly busy with their conversations to even make room.

The grip on Talia’s purse tightens as you finally reach the counter, watching the bartender lean in to chat up some customer with a flirtatious smile. 

You debate on going back to the booth and waiting for Talia so she can work her charm to get you both more drinks. But you decide against it, instead hoisting yourself up onto a vacant barstool, so focussed on the bartender and his cheesy pickup lines that you’re completely unaware of who is sitting next to you.

Matt struggles to contain himself when he feels your shoulder brush against his as you sit down beside him at the bar. He steals a quick glance your way, his heart racing, but you’re focussed intently on the bartender, seemingly oblivious to Matt’s presence.  

Matt knows Brent, the bartender, all too well—he’s notorious for getting distracted as he flirts with customers, leaving others waiting, so you won’t be getting served any time soon.

This could be Matt’s chance to finally talk to you, to have the conversation he’s been yearning for since he first laid eyes on you. But the words catch in his throat, and he finds himself unable to face you directly, especially with his bandmates mocking him from the corner of his eye.

Chris makes obnoxious kissing noises, causing Matt to snap his head in that direction, but Chris doesn’t back down from his teasing as he grins and nudges his shoulder. 

“C’mon, kid. Show us that ‘Matt Magic’,” The wiggle of Chris’s eyebrows makes Matt want to fight, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has around his beer bottle. Chris quickly throws his hands up in defence. “Just want you to have some fun, man.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it—like it actually hurts me—Chris is right,” Nick chimes in, his eyes flitting between Matt and yourself, who is still wrapped up in your own head to hear the conversation that’s going on. It surprises him. “You’re surrounded by very beautiful women who clearly show interest in you, and you don’t give a fuck. At all.” 

“Maybe Matt does have some problems goin’ on down there…” Nate drawls as his eyes dip down to Matt’s jeans, tilting his head to the side teasingly. Matt rolls his eyes at Nate’s comment and reaches out to kick him, but Nick intervenes by pushing Nate to the side while Chris grins, amused by the situation.

“Look,” Nick sighs. “As much as I would love for you to get out there, it’s all on your terms. Don’t let these fucks peer pressure you into doing shit.”

Matt doesn’t feel pressured, not one bit.

But all he wants right now is for his brothers and friend to give him some space so he can be alone with you. It would be the perfect opportunity, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the others making grand gestures behind his back or worse, interrupting the conversation. 

As if reading his mind, Nick grips the back of Chris and Nate’s shirts, hauling them away from the bar, though they don’t stay too far—still within reach of their drinks and shots. 

It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. 

Matt takes a deep breath, gently tugging on the earring dangling from his ear as he finally turns in his seat to face you… just in time for the bartender to finish his flirting. 

Fuck.

“Sorry about that,” The bartender apologises to you with a faint chuckle as he stands in front of you, running his fingers through his dark hair and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before resting his hands on his hips.

It gives you a full view of his all black sleeveless shirt that’s tucked into a pair of dark jeans, and you can’t help but notice the white name tag that stands out against the outfit, identifying him as Brent. 

Brent gives you a charming smile, “What can I get for you?”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to remember the name of the cocktail Talia had ordered earlier. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you scan the drinks menu above the bar, pointing to the cheapest options and you’re about to speak up until a voice suddenly interrupts you.

“Can I have a beer, a cosmopolitan, and a Coke?”

You whip your head to the side in annoyance, ready to give the rude customer a piece of your mind for cutting in. But the insults die on your lips as you realise who exactly it is. 

It’s the tattooed arm and the flash of red in his hair that lets you know who it is—the guy that Talia has been non-stop talking about, and has been so fascinated with the past couple of months, and even the main topic of tonight's conversations. 

Your eyebrows raise in slight shock. You’re beginning to see the appeal… Matt is really pretty. 

With Matt seated so close—shoulder to shoulder—you have the opportunity to really take in every detail of his appearance. Though you’ve basically heard Talia rave about him, you’ve never seen him up close and personal before. 

The smudged eyeliner and subtle black eyeshadow around his blue eyes give him a slightly intimidating look, but there’s a certain allure to it that makes you sink back into your seat, captivated. 

You can’t help but notice the tattoos decorating his arm, the flash of vibrant red in his hair, and the small hole on the side of his nostril that makes you wonder if that’s where a nose piercing once was. The redness around the area suggests he or someone else may have attempted to pierce it recently — perhaps even today.

“That’s what you’re both drinkin’, yeah?” Matt’s question snaps you out of your captivated staring, and he shifts in his seat as he turns to face you fully, the chains on his all-black outfit jingling with his movements.

As he drums his fingernails against the bar as he waits for your answer, you notice the black chipped nail polish, some definitely more chipped than others, but the look suits his edgy appearance perfectly.

“Yes—yeah, I think so…”  You answer quickly, realising you’ve been quiet for far too long. But then you pause, your face twisting in confusion as you glance between him and the drinks being made. “How did you know that?”

The corner of Matt’s lip curves upwards in amusement, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I guessed.”

“Here you go, gorgeous,” Brent interrupts as he slides the cocktail and Coke glass in your direction with precise aim, managing to not spill a drop. He then settles the beer bottle down in front of Matt next. “That will be—”

“Wait, can I get another one of those?” You cut him off as you point to the pink-coloured concoction in front of you, and Brent sends a wink your way as he turns on his heel to prepare the drink.

You give him a small smile as a thank you and you turn back to look at Matt who’s already looking at you with his eyebrow raised, and you suddenly feel the need to explain yourself.

“It’s for me.”

Matt nods slowly, “Had enough of the Cokes?”

“No, not exactly… She told me earlier not to get another one,” You say as you glance down at the full glass of Coke in front of you with pursed lips. “But I’ll still take this, you know, just in case I don’t like the cocktail.”

Matt smiles at that, and he reaches for the beer bottle with one hand while the other dips inside his pocket as soon as Brent returns with your newly made drink. He gives you the price and your eyes almost bulge out at the numbers, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you tell him you’ll pay by card.

You’re already mentally preparing yourself for Talia’s reaction when she finds out about the cost. It makes you grimace just thinking about the consequences as you dig through her purse to find her card, but the sound of a machine beeping brings you out of your search, and you lift your head to see Matt with his arm outstretched, his own bank card in hand and pressed down on the card reader.

Did he just…?

Your mouth repeatedly opens and closes in shock, unable to fully process what just happened even though it was the most simplest thing. 

Brent’s giving Matt an amused look, his tongue prodding at his cheek to hide the obvious smirk on his face as he shoves the card reader back beneath the bar, and he flutters his fingers at you for a quick goodbye as he serves another customer — you briefly overhear him compliment their hair, but you pay him no attention as you’re meeting eyes with Matt who seems nonchalant about paying for all of your pricey drinks.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You protest quietly. “I had the money, I—”

“I wanted to,” Matt cuts you off, bringing his beer to his lip and taking a sip all while keeping his eyes on you. “I haven’t seen you around this bar before, so think of it as a welcome gift… from me to you.”

“That’s… sweet. Thank you,” You show him your gratitude, warmth spreading in your chest at his unexpected gesture.

Matt nods his head and reaches over to gently clink his beer bottle against one of your cocktail glasses before taking a sip. You decide to follow suit, bringing the reddish-pink cocktail drunk to your lips.

But the second the liquid touches your tongue, your face twists in an unexpected reaction to the flavour, the taste catching you by surprise which causes the involuntary expression that flashes across your features. 

Matt watches your reaction intently, an amused glint in his eye as he takes another sip of his beer while you place the cocktail back down on the bar to quickly grab your glass of Coke, washing down the taste with something you’re a lot more familiar with.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s different,” You admit with an awkward laugh. You feel slightly embarrassed at pulling the most unattractive face and not enjoying a drink that he bought out of his money. “But it’s still a gift, so I’ll drink it.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that,” Matt shakes his head, the amusement still sparkling in his eyes as he reaches for his card. “Let me buy you another—”

“No!” You immediately interject, not wanting him to spend any more of his money on the expensive drinks. Matt seems a little surprised at your sudden burst, and he reels his hand back to his lap. You cringe at your tone before adding. “I will drink it.”

“Yeah?” He hums, his eyes flitting down to the cocktail on the bar before meeting your gaze again. He tilts his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure about that?”

Your heart thumps at the intensity of his stare, a look you’re unfamiliar with. You nod, doing your best to sound confident as you mutter, “Very.”

“Was there a queue at the bar or something? You took so long,” Talia frowns as soon as you arrive back at your shared booth with both cocktails in hand.

Your tongue pokes out in concentration, careful to not spill anything as you hand one over to Talia who takes it in her grasp.

“Thanks, babe. But did you not use my card? I didn’t get the notification on my phone that my card was being used—did you get us a cosmopolitan?! Do you realise how fucking expensive these are here?!”

“Relax, I didn’t buy these,” You tell her as you slide into the booth, sliding Talia her purse. She stares at you, confusion written across her face, so you clarify; “Courtesy of your favourite drummer boy.”

“Matt bought me a drink?” The look that plasters across Talia’s face is priceless, and you bite back the urge to add on how he bought your drink too. But you let her live in her moment as you nod your head, watching as she takes the information in with wide, excited eyes. “Holy shit. He totally likes me—I fucking knew it. Did he say anything?”

“About what?” You ask, your brows pulling together and Talia points at herself. “Oh, no, not really. He was just talking about alcohol, you know… considering we were both at the bar.”

Talia sighs dreamily, “My type of guy.”

“Yeah, he seems interesting.” You find yourself agreeing, pressing your lips firmly together as you glance over your shoulder in a somewhat hopeful manner that you’ll see Matt still at the bar, sipping his beer or maybe even watching you from afar. But when you don’t see him, you feel an unexpected pang of disappointment.

It’s strange — you’ve never spoken to Matt before today, and your interaction was brief. Yet there’s something about him that has piqued your curiosity, leaving you wanting to know more.

You struggle to explain this newfound fascination. It’s completely out of character for you to be so preoccupied with a near-stranger, especially one that is your best friend’s crush. Normally, you would shrug something like this off and focus on the evening with Talia.

But now, there’s a heaviness in your chest, a restless energy that has you craving another encounter with Matt. 

Was it the intensity of his gaze that captivated you? The confident, almost flirtatious yet mysterious way he carried himself? Or was it simply the unexpected gesture of buying you a drink — a gesture that, for whatever reason, has left a lasting impression.

You’ve never been like this before. 

So why now? Why all of a sudden?

“What are you thinking about?” Talia’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts and you turn your head back in her direction. You quickly shrug your shoulders and shake your head to silently tell her that it was nothing, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not thinking—”

“You were staring at the bar,” Talia points out before she decides to follow your gaze, her lips pursing in deep thought as she scans the surroundings. She suddenly smiles, “Are you staring at Brent? The bartender?”

“I said I’m—”

“You should go for it. I heard he gives really good head and honestly—no offence—you need it. He could definitely loosen you up and give you a good time.”

You deadpan, “Are you saying that because it’s the truth, or is it because you’ll feel bad that I’d have to walk home alone while you’re getting laid?”

“Both.” Talia sends you a sly wink, and she clinks her cocktail glass to yours before taking a sip.

You exhale softly with a roll of your eyes, reaching for your own cocktail until your hand stops halfway when you realise you’ve lost the Coke you had left at the bar — it’s likely been snatched up by another customer that got excited over a free drink. 

You really don’t like the flavour of his cocktail, and you find yourself wishing you had something to wash it down with. It pains you.

You consider being a bit dramatic, holding your nose to avoid tasting it, or digging through your purse for some gum that you know is pooling at the bottom somewhere. But you decide to just suck it up and drink it without making a fuss.

After all, it was a gift.

Just as you’re about to bring the glass to your lips, another is suddenly placed in front of you — a fresh, bubbly Coke with ice and a red straw that faces towards you..

Talia’s the first to respond to this stranger, her hand flying to cover her mouth to stifle her reaction as she chokes on her drink, her eyes strained and watery. You check on her to make sure that she’s okay before you glance up, slightly taken aback when you see Matt.

“You forgot your drink at the bar,” He tells you in a low tone. His eyes flick down to the cocktail in your hands, and his eyebrow raises slightly. “Are you sure you’re goin' to drink it?”

“I was going to.” Your reply in a whisper. But before you can say anything else, Matt is taking the cocktail from your hands and replacing it with the fresh Coke he’s brought over.

He holds the stem of the cocktail glass between his fingers, eyeing the brightly coloured drink for a moment before sliding it over to Talia, who is still uncharacteristically speechless. She quickly regains her composure, grasping the drink and pulling it close to her chest, as if it’s the most meaningful thing anyone has ever done for her.

“Enjoy this one instead,” Matt murmurs to you, and just as he begins to turn away, you find yourself calling out his name.

You’re not entirely sure why you’ve done so — perhaps it’s a reluctance to let him go so quickly, a desire to indulge the growing fascination you’ve developed for him. Or maybe it’s because you can see the gears turning in Talia’s head as she tries to figure out how to start a conversation with him—to flirt with him.

You’re a good friend to Talia, you always have been.

You always put her first.

“Do you want to join us?” You offer with a friendly smile, and you gesture towards the empty seat opposite you—beside Talia. “You’re welcome to come sit with us and hang out, unless you have somewhere else to be?”

Matt is quiet for a moment, his eyes darting around the bar as if he’s searching for something, but then he nods and takes you up on your offer. Talia’s beaming ear to ear with excitement, shuffling to the side to make space for him on her side of the booth.

But to your surprise, Matt sits down beside you instead, his shoulder knocking heavily against yours as he settles into the small space. He apologises quickly, lifting a hand to gently rub the sore spot.

You find yourself glued to your seat, sandwiched between the wooden barrier on the right and Matt’s body pressed against your left. The heat radiating off him envelops you, but you try not to pay too much attention to it, especially when you see Talia eyeing the two of you with a slightly wrinkled nose and an upturned lip.

However, Talia’s expression soon shifts to a grin as she turns her attention to Matt, “Thank you for buying the drinks,” She gestures towards the cocktail in front of her. “I’ll get your next one.”

“I appreciate that,” Matt replies, dipping his head in gratitude. 

He takes a quick sip of his beer, and you notice Talia watching him carefully, her eyebrows furrowing as she tilts her head, trying to read the label from her seat.

Matt seems to pick up on this, and he comically and slowly rotates the bottle in Talia’s direction. “It’s new — Brent got it delivered today.”

“Lost Boys? He got a drink named after one of your songs?” Talia teases playfully, and Matt simply nods in response. You fight the urge to snort at that fact, finding it a little amusing.

“You should try it,” Matt nudges you softly, offering you a taste of his beer. You are about to decline, to shake your head and say you’re fine with the Coke, but the smile that dances across his lips is enough to make you slowly change your mind. “I think you might like this better than the cocktail.”

You don’t question it further, and instead take the beer in your hands, taking a tentative sip. You’re a bit hesitant on the initial taste, rubbing your lips together firmly as Matt and Talia watch you, waiting for your honest opinion. you just take the beer in your hands for a sip and you’re hesitant on the taste that hits your tongue, rubbing your lips together firmly as the pair watch you, waiting for your honest opinion.

You swallow thickly, but are pleasantly surprised. “It’s actually really good.”

Matt hums, “Told you.”

“Let me try,” Talia chimes in, reaching out for the beer. You happily hand it over to her, but then you realise your mistake, turning to look at Matt with a slightly apologetic look on your face as it dawns on you that you’re sharing around his drink. 

Matt’s already watching you when you look at him, and you go to apologise, but Talia’s already handing him back his beer with a satisfied expression. 

“I like it too—it’s sweet.” She confirms. 

“That can be the next round of drinks then, yeah?” Matt says, his eyes briefly darting down to Talia’s purse beside her. 

Talia’s smile falters for a moment when she remembers that she was the one that offered to buy him his next drink. You can tell she’s thinking about the dent these drinks are going to put on her bank account, but she quickly musters up another smile and nods her head, excited at the thought of buying Matt something.

Before Talia can respond, you decide to come to her aid as your hand slips towards your own purse. “You don’t have to buy the next drink. We can go in halves—”

“Don’t offend me like that,” Talia cuts you off with a playful flip of her hair. “I have the money. I’ll get it.”

You wince at that, unconvinced. “You sure?”

“Totally,” Talia smirks. She then turns to face Matt, who has been quietly sipping his beer. “Your set earlier was fucking amazing, by the way. The band is so—”

“DID SOMEBODY SAY SHOTS?!” An unfamiliar voice screeches at the top of their lungs as a tray of multicoloured shots is suddenly thrust onto the table in front of you all, causing some of the liquid to spill over. A quick hand reaches out to try and recover them despite half of the liquid pooling around the tray.

As your eyes trail up the arm of the person who brought over the shots, you’re surprised to see an identical-looking guy to Matt, but with a backwards cap on his curly head of brown hair. His cheeks are flushed—a clear sign that he’s had quite a bit to drink already.

Standing on one side of him is another identical-looking guy, but with blonde hair, and he’s cursing under his breath and scolding the backwards capped one for the mess he’s created.

The capped guy is trying (and failing) to scoop the spilled alcohol back into the cups using just his pinky finger. It’s a comical sight, with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in pure concentration.

“This is the second fuckin’ time this has happened,” Matt informs with a sigh, but the chuckle that escapes him shows he’s not as annoyed as he’s letting on. “Chris also spilled them earlier.”

The backwards capped guy, who you now discover is named Chris, snaps his head up in offence at Matt’s comment and stops his failed attempts at trying to scoop the alcohol back into the shot glasses.

“I tripped over your fuckin’ dumbass shoe actually,” Chris hisses through his teeth as he knocks his foot against Matt, who doesn’t seem fazed at the attack at all. “Anyway. Scoot up, let us in.”

“Are you joining us?” Talia’s eyes twinkle at the thought of her favourite band joining the booth, and you couldn’t help but feel happy for her, knowing that she’s been waiting for this moment to happen.

However, you can’t help but feel a bit confused and slightly worried about where the others would fit, especially inside the cramped booth. It could fit four people at most, but you weren’t sure about the six. You’re already feeling a bit squished beside Matt and the wooden barrier.

“Of course we’re joining you, that’s the reason why we got shots.” The blonde-haired guy, who you found out is called Nick, scoffs as he makes a quick gesture to Talia to scoot up, creating just enough room for him and the other bandmate, Nate (who funnily enough has a name tag written across his chest), to squeeze in on her side of the booth.

“Excuse me, kid.” Chris grunts as he clamps a hand down on Matt’s shoulder to push himself up, placing his shoe on the smallest bit of booth space between Matt’s legs before climbing over you both, muttering how he doesn’t want to sit on the end.

Matt’s arm slides around your middle in an instant as he moves to the edge of the booth, pulling you along with him to let Chris sit at your other side, allowing Chris to be squashed between you and the wooden barrier instead. He weirdly seems okay with it, although he does wince when he feels your purse dig into his side, and you’re quick to move it with an apology, but he dismisses it with a wave and a kind smile.

Now you’re pressed right up against Matt, his arm bringing you even close to him. After a few moments, he lets you go, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your back as he gently pulls your shirt that had risen up back down, keeping you decent before his arm falls back into his own lap.

The brief touch sends goosebumps crawling up your skin, and you involuntarily shiver. You straighten your posture and tear your attention away from Matt’s wandering eyes, missing the small grin that tugs at the corners of his lips.

What you don’t miss is Talia staring at you, and as soon as you meet her gaze, her lips pull into a tight smile which you return back, grabbing your glass of Coke to distract yourself from what just happened.

“You. Nuh-uh—no way, kid. Put that down,” Nate points a finger at you and shakes his head with a tut. “We’re taking shots before we continue anythin’. You pick first.”

Reaching for one of the spilled shots that has the least amount of drink in it, you go for the easiest option. Nate’s mouth drops and his eyebrows knit together, as if you’ve just outwardly offended him, but he doesn’t say anything as he and the others quickly pick their own shots and clink their glasses together, eagerly downing the drinks.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the fruity taste that slides down your throat, but you can’t help but wince at the burn it leaves behind, similar to Nick, who starts to complain.

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick fake retches and rubs his throat, his other hand quickly reaching for his beer to wash down the taste. “What flavour was that—What did you fucking get?!”

“I dunno—a whole bunch of different shit,” Chris shrugs as he picks up Nick’s empty shot glass, taking a sniff. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “That’s passionfruit, kid. I had that too. We matched.”

“Oh, I hate it.” Nick gags again, bringing his beer bottle to his lips again to take a few hefty gulps, clearly trying to rid himself of the unpleasant taste.

“I think me and Matt had strawberry,” Talia announces, staring at the red stain on Matt’s chosen shot gloss. She grins, “We matched.”

Matt nods, then turns to you, “What did you have?”

“Raspberry,” Nate answers for you as he winks at you from across the booth, signifying you matched shots with him.

“Oh! So not only did I have a disgusting flavour, but I matched with Chris?” Nick scoffs, eyeballing every single one of you with irritancy. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“So, what brought you both here tonight?” Chris asks you and Talia after a few more drinks, courtesy of Talia who had promised to buy the next round.

Originally, the next drinks that were bought by Talia were supposed to be for just you, her and Matt. But with the others joining the table and their constant pleading, she ended up purchasing more than she had planned.

You feel bad, especially knowing how pricey this bar is, and make a mental note to pay for half of the drinks bought at the end of the night — even though Talia keeps giving you side glances, letting you know that everything is fine.

This is her favourite band after all, and she would do anything to spend a few more minutes with them… or even just Matt.

“Just to catch up over some drinks,” You tell him, glancing over at the stage where a few of their set pieces are still laid out. “We came to listen to your band too.”

“Yeah?” Chris grins, leaning back into his seat, his legs spreading wide beneath the table. “Are you a fan of our music?”

“I’m a huge fan,” Talia gushes, and you allow her to take the lead in the conversation. She leans forward, elbows on the table, causing her cleavage to almost spill out of the top of her dress in a deliberate gesture.

You admire Talia’s confidence, even though you want to tell her that she doesn’t need to try so hard to get their attention — she’s gorgeous as is.

Talia continues, “I’ve pretty much seen every single one of your shows here.”

“Have you been to any of our shows?” Matt asks, and it takes you a moment to realise that he’s talking to you, as everyone at the table is now staring and waiting for your reply. The corner of Matt’s lip curls upwards slightly as he tilts his head. “This your first time?”

“She’s never been,” Talia answers for you. “She doesn’t listen to this type of music. I practically had to force her out of her—”

“Is there something wrong with our music?” Nick asks you with mock offence, pressing his hand against his chest like you actually wounded him. Chris tuts with a shake of his head, making a joke about how much of a fake you are while Nate stays silent with a grin, watching everything unfold.

“No, nothing is wrong with your music,” You laugh softly. “I just really like the band ‘Solarz’.”

“You like Solarz?” Nick gapes at you, the mock offence look dropping from his face as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You nod your head to confirm, and he breathes out, “I think you might seriously be my favourite person ever.”

Nate and Chris laugh at that while Matt remains quiet with a small grin on his face, keeping his eyes locked. You start to feel a little stuffy and nervous, especially with how his body is pressed against yours. 

“Solarz is incredible,” Talia chimes in above the laughter, and you smile at her, grateful for the times she’s cleared her schedule to go to their concerts with you. You really do owe her. “Matt, do you like Solarz too?”

“I think they’re great,” Matt nods, his answer short and to the point. Talia smiles, but before she can speak again, Matt turns to you and asks, “Is this really your first time watchin’ us?”

“Yeah,” You nod, glancing over at Talia, who seems a little dejected. You don’t want to see her upset or left out, so you gesture towards her, hoping to bring Matt’s attention to her. “But, like Talia said, she’s a huge fan of y—”

“I think you should let me show you what’s backstage…” Matt cuts you off, leaning forward to whisper to you, even though his words are heard by everyone in the booth.

He stares at you through the strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes, waiting for your answer. You struggle to respond, feeling all eyes on you.

Talia is clearly not impressed by Matt’s sudden invitation to you. Her mouth is hung open in shock, and her eyebrows are pulled together in a clear expression of displeasure. You can’t blame her, given how she’s been trying to flirt with Matt this whole time, only for him to disregard her advances and ask you instead if you want to see what’s backstage. 

The phrase itself seems to hold a deeper meaning, based on the reactions of the others. Matt’s brothers and Nate all look quite shocked, some more smug than others, subtly nudging each other under the table. Chris even wiggles his eyebrows as he mouths the words ‘Matt Magic’ to Nick and Nate, the former gasping in response.

You feel conflicted as Matt’s hand slips into the gap between the table and your own, his palm facing upwards as he laces his fingers with yours. The warmth of his hand is a contrast to the cold metal of his rings, and you find yourself curling your fingers around his in a gentle grip. 

“What do you say?” Matt asks, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Let me take you backstage. Just me and you, yeah? Come with me.”

You are aware of how stupid you must look right now, not speaking a word while the others are staring at you. You’re unsure of what to say, especially when a big part of you wants to decline for Talia’s sake — she’s the dedicated fan, and deserves this more than you do.

But another part of you is tempted by Matt’s invitation, drawn to him. The part wants nothing man that for you to grip his hand tighter and allow him to drag you wherever backstage.

You’ve always been unlucky with situations like these, always the one that’s left behind during hangouts at a bar while others had fun with boys or getting drunk — which, to be fair, is all on you. You never were the one to go home with some complete stranger or let yourself indulge in alcohol until you were able to function, it was never your thing. 

You nod your head just as Talia calls out your name, and your head immediately snaps in her direction, meeting her wide eyes with your own.

“Talia, I—” You start to say, but the words catch in your throat as Matt is already sliding out of the booth, his fingers tightening around yours and pulling you along with him.

You barely have time to react, hurriedly grabbing your purse as you’re whisked away from the group. You send an apologetic smile Talia’s way, wishing you could explain yourself to her, but the noises of Nate and Chris’s hollering and whooping drowns out any chance you have. 

You tighten your hand around Matt’s as he pulls you through the crowded bar, and you duck your head low to avoid the stares of strangers who watch you with him — wishing that they were in your position. It gives you a slight confidence boost, knowing that people are jealous of you, and you dwell on that feeling for a moment. 

Soon, Matt is leading you down a vacant hallway, heading towards a red door that reads ‘BACKSTAGE. STAFF AND BAND ACCESS ONLY’ in bold lettering.

“Here we go…” Matt mumbles under his breath as he pushes open the door, allowing you to walk in first.

The backstage area is a sight to behold. Fancy string lights hang from the ceiling, their bulbs flickering as Matt flips a switch to turn them on, bathing the room in a warm glow. The colour scheme is a combination of red and black — the walls are painted a blood red, adorned with various posters of bands, while a plush black carpet covers the floor, littered with instruments and clothing. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to a pair of light blue panties thrown across the arm of a leather sofa, and Matt seems to follow your gaze.

“One of Chris’s girls was in here before the show; Zoe,” The name doesn’t ring any bells, but you nod anyway, watching as he unzips a backpack with Chris’s name on it and shoves the panties inside as he mumbles under his breath, “At least Nick fuckin’ cleans up after himself.”

“Cleans up?” You can’t help but ask, and Matt responds with a grin, gently kicking the backpack to the side, out of your curious gaze.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the various items scattered about — a few zip lock bags on the glass coffee table, some filled with pre-rolled joints and others with just the marijuana.

“Chris and Nate,” Matt whispers in your ear, causing you to jump slightly at his sudden closeness. They like takin’ a hit before goin’ onstage, calms their nerves.”

You’re quiet for a moment, then ask, “What about you?”

“Sometimes, but not tonight” Matt moves to stand directly in front of you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, his rings gliding gently over your skin as he meets your gaze. “You know the reason why I brought you here, right?”

“Apparently not just to see what’s backstage,” You respond with a lighthearted laugh, though you can’t deny the nervousness bubbling within you. You swallow thickly, your palms sweaty and clammy. “I don’t—I don’t do this type of thing.”

Matt hums, “Do what?”

You feel a surge of embarrassment as the heat rises up your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to look Matt in the eyes, instead focussing on the horse necklace hanging around his neck. You wish the ground would swallow you whole this moment.

Suddenly, Matt gently grasps your chin, using his fingers and thumb to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. 

“Hey, if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you back out to the back right now,” Matt tells you, his tone sincere and honest. “Just say the word and we’ll leave — I’ll take you back to your friend and even call a cab for you to go home if you don’t want to stay.”

“That’s the thing…” You pause, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you grapple with your inner turmoil. “I do want to stay. You’re… you’re interesting.”

“Me? I’m interesting?” Matt can’t help but chuckle, a grin spreading across his face. “Sweetheart, it’s actually you that interested me. You caught my attention the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve never seen you around before, and yet you make me feel like I’m goin’ crazy. I just—” He stops, voice huskier as he stares at you. “I want you so bad. I want to play with you.”

“Play?”

“Will you let me play with you?” Matt asks you sweetly despite the dark look in his eyes. “I can make you feel good… wanna make that pretty pussy of yours ready for me.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod your head, “Okay.”

You gasp as Matt instantly turns you around, your back now pressed to his chest with his lips grazing across your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the skin as his hands slowly slide down the strap of your purse, letting it drop to the floor with a thump.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest as his tentative touch, trying your best to steady your breathing as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing your sides as he lifts the shirt up, bringing it over your head and letting it pool to the floor.

Matt’s teeth snag at your earlobe and you crane your head to the side, allowing him to nip and suck at the area as much as he pleases, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. He pushes his hips forward, his bulge rutting against your lower back while his hands come down to rest at your hips.

You fight the urge to laugh when you feel his fingers drum a beat on your skin, a similar pattern to the one that was playing earlier when he was on stage performing, but the urge to laugh soon disappears when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your knees almost buckling from shock if it wasn’t for the grip he tightened around you. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sensitive,” Matt murmurs against your skin, his tongue flattening over the area he bit down on. “Are you sensitive in other places too?”

“Matt…” You whisper his name when you feel his blunt fingernails dig into your hips to turn you around, his nose brushing over your own before he leans in to push his lips to yours for the first time.

The kiss is soft at first—a few second lip lock that causes your body to tingle with nerves that soon slip away when you feel the intensity grow, and your hands slide around his shoulders while his come up to cup the sides of your neck, his head tilting to the side as his tongue parts your lips.

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck to bring him as close to you as possible, and Matt follows, his body flush against yours with his hands secure around your neck, taking control of the passionate and heated kiss. 

It makes your head spin and lungs burn—desperate for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to part away from him so soon. His kiss is intoxicating. 

Matt breaks away from the kiss as he pants, “Need you–need you to—” He cuts himself off only to reconnect your lips, unable to finish his sentence until he has to force himself back. “Fuck—I need you to lie down f’me.”

You immediately drop down to the carpet with no further questions, not daring to lay across the sofa after seeing the underwear one of Chris’s girls had left behind on the arm of it. 

Matt drops down carefully to sit at your waist, his knees planted on either side of your hips. You watch as he takes off his oversized graphic shirt, messing up his hair even more than it already was as it’s tugged over his head.

You’re in complete awe at his body, your hands reaching out to trace the happy trail that leads down to his jeans, making your mouth water.

His horse chained necklace glides across your skin when he leans down to litter kisses across your body, paying extra attention to your breasts that he’s eager to rip free from your bra—he doesn’t even apologise once he tears the material.

Your head tips back with a gasp as his tongue rolls over your pebbled nipple before it’s sucked into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud which elicits a moan from you, unable to control the subtle twitches of your body.

“Pretty—fuckin’ pretty…” Matt praises, his tongue swirling around the opposite nipple as his fingers knead the plush skin of the other. “You’re so sensitive. So easy to play with.”

“Matt—”

“Shhh, sweetheart…” Matt shushes you as you moan a little too loudly, peering up at you through hooded lids as he pulls your jeans and panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere to the side as he pries open your thighs, his gaze flitting down to your glistening folds.

Your heart races as he stares at your pussy, feeling shy and too exposed. You debate on closing your legs so he couldn’t look anymore, or telling him to hurry up so you don’t feel hot under his gaze.

Matt moves down to lay between your legs, his mouth trailing kisses over the skin of your inner thighs. You almost lose yourself as his tongue presses between your folds, his nose rubbing against your throbbing clit that’s been begging for his attention.

“Matt…” You whisper out his name pathetically, your back arching off of the floor as his hands join, two fingers pushing through your entrance and curling, drawing out a long moan from you.

He’s sloppy with his tongue, licking you in all the right places that has your toes curling over his shoulders, and his fingers that fuck into you has you wailing. You’re loud now — too loud to the point Matt’s free hand moves up your body to press over your mouth, keeping your noises muffled by the palm of his hand.

Your cunt clenches around Matt’s fingers in desperation, and the vibrations of his satisfied hums sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure bliss, unable to watch the mess of hair between your legs no more.

His fingers stroke your gummy walls, the cold metal of his rings (that he really should’ve taken off) sends shivers down your spine.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Matt compliments before his lips wrap around your clit, and you moan beneath his palm, your thighs shaking on either side of his head as he fingers you faster and harder — the wet, sloppy sounds of your cunt making you want to curl up in embarrassment, but your orgasm is rapidly approaching and you want nothing more than to come undone around his fingers. 

He repeatedly whispers praises and compliments as he continues his ministrations through your orgasm; his nose nudging your little bundle of nerves, leaving messy and sloppy kisses on your cunt, and his fingers curling to graze against the spot deep within which is enough to make you tear up, becoming far too sensitive.

You’re pushing him back with your foot, and Matt chuckles as he finally lets you go. He moves to kneel between your legs that have fallen from his shoulders, and he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath.

“Doin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” Your heart warms at Matt’s praise, and you peel your eyes open just in time to see him bring his two fingers to his mouth, covered in your arousal. He keeps eye contact with you as he pushes the digits past his lips to suck them clear, and you find the sight unbelievably attractive. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop! before his hands drop down to the belt on his jeans, unbuckling with one hand and pulling it through the loops. He’s quick to get rid of the rest of his clothing, moving them out of the way with a hard shove so it wouldn’t cause any interruptions between you both.

Matt’s hand locks around your wrist to tug you upwards, forcing you to sit up, and your forehead almost knocks against his chest from the force.

His head dips low to kiss your lips softly before he orders you to turn around — to get on your hands and knees in front of him. You do as you’re told without question, flipping around onto your knees with your ass in the air and face resting against the plush carpet. 

“Shiiit… wish you could see yourself from this angle.” Matt curses, his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass, giving the skin a few hefty slaps. He moves forward on his knees, and his fingers wrap around his cock to tap the head against your puffy folds, collecting your arousal with a low groan.

“Please, Matt… Please.” You manage to pathetically plead out, and Matt nods with a hum. His tongue licks across his bottom lip before tucking it between his teeth, watching as he pushes his thick tip into your cunt.

Your eyes widen at the stretch—the burn—fully understanding how big he is even without seeing it for yourself. He stops for a few seconds to let out a shaky exhale, his hands rubbing at your hips as he feels you tremble beneath him. It sounds like he’s mocking you, but you pay no attention as you wiggle your ass back onto him, begging for him to move.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Matt hisses through gritted teeth at the go ahead, and he moves his hand from your hips to your lower back, thrusting forward to push himself in deeper, bottoming out completely. 

A choked gasp rips from the back of your throat, your nails scraping across the carpet in search of anything to grasp onto to keep yourself grounded as Matt’s hips press against your ass, his cock buried deep within the warm of your walls. He’s panting while you’re unable to make a noise, mouth stuck open wide as Matt pulls his hips back before rolling them forward, thrusting back into you.

His deep strokes have you struggling to speak, wanting to let him know how good it feels as he’s angling his hips, hitting a particular spot inside of you that has you squealing, almost sending you flying forwards if it wasn’t for his grip.

“Easy, girl. I got you,” Matt laughs between grunts, his hips slapping against your ass. “Am I makin’ you feel good?”

“S’good.” Your words slur, mind too blank to come up with a functioning sentence. He laughs again before finding a good rhythm to work with—a rhythm that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, moving too fast for you to register.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight cunt of yours—fill you up. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make a fuckin’ mess.” The way his tone sounds and how he rambles his words indicate how close he is to cumming, and you’re not far behind.

You wish you could move back against him. You wish you could do more than just bend over with your ass in the air and take what he gives you. You want to make him feel good too, but you struggle to find your strength and your mind is too clouded with lust and pleasure to even begin to move.

You’re stuck as a moaning mess for Matt to use — not that you’re complaining.

The only thing you can do is tighten your cunt around his cock in hopes it will do something to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel, and he gives you one big thrust before he stills, his cock pumping long spurts of cum deep within your pussy as he hits his climax.

The feeling alone sets you off into your last orgasm of the night, your body tingling at the warmth that spreads through you. He’s panting heavily behind you, slowly rolling his hips to ride it out, and he grins when he feels your body convulsing.

Matt takes his time pulling out of you, stroking your lower back tenderly. Once you’re free, your body flops down to the carpet, the air knocking out of your lungs from the harsh impact, leaving you gasping for air as you try to regulate your erratic breathing.

You grimace a little when you feel Matt’s cum drip out of your pussy, making a sticky mess between your thighs and the carpet below you, knowing you’ll definitely have to go home after this and shower.

Mustering up enough of your strength, you try to turn your head to peer over your shoulder to see if Matt is okay, but a gasp fleets past your lips and your body stills when you feel Matt’s hands run up the backs of your thighs and to your ass, kneading your asscheeks before pulling them apart.

He leans down, leaving a kiss on your leaking pussy from behind. “Thank you for lettin’ me play with you.”

© sturnioz

[abbyslev]

crazy- toji fushiguro x reader

SFW

a/n: if you guys want a part two i’ll be so down to do it!! love this sm. don’t mind any spelling errors, i’m tipsy writing this lolol

toji would curse shiu as long as he lived. bringing him to a bar? this fancy? one drink was over $13.

“how much longer of this crap?” toji stared down at shiu, fixing his rented suit. it was last minute, and though it fit him, he wasn’t used to wearing fancy crap like this. “it’s common courtesy to let the show finish before we socialize, fushiguro.” shiu teased, smoking his cigarette.

shiu had to meet up with some higher ups, dragging toji along since he’d be doing the real dirty work. toji denied at first, as this bar was meant for crazy rich people who had nothing better to do.

his eyes met the stage, where a beautiful woman in a black, skin tight gown held into a mic, singing. her beautiful, deep voice rang in his ears. he could give less shits about the music, but more so the woman amongst him. your long, beautiful curled hair. the smokey eye that made your beautiful eyes glint in the dim light, the used ashtray on the stool beside you, the red manicured nails, everything about you made him crazy.

“don’t eat her with your eyes, fushiguro.” shiu chuckled. “who’s she?” toji didn’t dare to move his eyes from you. “don’t know her name, but she’s a real eye candy. she’s here every weekend. real charming voice, too.” shiu lit a second cigarette. “go offer her a drink.” he added.

-

not long after you, another woman joined the stage. after a few quiet “thank you’s.” and polite bows, you left the stage.

toji had lost you in the crowd for a moment. he stood up, fixing his suit. “going to find her?” shiu smirked. “shut it, asshole.” toji huffed, making his way to the bar. he felt out of place, such a strong tall man, a serial killer, a gambler, mixed in with rich assholes who’d spit on him if they knew what he did and where he had come from.

“one yamazaki shot, please!” you waved down your favorite bartender. “make that two.” toji appeared from behind you. you turned around, eyes meeting the tall man’s eyes. you were used to men buying you drinks, trying to talk to you, even trying to slip money in your top. but for some reason, this man gave you a new feeling.

toji pulled out a stool for you, taking your hand as he helped you up. he took the chair next to you, watching as you took down your shot. he did the same, keeping his face from twisting up. expensive definitely doesn’t mean good.

“my names fushiguro. what’s yours?” “kamodo.” oh, rich family. of course. “no, not that kamodo. i couldn’t even dream of being part of that family.” you laugh as you see his eyes widen at your surname. “i was about to say.” toji smiled. “you have a beautiful voice, doll.” he complimented. “thank you, i appreciate you.” you giggle, setting your hands in your lap.

“i took you more of a vodka girl, maybe even sake. but whiskey?” he flirts, eyes your beautiful features. “what can i say? stuff gets boring around here, but expensive doesn’t mean good.” you look up at the colorful bar. “took two words right out of my mouth.”

“you from here?” he tilted his head. “no, i’m from tokyo, but business brought me down here.” sorcerer business. not that you were in it anymore. truth is, you came from the rich side of the sorcerer family, but the other half of your family was just a rich surname who lived normal lives. so, rich in both worlds. you hated saying it. you dropped sorcery after your sister had died from it. you were done protecting people.

“and you?” “i just float around, not really sure what i’m doing here tonight.” toji shrugged. “your buddy brought you here?” you looked at shiu, who was shaking a man’s hand. you order another round, slipping a cigarette from a golden case in your purse. “want one?” “i don’t smoke.” he shook his head. he took down the shot, watching as you did the same.

“gentlemen, aye?” “just looking out for myself.” “smart. your buddy over there, i wonder how many packs he goes through.” you inhale the warm air, exhaling into the air. toji stared at your collarbones, his imagination running wild.

“he doesn’t give a shit about his health.” “who does? i mean, we are at bar.” you laugh. you heel bumped his leg. both of you ignored it, continuing your conversation.

after plenty more shots and many cigarettes, you two were interrupted by tojis cellphone. “sorry, have to answer this.” he shook his head. you waved him off, stretching your back. it was mostly hushed whispers. “i’ll be home in an hour, the latest, just make sure he goes to bed, alright? and tell him to put them up.” toji hung up the phone, shaking his head.

“what? your kids being bad or something?” you laughed jokingly. “yeah, little brats being bad.” he put his phone up. “wait, you have kids?”

oh, how he fucked up.

why would a young woman like you ever get with a man with kids? he wasn’t ashamed of them, he was afraid of scaring you away. looking like a whore.

“yeah, two. ones from my wife’s previous marriage.” “you have a wife?” god, he just couldn’t make it worse, could he? “sorry, i have a bad habit of calling her my wife. she passed away a couple years ago during my sons birth. just so used to calling her that.” he gave up, just spitting out the truth.

“oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to overstep.” “no, i made it sound like i was an unfaithful man. i promise i’m not.” he mumbled. “it’s okay, i believe you. i know a lot of these men are cheaters. but you seem like an honest guy.” you gave him a smile.

“what are you waiting for?” you lean forward. “huh?” he snapped out of his trance. “show me those little shits! i wanna see!” you nudge his elbow. he felt a weight come off his chest. he scooted closer to you, opening his gallery. it was full of pictures of the two.

“this is tsumiki, and this is megumi.” “blessing.” you murmur. “yeah, i named him.” “he looks just like you.” you smile. “this is him on his first day of school.” he swiped to see a very snotty kid, looking like he could kick some ass. he swiped, showing megumi with a black and white dog. you recognized them. shikigami.

he was a sorcerer. toji kept rambling, assuming you had no idea what a curse was. or a sorcerer, or anything of that matter. you finally notice the man soften up.

“hey you two, time to wrap it up.” you hear a loud clap. shiu had his hand on tojis shoulder, pulling him off the stool. “oh, don’t be so cruel to the man.” you giggle. “it’s time for me to get goin, i promised those brats i’d be home earlier.” he helped you down from your chair. “hold on.” you dug in your purse, before pulling out a black pen.

you take his hand, feeling him stiffen. you wrote your number on the back of his hand, writing your full name under. he softened up after he watched what you were doing. you took his face, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll see you around, fushiguro. and tell those brats i said hey.” you waved at him, disappearing in the back.

“got yourself a date?” shiu teased. “yeah, i guess i do.”

[mrkis]

punk 00. (l.jn)

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader GENRE: smut, fluff WORD COUNT: 10.3k

SYNOPSIS: you've caught the attention of a certain pink haired drummer boy that's desperate to get you alone with him.

CONTENT WARNINGS: punk pink haired jeno, jeno's kind of an asshole to readers best friend, light mention of drugs, kissing, light biting, unprotected sex, backstage sex, fingering, oral (receiving), big dick jeno, dirty talk, praising, creampie,

AUTHORS NOTE: i was gratefully informed by a anon that i read the word count wrong LMAO (my dumb ass read the character count instead of the word count). lowkey relieved that this shit wasn't as long as i thought it was but also embarrassed? but we move. happy you're all enjoying it :)

Despite his love for blending in with the crowd and remaining mysterious, with the pink hair that tousles on the top of his head, the black eyeliner that smudges the corner of his eyes and with the same two-coloured clothing that drowns his body… Jeno is nothing but the sort. 

Jeno, admittedly, stuck out like a sore thumb. 

It wasn’t exactly his fault. He loves dying his hair crazy colours, wearing clothes ten times bigger than his usual and heavy boots that stomps across any surface he walks on. He loves filling in his waterline in black eyeliner and decorating his outfit with fancy jewellery that matched the jewellery on his face. Painting his nails is another favourite of his too, although the black chipped flames was his current go-to. 

It doesn’t help the fact that Jeno was in a band alongside his best friends. The band wasn’t huge, per se, but they play almost every weekend at a popular bar in their hometown, attracting a crowd over 100+ people that try their best to cram themselves in said bar just to see said band whenever they manage to get a gig. 

So maybe it is his fault. But he never expected the attention it would get him, eyes ogling at him from every direction, hushed whispers thrown his way, compliments upon compliments filling his dms and even said to him in person. He secretly loved the attention, but he was never the one to make a move when girls threw themselves at him, hinting for a quick fuck or even a relationship. He just wasn’t interested, nobody has ever caught his attention.

That was until he saw you at one of his band's gigs, sitting in a booth with a friend and sipping on a coke through a straw with your eyes taking in your, what seems to be, unfamiliar surroundings. He was captivated by your presence, wanting nothing more than to gather the courage to walk on over and strike a conversation with you, to know more about you.

“Staring makes you look creepy” Jeno’s eyes immediately rip from your form to his bandmate, Donghyuck, who’s hardly even glancing Jeno’s way, attention focussing on his reflection in the mirror backdrop behind the bar, standing on the tip of his toes to look over the rows of alcohol to catch a better glimpse of himself as he tries to restyle his dyed purple locks, the sweat on his forehead making his bangs stick. “Go talk to her. Work that so-called ‘Jeno charm’ I hear Jaemin talking about”

“It’s real, alright?” A flash of orange appears in front of Jeno’s vision as Jaemin throws himself down in the seat beside him, slamming a tray of multicoloured shots on the table and spilling half of its contents which leaves the bartender cursing under his breath, wiping the mess away while glaring at the latter who cheekily smiles his way out of any sort of confrontation. “I’ve seen it before and it works like magic… makes the people drop to their knees in an instant”

Donghyuck’s brow raises in amusement with a teasing grin, “In the year I’ve known Jeno, I’ve never seen him hookup or flirt with anyone… got some problems going on down there, huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up” Jeno grumbles at the jab, swatting Donghyuck hand away as he tries to reach out and pat his cheek. Donghyuck cackles at this and grabs the shot that Jaemin eagerly hands out to the pair before calling out Renjun’s name who emerges from backstage, adjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders as he settles himself down beside Jaemin.

Jaemin hums as he tugs the collar down of Renjun’s shirt, “Nice marks. Was it Thing 1 or Thing 2 this time?”

“Hyejin” Renjun answers, but the blank look Jaemin gives him makes Renjun close his eyes in annoyance. “Thing 1”

“I thought Thing 1 was Yejin?” Donghyuck pulls a face and Renjun’s quick to jump to Hyejin’s defence about how she’s number one but Jeno blanks out the conversation, rolling his eyes as he picks up the shot and downs it quickly before bringing his beer bottle up to his lips, craning his neck to take a look over at you once again. He captures you smiling at your friend this time, nodding to something she says and clinking your simple glass of coke to her colour cocktail.

He’s, undoubtedly, interested in you which is new and foregin to Jeno. He’s not scared or nervous and he really would walk on over to you to begin a conversation if it wasn’t for the fact you weren’t alone. Jeno wanted to get rid of your friend and have you all to himself, but he found it difficult seeing as your friend refused to leave your side all night.

Jeno huffs with a shake of his head, gulping down his beer and slamming the empty bottle against the bar countertop as he orders another. He’ll just have to wait for the right moment. 

“I think he’s staring at me” Eunkyung whispers at you across the booth, straightening her posture and running her fingers through her hair, fixing any hairs that strayed out of place as she takes a quick glance at herself in her phone screen. “How do I look? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“You look fine” You reassure her with a quick nod of your head, sipping your coke through the plastic straw with your brows pulling together in curiosity as you watch her fuss about with her outfit, pulling the top half of her dress lower to show more cleavage. “Who’s staring at you?”

“The pink haired guy sitting at the bar behind yo—Hey!!! Don’t be so obvious!!!” You ignore Eunkyung’s feeble attempts at trying to bring your focus back to her, easily spotting the pink haired man that sits at the bar with his other brightly hair coloured friends. You snort at the sight, but your brows pull together with confusion as his attention is elsewhere, not on your friend. You slowly turn back around to face Eunkyung who’s shoulders drop in defeat. “He was staring, okay? He turned as soon as you did”

“I believe you” You tell her, getting comfortable in your seat as you observe the way she takes quick glances behind you, tucking a strand of her behind her ears and holding her head high. “Who is he anyways?”

“You’re kidding” Eunkyung baffles, eyes wide. She takes offence when you shake your head. “It’s Jeno. We see him on campus, like, everyday!! He’s the reason why we’re here tonight—”

You frown at that, “I thought you wanted to hangout?”

“I do!!” Eunkyung sheepishly says with a quick nod and you’re less than impressed. She sighs heavily. “Listen, Jeno is one of the members in that band that performed earlier and I haven’t been able to have much free time to see them play. On top of that, we haven’t hung out in a while and this was the only weekend we seemed to have free time so I am basically hitting two birds with one stone here… can you really blame me?”

“I guess not” You sigh, even though you’re not impressed with what was going on here. You felt a little bit used and lied too, especially when she burst through your dorm room earlier and rambled excitedly about how she’s able to spend some time with you tonight. 

Your mood turns a little bit sour when it dawns on you that you’ll most definitely be trekking back to your dorm room alone tonight, knowing that she’ll blow off staying over to go blow off some other guy, literally. You wish you were the type of person to be selfish, to tell her that you’re not exactly happy with her possibly leaving you to go fuck some other guy and beg her to stay with you all night, to catchup on everything that was missed, to go home together with a takeout bag full of junk food and watch a shitty old movie on your small laptop screen.

But you weren't selfish. You have never been selfish. 

“I really need to go pee” Eunkyung announces, her face twisting in discomfort as she pushes her empty cocktail glass across the table and awkwardly shuffles out of the booth. She picks up her handbag and rummages through quickly, retrieving her purse and shoving it in your hands. “Go get us another drink—No more cokes for you either!!!”

You don’t even get a chance to say anything as Eunkyung waddles away in a rush towards the toilets and you push yourself out of the booth with a huff, clutching her purse tightly in your grasp as you manoeuvre through the crowds of people that block the bar, too busy with their conversations to even make room for anyone else. 

You grip Eunkyung’s purse in your hand tightly as you manage to reach the bar, watching as the bartender leans across the wooden surface to chat up some customers with a flirtatious smile on the other side. You debate on returning back to your booth and waiting for Eunkyung to come so she can work her charm and capture his attention for some drinks but you decide against it with a sigh, lifting yourself up on the vacant barstool and sitting comfortably, too focused on the bartender and his cheesy pickup lines on the customers on your right that you’re completely unaware of who is sitting on your left.

Jeno struggles to contain himself when he feels you slightly brush against his shoulder to sit yourself down in the empty chair beside him, staring over at Doyoung in a hopeful attempt to get served by him but Jeno knows the bartender all to well. Nobody gets served when Doyoung has found a target to flirt with.

This, possibly, could be Jeno’s chance to finally talk to you, to engage in that conversation that he’s been dying to do since he first laid eyes on you, but the words get stuck in the back of his throat and he struggles to actually face you, especially when he can see the others mocking him in the corner of his eyes.

Donghyuck makes obnoxious kissing noises that makes Jeno’s head snap in his direction, but Donghyuck doesn’t back down from the teasing as he nudges his shoulder. 

“Come on. Let us see you work that Jeno Magic” The wiggle of Donghyuck’s eyebrows makes Jeno want to fight, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has around his beer bottle and Donghyuck’s quick to throw his hands up in defence. “I just want to see you get laid, man”

“I hate to admit it, but Donghyuck’s right” Renjun nods his head, eyes flickering between Jeno and you, who is still wrapped up in your own head to hear the conversation that’s going on. It surprises him immensely. “You’ve got all these girls practically begging at your feet for a quick fuck and you’re still refusing to give in?”

“Maybe Jeno does have some problems going on down there…” Donghyuck says as he stares down at Jeno’s crotch, tilting his head to the side as he bravely reaches forward to drag his finger over the bugle in his pants. Jeno rolls his eyes at his actions, but doesn’t bother to swat Donghyuck’s hand away as he’s used to this type of behaviour. Donghyuck hums, “Maybe not. Still big even when soft, impressive”

“That was just an excuse to cop a feel” Jaemin scoffs, pushing Donghyuck who stumbles back slightly and grips onto the bar for support. He goes to retaliate, raising his fist to pummel it down on Jaemin’s back but the latter is quick to dodge. “Look, as much as I would love for you to fuck someones brains out, it’s all on your terms. Don’t let these freaks peer pressure you into doing shit”

Jeno doesn’t feel pressured, not one bit. All he wants right now is for his friends to move along and go chat up some girls so he can finally be alone with you, as you are no longer with your friend either. It would be the perfect opportunity, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the others making grand gestures and butting into the conversation and possibly making things worse when he’s talking to you.

Jaemin seems to read his mind perfectly, throwing his arms around Renjun and Donghyuck’s shoulders and dripping the material of their leather jackets to grab their attention, pulling them away but not straying too far from the bar as they still have their endless amount of drinks and shots lined out for them.

It wasn’t perfect, but it will do. Jeno thinks to himself, gently tugging on the jewellery that dangles from his earlobe as he finally turns to face you, just in time for Doyoung to finish his flirting.

“Sorry about that” The bartender apologies to you with a faint chuckle as he finally makes his way on over, running his fingers through his dark hair and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before resting his hands on his hips, giving you a full view of his all black sleeveless shirt that's tucked into a pair of black jeans. You are now able to see his white name tag that stands out on the outfit. Doyoung, it reads. “What can I get for you, sweetheart?”

“Uhh…” You hesitate for a moment, unable to remember the name of the cocktail that Eunkyung had been buying herself as you scan the drinks menu above his head. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you weakly point at the bottom of the list, the most cheapest of ones. “I guess the d—”

“Can I have my usual, a cosmopolitan and a coke?” A voice beside you butts in for his own order, completely disregarding yours and your brows pull together in annoyance, spinning around in his directions to grill into him for his complete rudeness but the insults die down in the back of your throat once you realise who exactly spoke before you. 

The mess of pink hair is the first feature you see and you immediately know who is sitting beside you. The guy that Eunkyung has been non-stop talking about and has been so fascinated with these past couple of months, the main topic of tonight's conversation and your eyebrows can’t help but raise in slight shock. You’re beginning to see the appeal… Jeno’s really pretty up close. 

To be fair, you have never been this close to Jeno before, so you’ve never had the chance to give him a full one-over. You’re passed him a few times before, but he didn’t capture your attention to the point you would be one of those that would ogle at him from across the room or even on campus grounds. Yet standing as near as you are to him, you can’t help but really look at him and take in every little detail you can find. 

The smudged eyeliner and black eyeshadow makes his eyes seem a little intimidating that what they’re probably are, but the dark look itself makes you sink back into your seat. Due to the close proximity, you notice the little hole on the side of his nostril and it makes you wonder if that’s where a nose piercing once was, the redness around the area giving you a slight inkling that maybe he tried piercing it himself sometime this week or even today.

“That’s what you’re both drinking, right? Cosmopolitan for your friend and a coke for you?” Jeno’s questions bring you out of your staring as he shifts around in his seat to face you fully, the chains on his black and pink outfit jingling with every movement he’s making. He taps his nails against the bar as awaits for your answer and that’s when you notice the black flamed nail art that decorates his fingernails, some being more chipped than others but you can’t deny the fact it suits his appearance perfectly. 

“Yes” You answer quickly, realising you’ve been quiet for far too long. “Yeah, I think so…” You pause for a second, face twisting in confusion as you glance between him and the cocktail that’s being made. “How did you know she ordered a cosmopolitan?”

The corner of Jeno’s lip twitch upwards lightly in amusement with a light hearted laugh as he looks at you, “I didn’t”

“Here you go, gorgeous” Doyoung compliments as he slides the cocktail and the coke glass in your direction with precise aim, not even spilling any of the contents inside. He settles the beer bottle in front of Jeno. “That will be—”

“Wait, Can I get another one of those?” You ask as you point at the pink coloured concoction in front of you and Doyoung sends a wink your way as he turns on the heel of his feet to go make the drink and you turn to look at Jeno who’s already looking at you with his brow raised and you suddenly feel the need to explain yourself. “It’s for me”

“Had enough of the cokes?”

“Not exactly… She just told me not to get another one” You say, looking down at the full glass of coke in front of you with pursed lips. “But I’ll still take this, just in case I don’t like the cocktail”

Jeno grins at that, reaching for the beer bottle with one hand while his other reaches inside his pocket as soon as Doyoung comes back with your newly made drink. He gives you the price and your eyes almost bulge out at the numbers, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you tell him you’ll pay by card. Eunkyung is going to kill you when she finds out about the cost, it makes you grimace just thinking about the consequences as you dig through her purse but the sound of beeping brings you out of your search, lifting your head up to see Jeno with his arm outstretched, own bank card in hand and pressed against the card reader. 

Did he just? Your mouth opens and closes in shock, unable to grasp onto what just happened even though it was the most simplest thing in the world. Doyoung’s giving Jeno a look with a smirk, tongue poking at his cheek as he shoves the card reader back beneath the bar, fluttering his fingers at you for a quick goodbye as he serves another customer. You briefly hear him compliment her hair but you pay him no attention as you’re meeting eyes with Jeno who seems nonchalant at the thought of paying for all your pricey drinks.

“You didn’t have to do that” You tell him. “I had the money, I—”

“I know, but I wanted to” Jeno smiles prettily at you, taking a sip of his beer without taking his eyes off of you. “I’ve never seen you in this bar before, so think of it as a ‘welcome’ gift. From me to you”

“Thank you” You thank him, heart warming at the gift. Jeno nods his head, reaching over to gently clink his beer against one of your drinks before taking a sip. You do the same, feeling obliged too, bringing the reddish pink cocktail to your lips and the second the liquid touches your taste buds, your face turns sour at the unusual taste that hits your tongue. You place the cocktail back down on the bar to grab your coke, washing down the taste with something nicer and Jeno’s lips curl into an amused smile, a quiet laugh leaving him.

“Don’t like it?”

“It’s unusual” You admit, awkwardly laughing as you rub the back of your neck. You feel slightly embarrassed at pulling the least attractive face and not enjoying a drink that he bought out of his money. “But, it’s still a gift so I’ll just endure it”

“You don’t have to drink that” Jeno shakes his head, the amusement still sparkling in his eyes as he reaches for his credit card. “Here, let me buy you another—”

“No!” You immediately stop him, not wanting him to spend any more of his money on buying you expensive drinks. Jeno seems surprised at your sudden burst, reeling his hand back into his lap and you almost cringe away from your tone. “I will drink it”

“Yeah?” His eyes dart down to the cocktail at the bar before back up at you, tilting his head to he side teasingly with a smirk. “Are you sure about that?”

Your heart thumps at the sight, his dark eyes staring up at you with a look you’re unfamiliar with, and you nod your head pathetically as you mutter, “Very”

“Damn, was there a queue at the bar or something? You took so long” Eunkyung frowns as soon as you finally arrive back at your shared booth with cocktail drinks in hand, tongue poking out in pure concentration as you try your best not to spill its contents. Eunkyung, thankfully, takes one out of your hands, “Thanks! Did you not use my card? I didn’t get the notification on my phone that my card was being—did you get us a cosmopolitan?! Do you realise how expensive these things are here?!”

“Relax, I didn’t buy these” You tell her as you comfortably settle yourself down opposite her, sliding her purse across the booth. She’s silent as she stares at you with confusion and you take this as a sign to explain yourself further, “Courtesy of your favourite pink haired drummer boy”

“Jeno bought me a drink?” The look that plasters across her face is priceless and you bite back the urge to add on how he bought your drink too, but you let her live in her moment a little while longer as you nod your head, watching as she takes in this information with wide excited eyes. “Oh my god… He totally likes me, I fucking knew it. Did he say anything?!”

“About what?” You ask, brows pulling together and Eunkyung points at herself dramatically. “Oh, not really… We were just talking about alcohol, you know, considering we were both standing at a bar”

Eunkyung sighs dreamily, “My type of guy”

“Yeah, he seems interesting” You find yourself agreeing, pressing your lips firmly together as you glance over your shoulder in a somewhat hopeful manner that you’ll see Jeno still at the bar, sipping his beer or maybe even watching you both from afar.

Truth be told, you have no idea why you are even suddenly hoping for him to be watching. You’ve never spoken before until today, you don’t know him that well and the first interaction you both had was small and quick. But it seems to leave such a huge impact on you that you’re now wishing for something more. Was it something more you even wanted?

You couldn’t explain this sudden wanting feeling or fascination regarding Jeno, and the heavy weight resting on your chest when you see that he isn’t even at the bar anymore makes you feel uncomfortable, out of character… you’ve never been like this before. So why now? Why all of a sudden?

“What are you thinking about over there?” Eunkyung’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head back in her direction, quickly shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head to silently tell her that it was nothing, but she doesn’t seem convinced, not when she’s staring straight at you with a suspicious look in her eyes. “I don’t believe you”

“I’m not—”

“You were staring over at the bar” Eunkyung points out before she decides to look over herself, lips pursing in deep thought as she scans the surroundings and she smiles immediately. “Are you looking over at Doyoung? The bartender?”

“I—”

“You should go for it. I heard he gives really good head and honestly, no offence, you need it. He could definitely loosen you up and give you a good time tonight”

Your brow raises in suspicion, “Are you saying that because it’s the truth or is it because you’ll feel bad that I’d have to walk home alone while you’re getting laid later?”

“Both” She sends you a sly wink, clinking her cocktail to yours before taking a drink. You sigh softly with a roll of your eyes, reaching for your own cocktail until your hand falters slightly. You really didn’t like this cocktail and it pains you when it dawns on you that you left your coke at the bar that’s now nowhere in sight, probably been taken by another customer that got excited over a free drink. You have nothing to wash this disgusting taste down with, but you promised him that you’d drink it. It was a gift after all. 

You start to consider acting a little over dramatic and plug your nose to not taste the flavour, maybe even rummage through your own bag for some leftover gum that you know is pooling at the bottom somewhere  but you decide to suck it up, to drink it without making a fuss. 

Before you could even pick up your glass, another is placed down in front of you, filled to the brim with bubbly coke and paired with a red plastic straw which faces towards you. Eunkyung’s the first to respond to this stranger, covering her mouth to cough as she chokes on her drink, eyes strained and watery. You glance over at her, to make sure she’s okay before you turn your head to look up at the person who’s brought over the new drink and you’re slightly taken back when you see Jeno standing there, smiling as he stares down at you.

“You forgot your drink at the bar” He tells you, voice low and teasing. His eyes dip down to the cocktail in your hands, brow raised. “Are you still sure you’re going to drink that?”

“I was going to” Your voice comes out in a whisper but Jeno’s already taking the alcohol out of your hands and replacing it with the coke. He holds the stem of the glass in between his fingers, eyeing the bright coloured drink before mindlessly sliding it over to Eunkhyung who’s still speechless about the man that’s standing in front of her, but she grasps her new drink in hand, pulling it close to her chest as if that was the most meaningful thing anyone has ever bought her. 

“Enjoy your drink” He whispers to you and before he even thinks about disappearing, you’re calling out his name. You’re unsure of why you’re beckoning him to come back. Maybe it was you refusing to let him go so quickly, to let yourself crave into the fascination that has grown within you, or maybe it was because you can see the look on Eunkyung’s face due to his close proximity, the gears turning in her head to try and figure out how to start a conversation with him, to finally flirt with him.

You’re a good friend to Eunkyung, you always have been.

“Do you want to join us?” You offer with a friendly smile, gesturing to the empty seat opposite you and beside Eunkyung. “You’re welcome to come sit with us and hang out… unless you have somewhere else to be?”

Jeno’s quiet for a moment, eyes darting around the bar as if he was searching for something but he nods his head, taking you up on your kind offer. Eunkyung’s beaming with excitement as she shuffles for extra space on her side of the booth, removing her bag from the space for him to sit down but you let out a huff as Jeno’s shoulder knocks against yours when he settles in the small space next to you.

He apologises, lifting up a hand to rub at the forming sore spot on your shoulder gently and you’re glued in your seat, sandwiched between a wooden barrier and Jeno’s body. The heat that radiates off him comforts you immensely but you try not to pay too much attention to it, not when you see Eunkyung staring at the two of you with a slight pout on her lips, but it soon wipes away and is replaced with a grin.

“Thank you for paying for the drinks, by the way” She gestures to her cocktail in front of her. “I’m getting your next one as a thank you”

“I appreciate that” His head dips low in gratitude, taking a quick sip of his beer and Eunkyung watches carefully, brows furring as she tilts her head, trying to read the label from her seat and Jeno notices this as he almost comically slowly turns the bottle in her direction. “It’s new. Doyoung got it delivered today… Me and the boys have been drinking this all night”

“Fire Alarm? Doyoung got a drink named after one of your band's songs?” Eunkyung teases and Jeno simply nods his head. You fight the urge to snort at that, finding it a little amusing that they got an alcoholic beverage named after them.

“You should try it” Jeno nudges you gently, offering you a taste. You go to decline, to shake your head and say you’re fine with the coke but the smirk that dances across his lips is enough to slowly change your mind. “You might like this better than the cocktail… I could see you being a beer girl”

“A beer girl?” You chuckle, but you question no further when you take the beer in your hands for a sip. You are hesitant on the taste that hits your tongue, rubbing your lips together firmly as the pair watch you, waiting for your honest opinion. You swallow thickly, but you’re pleasantly surprised. “It doesn’t taste like beer. It’s actually pretty sweet”

Jeno hums, agreeing with you. “It’s good, right?” 

“Let me try” Eunkyung reaches out and you happily hand over the drink but you realise your mistake, turning to Jeno with wide eyes as it dawns on you that you’re sharing around his drink. He’s smiling at you when you already look at him and you want to apologise but Eunkyung’s already sliding the drink back into his grasp with a satisfied hum. “I like it too!”

“That can be the next round of drinks then” He says, eyes briefly glancing down at Eunkyung’s purse beside her. Eunkyung’s smile falters for a moment as it dawns on her that she was the one that offered to buy him his next drink, internally thinking about the dent these drinks are going to put on her bank card but she musters up another smile, nodding her head excitedly at the thought of buying Jeno something.

“You don’t have to buy the next drink” You come to her aid, your hand slipping into your own purse that's tucked in your side. “We can go in halves—”

“Don’t offend me like that” Eunkyung jokes with a flip of her hair over her shoulder. “I have the money. I’ll get us the next round”

You wince at that, unconvinced. “You sure?”

“Totally” She smirks, turning to face Jeno who’s quietly sipping his beer. “Your set earlier was incredible… You and your band are so—”

“DID SOMEBODY SAY SHOTS?!?” An unfamiliar voice screeches at the top of their lungs as a tray full of multicoloured shots messily thrown on the table in front of you all, some shots spilling over but a hand is quick to recover them despite half of its contents pooling around in the tray. Your eyes trail up the arm of the owner that brought over the shots, seeing a guy with flushed cheeks and dishevelled purple dyed hair, a clear sign of someone who had way too much to drink tonight.

One of the guys beside him with shorter dark hair curses beneath his breath, scolding his friend for the mess he’s created as the other tries, and fails, to scoop the spilt alcohol back into its respected cup with his pinky finger. It really doesn’t work, but it makes the whole scene funnier as you watch the orange haired guy's face, tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips in pure concentration. 

“This is the second time this has happened” Jeno informs you with a sigh, but the chuckle that escapes him shows he’s not as annoyed as he’s letting on. “Jaemin spilt the shots earlier”

You assume the purple haired to be the one Jeno had mentioned, but the way the orange haired boy’s head snaps up in offence and stops his failed attempts at trying to scoop the alcohol back into the shot glass, you discover that that was Jaemin. 

“I tripped over your stupid fucking boot actually” Jaemin hisses through his teeth as he kicks his indenticle looking boot against Jeno’s who doesn’t seem fazed at the attack at all. “Anyway, scoot up you losers, let us in”

“Are you joining us?” Eunkyung eyes twinkle at the thought of her favourite band joining the booth and you couldn’t help but feel happy for her, knowing that she’s been waiting for this moment. Although, you’re confused and a little bit worried about where the others would sit, especially inside the booth. It could fit four people at most, but you weren’t entirely sure about the six of you. It would definitely be cramped and to be honest, you’re already stuck against Jeno and the wooded barrier on your other side. 

“Of course we’re joining you, that’s the reason why I bought us all shots” The purple haired, who you discover is Donghyuck after the shorter one who calls out his name with a harsh elbow to the side, scoffs as he makes a quick gesture to Eunkyung to scoot up which she happily does, making enough room for Donghyuck and Jaemin to sit on her side of the booth. 

“Just scooch in Renjun, don’t be shy” Jaemin teases the short black haired who retaliates with a quick middle finger to his face just as he grins apologetically at you and Jeno, clamping a hand down on Jeno’s shoulder to push himself up to stand, placing his boot on the smallest area between Jeno’s legs before climbing over you both, claiming how he doesn't want to sit on the end.

Jeno’s arm slides around your middle in an instant as he shuffles to the edge of the booth, pulling you along with him to let Renjun sit at your other side, allowing him to be squashed in between you and the wooden barrier instead, which he seems weirdly content with, although he does wince when he feels your purse dig into his side and you’re quick to move it with an apology, but he dismisses it with a wave of his hand and smile. 

You’re pressed right up against Jeno now, his arm bringing you even closer to him than usual but he lets you go after a certain while, fingertips brushing against the exposed skin of your back from where your shirt has risen up. He pulls it down on his way, keeping you decent before dropping his arm back into his lap. 

Goosebumps crawl up your skin from the touch and you involuntarily shiver at the feeling, straightening your posture and tearing your attention away from his wandering eyes, completely missing the way his lips curl upwards into a grin. 

What you don’t miss is Eunkyung staring at you and as soon as you meet her eyes, her lips pull into a tight smile which you return back, grabbing your glass of coke to distract yourself from what just happened.

“You. Put that down” Donghyuck points a finger at you, shaking his head with a tut. “We’re doing shots before we continue drinking. You pick first” Going for the easiest option, you reach for one of the shots that tipped over earlier, picking one with the least amount of drink and his mouth opens wide as if you just outwardly offended him. He doesn’t even get a chance to say anything as the others begin to reach for their own shots, clinking their glasses together and Donghyuck’s quick to join, eager to drink.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the fruity taste that slides down your throat but winces at the burn it leaves behind, similar to Renjun beside you who starts to complain.

“What the fuck was that?” He curses, grabbing his beer to wash down the taste of the shot. “What flavour was th—What did you fucking buy?!”

“I don’t know, a whole bunch of different flavoured shots” Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders as he picks up Renjun’s empty shot glass, taking a whiff. His eyebrows raise in surprise, “That’s passionfruit! I had that too, we matched!”

“I hate passionfruit” Renjun almost gags, bringing the beer bottle to his lips again and chugging a few gulps. 

“I think me and Jeno had cherry” Eunkhyung announces, staring at the red stain on Jeno’s chosen shot glass. She grins happily, “We matched”

Jeno nods briefly before turning to you, “What did you have?”

“Raspberry” Jaemin answers for you as he winks at you from across the booth.

“So, I not only had to have a disgusting flavour but I matched with Donghyuck of all people?” Renjun scoffs, eyeballing every single one of you with irritancy, despite their being a little bit of humour pooling in his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable”

“So, what brought you ladies here tonight?” Jaemin asks you and Eunkyung after a few more drinks, courtesy to Eunkyung who had promised to buy everyone the next round. Originally, the next drinks that were bought by Eunkyung were supposed to be for Jeno, but with the other members now joining the table and their constant pleading, she ended up purchasing more than she should’ve. 

You felt bad knowing how pricey this bar was, making a mental note to pay for half of the drinks that were bought at the end of the night even if Eunkyung was giving you side glances to let you know that everything was fine. This was her favourite band after all, she would do anything for them if it meant spending a few more minutes with him… or even just Jeno. 

“Just to hang out with a few drinks” You tell him, eyeing over at the stage where a few of their set pieces are still laid. “We came to listen to your band too”

“Oh?” Jaemin smirks, leaning back into his seat, legs spread wide beneath the table. “Are you guys a fan of our music?”

“I’m a huge fan of your music” Eunkyung gushes excitedly and you allow her to take control of the conversation, leaning her elbows on the table to lean forwards so her cleavage almost spilling out of the top of her dress purposely. You admire her for her confidence even though you so badly want to tell her she doesn’t have to try so hard to get someone’s attention, she’s gorgeous. “I’ve been to almost every single one of your shows here!!”

“Have you been to any of our shows?” Jeno asks and it takes you a few seconds to realise that he’s talking to you when you notice everyone is staring at you, waiting for a reply. The corner of Jeno’s lip twitches upwards slightly as he tilts his head to the side, “Is this your first time?”

“She’s never been” Eunkyung answers for you and you nod your head to confirm. “She doesn’t even like this type of music. I practically had to force her out of her—”

“Is there something wrong with our music?” Donghyuck mocks offence with his hand pressed against his chest like you actually wounded him and Jaemin tuts with a quick shake of his head, mumbling jokingly about how much of a fake fan you are while Renjun stays silent with a grin, watching everything unfold.

“There’s nothing wrong with your music… it’s just that nobody can top WayV”

“You like Wayv?” Jaemin gapes at you, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline and you nod your head. “I think I might seriously be in love with you right now” The boys laugh at that, teasing Jaemin for his ‘embarrassing’ choice of words while Jeno remains quiet with a small grin on his face, keeping his eyes on you which starts to make you feel a little bit stuffy, especially with how his body is pressed against your side too.

“WayV is incredible” Eunkyung pitches in above the laughter and you smile at her, forever grateful for the time she cleared her schedule to go with you to one of their concerts. You seriously owe her one for that. “Jeno, do you like WayV too?”

“They’re great” Jeno hums, his answer short and to the point. Eunkyung beams excitedly and she opens her mouth to speak again but Jeno’s already beat her to it, “Is this really your first time watching us here?”

“Yeah” You confirm, glancing over at Eunkyung who seems a little defeated and you frown at that, not wanting to see her upset or left out so you point over at her, hoping to bring his attention to her this time. “But, like Eunkyung said, she’s a huge fan of—”

“I think you should let me show you what’s backstage here…” Jeno leans forward to whisper lowly to you, even though it was caught by everyone sitting in the booth. His dark eyes stare at you through his pink bangs, awaiting your answer but you struggle to give him one when everyone is staring at you both. Eunkyung’s in complete and utter shock, mouth hung wide and brows pulling together.

She didn’t look impressed, not one bit, and you honestly couldn’t blame her with the way she has been flirting with Jeno this entire time only for him to ignore all the advances given and ask you if you wanted to see what was backstage. 

But the phrase itself must mean more than what it actually was due to how everyone was reacting. His members look quite impressed, maybe even a little smug too considering how they’re not so subtly nudging each other beneath the table and Jaemin’s wiggling his brows, mouthing the word ‘Jeno Magic’ which you caught after Donghyuck’s quick gasp. Eunkyung seems flabbergasted, unable to form any words even though her mouth opens and closes repeatedly.

“What do you say?” Jeno grabs your attention and you turn to face him as his hand knocks against yours lightly. His hand sneaks in the gap between the table and yours with his palm facing upwards, connecting your hands together by slipping his fingers through the gaps of yours, holding your hand gently in his. The warmth of his hand is a complete contrast to his cold metal rings that nip your skin, but it’s weirdly comforting as you find yourself curling your fingers to intertwine with his. “Let me take you backstage… just me and you, yeah? Come with me”

You are aware of how silly you must look right now, not speaking a word while the others are staring at you, awaiting for your answer. You’re unsure of what to say, especially when a big part of you wants to decline, to say how Eunkyung deserves this more than you do, seeming as she’s the fan of the band, the music and Jeno is her favourite member. But then there’s another part of you that’s telling you to take it, to grip his hand in yours and allow him to drag you wherever backstage.

You’ve always been unlucky in situations like these, always being the one that’s left behind during hangouts at a bar while others had fun with boys or getting drunk (which, to be fair, is all on you. You never were the one to go home with someone completely unknown or let yourself indulge yourself in alcohol until you were unable to function) It was never your thing. 

“Y/N—”

“Okay” You and Eunkyung speak at the same time, meeting her wide eyes with your own. You don’t even get a chance to explain yourself or even change your mind as Jeno’s already sliding out of the booth, his fingers tightening around your own and pulling you along with him. You hurriedly grab your purse to throw it over your shoulder, sending an apologetic smile Eunkhyung’s way as you’re whisked from the group, drowning out the noise of the boy's hollering and whooping behind you.

You clench your hand around Jeno’s as he pulls you through a crowd, ducking your head low to avoid the stares of randomers who watch you leave with him, wishing that they were in your position. You feel pretty confident at the thought of people being jealous over you and you dwell on the feeling a little longer until Jeno’s leading you both down a vacant hallway, heading towards a red door with the words ‘BACKSTAGE. STAFF AND BAND ACCESS ONLY’ written in bold font on the wood. 

“Here we go…” Jeno mumbles beneath this breath as he pushes open the door, allowing you to walk in first. You take a step inside, captivated by the fancy string lights that hang from the ceiling, bulbs flickering as Jeno flips the switch to turn them on. It lights the room completely, allowing you to see a colour scheme of pink and black filling the room. Walls coloured a neon pink with various posters plastered across them, a black carpet with instruments and clothes littered all over, and a leather sofa and glass coffee table in the middle of the room. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head when you see a pair of light blue undies thrown across the arm of the sofa and Jeno seems to follow your line of sight as he begins laughing, walking over and picking up the garment nonchalantly.

“Renjun had someone in here earlier. Hyejin” The name doesn’t ring any bells but you nod anyway, watching as he unzips a backpack with Renjun’s nametag on and shoves it inside, looking over at you with a playful smile. “He’ll probably want that for later”

“For later?” You dare to ask, but all Jeno does is throw you a mischievous wink as he zips up Renjun’s backpack and gently kicks it to the side, out of your wandering and curious eyes. You don’t really take much notice as he comes to stand beside you, too focussed on other things that you find scattered amongst the room. You spot a few zip lock bags on the glass coffee table, a few filled with pre rolled joints and others filled with pills and white substances. 

“Jaemin and Donghyuck” He whispers in your ear before you can even get the chance to question and you jump at the close proximity, not expecting him to be as close as he was. You feel his breath fan against your skin as he leans in again, mumbling softly, “They like taking a hit before performing on stage, gets their adrenaline high”

You hesitate to ask, “What about you?”

“Occasionally, but not tonight. Sober in that department right now” He moves around, coming to stand exactly in front of you. His hand comes up to touch your cheek, rings gliding over your cheekbone as he looks into your eyes. “You know the reason why I brought you here, don’t you?”

“Apparently not just to see what’s backstage” You let out a lighthearted laugh, feeling slightly nervous under his touch and gaze. He smirks at that with a shake of his head and you gulp, your palms sweaty and clammy. “I don’t… I don’t do this type of stuff”

Jeno hums, “Do what?”

You feel embarrassed now, heat crawling up your neck and you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes anymore as your focus shot down to his necklace. You wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole when Jeno grabbed your chin between his finger and thumb, lifting your head to meet his gaze once again.

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can take you back out to the bar right now” Jeno tells you, voice full of sincerity and honesty. “Just say the word and we’ll leave… I’ll take you back to your friend and I’ll even call a cab for you to get back home if you don’t want to stay”

“That’s the thing…” You pause, teeth gnawing down on your bottom lip as you feel the inner struggle of wanting to stay but also wanting to leave, more of the former. “I do want to stay. You’re… you’re pretty intriguing, you know?”

“Me? I’m intriguing?” Jeno chuckles, unable to hide the smile on his face. “It’s actually you that’s intrigued me. You caught my attention as soon as I saw you earlier. I’ve never seen you around before and yet you make me feel like I’m going insane, I just—” He stops, voice huskier as he stares at you. “I want you so bad. I want to play with you”

“Play?” You repeat, your own voice small and quiet.

“Will you let me play with you for a bit?” He asks you so sweetly despite the dark look in his eyes. “You want to play with me too, right? I can make you feel good… want to make that pretty little pussy of yours ready for me”

You nod your head weakly, “Okay”

You gasp as Jeno instantly twists you around, back pressed against his chest with his lips resting on your shoulder, nipping at the skin as his hands slowly slide down the strap of your purse, letting it drop to the floor with a thump. Your heart beats widely in your chest at his touch, trying to steady your breathing as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt, knuckles rubbing your sides as he lifts the shirt up, bringing it over your head and letting it join your purse. 

His teeth snag at your earlobe and your crane your neck to the side, allowing to nip and suck at the area as much as he pleases, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. His hips push forwards, his bulge rutting against your lower back while his fingers come down to rest at your hips. You fight the urge to laugh when you feel his fingers drum a beat on your skin, a similar beat to the one that was playing earlier when he was performing, but the urge to laugh disappears when his teeth bite down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, legs almost giving in from shock if it wasn’t for the grip he suddenly had on you.

“You’re so sensitive” He purrs against your skin, his tongue licking the forming mark. “Are you sensitive in other places too?”

“Jeno” You whimper his name when you feel his blunt nails dig into your hips to turn you around, his nose brushing your own before he leans in to push his lips to yours for the first time. The kiss was soft at first, a few second lip lock that caused your body to tingle with nerves that soon slips away when you feel the intensity grow, your hands sliding around his shoulders while his cup the sides of your neck, head tilting to the side as his tongue parts your lips. 

You grip the hair at his nape to bring him as close to you as you possibly could and Jeno happily obliges, body flush against yours with his hands secure around your neck, taking control of the passionate and heated kiss. It makes your head spin, lungs burn—desperate for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to part from him so soon. His kiss is intoxicating. 

“Need you t—” He breaks from you only to connect your lips again, unable to finish his sentence until he has to force himself back. “Need you to lie down for me”

You immediately drop down to the carpet with Jeno following in suit, not daring to even lay on the leather sofa after seeing the underwear Renjun’s fling had forgotten hanging off the arm, you shiver as you think about what else could be left behind. 

Jeno sits at your waist, knees planted on both sides of your body, the silver pointed studs on his pants pricking through the fabric of your jeans. You watch as he takes off his pink body warmer, his black graphic long tee coming off next, messing up his hair even more as it’s tugged over his head. You are in complete awe at his muscled body, hands coming out to trace the outline of his prominent abs and v-line that makes your mouth water. He’s fascinating to look at even without the punk-like clothing. 

His silver crossed chained necklace glides across your skin as he litters kisses and nips down your body, paying extra attention to your breasts that he’s eager to rip free from your bra, not even apologising as you hear the material tear from force.

Your head tips back with a gasp as his tongue rolls over your nipple before it's sucked into his mouth, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud which has you moaning at the sensation, unable to control the gentle jerks of your body.

“Pretty, pretty girl…” Jeno praises you, tongue swirling around the opposite nipple, fingers kneading your breasts. “You’re so sensitive, so easy to play with, aren’t you?”

“Jen—”

“Shhh…” Jeno shushes you as you moan a little too loudly, watching you with hooded lids as he pulls your jeans and panties down, discarding them somewhere to the side as he pries open your legs, eyes roaming down your body and to your glistening folds. Your heart races as he's looking at your pussy and you feel a little bit embarrassed, debating on whether snapping your legs close so he couldn’t look anymore or telling him to hurry up so you don’t feel hot under his gaze.

Jeno’s already crawling down between your legs before you can even react and your thighs almost close in on his head as you feel his mouth trail kissing around the skin of your inner thighs, teeth nipping at your most sensitive areas and almost lose yourself as his tongue presses in between your folds, his nose rubbing against your throbbing clit that’s been beginning for his attention. 

“Jeno…” You whisper out his name pathetically, back arching off of the floor as his hands join his tongue, two digits pushing through your entrance and curling upwards, drawing out a moan from you. He’s sloppy with his tongue, licking you in all the right places that has your toes curling over his shoulders and his fingers that fuck into you send you wailing. You’re loud now, too loud to the point Jeno’s free hand moves up your body to curl around your mouth, keeping your noises muffled in the palm of his hand. 

Your pussy squeezes Jeno’s fingers desperately and the vibrations of him chuckling against your folds sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure bliss, unable to watch the mess of pink hair between your legs no more. He strokes your walls, the cold metal of his ringers that he should’ve taken off before even thinking about fingering you sends shivers down your spine. 

before even thinking about fingering you sends shivers down your spine. 

“Your pussy tastes so fucking good” His tongue presses in between your folds and you whimper beneath his palm, thighs shaking beside his head as he finger fucks you faster and harder, the wet sounds from your pussy making you want to curl up in embarrassment but your orgasm is rapidly approaching and you want nothing more than to come undone around his fingers.

He’s whispering praises at your pussy as he continues his ministrations through your climax, nose nudging your little bundle of nerves, messy and sloppy kisses on your folds, fingers curling to graze against the sweet spot and it’s enough to draw out a few tears, becoming far too sensitive for him to continue.

You’re pushing him back with your foot and Jeno laughs as finally lets you go, dropping your legs from his shoulders and kneeling in between them, watching as your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to capture your breath.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl“ Your heart warms at his praise and you peel your eyes open just in time to see him bring his two fingers to his mouth, covered in your slick. He keeps eye contact with you as he pushes the digits past his lips to suck them clean and you find the sight unbelievably attractive. 

He removes his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before his hands drop to his pants. He’s quick to get rid of the rest of his clothing, moving them out of the way with a hard shove so they wouldn’t cause any interruptions between you both. His hand locks around your wrist to drag you up into a sitting position, your forehead almost knocking against his chest at the harsh tug. 

His head dips low to kiss your lips softly before he orders you to turn around, to get on your hands and knees in front of him. You do as you’re told without question, flipping around with your ass in the air, cheek resting against the pink carpet. 

“Shit… I wish you could see yourself from this angle” Jeno curses, fingers dripping the flesh of your ass and getting the skin a few light taps. He shuffles forwards on his knees, one hand wrapping around himself to tap the head of his cock against your entrance, collecting your arousal with a low groan.

“Please” You manage to pathetically plead out and Jeno hums with a nod, licking at his lips as he pushes his thick head into you gently. Your eyes widen at the burning stretch, fully understanding how fucking big he is even without seeing his cock. He stops for a few seconds to let out a shaky breath with a laugh, rubbing at your hips as he feels you tremble beneath him, somewhat mocking you but you pay no attention as you wiggle your ass back into him, begging for him to move.

“Fuck” Jeno seeths through his teeth at the go ahead, moving his hand up from your hips to your lower back as he pushes in deeper, bottoming out completely. A strangled gasp rips from the back of your throat, nails scraping across the carpet in search of anything to grasp onto to keep yourself grounded as Jeno’s hips press against your ass, dick buried deep within the warmth of your walls that has him panting. You’re unable to make a noise, mouth stuck open wide as Jeno pulls his hips back before rolling them forward, thrusting back into you.

His deep strokes has you choking on your own words as you try to speak, try to tell him how fucking good it feels. He’s angling his hips, hitting a particular spot inside of you that finally has you squealing, almost sending you flying forwards if it wasn’t for his grip.

“I got you” Jeno chuckles between grunts, his balls hitting the backs of your thighs with loud slaps. “You like that, pretty girl? Yeah? Am I making you feel good?”

“Good” You spit out, mind too blank to come up with a functioning sentence. He laughs again as he finds a good rhythm to work with, a rhythm that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He’s moving too fast for you to register and the sound of skin slapping against skin has your head whirling. 

“I’m gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours—fill you up, yeah? Gonna fill you up with my cum” The way his tone sounds and how jumbled his words are indicates how close he is to his orgasm and you’re not far behind. You wish you could move back against him, you wish you could do more than just lay here with your ass in the air. You want to make him feel good too, but you can’t find any of your strength and your mind is too clouded with lust and pleasure to even begin to move. You’re stuck as a moaning mess for him to use, not that you’re complaining. 

The only thing you can do is tighten your pussy around his cock in hopes that it would do something to make him feel good and he gives you one big thrust before he stills, his cock pumping spurts of cum in your walls as he hits his climax. The feeling alone sets you off into your last orgasm of the night, mewling at the warmth that spreads through you. He’s panting heavily, slowly rolling his hips to ride out the last wave of both your orgasms, smirking proudly when he feels your body tremble.

Jeno takes his time pulling out of you carefully and once you’re free, your body flops down to the carpet, the air knocking out of your lungs from the harsh impact. You gasp for air desperately, trying your best to regulate your breathing as you come down from your intense high, grimacing as you feel Jeno’s cum pool out of your pussy, making a mess of your thighs and the carpet beneath you. You go to turn your head over your shoulder to see if Jeno’s okay but you’re shrieking with a wince as you feel Jeno’s hands run up your thighs and to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to lean down and leave a smooch on your leaking pussy, chest vibrating with a hum.

“Good girl”

tag list :- @wolfjeno . @matchahyuck . @niinjo . @painted-hills . @girlwholoveslpreppyattire . @jaeminsbebu . @jaeymark . @marksluvr0 . @tulips-stuff . @n0hyuck . @skzzznct . @marknojem . @pckeia . @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples . @gyulfriend

©mrkis

[mamsieur]

Perseus and Andromeda | Javy "Coyote" Machado x Reader

Summary : Javy's not a big fan of night clubs, and yet he agreed to accompany his cousin for her birthday. When all seems too much for him, someone turns his evening for the better.

TW : mention of alcohol, slight panic attack, fluff

Length : 3079 words

AN : That man doesn't have enough works about him. I'll maybe turn this one into a series, who knows.

posted on AO3 October 13, 2023

Javy has never been the type to go clubbing or partying too much, despite what everyone seemed to think. He much preferred a quiet evening with his buddies over a few beers and pizzas, watching a game or a good action movie. The comfort of his home was something he always yearned for when he was out for more than a few hours. Especially since he was permanently stationed in San Diego, his apartment was truly a home, not just a house. He had even adopted a cat from a shelter; an old one named Gizmo. 

His friends, especially Jake, never seemed to understand why he didn't like to stay out late, even on weekends. He didn’t have a girlfriend, he was barely thirty, and his outgoing personality seemed to categorize him as someone who liked to go out and seduce, like his friend Jake. Sure, he liked to flirt and go out once in a while, but he liked the coziness of his own home even more. The only ones in the squadron who seemed to understand and who did not tease him about it were Bob, because of his more reserved and introverted nature, and Bradley, who always claimed he was getting too old to go out every weekend.

And yet here he was, in the middle of a nightclub. 

Under pressure from his aunt, he had no choice but to be a chaperone for his little cousin Ava, who was celebrating her twenty-fifth birthday. She decided to visit him at the last minute and celebrate with her friends in a well renowned club. Ava was sweet, but also a real party girl. She loved to go out, dance and drink the night away. The last time she dragged Javy to a party, he remembered waking up with the worst headache of his life, so he promised himself not to let her make him drink. Also, as Javy didn't want to be alone with his cousin and her three best friends, he managed to bring Jake, Rebeun and Mickey with him. Unfortunately for him, the three boys enjoyed the party with the girls, leaving him alone with his drink at the bar. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he looked down at his phone to check the time. Not even ten minutes had passed since he had last checked. The music was way too loud, the lights were starting to hurt his eyes, but he had to stay at least four hours, if not five, knowing Ava. He loved her for sure, but being here was torture for him. He sighed again and ordered a soda to the bartender, keeping an eye on his baby cousin and her friends.

The atmosphere of nightclubs always made him feel that nothing was real, that everything was fogged in a cloud of alcohol, sweat and uncomfortable heat. He was not uncomfortable per se, but he was not in his element either ; so, he always preferred to stay at the bar, like a ship anchored in a harbor. But tonight Ava seemed to have decided he wasn't going to stand by and watch. It was all right if he didn't drink, but she wasn't going to let him stand by the bar like some kind of security guard.

"Come on Javy, it's my birthday," she whined, "just one dance, please!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him - with great difficulty - to the dance floor.

"Yeah Coyote, loosen up a little," Mickey encouraged with a big grin as he danced with one of Ava's friends who giggled in his arms. The taller man groaned, not very comfortable in the crowd Ava had pushed him into. He sighed as she used her puppy dog eyes to get him to dance with her. 

"Just one dance, Ava. Just. One." He reminded her, holding up a finger. She chuckled as she nodded, a mischievous look in her eyes. Javy sighed and started to dance with her and the others, Jake encouraging him with Reuben. One dance became two, then three, then four... until he lost count. He was kind of stuck in the middle of the dance floor anyway. 

As the minutes and hours passed, Javy had this strange feeling, as if between dream and reality, this gray area where everything seemed unreal and suspended. He knew the music was still loud around him, but he could barely hear it. He felt like he was in absorbent cotton, like after a flight with a high G-force. It wasn't a pleasant or unpleasant sensation, just strange, as if time was passing in a different way. He looked around to spot his friends in the crowd; Mickey was still with Ava's friend, Jake was flirting with an unknown blonde, and Reuben was dancing with Ava and her other friends. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and Ava waved and smiled at Javy, gesturing for him to join her. He shook his head and mouthed that he was going back to the bar. Ava pouted, but then shrugged her shoulders with a grin, already happy to have trapped him into dancing with them for almost two hours.

He closed his eyes for a moment to ground himself, but it didn't seem to work. He needed to get some air, to breathe. But every time he tried to take a few steps, he was blocked. So he stayed a little longer with his friends and Ava. The young woman seemed to be having the time of her life, dancing with her friends and then with Jake or Reuben, strangers or Javy. It reassured him to see her so happy and still in full possession of her senses.

But a feeling of anxiety slowly crept over him. He hated being stuck between so many strangers. His impression of being in cotton was replaced by a feeling of hypersensitivity to the sounds, heat and movements around him. Fatigue didn't help him control the situation. He tried again to make his way through the drunken, dancing crowd. He forced his way through, his eyes fixed on the door to the smoking area. He didn't smoke, but it was the only way to get in and out quickly and safely. He moved forward one by one, apologizing as he went, slipping between people as best he could, avoiding the sticky couples, his gaze always straight ahead. He moved faster and faster as he reached the end of the crowd. When he finally reached the door, it swung open in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. He was faced with a young woman he didn't know, but her face was familiar. She seemed as surprised as he was. Javy's ears were ringing and he couldn't hear anything coherent between the music, his own brain telling him to hurry and the young woman in front of him who seemed to be talking to him. His own breathing seemed far too loud, and he could even hear his heart beating in his ears. The stranger's eyes were filled with concern as she recognized Javy's anxious, almost panicked look. And when she gently grabbed his forearm, everything in the pilot's mind seemed to calm down.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her voice was soft and reassuring, and Javy could only hear it now; everything had faded away behind him. He blinked a few times before answering.

"Y-Yeah... I, uh, I just need some air, I think..." he stuttered a little. The stranger nodded and let him through the door. She joined him on the small bench. Javy was surprised that there was no one in this smoking area, but it was kind of relieving. He took a moment to simply breathe. He had experienced a panic attack in the past, but he didn't think he could have one just by coming to a club.

"So... what's your name?" the young woman said softly, looking at the stars above them.

"Javy... you?" 

"Y/N," she smiled at him and turned to him, "are you feeling better Javy?"

"Yeah," he nodded and sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Don't be, it happens. I've seen a lot of customers get anxious when they spend too much time in crowds," she handed him a small bottle of water from her purse, "I think you should drink some water."

He took the bottle and looked at her suspiciously, "Are you trying to drug me?" he teased, feeling himself blush at the pretty laugh she let out.

"Believe me, pretty boy, if I wanted to drug you, I would have put it in your soda earlier," she winked at him. 

And it clicked in Javy's head, "You're the bartender. We're not in the smoking area," he pointed at her and then at the door, realizing the situation.

"I am and we're not. We're in the staff area," she chuckled, "that's why I asked if you were lost."

"I... I didn't quite hear you," Javy admitted with a bashful smile as he stood up, "Maybe I should let you enjoy your break ?" he gestured toward the door and she shrugged.

"You can stay a while to relax if you want, my shift just ended, I can tell my boss you're a friend. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable here than in the smoking area," she smiled kindly, "it's up to you."

Javy looked at her and pondered his options. He could go to the smoking corner and choke on the smoke, or he could stay with her. He could go back to a tiny room that would surely be crowded with people, or he could stay here with the cute barmaid. 

His choice was quickly made.

"Okay, I'll stay here, but only because you didn't poison my drinks," he smiled and was rewarded with another pretty laugh. He wanted to hear it over and over again. It was like a melody, a soothing one. Javy had had his fair share of dates and flings, but none had made him feel like this. It was weird, but not in a bad way. He wanted to know everything about Y/N, from the most insignificant thing to her biggest milestone, from her favorite color to her entire childhood. When her eyes met his, he felt like a teenager again. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"So you work here?" he asked, immediately cursing himself in his head for asking such a stupid question.

"Yes I do, but it's only temporary, at least I hope so," she smiled at him, "And what do you do, pretty boy?"

"I'm a naval aviator, ma'am," he smiled at the chuckle she let out as he mockingly saluted her. She was so pretty when she laughed; her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were rosy, and her nose wrinkled in such a cute way. Javy felt his heart skip a beat when she looked back at him with such a soft and adorable grin.

"So you're one of those handsome flyboys... What's it like? I mean, flying so high and so fast?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Javy smiled and sat down next to her, his eyes drifting to the starry sky. As he explained what his job was like, she continued to question him with sincere interest. He always answered as best he could without being too technical. After that, they talked about everything and got to know each other. Javy was proud and happy when he could make her laugh. A silly anecdote about a locker room accident between him and Jake made her laugh out loud and she grabbed the young man's forearm to keep from falling over. He felt goosebumps run up his arm and down his back. He didn't want her to let go and she didn't. She gently hooked her arm into his and rested her head on his shoulder.

Everything seemed so simple and easy with her, so crystal clear. There was no awkwardness between them, as if they had known each other for a long time. 

They talked about everything. Javy learned that the young woman loved San Diego, but that her job wasn't fulfilling despite the decent pay, that she rented an old apartment from an unpleasant old man, that she loved admiring the stars but had never really taken the time to learn the constellations. So he told her what little he knew, including the story of Perseus and Andromeda, the story of a hero who flew to save a beautiful princess.

"I could fly and save you from your landlord, just as Perseus saved Andromeda," he teased, and she laughed and shook her head.

"Sounds like an interesting prospect. But just so you know, I'm not a princess in distress either, dear Perseus," she winked at him with a playful smile, her fingers brushing gently along his forearm in lazy circles.

"I never said you were, Andromeda wasn't really in control of her life. You seem to be a strong, independent woman," he winked back, "But if the myth is true, I personally think that Andromeda's beauty wouldn't stand a chance against you," he added, smiling as she blushed and giggled to hide her embarrassment. 

"You're being a little too flattering, Perseus..." she whispered. Javy leaned closer and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Just telling the truth, Andromeda," he smiled at her.

"And if anything, I was the one who saved you tonight, I should be Perseus in this story," she teased, and he laughed.

"Touché."

The evening had taken a rather pleasant turn for Javy. He had almost forgotten about Ava and the others. Only when he felt his phone vibrate did he realize what time it was; the nightclub was about to close and he'd just spent two hours with Y/N. Noticing the time, the young woman swore and sighed. It was nearly three in the morning.

"The club is closing... we have to be discreet on our way back in, the lights all must be on," she said as she stood up and slid her hand into Javy's, "You'll have to follow me very closely flyboy," she smiled and the young man blushed. He nodded with an equally wide smile and squeezed her hand slightly, "Lead the way, Andromeda."

She chuckled and headed for the door. She checked carefully to make sure the way was clear and then quickly pulled Javy inside with her. She looked back at him over her shoulder and they started giggling like kids who didn't get caught stealing candy from the pantry. They slipped through the crowd toward the exit, staying close together. Javy looked around for his cousin and the others outside. He spotted them near their cars, Ava waving at him. Then he looked at Y/N, their hands still in each other's, fingers intertwined. He didn't want to let them go, but he had to get back. And he didn't want to burden her with Jake and Ava's comments or Reuben and Mickey's knowing looks. 

To his surprise, it was the young woman who spoke first, facing him.

"I had a really good time with you... and... I was wondering... I was wondering if..." 

Javy couldn't help but smile a little as she fought down her embarrassment to ask him her question. He ran his free hand over her cheek, lifting her face a little to plant his eyes in hers.

"If your question is whether we can meet again, the answer is yes, Andromeda," he winked at her. The young woman blushed but smiled adorably before handing him her phone so he could punch in his number. Javy laughed a little as she saved it under "Flyboy/Perseus". She sent him a short text message so he had her number too and he saved it as "Savior/Andromeda". It made her laugh and Javy felt his heart flutter. He couldn't wait to ask her out on a real date. So he did.

"So... are you working tomorrow night?"

"No, actually I'm not working until Tuesday," she smiled, "Why?"

"Great. I'll pick you up at 8:00, I know a place where we can do better stargazing than the staff area at the back of the club. I'll bring some food too."

She giggled and nodded, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement, "Sounds lovely, I'll text you my address."

Behind them, Javy could hear his friends and cousin getting a little impatient. He turned his head a little to see what they wanted; while Jake gave him both thumbs up, Ava gestured for him to hurry up; she probably had an after party planned at the Airbnb where she was staying. Y/N followed his gaze and blushed a little when she saw all those eyes on them.

"I think they're waiting for you," she chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"I think they can wait a few more seconds," he muttered, catching her chin and tilting her head a little so she was looking up at him. They were so close that his breath made her skin tingle. She bit her lip, blushing even more when his eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. She rose on her toes, closing the distance between them a little more, and Javy kissed her gently. And it was as if the world disappeared. Her free hand slid down his neck and his down her waist. She was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his life, her lips so soft against his.

When they parted, they could hear Ava and the others cheering for them and Y/N snorted a little.

"Okay Perseus, I think your friends are getting a little too excited for you here."

"You think?" he grinned, "In my opinion, they're jealous."

He kissed her again and felt her smile against his lips. But he had to go.

"See you tomorrow Andromeda, be safe on your way home," he whispered to her, smiling. She nodded and gently pulled away. "Be safe too, Perseus," she smiled before walking to her own car, waving to him and his friend behind her. Javy watched her go and finally joined his group with a light step and a throbbing heart. After all, it hadn't been such a terrible evening, and the comforts of home seemed almost bland. There was only one thing he could wait for: the next evening.

[k-n-e-o]

Stray kids if they were to work in little businesses around my city

Chan

He’s the bartender at the bar in the strip mall with the tattoo shop

(I did have him working at a daycare but I figured I’d give him a break from kids lol)

He knows every dirty little secret about everyone in the city I swear

But he’s just so easy to talk to

Will do fancy tricks if you ask him

Always gets the big tips just because it’s him

finds it incredibly a amusing when some of the college girls come in and have a hard time saying some of the dirty names of some of the drinks

Every karaoke night someone drags him on stage to sing

The whole city knows he can sing by now

People come from the neighbouring cities to hear him sing sometimes

He’s always so flustered when some one compliments him

It endearing

walks to and from work everyday cause his work is literally a block away from his house

But will drive to work just so he can offer to drive Felix and Han home some nights

Minho

works at a dance studio down main street and at another studio on the other side of town

he's a very busy man

loves his job, except for dealing with parents

trust me when i say as a dance assistant parents are usually the hardest part of the job

he likes working with the older kids

but they just can't beat the adorable smiles and giggles of the little kids

most definitely doesn't have a crush on the ballet teacher....

might stay a little longer on Thursdays to see them.

chan, hyunjin and felix will stop by on weekends for the adult classes, it's always chaos.

Changbin

I'm sorry but he's a cafe man to me (It was this or tattoo artist and i'm sorry but someone else is taking that.....)

is the coffee god

cannot bake a thing for his life tho

his boss unltimately doesn't let him in the kitchen

but that just means he gets to sleep in longer cause he doesn't have to help bake anything in the morning

(The man doesn't know how to crack and egg, there's no way he's making eclare's sorry binnie )

flirts with everyone just cause

his boss scolded him in the beginning but he brings in more costumers so who would complain?

but like imagine

buff barista changbin

yes i agree

true masterpiece

likes talking with the old lady who owns the boutique a few shops down

she always calls him cute and he lives for that

but also like the quiet times too because thats when he writes his lyrics

Hyunjin

works in the old lady's boutique

she only hired him cause he was pretty

but then he ended up helping her with her branding by drawing up a new logo and doing all of the stuff with tags and things

he’s now her grandson

goes with her into the city to buy new fabrics

always her model

mans the shop when she heads out to binnies cafe, but she always brings him back an americano and a cookie

after work he stops by to grab another cookie

and of course has to clarify that changbin had no part in the baking process

which earns him a smack from changbin every single time

but he loves it lol practically cackles everytime too

most of his wardrobe is filled with clothes the lady has made him

but they're really nice so he doesn't mind

Jisung

Okay so this might just be me but-

Imagine Han as a tattoo artist (kinda hot...👀)

Han would work in the tattoo parlour just down the street.

He either will only have a couple tattoos or a whole sleeve or two, there is no in between

absolute sweetest

i don't have any tattoos yet so i don't really know how this stuff works so please bare with me

such a good listener

you could probably talk his ear off while he's tattooing you and he's paying attention to every single word while still working diligently

did changbins tattoos and the wolf on chans arm

when he's not writing lyrics or tattooing, he's working with hyunjin to design tattoos

if the person he's tattooing hasn't eaten enough before their tattoo he will just call up felix to deliver some snacks

does get told a lot by felix that it isn't in his job description

but felix can't argue with him when han gives him the cute quokka eyes

but i mean who would want to

Felix

works at the gas station right beside the tattoo parlour.

Such a sweetie

Knows almost everyone that comes in.

Has a couple inside jokes with the guy that buys his lottery ticket every week

Can’t help but beam with happiness when that one special person enters

Gets teased by the regulars when they notice.

the store also allows dogs inside and it's his favourite thing about working there

will always get the doggy a bowl of water to drink

loves to pet them

he just can't help himself

if he's being honest, that one slushie machine has probably never been fixed in the two? years he's worked there

and the pepsi one is always just a little too watery

but he likes the ice cream better anyways

always sees the kids from the middle and high school stopping in when they aren't supposed to to grab snacks

but he doesn't say anything (cause he was one of those kids...oop)

Seungmin

Works at the marble slab that is for some reason all on its own in the parking lot on Main Street?

(Like it’s not attached to the strip mall, it’s just sitting on its own across from the strip mall)

Gets frustrated with those tipsy teens who just love coming and ordering ice cream two minutes to closing.

Has to stop mopping the floors to take their order

Then gets more mad when he sees the dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floor.

( totally was not something my friends did.....I was the by choice designated sober person lol)

but he likes having the later shifts cause he deals with less children

not that he doesn't like kids

they're just messy as hell

and the later shifts allows him to walk home with his friends

so there's that

he's kind of sick of ice cream at this point tho

i mean, he's staring at it practically all day so, i mean, me too (I say as i've never worked at an ice cream shop before)

Jeongin

Works at the popular dollar store down on Main Street

and i mean popular

all the middle aged moms shop there and love to coo at him

Expects Minho and seungmin to drop in every night right before they close to pick up late night snacks after their work

Asks them to wait sometimes so he can walk home with them

Some times they do

Other times they tease him by making him think they left without him

But they wouldn’t actually, jeongin is too cute to leave alone at night

Finds it annoying when people leave things in the wrong spot when the things actual spot is literally a few steps away (despite being popular it’s not that big lol)

(totally not something that bugs me and i don't even work there)

he's also a dog walker on the weekends, stops in at felix's convenice store to chat for a bit before going back

————

I might do little fanfics based on these

[elssero]

pro hero denki who can’t help but flirt with the cute bartender that works the saturday night shift at the bar he and his friends vacate every weekend.

he tells you he likes your hair most when it’s tied up- means he can see your pretty face more clearly. all of a sudden u wear ur hair up every time he comes in.

he whines everytime you tell him that he can’t buy you a drink- your working! who will serve him and his silly friends drinks if your drunk!

he’s relentless in his flirting, constantly complimenting everything about you- your eyes are so pretty in this lighting. did your lips always look so kissable??

it never goes anywhere, he always end up far too drunk to stay until the end of your shift. his friends slurring you a mix of sorries as they drag him out of the door.

you get it. he’s drunk, he’s flirting with the bartender because that’s what men do, it’s silly teasing. your used to it.

yet you still can’t help the little twinge you feel in your stomach everytime you watch him leave.

when he and his friends enter the bar tonight it feels immediately different. like something’s off. denki doesn’t instantly attempt to talk your ear off and that’s how you know somethings not quite right.

infact he doesn’t come up to the bar at all tonight, you take a quick note of how his usual double coke is a single instead when his red haired friend orders it with a smile.

with your shift near ending and being still no closer to finding out why denki hasn’t spoken to you all night you begin to get ready to leave. throwing your jacket on and taking your bag in hand you make your way to the door, your hand doesn’t hit the wooden surface before it’s grabbed by another’s.

“oh- shit sorry. didn’t mean to be so rough- thought i’d missed you leave.” you’d recognize anywhere- you don’t need to look up to know exactly who the person beside you is. except it’s more sincere than you normally hear it, and it’s alot more clear than the usual slurring.

looking up at denki you find him red in the face, free hand reaching up the scratch the back of his neck as he looks at your with nothing but nerves.

his grip on your wrist lessons slightly, he’s careful to not fully let go.

“can i buy you a drink?” his eyes don’t leave yours as he asks but you see the way his chest rises and falls heavily.

“what?” you blink at him. he’s not spoken to you all night and now he wants to buy you a drink? right when your about to go home.

“w-well um. you always say that uh- i’d have to wait until the end of your shift to be able to buy you one.” now he looks away from you. clearly embarrassed.

oh.

so that’s why he hadn’t been drinking as much tonight. all the puzzle pieces fall right into place in your head as a wide smile reaches your lips.

he’d deliberately not drank as much as he usually does, spending less time at the bar to avoid being temped by whatever spirit was in your hand.

he’d done it all in the hopes of asking you out- properly this time. you giggle like a school girl.

“yes denki- i’d love for you to buy me a drink.”

[skyeet-the-writer]

backwoods to beaches (rooster x female!reader)

1 — Piano-Playing Pilots

ever since i watched top gun 2 i've been obsessed with miles teller. like obsessed like it's embarrassing. so, to deal with my problem, ive written and entire ass essay as seen below you. and there will be more. much more coming towards yall

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x female!reader

summary: as a girl from georgia, california is a big change. but working at a bar gives you a perfectly good reason to oogle at piano-playing pilots on a late night

word count: ~5.8k

warnings: some swearing, alcohol (obv), suggestive mentions, hardcore flirting around the end

notes: if you couldn’t tell by the title or the summary, reader is from georgia and down south so there will be a lot of mentions/references to this. i myself am from western ky, but if i’ve gotten anything wrong or aren’t portraying it correctly, lmk how to fix it! other than that, enjoy y’all. x.

insp by @heartsofminds fic “blooming”

playlist:

That first summer as a bartender was rough. California was a lot hotter than you thought it would be, and by the time the night was over and the rush of military men and women had thinned, you were covered in sweat.

California was also not as pretty as you had made it up to be in your head. There were a lot fewer trees than you would have preferred. But there were beaches.

Back from where you came from, everything was pretty to you. Rolling hills, fields full of wildflowers. Beautiful sunrises and even more stunning sunsets. Acres upon acres of forests, with dirt trails dusty and worn from generations of four-wheeling and ATVing. Miles of farmland that were always ready when harvest comes around. Creeks clear as glass and ponds full of almost every kind of fish one could think of. Everything you had grown up with and around was absolutely gorgeous to you.

California had her fair shares of beauty. But not as many as back home.

When you and your best friend graduated college, you two wanted a change of scenery. And so, when her uncle called her and invited her to live with her, she accepted and took you with her. It was hard, watching that small town you had lived in all your life fade in the rearview mirror, but at the time, it was what you wanted.

Your friend's uncle was in the navy and he lived in Miramar. Also called "Fightertown, USA". You quickly figured out why when a jet flew over your head as you two exited the car upon your arrival at your new home.

You and your friend smiled at each other, excited to have a fresh start.

To complete the absolute teenage dream, the two of you got a job at the same bar, the Hard Deck. It was just a few minutes away, a perfect fit for your friend, who always happened to be late to everything. Not to mention that it paid pretty well, had tips, and was also run by a woman.

But on your second week, you realized how much of a nightmare it could be. The naval men and women always came in, talking loudly, and began to laugh louder after a few drinks. But somehow, it reminded you of home. That's why you lasted longer than your friend did.

You found joy in your stressful job. The owner, Penny, often called you into work during the weekend, the busiest time. You began to recognize people's faces and remember their names, even remembered a few orders as the weeks went by.

When the summer came to an end, you had become some of the patron's favorites. Some were familiar with your accent and you found friendships in those ones, asking what part of Georgia, Louisana, or Carolina they were from and smiling at stories you could relate to.

Another year passed and the next summer, you became even better at your job. When you first started, you were a nervous, shy little girl from Georgia who had trouble remembering things but was still so sweet. Suddenly, you became this young lady with a thick accent and an even thicker skull. The girl who used to blush and twirl her hair at any man who flirted with her to a woman who would simply shake her head at another young boy just vying for attention.

Tonight, the bar is hopping. Penny, who, despite being your boss, is one of your closest friends/motherly figures, is busy chatting it up with some older guy who doesn't look over the age of thirty. You didn't catch his name, far too busy with the customers Penny should be dealing with. But you don't mind. You don't know a whole lot about Miss Penny's personal life, but something tells you that there was once something between her and the older man.

"Could I get another beer, Miss L/N?" asks Cooper, a regular from last year.

"Of course, Coop," you tell the man, taking his glass from him. "What was it, Bud Light?"

He nods. "You got it. Say, how come you always rememberin' all these orders. I couldn't ever do that."

With a smile, you refill his glass and place it back to him with a new napkin under it. "Ain't you a flight operator?" you tease with a raised brow.

Cooper smiles and laughs. "Yeah, that's true." He lifts his glass to his lips.

You tap the bar in front of him and move to another patron next to him. "Besides, you come in here often enough for me to remember." You turn to the woman in front of you. "You had a whiskey on the rocks, right, darling?"

The lady nods and suddenly there's a loud ringing of a bell from nearby. The bar erupts into cheers and you spot Penny's date with his head in his hands and Penny with a triumphant smirk.

"Looks like this one's on the house," you tell the woman, topping her glass off before sliding it back towards her.

Humming to yourself, you mentally prepare for the next round of drinks on the man. It was bar rules that if anyone insulted a woman, they had to buy the entire bar a round. It sure was fun to watch their smirk vanish from their face. You've rung that bell a few times yourself and watched the color drain from the man flirting with you fade from his face almost as quick as the smug smirk.

"Hey, pretty lady!" comes a familiar voice that makes you smile. Jake Seresin, A.K.A. "Hangman", approaches the bar, grinning. "Can I get four beers on the old man?"

With a simple nod and a smile, you reach to the fridge below the bar and pull out four beers, two in each hand before handing them to Hangman.

"How's your evenin' been, Jake?" you ask him, taking just a moment to have a small conversation.

The man grins and says, "Pretty good. You?"

"Had three guys ask for my number," you reply, grinning. "Threatened to ring the bell on 'em if they didn't cut it out."

Jake groans. "You shoulda done it anyway! Would've saved me a lot of money." With a laugh, he walks off, likely to his friends. You've been watching them play pool all evening and you can hear their banter even from over here.

As the night wears on, you quickly begin to wear out. Bartending is an exhausting practice, mixing drink after drink and refilling or restocking. Thankfully, most people only get beers. Those are your favorite kinds of people, the ones where you can just hand them something and have them be on their way.

Eventually, your best friend, Dixie, comes in, instantly claiming her usual seat at the bar close to the door. You smile when she walks in and she races to steal one of the few open barstools before someone else can claim it.

Dixie doesn't drink, which is odd considering how often she comes in to bother you. You place a bowl of chips in front of her and sparkling water and wipe your hands down.

"Y'all are busy, huh?" she asks, crunching on one of the bar's chips. "Look at all these hunks, Y/N."

With a roll of your eyes, you remember why she comes in so often. She loves to oogle at the military boys that filled the majority of the bar. She always had a thing for military men. That was one of the few things you didn't have in common: despite living in a military town, none of the men seemed to do it for you. Most of them were too cocky, too bold, their egos too big. You never preferred those kinds of boys.

Dixie on the other hand? They were her favorite. You remembered her bringing a couple of them back home your first few months. Those were the nights you sat out in the back screened-in porch watching some movie or show with your earbuds at max volume.

"Dixie, you know I can't stand them," you tell her with a smile and a shake of your head. "Their egos are way too big."

"Wanna know what else is big?" asks Dixie, wiggling her eyebrows. You give her a look of disgust and she laughs.

"I'm telling your momma next time we head home," you threaten, pointing at her.

She laughs again. "We both know you won't, Y/N."

With another roll of your eyes, you head towards another patron waving you down. "What can I help you with, darlin'?"

"Can I get a few shots of tequila, please?" asks the man.

You nod. "Sure thing. Three okay?"

"Yeah, that works."

With a bright smile, you say, "Alrighty!" and get to work. Picking three shot glasses out, you fill them to the brim with tequila. You also put some salt on a plate with a few wedges of lime and pass it to the man. "You got it all?"

He nods, carrying the shots in one hand and the plate with the rest of the fixings in the other. He thanks you before walking off back towards a table.

With a glance to the door, your heart almost stops. You know he's a fighter pilot. He's not wearing a flight suit or a uniform or anything. No, he's just in a white beater with a faded Hawaiian shirt and aviator glasses. But there's something about him that you just know is the epitome of a fighter pilot. You've met enough of them in the year that you've lived in Fightertown, you're confident you can spot one from a mile away.

For a naval pilot, though, there's something different about him. Maybe it's the way he's standing, slightly slouched and not fully upright like so many of the other ones do. Maybe it's the way he's biting the bottom of his lip like he's nervous. Or maybe it's the way he somehow exudes a vibe of...chill. An aura of calmness and relaxation that you can feel from over here.

You watch him spot a group back near the pool table and watch him walk up to them, where Jake is laughing with his fellow pilots. You watch Jake stand up and raise a brow. Does he puff his chest out?

"As I live and breathe," you hear him say with a smirk evident.

The other man, who appears to be the same height as Jake, says nothing. He just shakes his head, pushes his shades up, and leans on the table.

You wonder why he's wearing sunglasses in an already dark bar.

However, you’re quickly snapped out of your fantasy when you see someone else waving you down. With a small blush you hope is mostly invisible in the dim light, you walk over, apologizing.

All throughout the night, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of that pilot. You have no idea what his name is and you’ve never seen him before in your life. But there’s just something about him that makes you yearn. Your eyes yearn to him while you pour another drink and you almost spill a few times, much to the amusement of Penny.

Eventually, you spot Penny's date counting his cash and cards, trying to find a way to pay off his debt. Then he smiles sheepishly, holds his hands up, and the next thing you know, Penny is yelling out, "Overboard, overboard!"

Hangman and a few other airmen who happened to be around the bar grab the man, each having a limb. You've seen this happen plenty of times, and it still makes you laugh, watching another man get thrown out of the bar because he couldn't pay his debt.

It was never anything mean, just playfulness. That's what the bar was. It was playful, it was friendly. It was a place for naval men and women alike to come after a hard day's work of...whatever they did and get a drink and play a game of pool or darts with a friend. It was one of the many things that reminded you of home.

During a short time when things calm down, you lean next to her where she’s chatting with Dixie. “Hey, Pen. Who’s that guy over there by the pool table?”

She looks in your direction and tilts her head. “Y/N, there’s no one over there.”

With a frown, you see that there isn’t anyone over there indeed. Scanning the bar, you search for him. “W…where’d he go?”

Suddenly, the music from the jukebox comes to an abrupt stop and there are cries of dismay and a few curses. But the single note on a piano has you whipping your head in that direction.

That same man is sitting there at the piano, his friends gathered around him. You tilt your head and lean your forearms on the counter, watching as he plays a few notes you almost recognize.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will. But what a thrill."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!" sings nearly the entire bar, voices blending together perfectly.

You laugh as the pilot continues the song that you now recognize as a song by Jerry Lee Lewis. It's one of your favorites, you remember your grandfather playing it on the record machine he refused to give up.

"I laughed at love cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey. I change my mind. This love is fine."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

A soft, manicured hand grabs your own and pulls you to the bar. Dixie is smiling, mouth open, and singing along with the rest of the bar. "Kiss me, baby!" She presses a long, exaggerated kiss to your hand and you laugh loudly.

"Mmmm, it feels good!" you sing, grabbing both of her hands as she stands. It's difficult to dance together across a bar, but you make it work. "Hold me, baby!" You bring Dixie up to the edge of the bar and give her an awkward type of hug.

"I wanna love you like a lover should!" she sings with you, cheeks pressed together. "You're fine. So kind!" she pulls away and grabs your shoulders as you wiggle them, sending the two of you side to side, grinning and laughing. "Imma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

You push her away as she picks up an empty beer bottle and uses it as a microphone. That's what you've always loved about Dixie, how she was always so confident in herself.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I get nervous but it sure is fun! Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

You laugh and stop singing for the piano solo. You take a second to look at the man playing said piano. He makes it look so easy. He's smiling, surrounded by his friends, and you can't see his fingers, but you're sure they making a blur across the keys. His friends howl and holler at him, Fanboy thumps a hand on the wooden instrument. You notice that his sunglasses have slid down as he slides his fingers down the piano, creating a glissando. He smiles at his friends turned fans, clearly enjoying the attention.

You bounce to the music, continuing to watch Dixie attempt to copy what the pilot is doing. She's failing, quite terribly, but she doesn't seem to care.

"Kiss me, baby! Woo, that feels good. Hold me, baby! I wanna love you like a lover should."

You yourself get lost in the music, leaning across to also sing into the empty beer bottle with Dixie, almost like a duet. Your eyes are closed and your cheeks are red, maybe from the heat, maybe from the excitement.

What you don't spot, however, is the gaze that the piano-playing pilot gives you while he sings. He spots you halfway across the bar, how can he not? Hell, he can even hear your voice from over here. There's some kind of drawl to it, one he hasn't quite heard. But your singing is good, almost as good as his. Your friend's voice, not so much, but you don't seem to care, singing along and bouncing your head, a bar towel in one hand.

He finds himself smiling before looking down at the keys, making sure his fingers are in the right spot, even though he knows that they are.

"Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

The song finishes off with a few final notes and the bar erupts in cheers and howls, quickly turning to a chant.

"Rooster, Rooster, Rooster, Rooster!"

You tilt your head, clapping as Dixie joins the chant, holding a fist up. That can't be his real name, surely. Perhaps a callsign, like Hangman. Still, you somehow think it’s fitting for a man like him.

The pilot, Rooster, stands and does a cheesy dance. He lifts his arms and moves his hips awkwardly and you laugh at how utterly stupid it looks. You're not sure if you imagine it, but you think that this Rooster character looks directly at you and winks.

But you must be imagining it because the next moment he's leaning back and throwing his arms back before standing up straighter as the chants become faster. You laugh and even begin chanting yourself as he pumps a leg up, exclaiming. He pushes his glasses up with one hand, beer bottle in the other, before looking around the bar and smiling.

The chants die down and after a few minutes, someone plugs the jukebox back in and some song by Elton John begins to play again.

Dixie sits back down, pushing her hair out of her face. "Man, I love this town."

You nod in agreement and move to hand out a couple more beers.

A little after 2 a.m., the bar begins to empty out. You stopped selling alcohol twenty minutes ago and most patrons had left an hour before that. 5 a.m. wake-up call was the next day and you couldn't imagine it being easy. Most days you didn't wake up until after 9.

You and Penny are both closing up together. Dixie had left a long time ago with some young pilot, again. You sighed and rolled your eyes, watching her be all blushy and giggly as he pulled her out of the bar, pretending like it was her first time.

"I swear," you say to Penny, sweeping. "I'm gonna be an aunt one'a these days if she keeps this up."

Penny laughs, continuing to wipe down the bar. "You think so?"

"I know so!" you exclaim, pausing at your area by the pool table. "You should hear her. At least once a week, she brings one of those boys by and they keep at it all night long. That girl has stamina!"

Penny laughs again, loud, like she always does. She covers her mouth with her hand, waving a hand to get you to stop. “I believe you, I believe you!”

With a shrug, you get back to sweeping. “I just hope that they’re done by the time I head back.”

Your boss and friend just laughs and you sense her shaking her head. Silence fills the bar again, the quiet songs on the jukebox providing the only background music. You spot a bottle cap hidden under a table and reach down to pick it up, tossing it in a nearby trash can.

Suddenly, you hear Penny curse and turn your head towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“Amelia just texted,” she answers, setting the rag down to use both hands on her phone. “Says she’s throwing up and has a headache…”

You frown. “Aw, poor girl. Hey, you go on home, take care of her. I can finish closin’ up here.”

She looks at you, head tilted and brows furrowed. “You’re sure?”

You nod, grinning at her. “Of course! I’ve closed up enough. ‘Sides, we’re almost done.”

Penny nods and quickly walks out from behind the bar, giving you a quick hug. “Thank you so much.”

You hug her back. “‘Course.” While she heads to the back to grab her things, you finish sweeping, putting all of the dirt into a dustpan and emptying it before tying up the trash, prepping it to be thrown away after you lock up.

Penny comes back through, jacket over one arm and purse in the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

With a nod, you add before she leaves, “Get her some ginger ale! Works better than Sprite. For me, at least.”

The woman nods and thanks you before leaving. Soon, you hear her car start up and pull out of the gravel parking lot.

You’re alone. For the first time all day, you’re alone and it feels great. With a little smile, you head toward the jukebox, wanting a particular song. Finally, you see it and clap your hands a little before selecting it.

"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene," you sing with Dolly, making your way to the bar to grab the rag and wipe down everything one more time. "I'm begging you, please don't take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can."

The guitar and the drums give you a nice beat to move to, and you find yourself walking in step with the music. Years of learning to dance in elementary school and dancing at weddings really paid off.

Dolly Parton has always been one of your favorite female artists. She was your first real introduction to music when your Meemaw played her while baking your cookies. It was one of your earliest memories, one you've always cherished since her passing.

"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain. And I cannot compete with you, Jolene."

You wipe down the tables again. You've had a habit to wipe them down right before you leave, so you can make sure you've gotten everything. You reach the area by the pool tables and rearrange them, putting the pool sticks back in their correct spots and making a neat triangle in the center of the pool tables.

The door opens, and though you can't see who walked in, you know it's not Penny. Thinking it's someone who doesn't realize you're closed, you shout, "Sorry, y'all, we're closed! We're open at five tomorrow!"

Footsteps on the wooden floor echo through the mostly quiet bar. A voice calls out, "Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I think I lost my wallet."

You pause, hands resting on the furry green pool table. That voice. It's familiar yet not. You tilt your head and turn the corner to see whoever it is.

It's him. The piano player from hours ago. Rooster.

And I can easily understand how you can easily take my man. But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene

With a smile, you put on that bright, southern charm that comes so easily and so naturally. "Oh, for sure. I don't believe me or Penny have seen a wallet, but what's it look like?" You tilt your head. "I'll help you look."

He's not wearing his sunglasses anymore, they're hanging from the collar of his white shirt. His eyes look you up and down but from this distance, you can't quite see what color they are. Still, you can see the way his cheeks warm and how he clears his throat. "Thanks," is all that he says. His voice isn't quite deep, but something about it sends your heart thumping.

"What's it look like?" you ask again, heading to the bar to double-check the box that's been dubbed a lost-and-found. Basically, it was where you and Penny dumped things that had been found and not claimed yet. There were a few wallets, but those ones had been there for weeks. There were a few pairs of glasses, both reading and sunglasses. A couple of cards that Penny was waiting to cut up and even the random shoe. You had found that one, and you and Penny spent twenty minutes arguing about who could walk out while missing a shoe.

Rooster meets you at the bar, leaning his forearms on the surface. You take the box out and place it next to him. You definitely don't linger on how damn strong his arms look and how tanned they are.

"It's dark brown," Rooster explains, sifting through the box. "Got my initials stamped on it. It's thick as shit, I throw everything in it."

With a light smile, you ask, "What's your initials?"

"B.B.," he answers.

With a click of your tongue, you walk out from across the bar to search the booths and tables. You didn't run across it during your sweep or wipedown, but you could've missed it. "Those stand for somethin' other than Rooster?"

You hear him chuckle and it sends a jolt down your spine. "They stand for Bradley Bradshaw."

"Oh." You smile, putting up the chairs as you search. "See, that makes more sense."

He laughs this time. Suddenly it stops and he asks, "What the fuck is a shoe doing in here?"

With a snort, you turn to him from across the room. He's holding up said shoe, an old and beat-up white Nike Air Force 1. It's been there for a week, and you and Penny hadn't bothered to throw it away.

You answer him with an innocent smile and a shrug. "No idea. Penny found it last week, under a table. Asked her what we should do with it, she just threw it in the box."

Rooster chuckles and throws it back in. "It's not in here."

You lift another chair up and flip it over, placing it on the table. You give the man a look and say, "Help me find it then, princess."

He gives you a teasing smile and asks, "Princess?"

With a cheeky grin, you give him no reply and continue to look. You've always been a tease, ever since college. Your friends always told you how a classmate had gotten a crush on you just by one look. Whenever you met someone cute in a bar or at a party, you would give them a look, flirt with them for a few minutes, and then disappear. It wasn't something you really did on purpose (at least not all of the time), it was just something that happened.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don’t take him even though you can. Jolene, Jolene.

For the next several minutes, you and Rooster look for his wallet. You stack all of the chairs up and he searches between the booths and around on the floor.

You search near the piano, running a finger along the keys. This piano is incredibly out of tune and old as dirt, but when he played, it sounded brand new.

“Where’d you learn to play?” you ask, turning to see him by the dart board.

He meets your gaze and something in his eyes change. There’s a flash of sadness behind those hazels. You can see his eye color now, and it reminds you of acorns in early October mornings.

“My mom taught me,” he answers.

The jukebox clicks and the song changes. A Johnny Lee song plays, his voice nostalgic and comforting.

Well, I spent a lifetime lookin' for you. Single bars and good time lovers were never true. Playing a fool's game, hopin' to win. And tellin' those sweet lies and losin' again.

You smile, sweetly. “That’s sweet.”

He nods, glancing at the floor. “Yeah. Apparently my dad knew how to play and she wanted to teach me.”

“We’re y’all close?” you ask, wiping a stripe of dirt off of the instrument. It’s thinner than you thought it would’ve been.

Something in the atmosphere shifts and you look up at Rooster. He’s staring at the green dart in his hands, turning it between his fingers. His brows are furrowed and are his shoulders shaking?

“Bradley?” you ask softly, tenderly.

His head snaps up to you and he quickly says, “Call me Rooster.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause everyone else does.”

Biting your lip, you tell him, “I ain’t everyone.”

I'll bless the day I discover another heart, lookin' for love.

Finally, his face breaks into a grin, his mustache making his smile look ever better. “You know, you’ve got a pretty way of speaking.”

“Yeah?” You walk towards him, hands clasped behind your back. “What about it do ya like?”

He throws the dart at the board and it lands in the inner circle. Then he turns to face you, walking towards you. “I like the way you hold your vowels out. And how you shorten words that don’t need to be shortened.”

You smile. Many people on this side of the states have complimented your accent. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But something about it coming from him, Bradley, made it feel different. He was a pilot. An attractive one at that. Tall, blonde, dark and lean. That pornstash your mother always found sexy on Tom Selleck you now found sexy on him. The way he’d lick his lips, always getting the bottom of it wet. Your mind went to the gutter and you wondered how scratchy it would feel somewhere else.

"Where are you from?" he asks, walking closer.

"Georgia," you answer. "Small town named Pearson, it's right by Savannah."

He nods, finally stopping in front of you. He's tall and he looks down at you with a small smile. You're not so close that you're practically touching, but you're close enough to smell him. And you note that he smells like the ocean and sweat and beer. Somehow, all of those scents at once make you weak in the knees.

"How long have you been in Fightertown?"

"Little over a year."

"Have you, uh, met anyone in that year?"

With a smirk, you say, "Nah," and lift up the wallet you found under the piano bench. "Fighter pilots just don't do it for me."

Bradley's face twists into a smile of sorts and he takes the initialed wallet from your head. "What makes you think I'm a pilot?"

Walking away from him, you say over your shoulder, "Call it a hunch."

Lookin' for traces of what I'm dreaming of, hoping to find a friend and a lover. I'll bless the day I discover another heart lookin' for love.

Your nerves are on fire and you can barely feel your legs. But you still keep walking even though you know his eyes are on you. You're nearly done closing up. You just need to take the trash out and turn the lights off before locking the doors.

Part of you is excited you're closing up. It's past two in the morning, you woke up before eight and you're absolutely exhausted. You smell like beer and other various alcoholic beverages. You want to take a shower and pass out for the next nine hours.

But another part of you is upset because you know your conversation with Bradley is coming to a close.

"Do you live here?" asks Bradley, eyes following you as you take the trash up and tie it at the top. "Or are you just visiting?" He goes to the jukebox and turns it off, sensing that you're nearly done.

"I live here," you answer with a nod. "Come on, I want to go home." There's a pile of mostly empty trash bags by the door that Penny was kind enough to put there for you to grab on the way out and you move to them after grabbing your purse and your phone charger that was in the back. "Hey, don't you got early wake-up call?" You make your way towards the door, sure you look awkward carrying four garbage bags over your shoulder. Still, Bradley says nothing while you shut the lights off in descending order before walking out the door.

"Yeah," Bradley admits, holding the door open for you. He even takes the keys from your hands and locks up the doors to the bar for you.

"Thank ya," you say, breathing a sigh of relief at the warm ocean breeze that greets your face. The air smells salty and slightly fishy, but you've never wanted to smell anything more. "Well, what are you doing here still, then?"

He slowly follows you towards the dumpster at the far corner of the parking lot. Normally, you'd be nervous outside at night, but tonight, you're not by yourself. You've got a big, strong navy man to protect you. Not like you'd need it.

"I needed my wallet," he says, honestly. Then he adds, the grin in his voice audible, "Plus I'd never pass the chance to talk to a pretty lady."

"Oh, you're quite charming!" you call, tossing the bags in the dumpster, thankful trash day is tomorrow. Wiping your hands on your shorts, you make your way back to your car, noticing that he parked next to you. "You must make all the ladies swoon."

He scoffs and throws the keys across his car back to you. You catch them in your fist and dangle them around your middle finger. "Maybe. Not enough to keep them, that is."

You tilt your head, heart thumping fast and face flushed from all of this flirting. "Shame. You seem like a catch." Throwing him a grin, you open the door of your old, beat-up truck your father gifted to you the moment you turned fifteen. "Go to sleep, Bradley!" you call, starting the vehicle up.

He smiles, watching you. "Yes, ma'am."

With a small shake of your head, you turn the volume of your radio up just a bit. Some random Miranda Lambert song is playing and you back your truck up, throwing an arm over the seat to watch where you're going. When you're far enough back to clear Bradley's tailgate, you crank the wheel to the right, gravel crunching under the tires.

Bradley is in his car, but you still smile at where he was and tear out of the empty parking lot into the even emptier streets. Taking a left, you head home, exhaustion finally catching up. Your eyelids grow heavy and you yawn. Still, you don't miss the bright red taillights of Bradley's car taking off in the opposite direction of you.

With a satisfied and triumphant whoop, you beat your hands on the top of the steering wheel. Your heart is racing and suddenly your exhaustion vanishes as you recall the last twenty minutes.

Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster. What a character. Piano player, singer, flirt, yet still kind and charming. Chivalrous, almost. You have no idea how long he'll even be in Fightertown. Most people stay for a few weeks until eventually being deployed elsewhere.

You hope that he'll stop at the bar every night and lose his wallet again.

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

*

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

*

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

[sporticus1234]

Catch Me if You Can-Laws of Attraction (Part 1)

Summary: After weeks of flirting, teasing, and close calls, Tessa is ready to take the plunge, but can Gabe overcome his own worse fears and join her?

Pairing: Gabe Ricci x Main Character (Tessa Michaels)

Link to my Master-List and Other works will be added once they have been re-edited and re-uploaded.

Perma-Tags and LOA Tags: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise  @blainehellyes @mm2305 @suitfer​ @thegreentwin @pixelnutrookie​ 

I hope you all enjoy it and see you soon for some...adventures...in part 2.

__________________________________

Rather than clumsy words, it’s your action that I believe. Don’t stop. Go past the limit. Go faster. I’m going to find my heart. So catch me if you can.

-Girls Generation, Catch Me if You Can (Korean Ver.)

__________________________________

The once glittering ballroom filled with stimulating conversation, flowing bubbles of champagne, and decadent hor-dourves was now deserted and quiet, signaling the end of the extravagant weekend legal conference. As the last person Tessa was speaking to excused herself for the evening, she looked around the empty space littered with discarded champagne flutes and linen napkins, her spirits deflating at the sight. The conference ended as quickly as it began, and come Monday morning, she would be back in the office, the competition still at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

It may have been a short weekend, but Tessa was grateful for the time away from the office. The past few weeks were filled with nothing else but case after case coming one after another and nonstop talk about the competition, particularly from Martin. But for a tiny period of time, all of that vanished out of sight and out of mind. She laughed and joked with her colleagues and bosses like they were all good friends. She camped and ate smores in a beautiful forest, and she finally got her first full night of sleep since she started working at McGraw Byrne. She truly felt like she had been transported to a completely different world, one she found hesitant to leave behind for an entire year.

Stifling the yawn sneaking up on her, she left the ballroom behind, her spirits still thrumming with excitement from the evening, but her body yearning for a soak in a hot bath and some sleep in the oversized hotel bed. She was halfway across the empty lobby, gilded elevator doors in sight, when her feet came to a stop outside of the hotel’s bar. She didn’t even have to look to know exactly who was sitting in that dimly lit bar. He had a larger-than-life presence, no matter what room he was in, that was like a magnet, drawing everyone’s attention, even if he was just randomly passing by on the sidewalk.

Her tiredness completely forgotten, she hovers near the entryway and discretely watches him. He’s sitting by himself at the bar, nursing what Tessa knows is a glass of scotch on the rocks along with a basket of half-eaten chips and dip, his eyes occasionally flicking up to the large screen TV showing a basketball game taking place on the other side of the country. His jacket is discarded on the back of his chair, his tie loosened slightly and the buttons of his shirt rakishly undone at the top. Despite his disheveled, executive blowing off steam look, he is still just as handsome and attractive as he was just a short time ago when he was polished and buttoned up. Maybe even more.

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she watches him. Gabe was such a surprise when she first came to New York, and she never expected to become so charmed by him. The man has such a lavish and lively personality on the outside, but on the inside is a man driven to be the best and passionate about using his vast knowledge to help everyone. His heart is as big as his office, a welcoming, refreshing contrast to the selfishness Tessa sees too often in this line of work. They have only known each other for a short time, but every time he came around, he put a smile on her face and made her stomach flip-flop. She couldn’t explain why he has such a pleasant effect on her. Perhaps it’s the way that when she flirts with him, he flirts right back with the same energy she gives him, maybe even more. Maybe it’s the way the two of them click when they’re together. Or maybe it’s the way he continues to keep her on her toes and excite her yet still make her feel a sense of comfort and familiarity at the same time. Regardless of the reasons, the one thing she was certain of was that she didn’t want this fluttering feeling to stop. Ever.

“Of course, you would be alone at a bar,” Tessa teases as she steps towards him.

Gabe swivels his head around at the sound of her voice, his eyes immediately catching hers as she approaches him. His lips twist into a grin, his spirits lifting like they always do whenever she is around. “Am I really that predictable?”

Tessa shrugs. “Maybe a little. But you wouldn’t be the Gabe Ricci we all know and love if you weren’t.”

Gabe chuckles. “Most people wouldn’t agree with you on that statement.”

“I’m not most people,” she fires back with a wink.

No, you are most definitely not Gabe thought. “What exactly are you doing still wandering around?” He glances down towards his watch, mildly surprised to find it still somewhat early. “The cocktail party ended almost an hour ago. I figured you would be in bed like everyone else.”

“I planned on it, but then I saw this guy sitting all by himself in this empty hotel bar and thought he could use some company.”

Gabe’s eyes twinkle with delightful mischief as he takes another sip of his scotch. He was hoping the two of them could spend some more time together before the madness hit them Monday morning. “I think I know who you’re talking about. And I, for one, know that he would love to have some company, especially if the company happens to be you.”

Tessa gives him a shy smile as she slips into the bar stool next to him. An electrical, buzzing warmth fills up the space around them as butterflies flutter in her stomach at the near closeness to him, the scent of his cologne invading her senses and tempting her to come even closer. As she peruses the small menu, the lone bartender comes over and places a napkin down in front of her.

“Anything to eat or drink?”

“A Manhattan please.”

The bartender nods before turning to Gabe. “Another refill for you, sir?”

“Please,” Gabe replies. “And put her Manhattan on my tab as well.”

The bartender grabs Gabe’s empty glass and heads down to the other end of the bar. Once he’s fully out of hearing range, Tessa turns to face Gabe. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says. “I am more than capable of paying for my own drinks.”

“I know you could pay for it,” Gabe responds before his lips curl into his trademark sly smirk, “or you could let Sadie pay for it.”

“Wait, what?”

Gabe nods, his smirk growing bigger. “Consider it another partner-only secret. This conference is one of the few events Sadie lets us have more���leeway…with the company credit card. Any food or drinks we buy at this conference gets covered by the firm.”

“And something tells me you’re taking full advantage of that offer,” Tessa says.

Gabe gives her a wink. “What can I say? A good attorney knows a good offer when they see it.”

“In that case,” Tessa flags down the bartender again. “I’ll do an order of the spicy fried pickle chips with that Manhattan.” The bartender nods and disappears into a back room. Tessa turns her head, seeing Gabe looking at her with an amused expression on his face. “What’s that look for?”

Gabe chuckles, shaking his head. “Just wondering if I’m going to regret sharing that secret with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Tessa grins at him. “Your secret is safe with me. But if Sadie cuts us off or starts questioning anything on the credit card bills, I’m placing the full blame on you.”

The two of them continue to make small talk until the bartender comes back a few minutes later. He places their drinks and her basket of food down before excusing himself and shuffling into the back room once again. Tessa grabs her glass and holds it up in a toast, prompting Gabe to do the same.

“To drinks on someone else’s dime,” she states.

The two of them share a laugh as they clink their glasses together. Tessa takes a sip of her drink, the whiskey a sharp contrast to the bubbly champagne of the reception. The liquid pools like fire in her stomach and flows throughout her body, warming her up and loosening her muscles. “Best Manhattan I’ve ever had.”

Gabe cocks his eyebrow. “Is it really the best?”

“Oh, not by a long shot. But since I didn’t have to pay for it, I consider it the best in my book.”

“You really are a woman after my own heart,” Gabe replies. Tessa tucks her gaze away from him, feeling her face grow hot at the combination of the whiskey and his spell-binding charm. She takes another sip of her drink before sliding the basket of pickle chips towards him. He throws her an appreciative “thanks”, taking a chip and popping it into his mouth before continuing their conversation. “How did you enjoy the conference?”

“I really liked it,” Tessa answers. “I never got the chance to do things like this with my old law firm.”

“What? Have free food and drinks on someone else’s dime with a devastatingly handsome senior partner?”

Tessa shoves him with a laugh. “No, you complete smart ass. I meant going out to events and connecting with other people.” She absentmindedly picks the coating off a pickle chip, her mind reminiscing. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my hometown, but there was no excitement in my life. It was the same boring routine every single day.”

“Sounds like you and McGraw Byrne are a perfect match.”

Tessa nods. “Honestly, I really have you to thank. If you didn’t recommend hiring me to Sadie, I still would be stuck in the same boring routine. It sounds really sappy, but you really did change my life for the better…in more ways than one.”

The raw honesty in her voice tugs at his heartstrings, his lips twitching into another smile. He’s used to hearing those words come from his clients, but hearing those words come from her just felt…different, and it made him feel something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“You’re very welcome,” Gabe earnestly tells her. “I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t think you were a stellar attorney. You deserve to be here just as much as everyone else, and I truly mean that. McGraw Byrne needed someone like you. Hell, the legal world needs more attorneys like you.”

“What? Sappy and sentimental ones?”

“No,” Gabe says, stifling his chuckle. “I meant attorneys who are passionate about their job and passionate about connecting with people. So many attorneys don’t take the time to really understand or listen to their clients. Having someone like you, someone who actually connects with clients and goes above and beyond to help them, really does make a world of difference.” Gabe takes a pickle chip and pops it into his mouth. “But I really am happy you decided to take Sadie up on her offer to join us, even if the past few days have given you plenty of good reasons to quit.”

Tessa blows out a harsh breath, knowing exactly what Gabe was referring to. “Yeah, they have been quite…challenging.”

“I meant to ask you earlier, but how’re you holding up?”

Tessa sighs, dragging her fingertip over the rim of her glass. “Honestly, I’m still pissed that Beau stole the credit from me in front of everyone, but I should’ve expected someone to pull that stunt sooner or later.” She blinks back a tear trying to escape. “It just sucks to be the one it happens to.”

“I know, and I truly am sorry Beau pulled such a dick move on you.” He sympathetically lays a gentle hand on her bare shoulder, the touch sending comfort through her veins. “If I could’ve done something to make it better, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would’ve, but I do appreciate you not saying anything to Sadie.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t my place to tell her. Besides,” he takes his hand off her shoulder, already missing the feel of her smooth, soft skin, “the only thing it would’ve done was make you and me look bad in front of Sadie.”

“Sounds like someone has personal experience.”

Gabe runs a hand through his hair. “Happened to me once back in my early legal days, but instead of getting the credit and respect that I rightfully deserved, I got told off for being a bad ‘team player’ and trying to take someone else’s credit.”

“That’s so unfair,” she practically spits.

Gabe lets out a bitter, humorless guffaw. “Preaching to the choir on that one. You’ll find that every group will have one person who will do none of the work or the one person that will take credit for anything and everything. Fortunately for us, Beau happens to be both of those assholes wrapped up in one, so we save a lot on payroll.”

Tessa laughs weakly at his joke, the sting of Beau’s betrayal still fresh in her mind. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. It just sucks knowing that Sadie is always going to believe that Beau solved the case.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m still incredibly proud of you, even if Sadie never knows the truth.”

“You…are?” she asks, surprise etched on her face as she turns her body towards him.

“Absolutely,” Gabe says, no hesitation in his voice. “Without you, we possibly would’ve never solved it to begin with, nor would Lydia have thought to make Joey sign a prenup. But what really impressed me was how you were the only one to step up and take initiative when needed. Not many of the senior partners would go to such lengths for a teenager like Lydia, but you did.”

“I guess,” Tessa mutters. “I just hope it will be enough come Monday.”

“It will be,” Gabe assures her as he steals another pickle chip.

“Really? I figured Sadie would shove Beau to the top of the rankings after he basically saved the firm.”

“Everyone in that room knows who really saved the firm, and it wasn’t Beau,” Gabe points out. “Even if Sadie believes he did, she’s also smart enough to know that one win, no matter how big it is, isn’t enough to judge how good an attorney is or will become. Beau may have stolen one win, but you’re still the one to beat.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“Plus, you showed her tonight how well you bounce back after taking a loss.”

“What do you mean?”

“Between moot court, the pro bono cases, the vaccine trial, and everything else we’ve observed, you had a major winning streak that Beau decided to snap. Most people would sulk in their losses, but you didn’t. You showed up tonight, looking incredible might I add, and managed to put everything behind you to impress the right group of people.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” Gabe confidently replies. He reaches out and covers her hand with his, trying to ignore the tingling buzzes on his skin. “You’re a wickedly smart attorney, Tessa. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks Gabe,” she says, the goofy smile plastering on her face at his heartfelt compliment. “That…that really means a lot to me.”

“It should,” Gabe tells her, reluctantly pulling his hand away again. “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t the absolute truth. Just forget about Vegas and the Rothswells and continue onto the next case.”

Tessa nods and takes another sip of her drink as the conversation between them dies down. She may have already forgotten the Rothswells and was slowly getting over from Beau’s stolen win, but Vegas was still on her mind. It wasn’t just the city that occupied her thoughts, but rather, it was the small wedding chapel and the night she played fiancée to the man sitting next to her. That night was an intense roller coaster of emotions, desires, and confusion; it was a night where lines became blurred and questions began to arise at the nature of her and Gabe’s relationship. It was one specific little interaction that made Tessa not only sense a shift in their relationship, but triggered her to start over analyzing and over thinking every little action from their first meeting up until now.

“Nothing but the best for the most stunning woman on the Strip.”

“Alvin’s gone, you know. You don’t have to—”

He raises a finger to her lips, laying it softly against them as he gives her a smoldering look that makes her throat dry up. “What if I want to, Tessa?”

Tessa truly felt at that moment they were no longer pretending. The things he said to her that night with such conviction in his eyes and voice. The way he softly caressed and touched her with such adoration and tenderness. The way his breath tickled her lips and sent shivers throughout her body at their near-kisses. They were not things done by someone just “pretending”; no one was that good of an actor. However, despite his actions in the wedding chapel, there was one moment that made her second guess herself completely. Just as she was about to admit her feelings for him, he brusquely cut her off and completely changed the direction of the conversation. What punctuated that gut-wrenching action was him dropping her hand quickly, as if he had been burned by her touch. The cocktail of mixed signals made her head pound in dizzying confusion, and it was becoming difficult to ignore for much longer.

She glances over at Gabe, worrying her lip between her teeth and mentally debating whether or not to step into that territory of complete openness. She has a nice, working relationship with him, and she doesn’t want to risk making it awkward to be around him if he truly doesn’t feel anything towards her. On the other hand, she wants to know for her own sake of mind; she has to know if Gabe’s confusing behavior and mixed signals mean anything. They’re off the clock, away from the office, with no interruptions coming between them. It’s the perfect opportunity to air everything out, and hopefully come Monday, there would be no more confusion or misunderstandings.

“Speaking of Vegas…” Tessa mumbles, carefully avoiding his eyes. “I think we should talk.”

Gabe’s spine stiffens in alert at the sudden shift in her demeanor. “About…what, exactly?”

She takes a deep breath, knowing it was too late to steer this conversation in another direction. “About what happened at the wedding chapel.”

“Ah,” Gabe interjects, “that was some brilliant thinking on your part, with the rat and all.”

“That wasn’t the part I wanted to talk about.” She turns her head to look at him. “I wanted to talk about the whole ‘pretend’ couple in love situation.”

“What was wrong with it?” he asks her, his nerves starting to creep up on him.

“Nothing,” she quickly replies. “I was just thinking…what you said…” She takes another deep breath, preparing herself to blurt it out before she lost her nerve. “Did you ever have a moment where…you didn’t think it was pretend?”

Depends on what your answer is going to be. “What do you mean?”

“I know the whole situation was supposed to be pretend in order to get a copy of Lydia’s marriage license, but…some of the things you said…and did…” her ears grow hot as a shiver races down her spine at the memory of Gabe’s gentle caress on her wrist, the pure intimacy behind it.

“Didn’t seem like pretend?” he finishes.

“Yeah.”

“And what do you think?”

Tessa sits there silently contemplating her answer. Up until this point, Tessa never had any reason to doubt Gabe. He is a man who never makes anyone second guess his true intentions or meanings. Every word he speaks is nothing short of the truth. But his reaction on the Strip was the first time she questioned his true intentions. If Gabe did mean what he said, then why did he quickly divert the conversation and act like he couldn’t stand to be around her? Her inner conscience was waving a massive red flag in front of her, but when Gabe gripped her chin and turned her head to focus on him, she caught herself slipping back into the warm pools of his chocolate-colored orbs.

“I really hope you weren’t pretending,” she softly says, voice barely above a whisper.

Gabe feels his stomach lurch at her confession, and the corners of his mouth tug up into a small smile at her answer. Gabe wasn’t going to lie. From the minute she stepped into the office, he became fascinated with her. She was beautiful, but what caught his attention was the way she introduced herself to the others. She was the only one who stood up and spoke with such confidence and conviction about winning the partnership that he would’ve given the spot to her immediately if his name was on the building.

“That’s because I wasn’t.”

Her eyes widen. “Wh…what?”

His thumb skates over her bottom lip, gently tugging it downwards, her breath hitching at the intense, smoldering look in his eyes. “I wasn’t pretending in the wedding chapel. I truly wanted to tell you that you were the most stunning woman on the Strip because you were, and I will always think you’re the most stunning woman I will ever come across.”

“And last night?”

“I still mean it,” he tells her, taking his hand away. “I really do enjoy spending time with you, and I want to spend whatever time I have with you and only you.”

“Good.” Tessa covers his hand with hers, the electric current running between them turning into tingling shivers chasing each other up and down her spine. “Because I really, really like spending time with you too.”

The smile on his face grows bigger, turning into the most genuine one he’s ever had with someone else. Their fingers tentatively move and twist together, the air buzzing with energy just waiting to be released. A sigh of relief floods through him once he sees their hands joined together. He feared he overstepped that night in Vegas, especially since he was sharply reminded of how Tessa flirted with the fireman a few weeks ago for her eviction case. But sitting here now, their confessions out in the open, their hands joined together, made all of it real.

“So where do we go from here?”

Gabe furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“We just admitted we like each other, Gabe,” Tessa states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The question is, what comes next? Are we together? Do we see where this goes?”

Gabe bit the inside of his cheek at her question, the bliss from earlier now getting replaced with dread and guilt. He knows exactly what he wants to do next. He wants to invite her to his hotel room tonight, spend hours tangled in the silk sheets together, then wake up and do it all again tomorrow morning. He wants to take her out to dinner tomorrow night and treat her to the most decadent food in the city while he teases and touches her until she can no longer bear it. He wants to be openly affectionate with her in the office…and maybe do a few more things behind the closed doors of his office. But he can’t, and he knew the exact reasons why.

The first reason was the more obvious one. She is currently in the competition for a junior partnership, and he is the one overseeing it and potentially making the final decision on who takes his former position. They are co-workers, and while Sadie has no real binding rule that co-workers cannot date or see each other outside of work, Gabe knows there will always be a cloud of doubt and speculation hovering over Tessa if the office discovers they are seeing each other and she wins the junior partnership. Gabe was already beating himself up for what happened between her and Beau; he would never be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of ruining her reputation and the potential she has at becoming the next great attorney. How could he look himself in the mirror every morning if this blows back up in their faces?

But the less obvious reason was a hidden secret, one that he hasn’t shared with anyone else. It was the one reason that stopped him from taking her up to his penthouse in Vegas and doing all the things he fantasizes about doing with her. It was the one reason for the walls Gabe built up over the years that no one else has been able to break down. It was the one reason that prevented Gabe from crossing the lines he wanted to cross. As easy as it would be to cross them tonight with nothing stopping them, he knows he has to make the tough decision, not only to protect her, but also to protect himself. He just hopes it doesn’t change anything between them.

“As much as I would love for us to be together,” he runs his thumb soothingly over her knuckles, already feeling guilty for what he was about to say to her, “I don’t think it would be wise to pursue it.”

“O…oh,” the smile on her face falters at his stinging rejection.

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” Gabe quickly assures her.

“Sure feels that way,” she blurts out with a bitter laugh.

Gabe sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re stunning Tessa, and whatever would happen between us would be so goddamn mind-blowing, because I know exactly what I’d do with a girl like you.”

As much as his rejection stings, the dark tendrils of desire twist and twirl together inside at the sound of that highly promising and exciting invitation, the rush of desire making her shift in her seat at the tingling sensation. However, his tone tells her he was about to say one little three-letter word that was going to take the invitation back and make the rejection even worse.

"But...?"

Gabe shakes his head and averts his eyes from the pain blooming in hers. “We can’t act on it. I can’t act on it.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I…can’t,” he relents. He untangles their fingers and pulls his hand back to his side of the bar, no matter how painful it is for him to do so. “You already saw how low Sadie’s own blood would go to push himself ahead. Just imagine how low the others would go if they suspected—”

“You and I were seeing each other?”

Gabe nods, a small twinge of relief pricking his heart at her understanding. “Opportunities like this bring the worst out in people.”

“Considering I just had firsthand experience on how shitty people can be, I do understand it.” She takes another drink of her Manhattan, the sting now turning into simmering annoyance. “What I don’t understand is why us being together is now such a big deal for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, you didn’t seem too concerned with people seeing us together or what they thought when we went to Hoi On and that business dinner you specifically invited me to,” Tessa shrugs. “I’m just curious about the change of heart all of a sudden.”

“I didn’t have a change of heart. Those situations were entirely different.”

“Different how?”

Gabe pauses for a second to gather his thoughts. He had to tread lightly going forward, or else any chance the two of them had with each other in the future was going to be destroyed. “When I invited you to Hoi On, the other associates weren’t in the office. I knew Aislinn wasn’t going to say anything to Sadie, so no one was going to question why I brought you there.”

“And the business dinner?”

“It truly was supposed to be a business dinner and an opportunity for you to network yourself,” Gabe admits. “I didn’t know beforehand that he was going to cancel on me, and as far as the office is concerned, no one knows that he canceled on me, so everyone still suspects the three of us had that business dinner.”

“But then…oh…” Tessa trails off, another wave of disappointment crashing into her chest. “I get it.”

“You do?”

She nods. “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me. I get it. The senior associate and the top senior partner being seen together would hurt your image with the other partners.”

A tinge of frustration punches his gut. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you to join me at the lake.”

“Good point,” Tessa tells him. “You certainly didn’t mind taking me out to the lake last night with Sadie and the other associates sitting around.”

“That was different too,” Gabe bluntly responds. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me to understand,” she sighs, exasperated.

“There’s no point in tell you,” Gabe shoots back. “You’re intelligent and observant, Tessa. You know exactly why we can’t pursue…whatever there is between us.”

“The only thing standing in the way of pursuing whatever is between us is you,” Tessa points out.

He runs his hands through his disheveled hair again. “It’s not that I want to stand in the way of us. There’s so many reasons on why we shouldn’t pursue this.”

“Well, so far, you haven’t given me one that we can’t find a way to work around. So please enlighten me, Mr. Ricci,” she crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a hard stare. “Is your reasoning really about the partnership and my reputation, or is it about something more?”

As Gabe sits there in silence, Tessa’s mind flashes back to their previous interactions. Last night was the most unguarded she has seen Gabe since she started working at McGraw Byrne. The business dinner was the first time the two of them ever got physically close to each other. Vegas was the first time the two of them were fixing to jump across those boundaries and become one. But each time, Gabe pulled back, and his action spoke volumes. And with the way Gabe was currently avoiding meeting her gaze head on and how his fingers are tightly gripping his empty scotch glass makes the light bulb go off in her head. There was another reason Gabe was hiding, one that has to do entirely with himself. She just has to hope that she is important enough for him to be honest with her.

“Well?”

Gabe sighs. “It really is about the partnership,” he lies, firmly keeping his gaze locked on the bar top. “The partnership is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you shouldn’t waste it or throw it away.”

The air turns icy and frigid at his words. Tessa grabs her clutch off the bar top, knowing there was no more reason for her to still be around. “You may be able to bullshit other people, Gabe, but you’re not going to bullshit me. You and I both know this is more than just the partnership, and out of respect for your privacy, I’m not going to pry. Only you can make the decision to share it with me, but until you do, I think it’s best to forget whatever we feel for each other.”

Tessa gives his hand a soft pat before downing the rest of her drink and sliding off the bar stool. Before she could go far, Gabe’s hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist.

“Tessa…”

“Don’t worry about it, Gabe,” she says, gently prying his fingers off her wrist. “I’m honestly a little hurt and disappointed that you can’t be honest with me, but I’m not mad at you.” She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I really do like you, Gabe, but I also like and respect myself too much to go after someone who isn’t as crazy about me as I am about them, nor will I go after someone who keeps pulling back when I want to get closer.”

“That’s not—"

She ignores his plea, digging into her clutch and pulling out a platinum-looking card. “You know where to find me when you make up your mind and have an answer for me, but don’t expect me to be waiting around forever for it.”

She places the card down on the bar top; with a sad smile, she brushes past him and heads out of the hotel bar, the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Gabe watches her figure retreat until she disappears behind the gilded elevator doors.

“Dammit!” he slams a fist against the bar top. The empty glasses jump a little at the impact, but what catches his attention was the quick flash of light reflected on the platinum card as it jumped into the air. Gabe reaches out and slides it towards him, his spirits deflating even more when he sees what she left.

The spare key to her room.

To anyone else, it may be just a room key, but Gabe knows that it is so much more meaningful than that. It symbolizes the key to her heart and the key to their future together, a key that would only work for a short amount of time until Tessa closes both of those doors on him. The decision to walk through those open doors was entirely in his hands, but before he could do that, he has to make one other decision. The time had come for him to do the one thing he has avoided doing for years, the one decision he found easy to avoid until tonight.

It was time for him to confront himself and his fears.

__________________________________

This was going to go up a lot sooner, but because my job decided to go through some technology changes recently, it meant something that previously worked is now broken and no longer works. Unfortunately, that was me this time around, so my usual break times where I work on stories was used to help fix what someone else broke. 

Sorry about the delay, but I really do anticipate part 2 being uploaded soon, much sooner than LOA coming back from its hiatus.

For all of you who have read this story and made it this far, thank you so much for your support! It means more to me than you could ever imagine!

I love you all so much!

Second Chance Tagging in case Tumblr becomes Tumbroke again:  @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise  @blainehellyes @mm2305 @suitfer​ @thegreentwin @pixelnutrookie​

[tryingmyves]

Love Me Right

Ask:  hi hi i’m sliding in the inbox 👀 congrats on 60 followers !! you deserve it 😔💗💗 could i request #2 with dabi ? if you don’t write for him, just let me know and i’ll change it ! tysm bb 💓 @madeofsaltiness​

thank you so much for the request babe! i hope you like this! i haven’t written for Dabi before, so hopefully this doesn’t seem too out of character - but i liked the challenge. also this is the first time i’ve written smut sooooo 👀 the prompt is italicized

PAIRING: Dabi x Y/N

c/w: alcohol, possessive!Dabi, villian!Y/N, smut-smut golf 

a/n: like i said - this is my first time writing for Dabi so i’d really appreciate any feedback anyone has  ☼

Send me a request! ► 60 Followers event

You never intended to become a villain, but you have never been enamored with heroes the way the whole of society is. You had decided a long time ago that you were content being just another cog in the machine of the world. You work a dead-end job at a run-down bar near the city’s red light district on nights and weekends and spend your days sleeping off your hang-overs from the night before. The Copper Queen was a shithole, if you were honest. But the alcohol was strong and free since you were a bartender. Moreover, you make decent money off tips from nervous perverts who come in to get drunk before wandering over a few more blocks to purchase some company for the night. Aware of your regular patrons’ personalities, you thought the true heroes of the world may be the working girls near the bar. In your opinion, heroes get too much credit. Society isn’t better now that everyone has quirks - it’s just different. There’s still inequity, extortion, and a load of other shit that every-day people have to deal with. The heroes don’t help with that, not unless it was flashy enough to garner some publicity. Maybe if you had been blessed with a better quirk you’d think differently; give the glamorous life of heroics a try. But you were just a mockingjay - able to copy the phonetical diction and vernacular of those you hear in person. You are great at impressions, but typically you went through life without acknowledging your quirk. Although, occasionally you’d entertain yourself by mocking some of your patrons - they just made it too easy. It’s incredibly off-putting to hit on someone only for them to sarcastically flirt back in your own voice. You’ll never tire of the reactions you get from your little trick.

It was just another Saturday night at the Queen. The lights low, music loud, and air filled with the smell of smoke and stale beer. A couple of regulars sat on the far end of the bar, while others played billiards or darts. The bell on the door chimes, announcing the arrival of an unfamiliar face accompanied by a gust of chill air. He strides forward to your bar, not concerned with platitudes, “Whiskey, neat. Make it a triple.”

You’re unbothered by his attitude, men clothed in faux toughness came through the Queen’s doors daily. You simply grab a glass and place it in front of him, fetch the whiskey bottle from behind you, and rotate it once around your arm before catching it by the neck and pouring his shot. You’re not a show pony, but cheap tricks like this often increased your tips, and cash was cash.  

You slide the tumbler forward to your new patron, leaning forward against the bar slightly, ensuring he’d catch a glance of your cleavage, accentuated by your low cut top, “Seven dollars, hun.” He is admittedly hot, his dark hair and purple scars make his blue eyes even more striking. And from the few words he spoke you could hear his voice was deep and raspy. Typically, the men who frequent The Copper Queen are the types you avoid, but this one has you intrigued. 

He slaps a $10 onto the counter, “Keep the change. And the names Dabi, princess.” The word princess was more of a hiss. He takes a deep drink from the glass you placed in front of him, “I don’t do pet names.”

You grab the $10 from the counter and turn around to place it into the register, already rethinking your first impression of this Dabi. “I don’t do pet names, princess.” You mock under your breath, it was too early in the evening to deal with his shit. 

“What the hell was that?” he snarls.

You didn’t intend for him to hear you; you didn’t even intend to say the comment aloud. Maybe those shots you took when you opened tonight had done more than you thought. “Don’t recognize your own voice, Dabi?” You say in your own voice, emphasizing his name.

He’s staring at you, jaw clenched and brows knitted together in annoyance, but slight curiosity. “Say something else, like me,” he orders.

“I’m not some bitch, I don’t do tricks,” you retort.

He raises an eyebrow, “You just did when you were trying to get a tip from me.” He holds another $10 up between two long fingers. You see the burn scars present on his face and neck extend down his forearms like sleeves, stopping just past his wrists.

You extend your hand and once he places the crumpled bill in your palm you say, “Hi, I’m Dabi, I don’t do pet names, and my social skills are shit. I tip well though.”  Your voice gone, now replaced with a perfect replica of his. 

His eyebrows raise, shifting from their furrowed position, and his jaw relaxes into an amused smirk. “What’s your name, princess?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats, finishing off the remaining whiskey in his glass. He looks like he is considering something as he drinks and then he speaks again, “what time do you get out of here? I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

“And what makes you think I want to meet them?” you challenge.

“Because you want to leave with me tonight,” he answers with a wicked smile.

And he was right. Something about his abrasive attitude had you hooked, and he didn’t back down when you responded with a similar temperament. “2AM.. You’ve got a couple of hours to kill,” is all you say before turning around, walking to the other end of the bar to get more drinks for your other patrons.

____________________________

  The memory of your first encounter with Dabi comes to your mind. You shake your head with a sad laugh. What the fuck had you been thinking? You had left with him that night and met his friends: The League of Villains. Somehow you ended up as a new recruit. You had always thought your quirk was a bit useless compared to things like super strength or fiery power, but the League of Villains saw its potential. Between Toga’s ability to look like anyone whose blood she got her hands on and your ability to mimic voices, doors were opening left and right for the LoV. 

Over the last three months you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with your new friends. The Copper Queen essentially a villain bar now and one of their unofficial hideouts. You and Dabi had even started dating. At first it was just sex, hot, mind-numbing sex, but nothing more. That was until Dabi saw another new recruit trying to make a move on you. He put an end to that real quick. He strode over to you, possessively throwing an arm around your shoulder, growling “she’s mine,” at the man who was trying to flirt with you. His eyes sparking, a warning of the blue flames to come if the recruit didn’t scram. The warning was more than enough, and he left the two of you quickly. 

At the time, his words made you happy, but now they felt like a prison. She’s mine. Dabi isn’t a jealous type, but he is possessive. And he often misread your friendly interactions with others as something more than they were. You had ignored it for a while, but lately, it felt like you were suffocating. Your irritation finally boiling over in a fight four nights ago when you yelled at him in front of a number of other LoV members, “You’re fucking smothering me! It’s like I can’t even breath near other people or you think I’m going to fuck them!” You’d stormed out after that, not waiting around for a reaction to your outburst. 

You’ve been hiding out in your apartment since then, unable to go to work, knowing the people you’re avoiding are likely there. You hadn’t talked to Dabi since then either. Neither of you were the type to apologize first and you were too stubborn to let him win. Toga had texted you a few times since the incident but you hadn’t responded, unsure of what to say. You’re watching TV in your living room when there’s a knock at the door. “Toga, I promise I’m alive - I just want to be alone,” you shout, heaving yourself off the couch and meandering towards the door. You fling it open, expecting to find the school girl and her space buns, but instead find Dabi. As you’re deciding whether or not you’re just going to shut the door in his face he strides forward.

“I’m done with this bullshit,” he declares, hoisting you off the ground and into his arms. He spins you around, shoving your back against your front door and pushing it closed. He smashes his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth, keeping you pinned between him and the door. The initial surprise fades quickly and you give into your desires, wrapping one arm around his neck and bringing the other up to grab a fistful of his hair; you cross your ankles behind his back bringing yourself closer to him and securing your place. His kisses are sloppy and forceful, his tongue fighting with your own for dominance, neither of you willing to surrender. You can feel his cock through his jeans, already hard and grinding into you. You pull his head backwards by the fistful of hair in your hands, separating his lips from yours, desperate for air. Despite your grip, he brings his face forward again, this time kissing your collarbone, sucking bruises into your skin. One of his hands holding you up by your ass, the other has worked its way under your shirt grabbing your breast and rubbing circles over your nipple with a calloused thumb. His long tongue licks a stripe up your neck to your ear, before he bites down on your earlobe. “We’re done fighting. I love you,” he rasps, his breath making goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

“If you’re gonna love me make sure that you do it right,” is all you can get out before his lips are back on yours, your bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Dabi seems to take your answer as a challenge, standing up right and spinning around. He carries you to your bedroom and only separates himself from you when he throws you on to your bed.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands before he starts removing his own.

You do as he says, but not quickly enough. You are just getting to your shorts when he pushes you onto your back. He hooks his fingers under the waistband and strips them off of you with force, before crawling between your legs. He bites at your thighs, littering them with a trail of kisses, as he works his way to your core. He murmurs a soft, “missed you,” before licking a slow stripe up your folds. A breathy gasp leaving your lips as he continues lapping at your cunt. He’s got your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand coming up to rub vigorous circles against your clit and the other massaging the breast he neglected while he had you pinned against the door. 

“Nng, you’re already so wet for me,” he hums into your folds.

Moans of pleasure escape your throat, even though you were angry at him you had missed him the whole time. You had grown so accustomed to his touch, it made you ache to go so long without it. “Dabi, please,” you beg.

“Not yet, princess,” he coos. He repositions himself, bringing his face to yours to shower you in kisses once more. His hand shifts, still thumbing at your clit he slides two long fingers into you. You buck your hips into him, a sigh of pleasure spilling out of your mouth and into his. He swallows your noises hungrily, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and can feel the heat inside of you building already. He adds a third finger, picking up the pace of his thrusts. His other hand comes up to grab you by the throat and you’re on the verge of tears. He spreads his fingers out inside you and you feel yourself come undone around him, a strangle scream of pleasure spilling from your throat.

Your head is in a daze, still coming down from your orgasm, but you can see through unfocused eyes Dabi licking your juices off each of his fingers. Before you can even catch your breath he flips you onto your stomach. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you onto your knees so your ass is in the air. You can’t even ask him to wait before he’s thrusting into you, his cock burying itself in your walls.

“Ahhh, fuck Y/N,” he moans, slapping your ass.

Your knees are shaking and you can barely see past the tears spilling from your eyes. You were still riding out your first orgasm and Dabi was already pushing you towards a second. You know the overstimulation is punishment for the scene you caused the other day, but Dabi just can’t help himself. Since the two of you got together, the longest you had gone without sex was two days. He never cared what time it was, where you were, or what time of the month it was, he just couldn’t resist you. He snakes an arm under you, grabbing you by the neck and bringing you up so your back rests against his scarred chest. His other arm comes around your waist, his hand going back to your bundle of nerves that was already so sensitive.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he whispers, each word punctuated by the thrust of his cock deeper inside you.

“Ahh - I want.. I want you to come inside me!” you all but scream, hardly able to form a coherent sentence. 

His tongue glides across the outside of your ear, “As you wish.” He plunges his dick into you deeper still, hitting that special spot that only he seems capable of finding. You clench around him, overtaken by ecstasy once more, pornographic screams of pleasure filling your room. Between your sounds and your walls constricting around him, Dabi falters, his steady movements becoming sloppy as he nears his high. He pumps into you once more before bursting, spilling his seed inside your messy cunt.

He releases his grasp on you, letting you fall to your bed again in bliss. The both of you lay next to each other, breathless and sweaty. He places a gentle kiss on your shoulder and throws an arm over you.

“I don’t want to fight with you again,” he whispers.

You roll over to face him, snuggling in closer. “Then don’t,” is all you say, placing a quick peck on his lips before settling into your bed.     

[falling-pages]

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

-

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

-

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

-

TW: Drinking

-

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

-- - -- -- - -- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

[evafrechette]

It’s a Match

↠ yoongi x jimin | smut | hookup au | 18+ | 3.4K

↠ Summary: Loneliness can make you do questionable things. Like signing up to a dating app to suck the cock of a stranger.

↠ Warnings: deep throating, public blowjobs, cum sharing, kind of a social media au - but not, drunk Yoongi, flirting, masturbation, gagging.

Yoongi never thought he'd be desperate enough to download the app on his phone, but here he was at 11:37 on a Friday night, finger hovering over the install button.

"Ahhh fuck it.."

He clicked and watched as the app downloaded and installed on his phone. He never thought it would get to this point. He'd been single for years. Preferring his own company, he never found it necessary to date. People annoyed him, too loud, too intrusive, too manipulative. So he remained alone. But 4 years is a long time to be on your own and he was starting to grow tired of his own hand. Plus he'd watched evey fucking video there was on his favourite porn site a year ago. That should have been the sign he needed to get laid, but his dumb ass wallowed in misery for another 12 months and that's why he's here now, creating a profile in the hopes of getting fucked this weekend.

A frown formed on Yoongi's face, he had been scrolling through profiles for the last 30 minutes and hadn't matched with anyone. He knew it was because he was being incredibly picky, swiping left on nearly every single profile he'd come across. He wasn't gonna get his dick sucked carrying on like this. He swiped left on a profile of a man in his 40s - already starting to bald, arms wrapped around a girl half his age - when his eyes landed upon the profile of a young man.

Yoongi was intrigued. The man had the prettiest face Yoongi had ever seen, beautiful plush lips pulled into a seductive smile, with his blond bangs hanging over his eyes. Yoongi clicked to view the profile in full, Jimin - the beautiful man's name was Jimin. He used emojis in his profile, which made Yoongi let out a frustrated groan. He hated emojis, too childish. He continued to read the profile and decided that the two of them were too different and even though the man was beautiful he would swipe left, like he had been all night. Maybe it was an accident or maybe Yoongi's subconscious wanted those plush lips around his cock, because instead of swiping left he swiped right.

He put the phone down and got up to make a drink. He shouldn't have a coffee this late, but apparently he was living recklessly tonight. With the steaming hot drink in his hand he climbed back onto his bed. He took a sip of the dark hot liquid when he heard the ding of a notification. He cautiously leaned over and grabbed the phone, swiping away his lock screen. He could see that he had been notified of a match, so he quickly opened the app, curious as to which one of the very small pool of men he'd swiped right on that would like him back. Yoongi could feel his cheeks starting to heat up. He didn't expect to match with the blond with the lips to die for. Not only that, but the man had messaged him too.

Yoongi couldn't tell him the truth, he WAS going to swipe left, what the fuck happened with that anyway.

Yoongi choked on his coffee, Jimin looked like an angel, but an angel wouldn't talk that way. How the hell does he respond to that? Does he even want to respond to that? He placed his coffee on the side table and dragged his hand through his hair. If he didn't take this opportunity his blue balls would actually kill him. Well fuck, his response just made him sound like the world's most pathetic asshole.

Yoongi checked the time, it was quite early in the morning now. The coffee had helped wake him up, but the prospect of meeting with the cute man had him feeling even more awake than what was humanly possible. The two of them talked for the next few hours. Sharing stories of their worst dates, childhood pets, who was more powerful Superman or Ironman and their favourite songs. Yoongi finally said goodnight and put his phone on the charger. They had agreed to met at Jimin's favourite bar the 'Hit List' at 8pm that night. Seventeen hours for Yoongi to work himself up into a worried hot ass mess. Fucking great. And yet as he stared up at the ceiling a small smile broke out on his face.

Yoongi spent his Saturday doing everything he possibly could to distract himself from his date that evening. Was it a date? Do you call meeting some random off the internet to possibly fuck a date? He was too old for this shit. He rearranged his vinyl collection, read a decent chunk of his new book and practiced a few new songs on his guitar. Once the sky had turned a beautiful shade of orange and pink Yoongi knew he had to stop stalling and get his ass ready. He took an extra long shower, debating on whether to do some manscaping (since all the young kids do it these days) before deciding not to. He liked his bush, and if pretty boy wasn't a fan well tough shit for him.

He teamed his black and white shirt with a pair of black jeans ripped at the knee, a leather jacket and finished it off with a few pieces of jewellery. With one last look in the mirror Yoongi slid his phone and wallet into the pocket of his jeans and left his apartment. Just as he stepped into the lift his phone pinged. It was a message from Jimin.

*******************

Jimin is sitting at the bar when Yoongi arrives. He's deep in conversation with the bartender, so Yoongi stands by the entrance awkwardly looking around. It's a nice place, very quiet and intimate. It's dark, a few low hanging lights scattered around and tealight candles sitting in a whisky glass on each table. To his right is a large floor to ceiling window, surrounded by a mix match of old leather chairs. There is a faint smell of smoke in the air. Oddly this smell starts to calm Yoongi down, it reminds him of his grandfather. Okay, now he's nervous again. Thinking of his grandfather at a time like this?

"I'm a fucking mess." he mutters to himself as he walks over to the bar.

"Uhh sorry to interrupt, Jimin right?"

The blond turns his head and smiles, he is really more beautiful in real life Yoongi thinks to himself. He's wearing a black shirt with one too many buttons undone, his hair parted in the middle falling gracefully to each side framing his angelic looking face.

"Mmm that's right and you are?"

Um what?! Fuck, Yoongi knew he made a mistake by coming here. Ahh fuck, why did he have to make that stupid profile? He loved Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2, he could have easily watched it 100 more times.

"Relax cutie, I'm just playing, you should have seen your face," a giggle escaped from Jimin's lips. "Nice to meet you Yoongi." he stood up and extended his hand out to shake. Yoongi quickly wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and returned the handshake. Jimin's hand was engulfed in Yoongi's. He looked down and couldn't help but smile at the scene. Jimin's hands were so petite compared to his. It was a rather lovely sight.

"Order yourself a drink and we'll go sit over there." he pointed to the leather chairs Yoongi has been eyeing up earlier. He ordered an Irish Mule for himself and a Negroni for Jimin. He carried the drinks to the table, while Jimin followed closely behind. A little too close Yoongi thought. He could smell his perfume starting to mix with the smoke smell. It was a delicious combination.

The first half an hour was straight up torture for Yoongi. Even though the two of them had spent the night messaging each other it was different once he was sitting face to face with the most stunning man in all of Seoul. Yoongi avoided eye contact, mumbled and laughed dryly at Jimin's jokes. He was well and truly fucking this entire thing up.

Jimin huffed "You don't have to stick around you know, you can leave whenever you want."

Yep. He had fucked this up.

"Uhh it's not that," Yoongi starts to bite at his thumb nail "Jimin, I'm terrible at this. People stress me the fuck out, I haven't been laid in four years, I don't like leaving my apartment, you are lovely, fantastic even and that's making me even more nervous."

Jimin played with the hoop in his ear while looking directly at Yoongi, he tilted his head to the side "How can I help you relax? I thought we clicked last night?"

They did

"I'm sorry I make you nervous, I can't help it that I'm so cute." Yoongi finally looked into Jimin's eyes and they burst into laughter.

"It's not your fault. Fuck it, I need another drink . . or five that will help." he rolled his eyes before waking back to the bar.

With a few more drinks in him Yoongi was relaxed, he could feel the whiskey warming up his body. The heat in his stomach though, he was sure that was because of the attractive man sitting in front of him. The discomfort had finally vanished and instead a mellowness had fallen over the two.

"I've always liked older men." Jimin purred, his delicate small fingers, adorned with multiple silver rings, brushing against the now half empty glass.

"Aiisshh I'm only two years older than you!" Yoongi huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, but you act like you're nearly 60.” Jimin let out a hearty laugh, his eyes turning into crescents, cheeks plump and slightly pink. He slapped the table causing their glasses to shake. Yoongi quickly grabbed his to prevent it from spilling.

"It's not that funny." he didn't want to admit it, but the blond's laugh was hypnotic, he could watch Jimin laugh for hours and never tire of it.

Jimin straightened up, fingers now tracing the rim of the glass "I bet you don't fuck like an old man though."

Yoongi gulped and looked directly into Jimin's brown eyes, gone was the playful light, it was now replaced with desperate firey lust. He knew what the outcome of this date could be, and yet he was still nervous. He could feel his heart starting to race, his breath becoming faster. "Aaahh shit" Yoongi thought to himself as his left hand started to twitch, the blond's smell - a mix of orange blossom and patchouli was becoming overwhelming, he needed to calm down, he'd cum within seconds if he didn't get his shit under control.

"Heh, well I guess you'll find out later huh?"

Jimin reached over and ran his soft fingers over Yoongi's hand, playing with the bracelets that sat around his wrist.

"Why don't I find out now?"

Yoongi's friends love roasting him for his personality change when drunk. All of a sudden the quiet reserved man becomes giggly and loud. Cracking terrible jokes and singing at the top of his lungs. Sober Yoongi would never dare dream of taking a stranger to the bathroom to jerk off. Drunk Yoongi though? Try to stop him.

"Mmm Jiminshi are you sure?”

Jimin giggled at this "You are SO cute" he continued to draw his fingers over Yoongis hands "Of course I'm sure, do you wanna go back to mine? Or we could go to yours if you're more comfortable with that..."

Without thinking Yoongi stood, grabbed the blonds arm and pulled him up. They walked towards the exit, but before descending the stairs they took a left and made their way into the restroom. Once inside Yoongi pushed Jimin against the door and started kissing at his neck. "Fuck! Jimin, there is no way in hell I can wait to get back to my place, I need to feel you now." Yoongi whispered between kisses.

Yoongi leaned down and kissed his exposed chest, thank fuck Jimin had left those top buttons open. They had been torturing Yoongi all night long, but now he was thankful for it. Jimin's skin was so soft and it faintly smelled like cherry blossom lotion but he wanted more. He was desperate for more. Jimin ran his hands through Yoongi's hair and grabbed hard. Small moans escaped his lips, which drew Yoongi even crazier. He undid the buttons on his shirt and stood back. Jimin had the body of a god. Perfectly sculptured, with beautiful brown nipples begging to be sucked on. Who was Yoongi to deny god his wish?

Jimin let out a squeak when Yoongi ran his tongue over his nipples, hungrily licking and sucking at them. His right hand found it's way to the bulge in Jimin's pants and he pressed his palm down onto it. Jimin was now starting to get louder which made Yoongi smirk, he lightly nipped on Jimin's nipple before standing up and leaning in to sloppily kiss Jimin on those perfect, perfect lips, the taste of spice and bitterness still lingering.

"Uuuhhh Hyung, please touch me."

"That's what I'm doing Jimin."

"No you asshole, I want to feel you properly, get my fucking dick out." Yoongi stopped and looked at Jimin, slightly taken back by the tone of his voice. But he just smiled back - a wicked smile.

Yoongi got onto his knees and began undoing the zip of Jimin's pants. He pulled them down to his ankles, he then drew his hands up Jimin's legs, enjoying how smooth they were. He palmed Jimin's cock through his underwear eliciting a moan from the man above him. Yoongi pressed his face into Jimin's clothed cock. He took a deep breath, Jimin smelled wicked, his arousal mixed with body lotion was rousing. He alternated between sucking and licking on the cock trapped behind Calvin Klein underwear. He repeated this action a few more times before finally removing the now very damp briefs.

Jimin wasn't the biggest cock Yoongi had ever seen, but he was thick and absolutely smooth. He stroked his long fingers over his chiseled abs, along Jimin's length and then down to his balls which he cupped in his hand, massaging back and forth. He let go and brought his hand to his mouth, running his tongue over his entire palm. It was so fucking dirty and Jimin shuddered at the sight. He reached back up and gripped Jimin's cock in his now saliva covered hand. He drew his hand up and down at a frantic pace. He was too worked up to go any slower, but Jimin didn't seem to mind by the noises he was making. Oh shit, he was being too loud now. They'd get caught and thrown out or even worse the cops called.

"Shit Jimin, you need to be quiet or someone will hear us.”

“Mmm Yoongi I don't think I can cutie, why do you think I said we should get out of here."

Yoongi huffed and slowed his hand down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jimin's briefs, so he picked them up, stood and shoved them in Jimin's mouth.

"That should shut you up.... Is that okay? I can take them out if you don't like it.”

Jimin shook his head and moaned around the underwear. His mouth was stretched open and drool already starting to pool at the corners. What a fucking beautiful thing to witness. Pleased with himself Yoongi got back on his knees and kissed the tip of Jimin's cock. His tongue played with the slit, circling it before he slowly kissed down each side of his shaft. He then licked the base to tip, never taking his eyes off Jimin's. They both looked so fucked already, pupils blown out, flushed cheeks and lips swollen from the rough kissing earlier.

He started pumping slowly, wanting to tease Jimin a little, the blond was impatient though and bucked his hips into Yoongi's fist, letting him know he wanted and desperately needed it faster. Yoongi let out a small chuckle and started to move his hand at a pace the gorgeous man would enjoy. Muffled moans of pleasure let Yoongi know he had found the magic speed. He continued like this for a few minutes before letting go and taking Jimin's cock in his mouth. Oh he tasted good - of course he did he was perfect in every way why would this be any different? Yoongi hollowed his cheeks as he bobbed up and down on Jimin's length, taking it deep before pulling up and letting go with a 'pop'.

He took hold of Jimin's cock and rubbed his lips all over the head, spreading precum all over his lips and chin. He felt like such a slut, but he was loving every moment of it. Yoongi closed his eyes and slowly buried Jimin's entire cock in his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. He moaned around the feeling, this was what he had needed. To feel stuffed by a pretty cock attached to a pretty man. Jimin was squirming above him, his panting and moans muffled by the briefs in his mouth, but there was no doubt he was in ecstasy just like the cock starved brunette. Yoongi felt petite hands fist into his hair and start pulling and pushing trying to take some control of the situation, Yoongi slowed down and allowed Jimin to start fucking into his mouth.

With each of Jimin's thrusts his grunts became louder as he was getting closer to his orgasm. Jimin wasn't the only one getting close, after having practically become a born again virgin, Yoongi's head was dizzy with arousal and he wasn't sure how much longer he would last, his grip on Jimin's thighs tightening, bound to leave light marks the next morning. He closed his eyes and could feel the heat from his stomach rise throughout his body, his muscles tensing as he felt his release. The wet patch in Yoongi's pants made him feel absolutely filthy. He came just from sucking someone's cock? Before he had too much time to start mulling over how much of a slut he is, Jimin spills his load inside Yoongi's hot mouth. He thrusts hard a few times causing the cum to spill out of Yoongi's mouth and dribble down his chin, landing on the floor.

Jimin hisses as he slowly removes himself from Yoongi's mouth, he leans down and Yoongi yanks the underwear out of his mouth before smashing his lips against the blonds. He doesn't care that his mouth is still full of Jimin's cum, he tastes so good he wants him to experience the intoxicating taste too. When their lips part Jimin stands to put his softening cock away. Yoongi stands with him and looks around the room, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm thanks for that, that was .. uhh really good."

Jimin's bewitching smile returns "Yeah, that was amazing cutie can't say I've ever had my underwear shoved into my mouth though, but there is a first time for everything. Come here and I'll treat you good too."

"Well um, no it's okay. Honestly. I may have cum already." he sheepishly replies, still avoiding any damn eye contact.

A small "oh" left his pouty lips "well I'm glad I could have been of assistance."

The two stood awkwardly for a while before Jimin held Yoongi's hand and walked him over to the sink. He made the older man sit on the bench while he cleaned up all the mess he had made. Yoongi's heart couldn't stop beating. There was no need for Jimin to be so nice after what they had just done, but here he was doing something Yoongi actually felt was more intimate than painting the walls of his throat with his cum.

"Ah there ya go, now you can go back into the real world without anyone suspecting a thing.”

They walked outside together in silence, Yoongi had never had a hook up before. Do you crack jokes? Profess your love? Or just act like what happened never did? His mind was a million miles away when soft fingers were suddenly stroking his cheek.

"Please message me anytime you want to see each other again, and I'll be the one doing all the dirty work okay?"

This made Yoongi blush "Yeah okay. Thank you Jimin, truly I had a great night."

And it was the truth, he had so much fun he could relive the moment in his head for the next four years. Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2 wouldn't be needed when the memory of small hands, captivating moans and cum drizzling down his chin was enough to get him hard again. It had been less than 20 minutes. God dammit!

[cowboy-like-mee]

please, daddy? pt 1

summary: harry and y/n meet at the bar and activities ensue

warnings: smut (spitting, spanking, unprotected sex, daddy kink, f and m receiving oral, face fucking)

word count: 4k

a/n: hello pls use protection especially with strangers and also talk to your partners about what they like and dislike in bed

masterlist

Harry was horny.

Like really horny.

He can’t remember the last time he got laid and he was desperate for anyone to touch him.

He hates to admit, but he has been jerking off far too much lately, He found himself tugging his cock to the thought of anything and everything. His exes, random hookups from his college days, even celebrities he was attracted to. He did it when he woke up, in the shower, when he got home from work, when he went to bed, and even in the middle of the night.

Nothing helped him, and he felt like he walked around half-hard all day.

He was desperate for some relief, and he finally decided to do something about it.

He slipped on his best pair of high waisted trousers and a button-up blouse. He put on his pearl necklace and chunky rings that covered almost every one of his fingers. He slid his fingers through his hair to tame the mess of curls on the top of his head. He took a final look in the mirror and headed out the front door

He began the short walk to his favorite bar.

It was a Friday night, there’s bound to be someone there for him tonight. he knew he was an attractive man, so he was gonna use that to the best of his ability.

After ten minutes, he finally saw the neon sign of the bar and greeted the bouncer who knew him well by now.

He walked into the dingy bar that smelled of cigarette smoke and sweat. He glanced around the room, looking for a possible candidate. When he didn’t find anybody he turned towards the bartender.

“The usual. Thanks, Jenn.”

He leans his upper body against the bar as Jenn slides the drink towards him. He nods at her and picks up the glass to take a sip.

He watches the room carefully, trying to guess what each person’s life story is based on how they interact with people and carry themselves.

He turns his head towards the door and notices a large group of women walk in. He scans over the group to see if anyone piques his interest. He feels slightly disappointed when none of the girls particularly excite him. They were all beautiful of course, but he was looking for something different. Someone that made his heart stop and breath hitch in his throat.

Just that happened. When the last of the group trailed in, that’s when he laid eyes on you. He felt his heart drop to his stomach. You were stunning. You stood out amongst the other ten or so girls in your group. You had this aura surrounding you that was calling his name.

He didn’t quite know how to get your attention, and he didn’t want to be a dick or come across as creepy. He decided he was going to give it a little while before he attempted anything, as you had just arrived.

He sits at the bar for what feels like an eternity, which was in reality, only 30 minutes. He had kept a close eye on you, as not to lose you.

You started walking towards the bar and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Now was finally his chance. He thought carefully about how he wanted to approach you.

You stood only a few feet away from him, leaning against the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention. You were having a great time with your girls. You were getting another drink for yourself because you had drunk the last one a bit too fast. You were planning on nursing this one more. When you finally waved the bartender over, you turned your head to scope out the environment. You saw a man sitting just a few feet away from you, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice him at first.

He had dark wavy hair and a muscular build, but not too bulky. He had tattoos littering his arms and a few poking out the top of his shirt. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but you knew they looked light and enticing. He was hot. Very hot. Just as you were about to look away, he turned his head and his eyes met yours.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks at being caught. He gave you a little smirk, knowing you were checking him out. He nodded his head over, gesturing for you to come closer. You were nervous, not having the best experience with flirting with random men at bars, but you would be crazy to give up the chance of getting to know one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

You gave him a small smile and shuffled over to him. You pulled yourself up onto the stool right next to his, but not too close.

“Hey, doll. Can I treat you to a drink?” He rasped. His voice was thick and raspy.

You noticed a British accent and you almost dropped to your knees right there. You cleared your throat. “I already got one, but thank you. Maybe the next one?”

“Of course. I’m Harry. And you are?” He stuck his hand out for you to shake.

You took his hand into yours, noticing how much larger it was than his. You felt the coolness of his rings against your palm. “Y/N.”

He hums. He was losing his shit. You were so fucking gorgeous, and the way you looked at him made you seem almost innocent.

“By yourself?” He knew you weren’t by yourself, but he didn’t want to seem like a stalker for already knowing that.

“No, actually. I’m with my friends. Celebrating the weekend and all that.” You giggled and he felt his heart stop. You were so cute and he wanted to bend you over the bar right there.

“They won’t mind will they?”

You glance over at your group and notice a few of them nodding and giving you thumbs up.

“I think they’ll understand.” The bartender slides your drink towards you and you thank her. You bring the straw up to your lips and lick your lips at the fruity taste. Harry almost busts in his pants from the sight of you with your lips wrapped around the straw and licking your lips. He’s hoping that’s similar to how the night will end up for the two of him.

“What about you, Harry? Here all alone?”

He almost moans at the sound of your sultry voice saying his name. “Yep. Was bored just sitting at home. Decided to swing by here after work. Don’t live too far.”

You raise your brows at the mention of his home. He didn’t have to include that detail in his little spiel, but it’s almost like he wanted you to know.

“Interesting.” You take another sip of your drink and subtly shift closer to him in your seat. Turning your legs towards him a bit more. He did notice, of course. He felt his cock starting to throb in his pants. “What do you do? School, work? Have a sugar daddy perhaps?”

He lets out a loud laugh at you. Not only were you extremely hot, but you actually had a personality, making you even more desirable.

“I actually own a record store, but the idea of a sugar daddy sounds a lot better. Not as much work, you know?”

You giggle and lean towards him a little more. “What do you do, darling?” He brings his glass to his lips, keeping eye contact with you.

“I’m a student, but I work at a diner. Very prestigious, I know.”

He chuckled, “What are you studying?”

“I’m working on my doctorate in psychology.”

He widened his eyes, “Holy shit. You’re a genius, aren’t you? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed, “Oh, well, thank you very much.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a minute. He’s chewing on his bottom lip. You can’t help but stare at it. It’s glossed over from him licking at it, and they’re full and pink, practically begging you to slide your lips between his and glide your tongue along it.

You don’t know what he was thinking, but you hope it’s similar to what you’re thinking.

As soon as you go to speak again, he cuts you off, “Would you like to come home with me?”

You feel your breath hitch. “I-I...um...actually, yes...I would like that.”

His smile takes your breath away. He grabs his wallet out of his pocket and throws down a few bills. He grabs your wrist and leads you to the exit. You make sure to signal to your friends before leaving.

Once you make it outside, you feel like you can breathe. He turns to look at you. He’s absolutely breathtaking. You send him a small smile and he feels like he’s going to burst.

He tucks your hair behind your ear and cradles your jaw with his large hand. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes.” You whisper back.

He stares into your eyes to check for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans down and takes your bottom lip between his. You quietly whimper at the action and feel your knees almost buckle. You move your lips together slowly. You feel his tongue prod at your bottom lip. You open your mouth to let him enter. He swirls his tongue around your mouth and you man at the taste of him. You felt sticky between your legs.

He sucks on your tongue and tugs you closer to his body by your lower back. You get a good grip on his bicep and side of his neck. Harry has never felt this much euphoria in his life. He feels like he’s floating.

He pulls away, regretfully. A string of saliva connects you together and you giggle. He smiles and pecks your lips again. He intertwines your fingers and starts the brief walk to his flat. You stay close to him, hugging his large arm and running your hand up and down it.

He tells you his place is right around the corner and you feel your core tighten.

He opens the door to his building and gestures for you to walk in first. He presses the button to the elevator and leans down to kiss you again. He pulls back once he hears the elevator ding. He pulls you both inside and pushes you up against the wall of the lift. He starts kissing down your neck. You moan and pull on the curls on the back of his neck.

Once you arrive on his floor, he quickly walks you both to his door. He struggles to unlock, but once he does he pulls you inside. You thought he was going to begin ravishing you the second you got inside, but instead, he gives you a sweet and short kiss and leads you into his living room.

“Would you care for a drink, love?”

“Water would be great.”

He nods and tells you to have a seat. You plop yourself down on his couch and pull your coat and purse off your body, setting it on the coffee table. He walks in with two glasses of water and sits down next to you. You smile at him and take a big gulp of your water.

“We don’t have to anything.” He says suddenly.

You’re taken aback by his comment. No guy had ever said something like that to you. Even though his intention was clear when you left the bar, he wanted to make it clear that you had no obligation to do anything with him. He was respectful, hot, and funny, and you wanted to let him absolutely destroy you.

“Oh, trust me, I want to. Do you?”

He lets out a laugh, “Absolutely.”

You giggle and crawl into his lip. You straddle his hips and stare into his eyes. He licks his lips and looks down at your lips and back up. You feel his bulge underneath you and almost moaned at the feel of it against your core.

“What do you want, Harry?”

He groans and pushes his hips up to grind into you, “God, Y/N, I want to fuck you.”

“Shit...” You whimper at the feel of him bumping into your clit. “Fuck me, please.”

He sits up quickly and stands with you in his arms. He has a good grip right under your bum. Your arms are wrapped around his neck tightly. He carries you into his room, kicking the door shut. He lays you gently on the bed and hovers over you. He licks into your mouth and slides his hands up and down your sides. Your hand rests on his chest.

He kisses down your jaw and neck, littering love bites all along your neck. He grabs the end of your shirt and looks up at you.

“May I?”

You nod and lean up to tug your shirt off and unsnap your bra. He slides the straps of your bra down your arms and his mouth waters at the sight of your bare breasts. He brings his mouth down to suck at your nipple while bringing his hand up to your other breast.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so gorgeous.”

You moan out at his words and the feeling of his tongue gliding over your sensitive nipple. He switches to the other side and you lace your fingers through his hair and tug. He groans at the feeling.

He starts kissing down your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses, making you grow even wetter than you are. He stops when he gets to the waistband of your pants and he looks up at you. He teases you by licking along the waistband and sucking marks into your hips. You whimper and he finally gives in.

You help him by sliding your pants off your legs as he tosses his shirt to the side, not caring where it lands. He settles back between your legs. You sit up on your elbows and bend your legs so your feet are flat on the bed. He hooks his arm around your thighs and tugs you closer, so your core is right in front of his mouth.

He presses a soft kiss right over your clothed clit and you gasp. He could see a wet spot in your panties and he knew you were ready for him. He licks you through your panties to tease you once again. You let your head roll back. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he had a smirk on his face.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He pulls your panties to the side and licks a fat stripe right through your center. You let out a strangled moan and grip into his hair.

He sucks your clit into his mouth. Your legs are trying to clamp shut, but he pulls them apart and holds them open on the bed. He kitten licks your clit and holds eye contact with you. Your mouth is dropped open, letting out breathy moans. He licks down to your opening and fucks you with his tongue while rubbing your clit with his thumb.

He gets tired of holding your panties to the side because next thing you know he’s stopping his movements and ripping your panties down the middle. You feel your core clench around nothing at the sight.

He delves back into you. You feel your release bubbling in your stomach and you know you’re close. He can sense it too because he pulls back from you and replaces his tongue with his middle and ring finger.

He begins finger fucking you at a furious pace. A filthy noise filling the room along with your moans and his dirty words sending you over the edge.

As you climax, he licks your clit as he fingers you, making your legs shake and your mouth falls open to scream out his name. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers and tongue and start wriggling away from him when you get too sensitive. You’re panting and shaking from your release, but you still want to make him feel good.

You stand up and direct him to sit on the bed with his feet on the floor. You give him a kiss and can taste yourself on him. He groans into the kiss and slides his hand around to your ass to squeeze.

You drop to your knees in front of him and begin pulling down his trousers. He kicks them off. You rub your hands up and down his thighs. He leans back on his hands to give you plenty of room to work. You give him a delicate kiss over each of his fern tattoos.

You kiss his tip through his boxers and love the way his abdomen clenches at your touch. You hook your fingers into his boxers and tug them down his thick thighs.

His cock slaps against his stomach and your mouth immediately waters at the sight.

It’s big, red, veiny, and he has precum leaking out of the tip, making you want to take him into your mouth right then.

You know he’s the biggest you’ve ever seen before and definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. You wrap your hand around his girth and he moans out at the feeling of someone finally touching him.

You pump him while holding eye contact with him. He’s a mess above you, letting out strings of curses and moans. You finally give in to your urges and kiss his leaky tip.

You gather saliva in your mouth and spit down on his cock as a lubricant. His mouth drops open and he goes to say something but he’s cut off by the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him.

You take him as far down as you can, pumping him with your hand what can’t fit. You come back up and repeat the process over and over. You cup his balls with your other hand as you pump him vigorously while suckling his head.

You come up for air and an idea pops into your head.

“Harry?” You ask, your voice scratchy from having his cock down your throat.

He hums and holds your hair back from his face.

“Can you fuck my face?”

He feels his cock twitch and jaw drop at your question, not expecting that from you at all.

“Wh-what? You want m-me to-“

“Please, Daddy?”

He almost comes at the name falling from your lips. He’s always had a daddy kink but never wanted to make his partner’s uncomfortable. So when he heard you say that, something switched in him.

He grabs you by your hair and forces you to look up at him. “You want Daddy to fuck your pretty little mouth, baby?”

“Mhm, so bad. Please.”

He stands up so he can get better leverage. He gets a good grip on your hair and the side of your face.

His face softens and he stops for a minute, “You can always tell me to stop, okay?”

You nod at him, feeling your heart swell.

He taps your cheek so you open wide for him. He guides his cock into your mouth and slowly pushes in with his hips. He stifles a moan and slowly pulls out, just to make sure you were okay. Once he sees that you’re good with this, he quickens his pace. He’s snapping his hips forward and pushing his cock even further into your throat by your hair. His balls are slapping against your chin and vulgar noises fill the room. He feels his orgasm bubbling in his belly, so he pulls out. His chest is heaving. He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the bed. He gives you a light smack on the ass.

“Harder.”

He pulls your back up to his chest by your hair, “What was that, baby?”

You gulp, “Spank me harder, Daddy.”

His palm immediately slaps down on the swell of your ass harder and you gasp. It stings but feels good.

“You like that? Like when Daddy treats you like a little whore?”

He spanks you again and shoves you back down against the bed. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod, but he smacks you on the ass again. “Hm?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please, fuck me. I want to feel you stretch me out and fill me with your come. Please, Daddy.”

He spreads your cheeks open, so he can watch himself slide into your sopping wet cunt. Your pussy is like a vice on him. He has to hold himself back from coming immediately. He pushes all the way in and holds himself there.

He grips onto the back of your neck and your hip. “You okay, baby?” He leans down to give you a sweet kiss in the middle of your back.

You’re breathing heavy, but manage to let out a breathy whisper, “Yes. Move, please.”

He begins rocking into you at a hard pace. You can feel him in your tummy as he pushes into your tight cunt. He's trying to hold back from coming quickly.

He can't remember the last time he was buried inside someone like this.

He gives your ass a hard smack and feels your walls clamp around him. He groans and grabs you by your hair. He roughly pulls you up to his chest.

He brings his mouth right to your ear, "You like when Daddy spanks your pretty little ass." He gives you another smack, making you moan out. "Such a filthy little girl, aren't you?"

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure rushing through your body. Your cunt was pulsing around his cock and you could tell you were close. He's pounding into you rigorously and suddenly he pulls out. You whine at the loss of contact.

He grabs your hips and tosses you onto the bed. He fips you over and lays back over you. He reenters you and begins pounding into you. You love being able to see his face and body as he fucks you.

He really was a beautiful man and you felt lucky to have him in this way. You hold eye contact with him as he makes long, deep strokes into you. He can feel your juices coating his thighs and sweat beading his forehead.

You open your mouth wide for him and he furrows his brows. He gets the hint and spits straight into your mouth. You moan at the sensation and swallow his spit.

Harry is losing his fucking mind. Not only are you fucking breathtaking, but you're filthy and kinky. He quickens his pace and reaches down to rub your clit.

You feel your release bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Harry leans down to speak right into your ear, "Gonna come for me, baby? Be a good girl and come for Daddy. I want you to soak me."

That sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips through you. Your legs are convulsing and you're moaning out his name. As he's fucking you through your release, he's trying to hold back his own.

He finally can't take it anymore and he pulls out and gives his cock a few strokes to elongate his orgasm. He comes all over your stomach and chest. He groans loudly and flops down next to you.

That was one of the best orgasms he's ever had and he feels like he needs to sleep for a few days. Before he goes to sleep, he rolls out of his bed to get a towel to clean you off. He walks back in and gently wipes you down.

You smile at the action and thank him quietly.

"You can stay the night if you want to." He says.

You nod and pat the bed so he'll come to lay back down. He lies down and pulls you to him. He pulls the covers over you both and turns to spoon you. He kisses your shoulder and whispers in your ear to sleep well.

Harry went to sleep with a smile on his face.  

pt 2

[onlyforthebabes]

✨HL playlists by onlyforthebabes✨

(Edited to include 🎵when you know you know (HL6), 🎵close enough to touch (HL11), 🎵burnt romances (HL13), and 🎵too far gone (HL18))

This post is long overdue, but I've finally made a master list of all the HL playlists I've published here. They're listed in the order I created them, so there are some gaps in the numbers where I haven't posted (or maybe even finished) some, but I'll update if I ever publish more! I've put a lot of thought and time and love into these playlists, so I really hope y'all find something to enjoy here.

✨🎶

🎵a truth so loud

HL. The OG. A canon inspired playlist based on some of the most iconic H/L songs. (ft. 1D, Troye Sivan, Ed Sheeran, Lorde)

🎵honey (make this easy)

HL2. There’s no denying the chemistry between them from the moment they meet - so they don’t even try. While discretely hooking up with a fellow X Factor hopeful sounds like just another part of the fun, it’s hard to ignore that this thing between them is way more than physical, and “X Factor hopefuls” has become wholly inadequate to describe where they’re going. But in the midst of all the chaos, it’s hard to resist something this good. (ft. 1D, Hozier, Lizzo, Carly Rae Jepson)

🎵no matter how sweet, no matter how brave

HL3. New fame, new friends, new feelings. Jealousy gives way to mutual infatuation, which evolves into steadfast love. Growing up too fast doesn’t feel so scary when you’ve got someone to hold onto. (ft. 1D, Fleetwood Mac, Niall Horan, The Head and the Heart)

🎵Entirely

HLFOUR. Coming soon. (ft. 1D, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson)

🎵when you know you know

HL6. It's all about that one person... (ft. 1D, Maria Mena, Yellowcard, Beyoncé)

🎵one foot in sea and one on shore

HL10. A traveling sailor whose sense of home is the familiar warmth of local bars, a charming bartender in a seaside village, and a brief affair that leaves them both longing for a life far from everything they know. (ft. Regina Spektor, Bright Eyes, Feist, The Format)

🎵close enough to touch

HL11. Love can be frightening, for sure. (girl!direction) (ft. 1D, Louis Tomlinson, Hozier, Jake Scott)

🎵sunset couldn't save me now

HL12. Part-time suburban youth, summertime neighbors growing up together and blurring the lines of love and friendship; chasing dreams, traveling the world, and figuring out that sometimes home is a person. (ft. Sufjan Stevens, Vampire Weekend, Regina Spektor, Neutral Milk Hotel)

🎵burnt romances

HL13. A canon-compliant au where everything goes wrong, but love finds a way. (ft. The Weepies, Lewis Capaldi, Bleachers, The Head and the Heart)

🎵fell in love with the fire

HL14. Harry's long since accepted that fame comes with a closet. But a chance encounter with a friend from a past life may change everything (or, an au about identity, fame, missed connections, and giving love a chance) (ft. Florence and the Machine, Maren Morris, St. Vincent, Sam Smith)

🎵trip and i fall in

HL15. Undeniable chemistry turns a spontaneous hookup into fast friendship (with some pretty nice benefits). They know from the start it’s not exclusive, but that doesn’t stop anyone from catching feelings. (ft. Zayn, Ariana Grande, Brockhampton, Selena Gomez)

🎵learning to breathe

HL16. Harry and Louis have always been best friends, even within their close-knit group. Closeted, small town kids with little experience, an innocent first kiss turns into an agreement: to experimentally "date" in secret until high school ends. When it’s time to move on, they do. But as the years pass, they can never quite figure out how to let go. (ft. Maisie Peters, Julia Michaels, Lana del Rey, Lauv)

🎵too far gone

HL18. Love, illness, religion, and fear. A kiss between friends on a quiet winter's day changes everything. (ft. Sufjan Stevens, Brand New, Haley Heynderickx, Phoebe Bridgers)

🎵if i'm butter...

HL19. Louis’ an art student who spends his days wandering the city in search of inspiration while his hot-but-elusive craigslist roommate works ungodly hours as a baker. When the pandemic hits and the two near strangers are suddenly quarantined together, they find themselves growing closer in more ways than one. (ft. Relient K, BENEE, Fiona Apple, Samsa)

🎵pretend it isn't strange

HL20. A hopeless wanderer, lost and disillusioned with life, finds himself taken in by a small mountainside community: a friendly local band, a safe place to rest his head, and a stranger who makes it feel like home. Together they learn to let love grow. (ft. Wild Rivers, Ben Howard, Town Meeting, Birdtalker )

🎵yesterday (when you were young)

HL21. Coming soon (ft. Jon Bellion, AJR, Raleigh Ritchie, fun.)

🎵coming up lavender

HL22. New friends who feel like old ones, long drives home up the coast, and finding love in every color. Or, a girl!direction college road trip au (ft. Gretta Ray, dodie, Ingrid Michaelson, Mitski)

🎵it is what it is (till it ain't anymore)

HL23. An impending marriage, a secret affair, and either fate or bad timing. Harry and Louis fall in love one summer in rural Georgia. Years later, they meet again. (ft. Shania Twain, Kacey Musgraves, Gregory Alan Isakov, Andrew Bird)

And lastly, the playlists I've made based on other peoples' stories:

nothing but you on my mind 🎶for Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again. (ft. dodie, Julia Michaels, Dermot Kennedy, Lewis Capaldi)

little by little 🎶for Little by Little by @absoloutenonsense

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes. Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor. (ft. Jordy Searcy, Bruno Major, Lizzy McAlpine, Sleeping at Last)

love after the end of the world 🎶for Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong. (ft. Bastille, Hozier, Fall Out Boy, Lorde)