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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 year

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Ride With U

Summary: “I'm good, I'm down for you, You wanna ride with me?” It doesn’t matter the transportation, as long as it’s Hyungwon driving, you know you’re in for the time of your life.

Oneshot

Fluff, Strangers to Lovers au, Motorcyclist au

[TW: Mentions a past motorcycle accident (does not involve major characters)]

Word Count: 6,732

Hyungwon X Reader

[Long A/n: They do fall in love kind of fast- but hear me out- it’s motorcycle rider Hyungwon-. Anyways some things/terms to know before diving in. Firstly, I don’t know how long Hyungwon drove a motorcycle, this is just speculation. Secondly, a Swap Meet is an area where people sell tools/car parts/collectibles and sometimes there will be vendors that sell jewelry or fashion. Lastly, a Chassis is the underneath of a car. If anything else needs explanations/pictures- feel free to send me an ask! 🥰Also credits to @jinkoh for helping inspire this long-winded fic- and helping pick the title! 🥺💖💖]

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When you first saw Hyungwon, he was getting off his motorcycle, and you couldn’t help but stare at him. And then, when he took his helmet off and shook out his hair, you nearly fell out of the chair you were sitting in. Your friends turned and looked out the window to see what captured your attention. And they let out a collective “Ooh~” The four of you watched as he walked into the restaurant. All three of them started hyping you up. The one goes, “Come on, what’s the worst he could say?” Your other friend chimes in, “No. And that’s it! So why don’t you ask him?” And you whined and put your face behind your hands, “But he’s so handsome. And! He drives a motorcycle. He’s totally going to reject me.” Your friend beside you rubbed your shoulder and comfortingly said, “It’s okay. Who would want to reject a pretty thing like you~” You laughed and shook your head before they continued, “Come on, you haven’t been on a date in months!” You sigh, “I know,” The three of them nodded like you were going to say something exciting, “But I’m nervous!” They all groaned, “Come on!” And your friend to the left says, “After he orders, why don’t you go over there?” You nod. And look over at him and watch as he sips his coke and reads the menu.

When the waiter comes over, he tells him his order and hands him his menu. And your friends all give you encouraging words, and you whisper to them before you get up. “No guarantees that I’ll be able to ask him!” They laughed, “We’re just happy we convinced you to try!” You roll your eyes, trying to calm your nerves, and ask him, “Hey, is this seat taken?” He shakes his head ‘no’ with a small smile. And you sit across from him and ask, “Is that your motorcycle out there?” As if you hadn’t seen him get off of it. He nods, “Yeah. I’m planning on getting rid of it this month.” You hold back your surprise as you ask, “Why?” He gives you a small smile, “I want to try something safer.”

You nod, “That’s reasonable.” You see a light smirk playing on his lips before he asks, “Would you like to ride with me a few times before I do?” Your eyes light up in excitement as you shake your head, 'yes,' and he goes, “Great, then it’s a date.” You blush. Realizing this went way better than you had planned. You watch as the waiter brings out your dinner. And you tell him, “Um, my food just arrived. But uh, I’m (Y/n).” And he grins, “I’m Hyungwon.”

You exchange socials, and he asks, “After I finish my meal, would you like to go for a ride?” You nod eagerly, and he grins, “Cool. Maybe we can pick up ice cream on the way?” You grin, “I’d love that!” You stand up, and you both smile at each other before you head back to your table.

Your friends immediately ask how it went brimming with excitement. And you tell them in detail with a dreamy sigh as you fill up on your food. The three of them cheer and make a toast to you, and you laugh as you enjoy your meal together. You look over to his table to find him looking back at you. You shyly wave, and he waves back with a smile before you both continue eating.

He comes over once he finishes his food and pays for his meal. Your friends anticipate meeting the guy taking you out on an ice cream date. “Hey, are you ready to go?” You nod, having already paid for your meal. He introduces himself to your friends as you take one last sip of your drink. And your friend to your left goes, “Be careful. They're the only (Y/n) we got, okay?” He grins, “Of course.” You pull your coat on and bid your friends goodbye, and Hyungwon does too. You make your way over to his bike, and he opens the side compartment and hands you a helmet. He fastens his own on, and you get yours on and struggle to click it together, not used to the helmet. And he smiles before moving your hands away and snapping the fasteners together.

You blush, and he tells you to lean with him when he turns, or it could be dangerous. And you nod as he continues, “You don’t have to hold me if you don’t wish. You can hold on to the seat behind you, so you’re just as stable.” And you nod. Already making up the decision that you were going to hold onto him. He gets on first and watches you get on behind him. You nervously wrap your arms around him, and he places his hand on yours, and you give him a thumbs up. You feel him laugh as his hand leaves yours, and you link your hands together as he starts the motorcycle and backs up a bit before looking out onto the street. He revs the engine once, sending shivers down your spine. And you realize you’re doing this with a man you met no less than an hour ago. You hold on to him tighter as he pulls out of the parallel spot and onto the road.

It feels freeing as he speeds down the street, and you can’t help but loosen your grip up some as you get more comfortable with his driving. When he gestures that he’s going to make a left, you lean with him, and two turns later, he’s at the ice cream place. He backs into a spot, turns the ignition off, and waits for you to clamber off it. Your legs feel like jelly as you stand on solid ground, and while you can’t see his grin, you can hear his muffled laugh. He swings his leg over, takes his helmet off, and says, “You get used to it after a while of riding.” You nod, and he smiles, “What flavor do you like?” You smile as you tell him your favorite flavor and how you like your toppings. And he tells you what his favorites are as you both walk to the back of the line.

When you get to the counter, he orders for you both. And you thank him softly, and before you can pull out your card, he’s already inserted his and paid for both. You gasp, and he smirks, “Can’t let my date pay.” You shake your head as you head over to the line of paid ice cream orders waiting to pick their frozen treats up. When you guys receive yours, you find a bench near his bike.

Sitting across from each other again, you say, “Well, this feels familiar.” He nods. And you don’t talk much as you eat your ice cream and when you finish. He asks, “Was that your first time?” You nod, “I always dreamed of riding on one.” He smiles, “I always did too.” You ask, “What made you get into it?” He smiles and thinks back. After a moment, he says, “I remember looking at magazines and seeing how cool it was to ride one. And when I turned eighteen, I finally went after the dream.” You go, “So you’ve been riding since then?” He nods, “On and off for about ten years. It would have been eleven next year.”

You ask another question, “I understand that you’re giving it up, but why, after nearly eleven years, are you giving it up for safety?” He looks down at the table, and you can tell it’s not easy for him to say. But he does anyway, “A friend of mine got severely injured from a bike accident, and he was my riding buddy. It's uh... It would be weird without him riding alongside me.” You tell him how you understand, and he nods, “Maybe, someday, when he’s healed and ready to ride again, I would. Or maybe something else will inspire me to ride again. But for now, I'll enjoy my last month with it and part ways.”

You smile, “You never have to ride again if you don’t wish to. That must have been scary to hear your friend got badly injured in a bike accident.” He nods, “It was, he’s recovering now, thankfully, but it made me realize how much risk I was taking every time I rode. Yeah, I had close encounters before this. Where someone wasn’t paying attention or losing control of my bike and getting minor injuries, but that was in the early days. I expected that stuff then, but he has as much experience as I do. And it made me realize that no matter how skilled you think you are, you can get horribly injured.” You nod, reach over and take his hand in yours, “You’re doing what’s best for you for the time being. And that's what matters the most. Thank you for telling me.” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “I’d like to think so. Thank you for listening.”

He asks if you’d ever pick it up given the opportunity, “I think being a passenger is more fun. Not as much worry to get us there but still all the excitement of riding a motorcycle.” He laughs, “I get that.” You continue asking each other questions, getting to know each other more until the day grows dark and paints the sky with millions of stars. You only realized the change in scenery when you heard the light above you flicker on. And you both look up towards it and see it all, “Wow, it got fairly late.” You whisper to him, and he smiles, “It’s hard to notice anything else when you’re sitting across from me.” You blush, shake your head, and tell him, “I could say the same about you. Your eyes contain the stars. There's no reason to look up when you’re right here.” You see his ears turn red, and you can’t help but smile. He asks, “Would you like to go for a night ride?” You nod, filled with excitement all over again. He pulls you up from your seat, and you both throw out your trash and head over to his motorcycle.

Before you put on your helmets, he tells you he’s taking the highway. And then, after that, to a hillside to see the night sky without any light pollution. You gasp, and he grins, “I thought you'd like to see the real deal.” You eagerly nod. This time successfully putting your helmet on, he gets on with ease after clicking his helmet into place. You wrap your arms around him, and he turns the engine over. After it roars to life, he pulls out of the empty parking lot, and with it all clear, he pulls out and heads to the highway.

If it felt freeing before, it was nothing compared to now as he goes from 35 to 70 mph. You can’t help the little “Woohoo!” you let out as he speeds off. With ease, he merges onto the highway. And even with the chill of the night air and the early spring weather, you can’t help but feel warm. Maybe it was because it was your first time on a motorcycle. But you had a funny feeling it was the guy operating the bike that sent millions of butterflies throughout your stomach.

He passes three exits before finally getting off the highway. When he reaches the top, it’s a red light. He turns his head back towards you and flips his visor up, “How was that?” You flip yours up and grin, “It was electric!” He laughs, and so do you, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it!” And with that, you put your visors down as the light turns green, you both lean right and head to see the night sky in its full glory. It’s not long before he reaches the hillside. He parks it in the lot below. You both get off the bike, and he opens the other compartment and pulls out a blanket. You walk up the hill together, he sets the blanket down, and you both take off your helmets again. And place them on top of the blanket before sitting next to each other.

You smile, “I never thought it’d feel like that.” He looks over at you and asks, “Yeah?” You nod, turning to look at him, “It’s like you’re one with the world but also completely free from it.” He smiles, “Yeah, it’s comforting.” You both look out towards the sky and fall into a comfortable silence. Watching the stars twinkle and dance around the sky as the moon shines brightly above the two of you. While you felt nice before, this felt heavenly. Not only were you with someone you found attractive, but you were also experiencing something completely new. And you couldn't help but feel excited about what this month would bring for you and your life.

He breaks the silence first and goes, “This is my favorite place to go when I’m out for a night ride.” You nod, “It’s beautiful out here.” You two continue staring off in silence, taking in the atmosphere. When your tiredness catches up to you, you yawn. And he asks, “Are you ready to go home?” And you want to say ‘no’ because you want this date to last forever. But you tiredly nod a ‘yes,’ and he smiles, “It’s okay. There’s always next time.” You smile at him and tell him your address. He nods and helps you stand, “I’ll take you the quiet way home.” You agree and end up yawning again, and he chuckles at that. And you smile over at him, take your helmet and help him fold the blanket back up.

You both walk down, and he puts the blanket away. He sees you struggle with your tired movements to fasten your helmet. He smiles, “Let me help you again.” You nod, and he snaps it together, “You know, you’re making me pretty tired with all your yawning. Good thing I'm used to staying up late.” You chuckle as he mounts the bike, and you follow shortly. He turns the engine over as you wrap your arms around his torso. You bury your head further into his leather jacket, growing tired but still following him in his turns. He takes all the backroads. So you’re not disturbed by a loud semi-truck passing you as you rest against him.

He gets there faster than you imagined he would, and he parks in front of your residence. You still feel slightly tired as you unwind your arms around him and slowly get up. Your legs feel like jelly, but it’s more tolerable as you get off this time. He pulls off his helmet as you do. As you go to hand it back, he shakes his head, “No, you keep it.” You gawk at him, and he grins, “You’re the only person I plan on riding with for the rest of the month.” You smile and look down at the pavement before back towards him, “Thank you.” He shrugs, “It’s my pleasure.” He smiles and asks, “Can I walk you to your door?” And you nod, “Sure.”

He brushes your hair behind your ear before placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips. And you barely kiss back before he parts, “Let’s have a longer one next time.” He parts from you and waves goodbye, and you watch him walk away. And the jelly feeling returns all over again, and you shakily open your door, close it, and slide down it. You just experienced the man of your dreams driving you around on a motorcycle, and he kissed you too? You felt like you were evaporating. There was no way this wasn’t a dream. You pinch yourself, “Oh, it was real.”

------

After that night, he'd pick you up every other night for a date. And you couldn’t help but feel excited every time you met up with him. As the end of the month approached, you realized you were right. It wasn't because he was driving a motorcycle. But it was because of him and how he was funny, kind, a little reserved, and handsome from the inside out. You couldn’t wait to see him every day, especially on the weekends when you both could go for further out drives and watch the sunset together. It felt like a high school romance, where you were both so enamored by the other that you couldn’t get enough. Sure, you had partners before him that lit up your world. But nothing could compare to the rush of butterflies you got every time you saw him.

It was no longer a matter of feeling free on a motorcycle, it was a perk, but it didn’t mean anything if it wasn’t with Hyungwon. “You know, it doesn’t feel as lonely anymore.” He whispers to you the night before he trades his motorcycle for a car. “What do you mean?” He smiles, “You make me feel content and safe.” He pauses, “When my buddy could no longer ride. It was like I lost a part of me that made me feel safe riding. But riding with you holding me. It feels like nothing could ever bring me harm.” You look down at your intertwined hands and squeeze your hands together. “I don’t think I could ever ride a motorcycle without you. You make the experience worth having. Without you, it’d just be a bike. It wouldn't hold meaning to me. Whatever you wish to drive, I wish to be along for the ride.” He brings your intertwined hands up and kisses the top of your hand. “I’m glad I have you. I know it’s only been a month since we started dating. But I hope we can last a long time together.” You smile, “Me too.”

------

The first time he picked you up in a car, it felt a little foreign to you both. You laughed as you got in and said, “I guess I don’t need a helmet to see you anymore.” He laughed. And you both grew used to it as the day went on. “I miss being able to hold you while we went somewhere.” He nods, “I miss the feeling too.” And you reach over, and you hold his hand in yours, “But now, we can hold hands and talk.” You laugh. He agrees, “Yeah, that’s a plus.” And just as you thought, as long as it was with Hyungwon, it was an enjoyable ride. And even better cause, now you could exchange kisses at red lights if you wish.

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That was almost a year ago, and now you were lying in bed beside Hyungwon. You both had settled more into casual less adventurous dates as you guys got more comfortable with one another. As you scroll on your phone, watching silly videos, he asks, “Babe, would you like to go to this car show with me?” You look over at him after thinking about it for a moment. “What kind?” He tells you about this indoor car show with two levels, an assortment of food to choose from, and the small swap meet in the back. You agree getting to walk around with your boyfriend while looking at pretty colored cars sounded like fun. He somehow made everything enjoyable, even if it was something you hadn't tried.

------

That Saturday, you both got up early with the promise of more sleep that afternoon. And head out and stop to buy some coffee and doughnuts before continuing onto the car show. By the time you get to where the entrance toll is, you’ve both finished your doughnuts. When the parking attendant arrives and opens up the entrance, you pay the parking fee, and Hyungwon gets you guys the closest parking space imaginable to the doors.

You finish your coffees as you walk next to each other to the front doors and throw out the cups and trash from the car into the trash can. You pull up your tickets and wait for them to let you in. While there, you both talk about how you want to go about it. The place looked grander than you thought. The ceilings had to be at least sixty feet up, and everywhere you looked, there were cars to look at already. But the entrance was straight ahead, and you say, “Why don’t we tackle the lower level first? Isn’t it supposed to be smaller?” He nods, “Yeah, let’s do that. Then, we’ll go from that end to the entrance?” You agree, “Sounds good.” And when the line starts moving, you both present your tickets, and the person scans them and stamps your hands.

You both walk past the entrance and take in the fact that’s even bigger after the main entrance. “Holy shit.” You whisper, and he laughs. To not lose you in the growing crowd, he takes your hand in his and interlocks them to keep you beside him. You smile, squeeze your fingers in his, and walk down to the lower level. Where music from the 70s plays in the background as you reach the bottom of the escalator. You take into the room it’s tiny compared to upstairs. And only two other people are down here. As you look at each car, you spot a light green 70’ dodge charger with a black stripe running down the side of it. You tell him that this one’s your favorite so far. And he smiles, “Go stand in front of it!” And you grin, and he takes a photo of you standing in front of your favorite car.

You guys take a few more photos of the cars you like before riding the escalator back up and notice that it’s starting to fill with more people than before. You lock your arm in his as you head right and see the humongous monster trucks lining the sides. You see you're allowed to sit in the rims of the large tires, and you drag Hyungwon to take turns taking photos inside the wheel. And a few in front of huge trucks, as well, “That makes me feel small.” He says, and you grin, “Yeah, it’s huge!” He snickers, and you roll your eyes at him. It makes him laugh even harder. “I’m dating the most mature man on the market. Yeah, that’s for sure.” He smirks and tickles your sides for a second, causing you to finally join him in laughter.

You both move onto the rat rod section and admire them for how wicked and rusty they look. “Oh, look at how weirdly cute that green mouse is!” He smiles, “They call ‘em Rat Fink.” You get a picture next to the cutout. And you take a photo of him in front of it as well.

You finish the first four rows of cars before you make it to the front of the car show again. And your stomach growls. He smirks, “Hungry?” You roll your eyes, “Of course I am.” He laughs, and that's when his stomach growls and it's your turn to laugh at him, “Who’s hungry now!” He smiles, “Us!” You both walk to the front of the section and head to the mildly packed food court. And order a pizza slice each and two large pops. You both find a clean table, sit on the opposite side of each other and devour your food.

When you finish your food, you go, “This is nice.” He nods, “I think so too.” You dump your paper plates and napkins and take your unfinished pops along. “What’s your favorite part so far?” You ask, and he says, “I have two so far. The rat rods were really cool to me. And then getting to spend it all with you. What about you?” You tell him, “I like the cars on the lower level. They were more elegant. It might have been the clean look of the room that made me think that, though.” He nods, and you have him look towards you, “But, the best part is spending it with you.�� Which makes him blush, and you guys lock hands again and head off to the fifth row.

------

You make it to the swap meet part, and you find some fuzzy dice for three bucks and purchase them, and he finds a hot wheels car that matches his car and buys it. You guys wander through it, not looking for any parts or anything, just seeing if something would catch your eye. You don’t end up finding anything else but are still happy with the purchases you made. You put the dice in your coat pocket, and Hyungwon does the same with his hot wheels car. And you make your way through the middle of the car show, where the lights are brighter than before, showing off all the ones that belong to clubs. Like the mustang club, which has a few convertibles that you’d both love to drive someday and you take photos of them all.

You move on to the corvette club’s section. And it looks like a fenced-in neighborhood. You tell him, “It looks like the cars are rival neighboring houses, unlike the ford club, whose cars looked like they were best buds.” He agrees and points to the cherry apple red one, “Now that one, that’s my favorite.” You gesture for him to stand in front of it. And you take a photo of him with it, and he comes back, “I’d rather see you in front of it.” You shake your head at him before standing in front of it and giving him a little pose before you move on to the next section and throw out your empty cups.

You both continue like that until you reach the motorcycle section, and you see how his eyes light up as he takes in each bike. And instead of taking photos, you video him enjoying himself as he hops from one to one in excitement until he grabs your hand and drags you over to one that looks very familiar. And he goes, “I had a feeling I’d see it again.” And you continue filming him but take photos during it this time.

The current owner comes over, and you turn off your camera, and Hyungwon starts talking about how he used to own it. You grin to yourself as you watch him happily chat about his bike. You don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying as you reminisce on your memories of the cycle. Until you hear Hyungwon go, “If it wasn’t for this bike, I don’t know if I would have met the love of my life.” He gestures towards you, and you wave, and the owner waves back. You blush and you can’t help but feel the same about Hyungwon. But some things are destiny, and this was one of them. You could have met him now when he was just a regular motorist. But getting to be a part of his motorcycle life was something you wouldn’t trade for the world, even if it was short-lived. That first month of going on countless dates and riding around on his motorcycle is what formed your bond. You would have thought you’d grow tired of hanging with the same person nearly every day. But each day with him was an adventure, and you fell more and more each day for him. And you both made the most of that month. You're still falling for him even though supposedly the honeymoon stage of dating is over, and the bike that started it all belongs to someone else.

You smile as you think about how thankful you are for that bike and the man it helped you meet. That's when the owner asks, “Would you like to get on it for old times' sake?” Hyungwon gasps, “You would let me?” They nod, “Of course, I can even take photos of you two if you’d like!” Hyungwon looks at you with a huge grin, and you nod. He gets on first and poses a few times before gesturing for you to join him. You do, and like its muscle memory, you wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his back before lifting your head to take photos with your head on his shoulder. It was wild to feel all over again. Sure, you gave him enough back hugs to fill that craving of holding him like that, but getting to embrace him on his old bike all over again? Hundreds of feelings rush through you. And they’re all joyous, nostalgic, and filled with love. You were so content, and when you had to get off, you almost didn't want to, but you did.

When you both hopped off, “Something was missing.” He whispers, and you whisper back, “Our helmets.” And he grins, “Yeah.” He finishes his conversation and thanks them for taking photos of you two.

You walk through the dirt bike section side by side and ask him, “Do you remember our first date?” He grins, “Of course I do. How could I forget it? The most beautiful person I had ever seen came up to me asking about my motorcycle. And then I got to take them out for ice cream.” You blush, “I got to ride a motorcycle for the first time and go out on a date with you. And unbelievably, when I got home, the man of my dreams kissed me.” He blushes this time and pulls you into him to hug. “You know, I meant what I said. You’re the love of my life, even though we haven’t been together long.” You murmur to him, “You’re the love of my life too. I’m so thankful I got over my nerves that night.” He grins, “I’m glad I rode it that night.” You nod, “Me too.”

You finish looking at the bikes and walk through the custom builds with their crazy electric colors and murals painted all over them. And gasp at the art of each one, and take pictures of each, some with Hyungwon in them and some of the cars themselves. He did the same thing with you, and you both walked over to the DJ bus, where they were putting out the tunes that were playing above. You both stand by the speakers. He twirls you around, and you follow his lead for a few moments before spinning him around too.

You guys laugh as you walk away from the speaker and over to the lifts. Each has a car on top and one underneath it. Two of the four posts are black, and another is red. And one is a different type altogether. It’s blue and yellow and holds the car in place in the middle. Unlike the other three, it's holding the car up by two posts. “That one doesn’t look as safe as the other two.” You whisper, and he shakes his head, “Yeah, I don’t want to walk under it. Like the other three seem fine, but that one,…” You shiver, “If it's not properly secure and we walk under it... We’re crushed, gone, poof.” He gulps, and you both walk around it before walking underneath the red one and looking up at the chassis. While you know the people showing these were selling them, you both didn’t care. While you thought they were neat, there was no practical use for either of you. Considering if you needed to work on the car, you would jack it up and work on the ground together. You head over to the table when the two are distracted by customers. You both reach in and get a lollipop from the candy bowl. “Worth it!” You both cheer after you walk away.

You suck on your lollipops as you come up on the small foreign cars. And you look at them and cheer, “You’re twice the height of this car!” The sleek Ferrari Dino 206 in front of you sits on a rotating stage, and Hyungwon laughs, “I think I’m twice as tall as the majority of the show cars” You shrug, “Yeah, I know, but this one is the most obvious!” Even with it on a stage, he still towered over it. You two do your best to take photos in front of it until a lady comes up to you and asks if you want a picture in front of her car.

And you both eagerly nod, and she grins. She gestures for you both to stand together. And she captures a few with the side of the car and one with the front end. And one when the back was facing both of yours. “Here you go!” You tell her, “You have a lovely car!” And she smiles, “Thanks, it was a gift from my girlfriend! She’s around here somewhere with her light green 70’ charger!” You grin, “Oh gosh, is it the one on the lower level?” She thinks before nodding, “Yeah! That’s where she said it was!” “I took pictures with it, but we didn’t see her.” She nods, “Ah, you two must have gotten here early. Well, then, I’ll let you two be off! I’m going to visit her! Thank you for reminding me where she parked!” You bid her farewell, finish up your suckers, throw them away, and head to the last part of the left side.

You start at the end where the old vans are. “No way! A 23-window Volkswagen bus?!” You gasp, and he tilts his head, “What’s so impressive?” You smile, “These are incredibly rare! I don’t remember why. But it’s super neat that someone has it restored!” And you take photos of the inside and out and continue throughout the section seeing versions of the Mystery Machine and other old-school vans. You head over to the old restored farm trucks that look like they just came off the lot. They look majestic, and you start reaching the end as you notice the kids racing cars on a track.

You both stand and watch them race around the track and decide to root for opposing teams. Your team wins the first round. And you both stand there watching until Hyungwon’s team wins. When his team wins he cheers and places his hand on the small of your back and leads you to the last of this section.

The last three are three mismatched cars. They don’t seem to fit in with one another, but they look like they belong together. You take a moment to read the sign and find out the pearlescent pink 56’ Cadillac is the father’s, and the mother’s is the silvery blue 65’ Thunderbird. And lastly, the sleek black Mustang from 1990 is the son’s car. You grin, “Oh, how cute! It’s a mismatched family!” And he smiles, “It is!” You both take photos of the car family.

Before making your way out of the last section, he goes, “Ready to see them roar their engines?” You nod, already hearing some of the loud revvings from the left. You smirk, “My dad would call this section the ‘show offs’” He laughs and says, “My mom would too!” You keep close together as you walk in, and luckily, the ventilation in the building is good, and you couldn’t smell too much smoke. You watch as some use their hydraulics to lift off the ground. And others show off how loud and fast their engines are. You keep going through and notice mostly V8 engines revving before making it over to the foreign-made cars. And see that they house V12s, “I thought those were legends.” Hyungwon whispers to you. And you can’t help but gasp as you look at the engines and see how huge they are, “You’d think that makes them slower due to the size, but the horsepower...” He gapes at them, “Must be insane to be behind the wheel.”

You gulp, “A V8 engine can get away with you if you press the gas wrong. I couldn’t imagine how fast this thing could...” You start reading about the Ferrari from the board, and it says that in 8.2 seconds, it could get up to 124 mph, and you gasp. You both exchange a look at each other, and he goes, “Holy fuck.” And that’s when the owner turns the car over, and you hear its roar. And it sends shivers up your spines, and Hyungwon whispers, “Yeah, that’s power.” The owner smiles, “It’s a fast one, but don’t get them wrong, I usually use it for grocery shopping with the kiddos! They do very well. You just got to know how to control it!” That eases both of your stomachs, and you thank them for the information, and they tell you it’s no problem. After killing the ignition, they go back to sitting beside it.

You guys finish up this last section and head out into the hall. Hyungwon tells you, “I have to say the motorcycles and this section are certainly two of my favorites.” You nod, “I agree, but I still like the basement the most. It looks so clean!” He nods, “That was nice too!” You kiss his cheek, “I’m glad I got to enjoy this with you.” He nods, “Yeah, we learned a bit, and we also went down memory lane.” You smile, “Yeah, maybe one year we can have a car or motorcycle here. Together.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “I’d love to do that with you.”

You look at the food section, and he asks, “Want anything before we leave?” You shrug and shake your head, “Not really, you?” He shakes his head, “Me neither.” You both make your way back out the entrance. Once inside his car, he says, “I’ve wanted to do this since we saw my old bike.” Before pulling you in for a kiss, you can’t help but smile as you kiss him back. When you pull away, “You could have kissed me in there.” He shrugs, “I like sharing these moments with only you. Everyone knows we’re together, but only you and I get to know what it’s like.” You’re both red as he finishes up his sentence, and you pull him in for another kiss.

When you pull away you reach into your pocket and pull out the fuzzy dice. You put it over the visor and you both giggle. “It’s cute” he says, and he reaches into his pocket and hands you the hot wheels car. “I wanted you to have it so whenever I’m away, you’ll always have my car.” You thank him, and you both giggle at the other realizing you both had bought each other something. “I thought you were buying the dice for your car.” You shake your head, “I have that little tree air freshener. I thought you were buying the hot wheels car for yourself.” You both shake your heads at each other. He kisses you one last time before he pulls out of the parking lot and makes his way out, you hold his hand over the shifter. “I can’t believe it’s only been about a year since we’ve been together.” He agrees and brings your hand to his lips, “I know it’s hard to make promises to an ever-changing world, but I hope one thing remains consistent. Me and you, for a very long time.” You smile, bring his hand to your lips and kiss it before whispering, “For a very long time.”

You guys go to a restaurant seeing it’s late enough for an early dinner. And you walk in, noticing the date on the calendar, and ask him, “What’s today?” He looks over at you and shrugs before looking at the calendar too. You watch as it dawns on him with a smile on your face, “How did we forget?” You shrug, “Either way. We spent today together. That’s what anniversaries are for.” He smiles, “Yeah. Do you want to get ice cream after this?” You grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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manic-ass · 1 year

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//beautiful stranger

pairing: lee ten × oc (female) genre: strangers to lovers au! fluff, little bit of angst and hurt/comfort, oc is also a little insecure about relationship word count: 3380 summary: "sorry, i'm going to call you cher-cher, because i've heard colleagues call you that... i didn't know how to ask you this, but would you like to go out with me? don't get any ideas, i just want to thank you and have a little chat. i'll be expecting you on thursday after shift, hope you agree, t." a/n: strongly recommend you to listen to halsey's finally//beautiful stranger while reading. oh, and also, i'm sorry, but there are some phrases in french, it really makes more sense in french than in english. it's up to u wether u want to translate them while reading or no.

the first time he appeared in their coffee shop, cherry had trouble taking her eyes off him. he might have been an ordinary guy, just another parisian, but there was still something about his appearance that attracted. maybe the black hair, even from a distance it seemed unimaginably soft, the features themselves exquisite and refined. but when their gazes happened to cross, it was his eyes that she found most fascinating, dark brown, but the look was just like a sly cat's. for a second, he even smiled at her, the corners of lips barely lifting.

it was his first visit, not the last since that day － the beautiful stranger, as the girl had named him, had been coming to the coffee shop for months. anette had brought the same order for the second week: a pumpkin spice latte, two sugar, extra cream, and a slice of cheesecake. friend teased her for liking the guy, noticing the slight blush that covered her cheeks.

in love like a fool, she kept telling herself, anette only rolled her eyes at this. her friend had suggested hundreds of times that cherry should make a move to meet him and if she really liked the guy that much, maybe she should at least talk to him. the same was said by yuki, who started every phone conversation with the question "how is the beautiful stranger? have you asked him out yet?"

cherry laughed back, her friends so genuinely wanting to set her up with anyone that they were ready to attack any guy at which direction she breathed. but here's the problem － the beautiful stranger would stay that way, because no matter how she would embarrassedly look at him from under her lashes, no matter what she would giggle quietly, watching only for some of his actions.

'cause beautiful strangers only come along mostly to do her wrong.

"cher-cher, your beautiful stranger has left something at his table, think it's meant for you."

anette smiles slyly, winking at her friend. what kind of surprise could be expected there she had no idea, but seeing the note wedged between the coffee cup and the surface of the table, girl was confused. why had anette thought it was for her?

but succumbing to her curiosity, cherryl did get the note out, unfolding a neatly folded piece of paper. on it, in a slightly ornate handwriting, was written :

"sorry, i'm going to call you cher-cher, because i've heard colleagues call you that... i didn't know how to ask you this, but would you like to go out with me? don't get any ideas, i just want to thank you and have a little chat. i'll be expecting you on thursday after shift, hope you agree, t."

the cold air blew her hair strands that stirred in eyes, blocking girl's vision. there was still a freshness to it from the torrential rain that had been pouring non-stop for two days.

that thursday, however, the beautiful stranger was in her company, they walked it seemed until the wee hours of the morning, ignoring the cold, the bad weather, the fact that they both had to work on friday.

ten, beautiful stranger, had taken her for a night hours walk, luring her to an indoor amusement park. cherry felt as if he had pulled a star from sky for her.

adrenaline was still bubbling in her blood: they had to run to not miss the bus, cherry almost fell if ten hadn't caught her in time. her blood was boiling as well from the cold of the night, cheeks really turning cherry-tinted, hands tingling from the chill － except that ten's palms were warming her own.

of course cherryl knew that going to god-only-knows-where with a stranger wasn't the best idea, but for some reason she kept walking forward, clinging harder to the guy...

and when in the park he took his palms away from her eyes, the amazement she felt was immeasurable. there wasn't a soul in the dark park, yes, it was frightening, but the fact that the lights of the ferris wheel were burning brighter than the stars amazed the girl. ten noticed that her eyes were shining too, like those of a small child who was seeing something wonderful for the first time, it made smile spread across his face.

"bienvenue dans mon monde."

cautiously looking back at him, cherry smiled. In her beautiful stranger's world everything indeed was beautiful too.

"and is everything in your world like that?"

a soft laugh came off his lips. damn, how handsome he is, cherry thought. she marveled at how he still wasn't cold, except for his fluffy sweater he wasn't wearing a jacket, and the time had long since passed midnight. she was distracted from her thoughts by the touch of his lips to her cheek, that warmth spilling over her face. he lingers for a few more seconds, then replies:

"bien entendu."

"your eyes, so crisp, so green,

sour apple baby, but you taste so swe..."

"bon sang, qu'est-ce que..."

Phone rang in the middle of the night, and in the sack cherry manages to notice that it's three in the morning, saturday. with girls they had a good time tonight, that headache was already giving off a slight throbbing in the back of her head.

"bonjour, are you awake?"

sleep was relieved by the sound of his voice. ten's voice had a pleasant, velvety quality that she wanted to listen to for hours. perhaps even at a time like this she would have been glad to chat with him, but clearly not tonight.

"not anymore, what are you..."

he doesn't give her a chance to finish, interrupting.

"can i come in to see you?"

her eyes wide open in a flash, is he here? jumping out of bed, cherry runs up to the window, peering out at her beautiful stranger. god, she notices the familiar car and the figure below.

"ten, damn, lee, what are you doing here!?"

he seemed to notice her silhouette in the window because she heard a chuckle on the phone, they were still talking. she moved away from the window, sliding down the wall beside, until she felt the coolness of the floor, which brought her to senses a little.

"hey, cher-cher, think i saw you, but never mind... so can i come in?"

"god, ten, no," the girl felt horrible about the situation, and the headache punching a hole in her head, and everything else in the world. "don't think i don't want, it's just that girls are home and we've been drinking and also... oh, lord, just wait for me outside, i'll be right down."

"cher-cher, it's fine, i can come..."

"five. minutes. boy, be patient."

cherry pressed the reset button in passing, pulling on jeans lying on the floor, throwing on the first sweater she could find that wasn't even hers, it smelled of ten's perfume, girl grabbed her phone and bag from the desk.

as cherry left the room she spotted anette and yuki asleep cuddling on the couch, even managed to take a picture to remember. she was in such a hurry that she almost fell down on the steps. a cold wind was blowing outside, forcing to wrap herself more tightly in sweater, but the freshness somehow eased the pain in cherry's temples.

"hey."

despite the late hour, or early, he looked rather chipper. his black hair was tucked out of his eyes and his jacket sleeves were pulled almost to his fingertips. he was leaning against the car, looking suspiciously, and his smile was strained.

his embrace was warm and comfortable, making her want to fall back into sleep, but that was clearly not why he wanted to meet. pulling away a little, cherry wanted to ask what was wrong, but ten suddenly pressed his lips to hers, the girl clutched at his shoulders in shock, the kiss was insistent, a warm hand resting on the back of her neck, the other pressed her closer by the waist. ten bit down on her lip, earning a moan that escaped the girl's lips, his tongue sliding over the fresh bite as if asking permission for next move.

but behind cherry's eyes, albeit closed, were all a blur of red, that she involuntarily pulled away, ten reached after, but the girl managed to stop him.

"wait, wait, what's wrong, ten?" her palm rested on his cheek and with the pad of her thumb she stroked his lower lip, eyes trying to catch his gaze.

"it's okay, i just wanted to see you. very much." he stretched the fake smile again, which didn't hide the anxiety in his eyes.

"you're lying."

"cerise, how can you doubt my words?"

she rolled her eyes demonstratively at his reply, if he didn't speak up himself, then she'd have to make him.

"well you missed me, here i am. but i'd better get going now, it's saturday after all, i wanted to get some sleep..."

cherry had already turned to go towards the flat and felt his grip around her waist became stronger, pressing the girl's back against his chest, she felt his warm breath on her neck.

"don't go."

turning her face a little, she tried to look ten in the eyes again, this time he didn't look away.

"then tell me what happened."

"i'll tell you, but not here. it's cold outside, you're already shaking."

indeed, cherry didn't notice how every blow of the wind sent chills down her skin.

"i know a place to go, but it closes in a couple of hours, so let's get moving."

his lips faintly touch her neck before he releases the girl from his arms.

tears rolled down her cheeks in black streams, cherry had been sitting like this for hours, her mind full of thoughts about how unfair life was.

behind her was the embossed wooden door, the floor cold and the window wide open. today was a bad day at work, yesterday they had a fight and on monday everything was so good and right.

outside the door, anette and yuki were enjoying their beautiful life, while inside, and in her soul, there was a whole damn hurricane. cold late november wind was blowing through the open window, wet leaves were landing on the windowsill, and the floor next to it was already wet. she would probably get sick. she would have to take a sick leave at the cafe, she thought, minus her salary. it seemed such a trifle, but the thought made her want to cry even more.

there was a knock at the door, but she waited silently for what the person on the other side of the door was going to say, though the silence lingered, as if the person behind it was hesitant.

"hey, cher-cher, there's someone here to see you... and, we were actually going to ... uh," another voice could be heard outside the door, grudgingly expressing something. "... the shop... yeah, right, the shop!"

"anyway, we're out of here," yuki's voice said. "be a good girl and don't make us blush later."

ten, standing next to them grinned involuntarily, anette and yuki were completely different after all, yuki was an ulcer and anette more mellow, but he could see why cherry was befriending them. the blonde smiled sweetly at him as she heard some unintelligible reply from the other side of the door, as if trying to cheer him up, yuki patted him on the shoulder, "good luck mate" she whispered.

cherryl heard the door to the flat slam, and some movement could be heard behind her own. ten sank to the floor, no other choice, resting his back against the door that separated him from the girl. He knocked cautiously, waiting for any response.

"cher-cher, let's talk."

ten's voice was like honey in her ears as always, but she don't want to talk now. she was a little hurt, quite upset and had a bad headache.

"i don't want to talk now, i don't want anything..." she mumbled more to herself than to him. "...not to think, not to see, not to hear."

ten furrowed his brow, not particularly pleased with the barely intelligible babble of words. it looked like getting out of this situation was going to be a little harder than he expected since he was the only one talking.

"well," he took a deep breath before he began. "i'll do the talking then."

a chuckle was heard from behind the door, and ten smiled. he made himself comfortable by the door, his gaze drilling a picture of the three friends: anette with her sparkling hair, yuki showing her tongue to the photographer, and his cherry in the centre, she was hugging her friends, a red cup in her right hand, a bright smile on face.

"you see, cher-cher. everything in the world is a little more complicated than we expect. work, study, friendship, music, literature... and relationships too." he expected at least some sort of reaction from her.

cherry on the other hand closed her eyes, just trying to clear her head of unnecessary things while ten developed his thought.

"so, when people don't agree on things, you know, it's totally normal. because to be together with someone with whom you agree on everything is to stop evolving. because if you gave in to me every time you argued with me, i'd get bored. and so would you. vous savez ce que je veux dire, cherry?"

cherry hums, in fact, he was making a point, she understands that. and ten, without waiting for an answer, continues to speak.

"so this probably won't be the last time you and i fight. But, that doesn't mean we're going to be at each other's throats, pulling out shreds of hair and blowing our voices from screaming. the last one can be done in a more pleasant way," ten heard a chuckle, meaning he was clearly heading in the right direction. "it means that you and i are separate individuals, with our own views on life, and to some extent standing our ground is sometimes the right thing to do. because if you live in a complete idyll where no one ever says "no", then i'm afraid we'll break up." he was silent for a second, cherry tensed up, trying to hear the slightest rustle outside the door."et je ne veux pas de ça, cher-cher."

cherryl thought he was right. after all, you can't always agree on everything, then it would probably be a lie, which is worse than any truth. so they quarrelled once, cherry obviously isn't going to give it up halfway through, and neither will ten.

"ten," she said something to him for the first time in the long time they'd been sitting on opposite sides of the door. "i'll open the door, so be careful."

standing up, she more or less tried to wipe the dripping mascara off her face, but it was a pitiful sight, and her overall appearance left too far from desired － one stocking had come off to her knee, skirt was a little wrinkled, and hair was in a complete mess.

"hey, ten," she called out, resting her forehead against the wall by the door. "i look like a some kid's nightmare."

"open the damn door already. i swear, if you're not in some unicorn pajamas, you're going to really regret what you said."

cherry smiled, yes, that was her ten, inhaled deeply and pressed the door handle. the first thing she saw was a tired look on ten's face, but he was still smiling.

"you're smiling like some fool."

"and you're not wearing unicorn pajamas."

they stood like that for a while, just staring at each other, not taking a step towards each other, until ten holds out his hand to her.

she sinks into his embrace with pleasure, ten warm compared to the piercing cold of her bedroom, cradling her tightly, muttering something into her hair.

"cher-cher, regarde-moi."

she pulls her head away from his shoulder to look into his eyes. ten notices that her eyes are red from crying, he gently stroke her cheek.

"are we okay?"

"are we okay?" she teased him.

ten bends down to kiss her as cherry wraps her arms around his neck. he kisses her long because he doesn't want to let go, the girl puts her hand on his cheek, and so a couple more minutes gone by before they were interrupted by a message coming to her phone from yuki.

"are you two lovebirds done already, because anie and i are freezing our asses off."

cherry laughs and shows the message to ten, he joins her after giving her a final kiss.

"you can tell them to walk around a bit more. fresh air is good for health."

ten smiles at her with that same sly cat smile she loves so much, unable to help herself she kisses him again.

In the end, he put her in the right place.

slowly spinning in the setting light of the february sun, cherry felt butterflies flutter in her stomach. her hands slid up his shoulders until palm rested on the back of ten's neck, her fingers tracing the frizzy black hair. they had already grown back a lot since autumn, but cherry liked this new look of the lad, nothing seemed to spoil it.

"ten."

his eyes closed, they were so close his noses were touching, and on hearing his name boy smiled and hummed back. now he seemed so carefree and calm and... even content with something. cherry rubs her nose against his, which elicits a quiet chuckle, and ten presses her closer.

"beautiful stranger."

his eyes, dark brown glinting in the sunset light, open momentarily and the smile comes off his face. she wondered why.

"you haven't called me that in a while."

it came to her belatedly that he was right, anything but a beautiful stranger. perhaps because he is no longer the stranger who comes to their café in the summer. this is her ten － heart, soul and all that.

he's like a candy bar, stuck between her teeth, so sweet. like a light spring breeze, warm, enveloping the scent of leaves. like her favourite cherry to wait all year.

"indeed."

cherry gives in slightly forward, nestling against his lips. It still tastes like the wine and lemon pie they ate. ten always eagerly responds because cherry rarely initiated contact herself, he was literally able to count such times on his fingers, but not at all in rebuke to her.

he peppers kisses on her face and neck, hearing the ringing laughter in ears, sweet like honey. it's hard to believe that everything is happening in her small room, even though no one else is in the flat.

falling onto the bed they continue kissing, exploring all the exposed skin with their hands, cherry lovingly tracing the tattoos on his arms, feeling the muscles relief under her fingers. his touch spreads warmth all over her body, making her want only to be even closer.

"ten," his lips touch her collarbone and neck, moving higher and higher until he finds her lips again.

"ten, stay please," she whispers, only a few millimeters between their faces, eye to eye, she sees a fraction of incomprehension in his gaze, so he just leans in to kiss girl once more.

"i'll stay, why ask for it?"

hugging him a little tighter, cherryl can't let him go.

they lay like this for several hours until the day changed to evening and the evening to night. ten had long since fallen asleep, his head resting on cherry's shoulder, listening to her heartbeat, palm resting over waist.

carefully brushing his hair away from eyes, cherry speaks aloud, more to herself, not even thinking about the fact that he is asleep:

"my beautiful stranger, stay with me forever."

"then you will have to stay with me too"

she didn't expect an answer from him, lips touching her bare shoulder, cherry settling in a little more comfortably, pulling ten against her only closer.

it seems like it's finally safe for her to fully fall in love.

#wayv #nct #au #imagine #nct ten imagine #ten lee au #ten lee fluff #strangers to lovers au #ten lee angst #hurt/comfort #ten lee fanfic

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cultofdionysusnet · 1 year

Text

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ficrec Week 5: Strangers To Lovers

ATEEZ

four in the morning. by @ateezmakemeweep (M)

violet roses by @bngchnsi (M)

Fic 3: 'You're Such A Tease' by @whatudowhennooneseesyou (M)

Kishi Kaisei by @flurrys-creativity (M)

My Heros by @anyamaris

Addicting Kitten by @tenelkadjowrites (M)

♥ Lonely in Gorgeous ♥ by @tenelkadjowrites (M)

Everyday at the Bus Stop ♡ by @tenelkadjowrites (M)

Stray Kidz

Tomorrow X Together

Others

#cultofdionysusnet #ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Fanfiction Recommendations #CoDN Week 5 #Strangers to Lovers AU #strangers to lovers au #strangers to lovers #ateez #stray kids #txt

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sweetestofchaos · 2 years

Text

Request 26

1.6K ~ SFW ~ Fluff ~ S2L ~Prince Joshua would like nothing more than to have you to himself...forever.

Part Two ❥ Moodboard

A/N: I had to break this into two part ‘cause this boy is long

As the moon above guides the way, you stare off in the distance and frown as the only place you’ve known as home gets smaller and smaller. A cool breeze blows making you shiver and a sudden warmth wraps around your shoulders, followed by a light weight. Another weight rests on your right shoulder and you lean into the new support, the frown slowly melting away.

“Do you regret leaving it all behind?”

“No.”

“Do you regret loving me?”

You turn around in the arms holding you and stare up into a set of dark brown eyes boring into you through a curtain of pink hair. “I will never regret loving you.” Reaching up, you cup your lovers face between your hands and pull him forward, “Never utter such words again.” Not waiting to hear his response, you press your lips to his and share your first of many kisses as a free couple.

It’s one of the hottest days in the Kingdom and you are sitting in the shade under a large oak tree with a blanket beneath you. Your best friend since childhood, which just go happens to be the Princess of the Kingdom lays with her head in your lap you read one of your favorite books out loud. The shade shields her tan skin from the harsh rays of the sun, and you make sure to keep an eye open for any signs of overheating while you read. Your soothing words are soon interrupted by the sound of someone calling for the Princess. Turning your head, you spot one of the royal butlers, Jungkook running towards you with a look of panic on his face. Closing your book, you set it aside and help the Princess sit up before you stand and offer your hand.

“What is all the fuss about Jungkook?” Princess Shay questions, her dark shinning green eyes glaring at the younger butler. She always hates it when her free time is interrupted,

Jungkook bows deeply and nearly falls over as he tries to catch his breath, “F-forgive me Princess. The King has asked for an audience with you in the throne room, immediately.”

“Father?” Princess Shay glances over at you and you shrug your shoulder. “I will leave you to this, Jungkook. Y/N, come along.” Offering Jungkook a parting smile, you mutter an apology for leaving him to clean up the mess from your picnic. Staying three steps behind the Princess, you follow her into the throne room and bow before the King before you step off to the side. “Father!” Princess Shay smiles widely. “I’ve missed you. Welcome home.”

“My beautiful daughter, look how much you have grown in my absence…” The King stares at his daughter fondly before he sighs and beckons over his steward. The older man, Edward, steps in front of the Princess and offers her a letter. “Go on, Shay. It is for you.” You notice the hesitation in the Princess’ actions as she slowly opens the letter with a wax seal of which you have seen before. Silently the Princess reads over the words and when she is finished, she sighs.

“Father…why would I care about a Prince from another nation coming to our Kingdom? Is it not just another peace treaty to be signed in good faith?”

“My dear, you are of the perfect age for marriage. I think it would be wise for you to entertain the young Prince. He is only three years older than you.”

There is to be a large ball held in honor of the young Prince from overseas. His name is Prince Joshua and the tales of his beauty soundly rivel that of the Princess’; to which she is outraged.

“A man?! Prettier than me? How ludicrous!” Princess Shay rolls her eyes as you brush her hair gently detailing the knots once she finished her bath for the ball this evening. “Y/N, do you think he’s prettier that me?”

You smile at your friend and pat her shoulder, “I don’t know what he looks like Princess.” She pouts at your words, and you giggle. “Will you reject his hand if he is?”

“I refuse to marry him at all! I highly doubt that this Prince Joshua will live up to my expectations.” Princess Shay sighs as you start to fashion her hair into twists and turns on top of her head. You smile at her words and continue to help her get ready for the ball. “Go, go. I can get a maid to help me finish. I expect you dressed in your finest attire for tonight, Y/N.”

“As you wish, Princess.” You offer her a smile and small bow before you leave and head to your room in the castle. As the daughter of the late Duke Wise, you were taking in by the King and offered a job to sever under the Princess as the head lady in waiting. Still able to keep your title of Duchess, you happily took the job seeing it as your chance to spend more time with your friend. Once in your room, you quickly bathe in sunflower scented water and comb out your thick curls, taking extra caution to not let your hair touch the water more than it has to. Finished with bathing, you lather your special coco butter on to your skin, to lock in its moisture before you decide on what to wear for the ball. All your dresses are nice, but only one is fitting enough to meet a Prince in.

The dress is pastel pink, the corset bodice a mix of lace and silk while the rest of the fabric flare out at your hips and kisses the floor. Your shoulders are exposed as the sleeves hang low, nearing your elbows; to combat this you choose a simple pearl necklace that holds your families crest engraved in a large amethyst that rests in the hallow of your throat. Sitting before your mirror, you brush your hair up high and use your favorite pearl clips to pin your hair out of your face. Staring at your reflection, you quickly apply your makeup and finish your look with a once over.

A knock at your door pulls you from your inspection and you call out for whoever to enter you chambers. Jungkook steps in with a smile on his face once he sees you, “Y/N! You look beautiful, Duchess!” You smile at your friend as he offers you his hand to escort you to the ball room. “Are you excited to meet Prince Joshua?”

“Me? He’s here for Shay, not me. I am merely a statue in the background.” Jungkook shakes his head at your words and squeezes your hand.

“A statue, really? You must think higher of yourself, my dear Duchess.” Jungkook leads you towards the ball room and kisses your hand before the doors open, “You are the prettiest flower I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Heat attacks your face at Jungkook’s words and when you look down at your joined hands you notice the ring on his finger. “Jungkook-” Before you can ask your question, you are announced and Jungkook smiles as he releases your hand at the door. Slapping a smile onto your face, you enter the ballroom and greet everyone as you make your way to Princess Shay’s side.

“You look amazing, Y/N! I wish I could look that good in pink.” Princess Shay grabs your hand, and you lean into whisper in her ear.

“I think Jungkook might know more about Prince Joshua.”

“What? How?”

You make sure that no one is listening before you speak. “When you get the chance, look at the ring on Jungkook’s finger. It’s the same at the Prince’s crest.”

You left the ball early, not feeling well and you were a little upset that you weren’t able to meet Prince Joshua at all. You wanted to see if all the whispered words about his beauty were true; though you were sure they were if Jungkook and he were from the same nation. Your thoughts were soon proven right when you saw Jungkook laughing outside with an unknown man. Spotting you, Jungkook waved you over and you offered a curtsy to the man.

“Wonwoo this is my friend, Duchess Y/N. Duchess, this is my cousin Jeon Wonwoo. He is one of Prince Joshua’s knights.”

“Ah, so this the Duchess that you spoke so highly of in all your letters home?” Jungkook’s face flushes bright red at his cousin’s words and you laugh, offering Wonwoo your hand. He takes it and brings your hand to his lips before he places a small kiss to your knuckles. “Duchess Y/N it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I dare say, Jungkook did your beauty little justice with his words.”

“Wonwoo!” Jungkook whines and you smile as the two start to bicker back and forth.

“Wonwoo!” A new voice calls for your attention and you see the way that Wonwoo as well as Jungkook’s back straighten as a man with soft pink hair walks towards you. “And who might this hidden flower be?”

Wonwoo clears his throat and offers you his hand to which to take. “This is the heir to the throne of our land, Prince Joshua.” Wonwoo states proudly and you quickly lower you gaze, dropping into a deep curtsy. “Prince, this young lady is-”

Prince Joshua holds his hand up to silence Wonwoo and steps in front of you. You feel fingers graze your chin lightly and slowly force your head to rise. Your eyes stare into Prince Joshua’s deep brown eyes and every thought in your head vanishes.

“Your name, petal?”

“D-Duchess Y/N, your highness.”

#dark light #soc joshua #seventeen angst #kpop ambw #fantasy au #royal au #request 26 #strangers to lovers au #part one #wonwoo #jungkook

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slashyrogue · 1 year

Text

Will doesn't know why he's here.

The teachers' conference had been postponed seven times in the past year, mostly because no one wanted to be stuck in Alaska listening to speakers telling them things they already knew.

Not even if they got paid.

He'd declined the last few years, mostly using the dogs as an excuse, but when Bev got sick just before the new dates changed to Christmas week she volunteered to watch his pack.

"Bev..."

"Go, Will," she said, coughing, "Go away from this sad house, get drunk, and maybe make a few friends out of your coworkers."

Will reluctantly agrees to go, despite being one of only four who said yes, and flied to Alaska with Gregory, Edgar, and Elisa all of which are in their late sixties to seventies and teach Shop, Gym, Math, and Home Economics while him being the lone science teacher made them all look at him oddly.

So now he's stuck, mostly alone, but in a very nice resort with people he has no desire to talk to.

Not a great Christmas week for him.

The second day had been a chore, long and boring the entire time, so now as he sat down by the fire he only hoped no one came to talk to him.

"Is this seat taken?"

Will looked up, ready to say yes, and blinked his cheeks turning red.

"I...um...no?"

The man that sat down beside him was dressed to the nines, his clothes so expensive looking that Will was sure he didn't belong here, and as he sipped from his mug Will was at a loss for words. He stared at him out of the corner of his eye, unable to stop, and wondered just where the most handsome man he'd ever seen had been hiding the last two days.

"Are you enjoying the conference?"

Will blinked. "What?"

The man smiled at him. "The conference," he repeated, his accent making Will's stomach flip, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Will blushed. "I...um..."

He sipped his mug, still eyeing Will, who then let out a long sigh.

"No, no, not at all," he said, laughing, "If I have to listen to one more old man tell me that 'kids these days' need nothing but a sharp paddle I think I might stab someone."

The man laughed. "Yes, I....I agree. I just had to run from another group of people lamenting the 'horrors of the internet' like progress is a monster under their beds."

Will sighed. "Finally, someone who doesn't think progress is a bad thing."

"No, not at all, I...I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself," the man said, holding out his hand for Will to take.

Will took his hand, the strength of his grip doing things to Will, and shook.

"Will Graham."

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Doctor?" Will asked, "What...I mean...what do you teach?"

Hannibal smiled. "I am a guidance counselor. Yourself?"

Will blushed, pushing his glasses up his face. "Biology."

"We both help young people learn things about their bodies then, though I deal in their mind and feelings and you...tell them everything else."

Will smiled. "I guess," he said, "I...I still can't believe they made this near Christmas. Most people have things to do."

"And families to come home to," Hannibal finished, his smile fading.

Will frowned. "I didn't mean to change the subject or bring down the room. I just..."

"You didn't, Will, I assure you. I just...I suppose I lament at times not being able to use a family as an excuse."

"You don't..."

"My immediate family have long since passed, and I am unattached. Yourself?"

"Same," he said, "I guess we're just a couple of sad, single people."

"I wouldn't call myself sad," Hannibal said, sipping his mug, "Just...lonesome at times."

"Yeah."

They both looked at the fire.

"So...."

"Oh Hannibal, where are you?"

Hannibal froze.

"I...."

Will looked around and spotted a woman walking through the crowd. he quickly grabbed Hannibal's hand, pulling and the two of them ran for the stairs. He resisted the urge to laugh as they ran and went right to his room opening with his keycard. They ran inside, shutting it, and leaned against the door panting for breath.

They looked at each other, still breathing heavy, and before Will could even second guess himself, he kissed him. It was a messy kiss, years of not kissing at all making him rusty, but he grabbed Hannibal's tie pulling him toward the bed where they both fell back. Neither of them said a word as they pulled off clothes, and before long Will was stroking a stranger's cock, staring into crimson eyes, and groaning as Hannibal pulled back to take him into his mouth. He pulled his hair hard, making Hannibal groan, and came with a shout feeling like he'd run a marathon. Hannibal crawled closer, and Will reached for him, stroking fast, and they kissed again just as he came in Will's palm.

Both of them tried to catch their breaths after, staring into each other's eyes, and burst out laughing as they laid there.

"So," Will said, smiling, "That happened."

"Yes, it did."

"It was...."

"Amazing."

"Yeah," Will said, kissing him again, "It was pretty great."

Hannibal took Will's hand, licking his own mess from Will's palm, and Will sighed.

"Would you be averse to...doing it again?"

Will shook his head. "No?"

Hannibal kissed his cheek. "I'm glad to hear it. May I stay?"

"Stay," Will said, still smiling, "Stay."

Hannibal smiled, touching his cheek. "I will, though I think we need a shower. Lest we fell asleep messily."

Will nodded. "Ok."

The shower as fast, and somehow Will found himself on his knees sucking off a stranger even as Hannibal struggled to come a second time, and after Hannibal kissed him so much he was dizzy with it.

He collapsed first but Hannibal hugged him so tightly from behind he could hardly keep his eyes open.

"Breakfast?" he mumbled, "In the morning?"

"Any requests?"

Will sighed, his eyes heavy. "Other than you?"

Hannibal kissed his cheek. "I will surprise you."

Will woke up to Hannibal eating him out, and covered his mouth when he came, shouting out as his orgasm was ripped from him. He moaned as Hannibal rutted against him after, not thrusting inside but the friction was so good he almost felt like he was.

He sighed loudly after, smiling up at the ceiling, and Hannibal kissed his cheek.

"I suppose we are no longer bored now."

Will grinned at him. "No at all."

"What do you suppose we continue this for the duration of our stay? No strings, just..."

"Fun?"

"Yes."

He kissed him, touching his cheek. "Definitely yes."

"I think, perhaps, we're about to think differently about this conference."

Will laughed. "Very, very, differently. I think maybe Santa came...early...for us both."

Hannibal kissed him again. "I think so too, Will. I think so too."

Will looked into his eyes, heart skipping a beat.

"Stay? Just for another few hours?"

"We'll miss our conference meetings this morning."

"And?"

Hannibal pulled him close, and Will sighed laying his head on Hannibal's chest. "I think perhaps this a much better use of our time here."

"Me too," Will sighed, nuzzling his chest hair, "Me too.

#hannigram au #christmas getaway #hannigram #hallmark movie au #teachers au #strangers to lovers au #strangers with benefits

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fuckyeah-dragrace · 2 years

Note

7 with jasco for those K I S S prompts

Some more strangers to lovers to feed the soul. Also definitely some projection on Boscos end because I’ve been stuck in my car since 9am 🥲

7. Kiss to shut them up

Bosco could tolerate a lot, but even she was at her wits end. They’d been driving for hours trying to find a beach but were met with every single one not allowing swimming. Whatever gods Bosco pissed off, had given enough punishment as Jasmine grew more whiny in the car.

“Boscoooo!” Jasmine said, almost on queue. Bosco gripped the wheel tighter and hummed, nodding to get Jasmine to rant again for the fifth time that hour.

“Are we any closer? I’m so tired!” Jasmine whined, her voice digging into Boscos head. She liked her girlfriend, she really did, but good god she was tired on hearing the complaints.

“Not since the last time you whined.” Bosco said, staring off at the seemingly endless traffic in front of their car. Jasmine groaned.

“Are your sure? And I’m not whining! I’m just sooo bored and tired.” Jasmine said, slightly offended as Bosco rolled their eyes. They ran a hand through their black hair, tempted to rip it out but decided against it.

“Are you even listening to me? Bosco are you sure we didn’t mis-“ Jasmine tried to say but was silenced by Boscos lips smashing against hers. Her eyes went wide as Bosco pulled away chuckling.

“God, I love you babe but please shut up for five minutes.” They asked, completely exasperated.

Bosco went back and looked at the road, thankful that they were at least going faster now. Jasmine sat stunned in her seat, fingertips touching her lips. She smiled behind her hand as Bosco seemed to relax. Quiet filled the car before Jasmine decided to ask.

“So you love me?”

#nat answers #jasmine kennedie #bosco #Jasco #for missvanjiebitchh #strangers to lovers au

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sparklehoney7 · 1 year

Text

Cut to the Chase

by: deepslowpanic

pairing: namjoon/jungkook

info: one shot (5,824)

tags: Strangers to Lovers // Pining // horny thoughts // Misunderstandings // Awkward Flirting // jungkook is a good friend // Running // But not away just like the sport // Friends to Lovers // Getting Together // Fluff and Humor // Fake Injury // jungkook is dramatic // Namjoon is really nice // Making Out // Frottage // Massage // Hand Jobs

summary: “Isn’t he dreamy?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah,” Jungkook grunts. He agrees, even though he hates that he has to. Because he is dreamy, he just doesn’t really want Jimin to think so too. “He seems totally into you,” Jungkook admits. Because of course Namjoon does, who wouldn’t be into Park Jimin? “You shouldn’t worry.”

“You think so?” Jimin asks, turning to Jungkook with a smile. There’s so much hopefulness there that Jungkook can’t find it in himself to really be mad.

“Definitely,” he agrees. “He likes you, you should go for it.”

-OR-

When Jimin drags Jungkook to his morning running club to be his “wingman”, Jungkook doesn’t expect to meet the most attractive man he’s ever seen. It’s just his bad luck that Jimin is totally into the guy.

link

#bts fic #fic rec #namkook #one shot #strangers to lovers au

0 notes

penny00dreadful · 3 months

Text

And They Were Roommates!

Part 2 AO3

Steve didn’t hate him exactly.

He was just… vastly irritated by his very presence.

When they’d fallen into being roommates with Eddie, Steve and Robin were just happy to have anywhere to live.

They’d spent a few weeks living in the ageing BMW after they’d gotten booted by their previous landlord when the rent had spiked again and they couldn’t afford to pay it anymore.

Then Dustin had come to them saying he had a friend that had a spare bedroom that he needed to fill and they had jumped at the chance.

It wasn’t a terrible apartment, all things considered.

The bathroom needed a bimonthly mould clean out and the water pressure was nonexistent. It was almost always colder inside than it was outside, no matter how hot the weather got and the front door had clear signs of being broken down before, with a new lock haphazardly slapped over where the old one had been but it was shockingly quiet and secluded.

A small and unassuming building that people tended to glance over sitting close enough to the city centre so that everything was within walking distance. It was twice the size of the place Steve and Robin had lived before, an open plan kitchen and sitting room with enough room for a dining table creating a barrier between the two.

A nice dining table too.

One that could fit more than two people.

Two bedrooms, one bathroom.

Eddie had apparently wrinkled his nose at the idea of sharing with a couple but Steve and Robin weren’t about to correct him. He was a completely unknown person who seemed to make it his mission to look mean and scary, no matter what Dustin said about him.

So Steve refused to feel bad about making assumptions.

But the guy was less mean and scary and mostly just annoying.

He left his shit everywhere, like he’d never heard of fucking organisation before. And he was so loud and exuberant all the time. Like yeah, they guy could enjoy his passions or whatever but that didn’t mean Steve had to like being an unwilling participant in it.

When Robin moved out, Steve stayed even though it was clear Eddie would have preferred if he'd gone too.

He wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate was a lot.

And he certainly wasn’t going to give up a good place just because his roommate kept dropping hints he wanted his special someone to move in and Steve to move out.

Steve would show Eddie the meaning of stubborn.

They bickered like an old married couple constantly and Steve couldn’t exactly say that he hadn’t risen to the bait or caused his own fair share of problems between the two of them either.

Things had only marginally shifted once Eddie had proudly stuck up a flyer advertising the set list for the Pride Parade After Party that his band had somehow been signed to perform at.

When he caught Steve looking at it one morning he’d levelled him with his smuggest smile, like he’d just won some kind of argument. Like he was just waiting for Steve to go on a homophobic rant and run out of the apartment, never to return.

“Got a problem there, Stevie boy?”

Eddie crossed his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter with a feral look in his eyes, itching for a fight.

Steve had just turned to him with his sharpest, most cutting grin and lifted open the zippered side of his bomber jacket, revealing his bi pride flag patch sewn to the inner pocket.

“No.”

Eddie had glared at the patch like it had personally offended him before storming off to his room with a scowl.

After that, the barbs thrown at each other had gotten a little more… queer.

After one particularly frustrating argument, Steve had snapped at Eddie “I know how to keep a fucking shower drain clean, Mary.” before snatching his keys up and slamming the door behind him.

When Steve had finally seen fit to talk to Eddie again, nearly two full days later, huffing at him to hurry up in the kitchen, he wanted some coffee, Eddie had turned with the most exaggerated face of surprise and his hands thrown up in shock as he proclaimed, “She speaks!”

Steve had rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Jesus, you’re such a queen.”

Eddie had levelled him with his own cutting smile and responded, “That I am, darling.”

After that their arguments were full of a lot more condescending and patronising ‘Mary’s and ‘sweetie’s and ‘oh, honey’s.

It gave Steve the strangest feeling of companionship. Not only with Eddie, loathe as he was to admit it, but also with the culture and with the queers of old who were still around, who’d had to kick and spit and fight just to be seen.

Eddie had been buzzing around the apartment all day.

It was A Big Date Night™ apparently.

He was gonna ask the boyfriend to take a road trip with him back to Indiana to meet Wayne, a big step that he’d never made with a partner before.

Steve liked Wayne. But he liked even more how irritated Eddie was that they spoke. Wayne had called the apartment one day looking for his nephew and when Steve answered he heard the sounds of a game in the background and asked about it.

It was over forty five minutes later Steve turned to find Eddie staring at him with a horrified expression on his face and Steve couldn’t help the evil glint in his eye as he continued to debate Wayne on their favourite players.

But Eddie had left hours ago now and it was getting… late.

Really, really late.

Like four in the morning late and he hadn’t come home yet.

He was supposed to, he needed to be up the next morning for his shift at the nerd shop he worked at and he loved that job. He wouldn't miss it for anything.

Steve wasn’t like, worried or anything.

Not that Eddie needed to be babied, he wasn’t one of his kids.

He was just… looking out for the safety of another human being.

The only light in the dark apartment was coming from the low glow of the tv and it was so quiet there was barely a sound coming from the speaker. Steve was curled up on the couch, swaddled in a throw and his mind kept drifting.

He couldn’t pay attention to whatever was playing, his brain just kept catastrophising about what the fuck could have happened to make Eddie so late.

He nearly jumped out of his skin and simultaneously felt his body unclench when he heard a key in the lock and recognised Eddie's wild head of hair coming into the apartment.

But that didn’t last long because Eddie caught the door before it could close with a loud snap like it usually did, shutting it slowly and softly behind him.

It was alarming because Eddie never remembered to close the door quietly, no matter how much Steve bitched at him. And it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, Steve knew that, it’s just that his mind was most often somewhere else, focused on some other thing so that he simply… forgot.

Eddie cursed low to himself as he slumped into the kitchen, pulling the freezer door open and rummaging around for a bit before pulling something out.

He kept his head low, hair spilling out around his face as he jumped up onto the counter and sat.

He still hadn’t noticed Steve sitting there, watching the whole exchange under the dim flickering light of the television.

It looked like Eddie had snatched up a bag of Steve’s frozen peas. And they were Steve’s. Because Eddie didn’t eat anything green unless it was artificially coloured and covered in sugar.

Eddie squeezed the peas in hand hands, considering, before he muttered to himself, “so fucking stupid” and brought them up to rest on the side of his face.

That kicked Steve into action, unfurling himself from the couch, keeping his throw around his shoulders because it was fucking cold and he padded over to the kitchen in his fluffy socks.

“Eddie?”

Frozen peas scattered, skittling across the tiled floor, landing in the sink, ricocheting off the cupboard doors and clattering off the walls as Eddie jumped violently at the sound of his name, softly spoken as it was.

He’d snapped his head up and Steve could see, in the dim light of the tv behind him, unusual darkness spreading over Eddie’s face, like a stain on his pale skin.

Eddie tightened his hands again around the now mostly empty bag, looking back down at it.

“‘M sorry about your peas.” He mumbled.

Steve could only blink in response.

Eddie wasn’t supposed to mumble.

He wasn’t supposed to be quiet and subdued and wilted.

He was supposed to be loud and brash and tawdry and bright.

“I’m gonna turn the light on, okay?” Steve tried to keep any rising panic and worry out of his voice, tried to keep himself calm and level. He could barely just make out the small nod Eddie gave after a beat of hesitation.

The light was harsh and painful after so long spent in mostly darkness and Steve had to squint through his glasses waiting for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he felt his stomach drop.

Eddie's face was scrunched up as he tried to blink through brightness but that wasn’t what caught Steve’s attention.

Because there was blood crusting on the side of Eddie’s face, settled around his eye and in his hair from a gash over his eyebrow. His lip was split and puffy and swollen and his cheek was slowly blooming from red to purple.

“You should see the other guy.” Eddie grinned with a wince, when he noticed Steve cataloguing, but his eyes stayed distant and sad.

“What…” Steve stepped closer, hovering his hand over the injuries, over his hair. “What happened?”

Eddie shrugged, dipping his eyes back down to the melting bag of peas in his hands. “We had a disagreement.”

Steve looked down too and gently took the peas out of his grip, placing the bag in the sink next to them.

It was only then that he noticed Eddie’s knuckles were bloodied as well, split and starting to swell.

He had to swallow against the sickening anger coiling in his throat as he closed a gentle hand around Eddie’s cold fingers and he tugged it over to the sink, turning the tap on.

“Your peas-”

“Fuck the fucking peas, Eddie!” Steve snapped before trying to reel himself back in when Eddie flinched, nearly pulling his hand away but stopping himself at the last moment.

With the softest movements he could manage, Steve got Eddie’s fingers as soapy as he could before slowly working his rings left and right, pulling them off his fingers.

“What are you doing?” It wasn’t quite a whisper but the question was low, almost like a hum.

“Your fingers are going to start to swell soon. I can leave them on if you’d rather have them cut off later?” Steve looked up to see Eddie watching their hands working together under the dribble of the tap.

He shook his head.

“Well okay then.” He tugged the last ring free and examined them, silver and wet and heavy in his palm.

There was still some dried blood in the grooves.

“Did you at least get him good with these?” He gestured to them before placing them carefully to the side and gently towling Eddie’s injured hand dry.

A smirk tugged at the uninjured side of Eddie’s mouth. “You’re damn right I did.”

Steve gave a short sharp nod, placing Eddie’s hand back in his lap. “Good.”

He moved over to the freezer, pulling out his own cold compress which Eddie hadn’t chosen for some reason and tugging the first aid kit from on top of the fridge.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” He said, trying to keep his voice even and his posture lighthearted as he laid the stuff out next to Eddie’s leg. He pulled their second drawer open and took a clean dish towel out, running it under the tap.

“Why, Stevie? You worried about me?” Eddie tried to grin but it quickly turned into a grimace as Steve pressed the damp cloth against the cut on his eyebrow, his lips turning down.

“Don’t be precious about it, honey. Just tell me. I’ll never stop pestering you until you do.” He pulled the cloth away and started gently brushing it across Eddie’s skin, trying to remove as much of the dried blood as he could.

“Alright, alright, keep your wig on.” Eddie huffed and pulled his mouth into a frown before shrugging again. ”Well I’m single now.”

Steve managed to keep his hands working, only halting for just a second as the words hit him. “Rick did this?”

“Yep.” Eddie said with a pop. “Everything was going good, you know. Standard date stuff, whatever. Then I asked him to come meet Wayne and he looked at me. Said, and I quote; ‘What exactly do you think this is?’”

Eddie snorted and shook his head.

Steve was forced to pull the cloth away to stop tugging on the broken skin. “Wait so-”

“So apparently I’ve been seeing this whole thing as more serious than it was. Apparently I’ve been putting feelings where there were none. And get this,” he grabbed Steve’s hand, stalling his movements again and forcing him to look into those giant deep brown eyes, “he’s married.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open in an indignant stare. “No.”

“Yeah. I know, right? I’ve been the other woman this whole time.” He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “Just a bit of fun.” He tongued at his split lip. "And it's my problem, my fault that I didn't figure it out, according to him." He shook his head, forcing Steve to retract his hand from around his eye. "The fucker took his wedding band off every time we met, so…"

Rather than grabbing Eddie gently by the chin, which he was really, quite horrifyingly tempted to do, he instead said, "Be a dear and stop moving."

Eddie levelled him with a glare but there wasn't much behind it, it was all performative even as he tutted and started twisting the chain on his jeans around in his fingers. But he stopped moving his head.

"So how did that lead to this?"

Eddie scoffed. "How do you think, Mary? I got mad."

"Well good. You should've been mad. Did you throw the first punch?"

"Technically?" Eddie hummed in consideration. "Yes. But he had his hands on me before that soo…"

Steve froze, he couldn’t help it.

What the fuck?

"In what way?" He kept his voice light but the bright white concern underneath was like a foghorn.

Eddie shrugged again and turned his head, giving Steve more access to the blood crusted above his ear and into his hairline.

Then he leaned forward just a little bit more until his forehead was resting against Steve's shoulder.

Steve reached back to pull Eddie's hair out of the way, over the back of his neck so he could clean up his hairline.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, the silence wasn't tense but it wasn't calm either. It was anticipatory. Eddie was building himself up to answer.

"He didn't see a problem with the situation, I mean obviously he didn't see a problem with the situation so he just wanted to… continue, I suppose. We'd been… experimenting with switching before this and he tried to go full dom on me. Kept trying to get me to submit." Eddie's voice had started to shake even though he tried valiantly to keep it down and it made Steve wonder just how long he'd been keeping it down already.

Steve dropped the cloth off in the sink and brought a hand up, resting it on the back of Eddie's still bent head, making sure not to cage him in, making sure to keep his touches light and gentle but still there if he wanted them.

"I didn't- I didn't want to anymore but he just kept going and I told him he wasn't asking my consent, he was demanding it. He said I had to do what he wanted because he was in charge and that’s how it works-”

“Eddie, that is not how it works-”

“Yes, thank you, darling. I know that. I told him that wasn't what's done, no matter the dynamics and he was just getting more and more pissed off, like I was ruining his fun and he wouldn’t get off of me so I just… fucking decked him." Eddie laughed, a terrible broken thing. “I thought… I thought we had… it had been so good while… why can’t I have… why does it always have to end like this?”

His voice had become harsher, more defeated as he went on, cracking and pitching along the words until the end. Until a heart wrenching choked off sound was pulled from his throat.

Eddie was weeping softly into Steve’s shoulder and his hands were twitching in his lap, like he wanted to reach out, like he wanted some comfort but didn’t know if he was allowed.

But he must have decided he didn’t care if he was allowed or not because the next second he’d thrown his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him in tight, sniffling openly and freely into his neck.

Steve took the tiniest of steps closer and wound his arms around Eddie’s middle, bypassing his leather jacket and battle vest, snaking his arms underneath until there was just the threadbare band t-shirt between them.

He ran a hand up and down Eddie’s back as he shook, while Eddie just clutched on tighter.

“Why does it always have to be… why can’t I… why…” a terrible little sob broke out of Eddie’s throat. “Why does no one ever want me the way I want them?”

Steve had to pinch his eyes shut against the pure heartbreak in his voice, coming out halting and thick and so small.

He just held him tighter, whispering little placating words and small shushes that he felt more in his chest than he did his throat.

He hesitated for just a moment before placing a light little kiss to the side of Eddie’s head, into his hair. The same kind of kiss he’d give to Robin or one of the kids if they were in the same situation.

That was all.

“God.” Eddie muttered, pulling back and scrubbing his hands roughly over his eyes and nose, apparently uncaring of his injuries. “Your shirt is fucking disgusting.” He eyed the stains and wet patches and no doubt little traces of blood he’d accidentally left there. “What makes you think that’s an appropriate state to appear in?”

Steve just rolled his eyes, taking the lighthearted jab for what it was, a want to move on, to start snarking again and cracked open the first aid kit.

“Your face is disgusting.”

“Yeah, well. You’re the one who’s been cleaning me up, sweetheart. So, who’s fault is that?”

He glanced up at the cut over Eddie’s eyebrow.

“That might need stitches.”

“No stitches, can’t be bothered with stitches.”

“Stitches not punk enough for you?”

Eddie did glare at him for that.

“Don’t even. You know I’m not a punk.”

Steve grinned at him. “No?”

“Steven.”

Even through the heavy talk, Steve relished the sight of the slight smile that had appeared on Eddie’s face and his return to bitchy banter.

“Edward, is there a difference?” Steve shrugged as he fished for supplies in the kit. “Doesn’t seem to be.”

“To you, maybe.” Eddie flicked at a piece of his hair. “God you’re such a… you’re such a jock.”

“Wow,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “let’s add observant to your list of positives.”

“Assho-ow!” Eddie shrieked as Steve pressed a butterfly bandage over the wound.

“You’re a giant pain in my ass.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Eddie growled at him, irritated and snappy, “you perpetual bottom.”

“Excuse you,” Steve snapped back, “I switch it up. I have versatility."

“Uh-huh.”

“But you gotta admit,” Steve flashed his most charming grin, “it’s a lovely bottom.”

Eddie scoffed but there was a red flush starting to creep up his neck. “S’not like I pay much attention to your bottom.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Steve gave a disappointed sigh, “everyone pays attention to my bottom.”

He didn’t get a response, just a bitchy roll of the eyes.

“You gonna call out of work tomorrow?” He dropped the cloth into the sink and crossed his arms as Eddie leaned back on his hands.

“Why? So you can mother hen me all day? No, thank you.”

“Oh sweetie.” Steve regarded him with mock sympathy. “You think you’d be lucky enough to get my mothering?”

“What if I die in my sleep tonight? You’d be inconsolable.”

“Yeah. Simply devastated.” He said as he all but pushed Eddie off the counter and herded him back to his room.

Part 2 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut (I remember you showing interest for this one but I won't tag you again unless you ask! 😘)

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #robin buckley #enemies to lovers #roommates au #roommates

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sp0o0kylights · 27 days

Text

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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bangaveragewhitewine · 8 months

Text

crazy-mad for you

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers) - Happy Hours series

Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.

A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.

Word count: 16.7 K

Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.

Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️

I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.

Dividers by me ✌️

The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn.

It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips).

Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months.

Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.

You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall.

“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”

“Hey, hotshot.”

The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation.

“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies.

He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”

“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll.

You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig.

It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights).

Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross.

You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air.

“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.

You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.”

“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.

The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.

“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks.

“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks.

“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns, “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..”

“Listen dickh-”

Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.”

“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside.

“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts.

“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips.

The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.

Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was.

An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat.

You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick.

It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish.

When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure.

He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.

As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’

“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter.

You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”

He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.

“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious.

You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”

His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”

You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”

His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago.

On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving.

Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).

The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy.

Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward.

There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain.

You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice.

He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose.

“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on.

Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”

You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.

“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you.

You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch.

“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”

Trip her? Oh. He means you.

“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”

There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control.

Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck.

“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night.

As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall.

“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink.

The whiskey burns but you barely feel it.

“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes.

She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-”

As you take another sip, the door swings open.

Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office.

You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you.

Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by.

It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting.

“Ed…”

He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you.

“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too.

He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy.

“Oh.”

“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.

“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.”

“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare.

Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?”

“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”

The air between you is charged and heavy.

I want to. What does that mean?

Eddie covers himself quickly.

“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.”

You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you.

“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”

He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.

Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.

“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness.

You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.”

He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes.

“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it.

With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task.

“Very gentle,” he murmurs.

“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”

“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.

You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth.

“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other.

“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards.

“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?”

He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.

“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight.

He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass.

“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.

Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body.

“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”

“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”

“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.

“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt.

“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much.

“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.”

He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…

But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.”

With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught.

You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night

The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night.

“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness).

“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself.

“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?”

You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.

“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition.

The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”

“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise.

“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine.

You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.”

“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.”

He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.

“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.

“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”

Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”

“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.”

“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”

“Probably.”

“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”

It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”

“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”

“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”

“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”

“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”

Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.

“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”

“Perv.”

“Witch.”

You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.”

You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad.

“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”

You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live.

“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.”

Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline.

“Rum. And Coke.”

His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Eddie. He was the owner.”

He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working.

“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.”

You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.

“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”

“And a Coke?”

“And a Coke.”

Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand.

“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?”

“I’ve had worse.”

He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs.

“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door.

“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.

The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.

Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.

The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”

Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”

She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”

You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”

Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks.

“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”

The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean.

You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you.

Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie.

“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola.

You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him.

He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip.

“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.”

Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.

“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger.

“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.”

He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew.

The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him.

“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes.

“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.”

You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer.

It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too.

Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”

“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little.

He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.”

You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink.

He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime.

It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside.

The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.

He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently.

“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee.

You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.”

He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.”

Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real.

And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary.

Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out.

Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering.

“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”

“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”

You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.

You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door.

“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door. “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car.

You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on.

You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place.

After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.

You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both.

Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head.

While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.

You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone.

After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case.

It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).

“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne.

“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”

Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.”

Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you.

You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.”

There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.

He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.”

“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on.

The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain.

It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting.

His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag.

“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off.

“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”

You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.”

Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm.

You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours.

“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.

“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning.

His smile makes your tummy flutter.

“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening.

Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”

You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..”

Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks.

“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful.

You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong?

“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly.

The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.

You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”

He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”

Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary.

“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you.

He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?”

“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive.

“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue.

You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat.

You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too.

He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever.

He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word.

You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder.

Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real.

He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp.

Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too.

Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere.

“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again.

“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth.

Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?”

You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper.

He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.”

Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek.

Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.

He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.”

“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did.

“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes.

“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way.

Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms.

When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break.

She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.

The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again).

You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement.

You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson.

With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time...

Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door.

You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager.

After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley…

Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car?

Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief.

“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?”

Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself.

Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter.

“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.”

Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip.

“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over.

Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close.

It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.

You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car.

“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.

“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.”

You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.

“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.”

You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt.

“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”

You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine.

“Well then…” you say quietly.

“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes.

There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly.

Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”

You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”

A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers.

You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along.

He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say.

“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.

“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say.

Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.

You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.”

“You should be so lucky.”

Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss.

“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this…

There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops.

You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.

The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8.

“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through.

“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?”

His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat.

“You gonna behave?”

All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key.

Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass.

A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected.

Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?”

“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath.

“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”

While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way.

Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again.

“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on.

You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself.

“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.

Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”

He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green.

“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter.

Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn.

“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again.

“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?”

You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”

“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.”

Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?”

“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing.

He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…”

Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance.

“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there.

His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip.

You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges.

Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap.

You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”

“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”

You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?”

He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”

Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him.

Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips.

Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you.

Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise.

You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat.

He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes.

Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath.

Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one.

When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time.

His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him.

Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.

“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more.

Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.”

That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle.

“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace.

Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”

His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.”

You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand.

He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..”

Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!”

His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?”

You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.

His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts.

As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction.

His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.

You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes.

“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…”

You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny.

He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press.

His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak.

“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit.

“Fuhhh- Eddie.”

One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man.

His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping.

His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face.

“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss.

Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge.

Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living.

“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter.

“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”

You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow.

“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand.

You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.

Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”

You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that.

Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs.

You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”

“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it.

The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are.

It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you.

His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder.

“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?”

You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full.

Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”

Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…”

“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager.

You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs.

“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him.

You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.

As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving.

Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.

“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”

The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside.

You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch.

“You feel unreal, baby.”

He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest.

After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet.

“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks.

“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.

There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.

You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.

The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob.

Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze.

You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.”

He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door.

“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.

Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer.

He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.

You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers.

Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.

You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong.

“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod.

“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.

He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.”

He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.”

You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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