#black light foxy

[cobalt-axolotl]

The gangs all here

#fnaf #into the fazverse #five nights at freddy's #black light Freddy #nightmare freddy #nightmare foxy #circus baby #fnaf foxy #fnaf chica #fnaf bonnie #fnaf Freddy #black light cupcake #funtime freddy

[loveshotzz]

bartender!eddie x fem!reader Eddie’s night.

🎵my man gives real love that’s why I call him killer, he’s not a ‘wham! bam! thank you ma’am!’ he’s a thriller.🎵

summary: After being stood up on a blind date, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with keeps you company.

word count: 12.6k

warnings: 90’s AU / 18 + no minors! /eddie is in his early 30’s, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi public smut (p in v), cream pie, dirty talk.

authors note: my love letter to the 90’s 💕after one month of brain storming and three weeks of writing here’s part one of Whatta Man! Eddie’s night. (This is a singular one shot. Steve’s night is part two, can you find the easter eggs for his night 😉)Thank you to my very talented friends who always brain storm with me and share ideas. This fun lil AU wouldn’t have happened with you. ily 💗 edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

You didn’t want to go on this date. Not when your roommate set you up, and you certainly didn’t want to go when he picked The Foxy Lounge. But when Weather Man Mike predicted the first warm day after three months of bitter winter you’d take any excuse to wear your favorite dress. 

You’d been here before, always stumbling in after a night out with friends because they were the only 4am place in town. Those late nights turned to early mornings were more of a thing of the past now so when you got to the familiar chipped red door you didn’t recognize the bouncer standing outside. He has a head of honey colored hair that’s just long enough to run his fingers through. His toned frame sits pretty wrapped in a tight black tee and long legs covered in dark wash jeans tight enough for you to really have to focus on keeping  your eyes on his face. A freckle covered neck leads to a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. Leaning against the brick wall with his boots crossed at the ankles a toothpick twirls between his straight teeth.

The platform of your sneakers hitting the pavement as you come to a stop and the jingle of your power beads alerts him of your presence, hazel eyes going round like the moon in the sky. Straightening his posture he snatches the tooth pick out of his mouth, stuffing it in his back pocket. You swear you see a Tamagotchi tucked away as he clears his throat with a puff of his chest.

“I.D.?” 

Your lips twitch, the forced deep baritone in his voice isn’t fooling you, and you wonder if it fooled anyone when the signature beep of a Tomogatchi pet needing to be fed goes off in his back pocket. He coughs to try to cover the noise while you quickly pull what he needs out of your cross body. Holding it out for him to examine you look up with a glossed smile matching the one in the picture. Narrowing his eyes, you catch a glimmer of playfulness when he clicks on his flashlight. 

Examining it like it could be a fake, you bite back a giggle while he turns it around giving it one more once over before handing it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Funny, we have the same birthday.” His voice comes out normal this time, soft and friendly just like you thought.

“Twins!”

A genuine smile lights up his face like the sign above your head, his boyish features coming out despite the stubble on his chin.

“Might as well call us the Olsen’s.” Throwing you a wink he pulls the gold handle to open the door for you. The sounds of Return of the Mack break through the hums of the street behind you. “Have fun tonight honey, be safe. If anyone bothers you, just come grab me okay? I’m steve.”

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment and you have to remind yourself that you’re here for a date. You catch a hint of his cologne when your shoulder brushes against his chest on your way in, the expensive scent making you dizzy when it hits your senses.

“I will, thanks Steve,”your words are shy when they come out, making his lips twitch in response. Nodding his head, you catch the tinge of pink on his skin before he closes the door with a small wave.

It's even louder inside with the drunk conversations battling for dominance against the music. Tugging nervously at the bottom of your dress you look around the bar for the vague description of this guy Craig your friend gave you. 

You scan the crowd a few times before your eyes catch the big brown ones of the bartender. The stool in front of him freeing itself at the same time your eyes connect, the corners of his plush lips pull up as he beckons you over with two heavily ringed fingers. The unruly dark auburn curls that hit just below his shoulders catch the low light behind the bar, the yellow glow softening up all his edges. 

Rocking back on your heels you pull the strap of your cross body closer, doing your best to collect yourself before you push through the crowd accepting his invitation. His smile widens, pulling up his stubble covered cheeks to reveal a set of perfect white teeth to you. The one you give him in return comes out a little shy as you plop down on the ripped vinyl that matches the red of the door.

Ink litters his arms disappearing under the frayed ends of his sleeves letting you know there was more under the tight fit of his worn faded black Metallica shirt. The two rips near the collar give you a glimpse of the chain wrapped around his neck. The scruff lining his jaw adds a few years from afar but from this close he looks your age. The silver hoop in his nose catches against the bright lighting under the bar like the rings adoring his fingers. Pulling out two empty shot glasses with a twirl he quickly fills them up with Jameson.

“This one’s on the house sweetheat, it’ll help make your date cuter.”  He winks with a sly grin, your stomach flutters with his full attention on you like this.

The glass is heavy in your grasp as you stare at the dark liquid with a faint grimace. His low chuckle catches your attention before the pop and hiss of the soda fills your ears. As if reading your mind he slides over a coke, letting you keep your pride by not having to ask for a chaser.

“How do you know I’m here for a date?” Raising a questioning brow, the sides of your lips twitch as you struggle to hold a straight face. “A girl can’t come to the bar alone on a Friday night?”

The chocolate in his eyes lights up at your playful banter, slinging a white towel over his shoulder he leans in, forearms pressing hard against the counter as he invades your space. The spice of his cologne and the burn of cigarette smoke joins with him and you find yourself sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you telling me you’re available then?” Dropping his voice low enough to feel between your legs, you wished more than anything you had a different answer to give him.

The heaviness of his gaze has your cheeks warming, the intensity of the eye contact forcing your gaze away for a second as you clear your throat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you muster enough courage to meet his eyes again. 

“N-no unfortunately, you were right.” Exaggerating a heavy sigh, his confident demeanor never wavers despite his confirmed suspicions.

“Unfortunately is right, huh?” Winking, he pushes back leaving only the lingering scent of his cologne raising his shot in an offering of cheers. “To what could have been, baby.” 

A giggle bubbles past your lips when his fingers brush against yours meeting in the middle with a clink. Downing his shot like a professional, he’s left to watch the way you struggle with yours. Amusement is evident on his face while he watches the way your throat stays unwilling to open. Holding the alcohol in your mouth longer than anyone would want, it finally gives in letting the bitter liquid go down with a bite. Pushing the can of coke towards you with his knuckles, his laugh booms loud from his chest as you search for reprieve in the sweetness with desperation.

Chugging with abandon, you forget your surroundings for a second before your eyes meet his over the rim of the can and it’s almost enough to have you snort the rest of it all over yourself. 

Coming up for air you grumble a half assed “shut up” doing your best to try and fight the smile begging to spread across your lips as you wipe them with the back of your hand.

“Not a whiskey girl I take it?” Punctuating the ‘t’ harder than normal, his teasing falls on deaf ears when you get distracted at the way his thick fingers wrap around the shot glasses.

“Not a shot girl in general, I’d rather not taste the alcohol if I can help it.” Shrugging, you trace invisible patterns on the sticky quartz of the bar top with french tipped nails silently reminding yourself for the second time tonight you’re here for a date.

“So how’d you two meet?” He raises his voice so it comes out sickly sweet while a shaker and a lemon appears in his hands. Setting them down on top of the worn jagermeister logo that covers the drink mat he starts rolling the fruit against his palm.

“We haven’t met yet actually, a friend set us up.” 

Eddie’s movements freeze for a second, eyebrows furrowing together in a look of confusion as if that was the craziest thing that anyone had ever told him. He grabs the bottle of simple syrup adding more to what looked like it was going to be a sweet drink before he answers.

“Someone like you shouldn’t need to be set up, sweetheart.” He looks up at you from under the hood of his lashes quickly picking up on the effect he has on you.

He twirls another empty glass onto the counter top before he smashes the lid of the shaker on, not giving you a chance to respond he starts shaking it louder than you know is necessary. The bats tattooed on his arm dance across the muscles with the flex of every flick of his wrist.

“Really? Laying it on thick, huh?” Raising your voice enough to know he could hear you, he taunts you by cupping his free hand over his ear to make a show of pretending he can’t, mouthing a ‘sorry’ with a smirk. The laugh he earns from when he finally relents is the prettiest sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“Well I hope this ‘friend’ has a good vetting process. No less than three interviews or no dice.” He pours your drink with panache, like he’s putting on a show for you, like you’re sure he does with all the other girls.

Grabbing a straw he plugs one end with his index finger before he dips it into the slightly lighter liquid. The heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable when his lips wrap around the end tasting his creation with a low groan, his pink tongue pokes out to collect the sweetness left behind.

“I think, I think you’re gonna like this one. It’s an Eddie Munson original, I’m calling it "Wasting Love.” The roll of your eyes makes him bark out another laugh. The signs of the smoke you smell on him are more noticeable in this one’s rumble.

“I wonder what could have inspired it?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you knew you shouldn’t be flirting with him while you waited for Craig, but you can’t help yourself. Besides, he was already ten minutes late.

“I think you know what inspired it sweetheart, I can tell you’re not just some pretty face.” Dimples poking through his cheeks, he finally takes notice of the glares from the customers filling up the bar. Everyone’s patience starting to wear thin while they waited for whatever this was to be over. 

“I gotta stop ignoring all the other people in here real quick, but I’ll be back for your review.” He throws you another wink and it has you shifting in your seat as he starts to walk away.

“Wait! I never opened a tab!” Calling after him as you reach for your purse, he tuts loudly, turning around to face you, continuing his path walking backwards. 

“You shouldn’t be paying for a thing tonight, gorgeous.” He waves his hand dismissively before his back is to you again giving his undivided attention to the bearded man who looked ready to murder the carefree metal head if he didn’t get his Bud Light in the next five seconds.

Trying not to get too caught up in someone that wasn’t your date you timidly bring the straw to your lips. Humming appreciatively when the sweetness hits your tastebuds you’re pleasantly surprised at how much you actually like it. Feeling bold enough to take a bigger gulp, you look around for Craig again. So lost in the little bubble you had been in with Eddie you didn’t realize how much more the bar had filled up since you arrived. A new kind of rowdy energy in the air — the low murmurs of conversation get loud enough to drown out Semi- Charmed Kinda Life.

Glancing down at your pink swatch watch, your date was now twenty minutes late. Turning around to check and make sure the lavender cross body you told him to look for was visible, you crane your neck around looking one last time. It’s easy to shrug off the sinking feeling of rejection when you turn back around to watch Eddie in his natural habitat. 

He moves behind the bar like he’s been doing it his whole life, like everything was muscle memory.  As if he could feel you staring he catches your gaze throwing you a smirk before he tosses a bottle of tequila in the air catching it with ease. Pouring it into four lined up shot glasses, the group of girls in front of him celebrating what looked like a bachelorette party with all their multi-colored hats and boas squealed with drunk delight. Your eyes hit the back of your skull in a hard roll when one of them bats their eyelashes at him with a hand on his arm.

Sucking down the rest of your drink, the slurping once you hit the ice is loud enough to annoy the guy next to you who shoots you a warning look over his shoulder. Mouthing an apology you push your empty glass away looking around the bar one more time. The guilt of flirting with Eddie starts to disappear when you look at your watch again and start coming to terms you were actually being stood up. Searching for his doe eyes again, your heart sinks when you find him this time.

Dimples in his cheeks again, he’s practically beaming at her. Their body language telling you this isn’t their first time meeting and how animated he is when he talks to her is like he’s known her for years. Gesturing wildly with his hands while she nods enthusiastically, something he says has her throwing her head back with a laugh loud enough you can hear it over the music. You huff through your nose, the sting of rejection sneaking its way back in. The reminder that he was just doing his job and you were here for a date, one that never showed up, slaps you right in the face.

Averting your gaze to spare whatever confidence you have left, your eyes find the bouncer at the front door. Inside the bar now with a hard glare set on his handsome face. His arms sit folded across his broad chest while his jaw clenches at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders flex. Steve looks pissed.

Interest piqued, you follow his line of sight despite it going in the direction of the bar you were trying to avoid. Somehow not surprised when your eyes land on her again, you notice Eddie has already busied himself with someone else. With his back towards both of you he fills two pints with Blue Moon, the uncomfortable look on her face couldn’t be missed. The greasy blonde hair on the man that was clearly invading her personal space told you he’d been drinking all day. The grimace on her pretty face says she could smell it on his breath too.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you see him grab onto her arm while trying to whisper in her ear. You feel yourself ready to stand up and help when she pushes him away, with the way the veins in her neck were flexing whatever she was saying to him wasn't nice. Shoving her hand in his face she storms towards the front door where Steve is waiting, looking seconds away from killing the man who followed her path out of the bar with a leer.

The scowl on her face softens instantly when she’s met with Steve opening the door, the glare on his face being replaced with a deep flush when you catch a “Thanks, Stevie” fall appreciatively from her lips.

SMACK

Jumping at the sound of metal hitting wood, Eddie’s dimples show themselves only this time they are for you as he leans forward on his arms again, eyes flicking towards the spot next to you. He pulls himself even closer when he notices no one new occupying the stool, making you search for friction with the fat of your thighs. 

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” Flashing you his perfect teeth for the second time tonight the bruise to your ego already starts to disappear.

“I drank it without gagging, didn’t I?” Crossing your arms on top of the bar it's your turn to lean into his space and you swear you hear his breath hitch at your new boldness.

Licking his lips, your eyes greedily follow the path of his tongue. His smile stretches across his face even more when he notices, making no effort to move- unwilling to back down from the silent standoff you’ve challenged him too.

“‘I’ll have you know I take that as a very high compliment coming from you.” His breath fans across your cheeks from this close, mint and whiskey hitting your nose when he huffs a laugh. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Turns out there was no Prince, just an ugly old toad.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him through half lidded eyes, “Good thing I didn’t kiss him, huh?”

A low rumble shakes in his chest as he dares to lean in even closer, the tips of your noses almost brushing while the bubble you’d lost yourselves in reappears.

“Yeah baby, you can’t give those out to just anybody, they gotta be for someone special.” His voice is low, dripping with the kind of want you’d never had directed at you before. His eyes take in every inch of your face from this close while you try to keep up with his smooth tongue.

“Got anyone in mind, Eddie?” Doing your best to match his tone, his brows pinch together at the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth taking one last look at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah, I know a guy actually. He’s a bartender with a great head of hair.” Wiggling his eyebrows when you snort, the front door swings open, breaking you two apart as the girl from before commands the room like a record scratch, silencing the bar for the first time all night.

“Eddie! It’s bad, Steve needs you!” The sheer panic in her voice is enough for the jealous monster inside you to stay at bay as Eddie pushes back on his heels.

An irritated sigh escapes him while he mutters ‘not a-fucking-gain’ under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes find yours. You jump a little when he grabs your hands, the warmth of his palms enveloping yours while he gives you a pleading look.

“Don’t - I mean, please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back, I need to go save my buddy’s ass again. But I promise I’ll be right back, this conversation is too important to leave unfinished.” He flashes you that million dollar smile like chaos isn’t ensuing outside and all you can do is nod, signaling that you’ll stay put.

Hopping over the bar his loose fitting combat boots squeak over the counter top, the black jeans that were hidden from your sight somehow fit him even better than his shirt. Your gaze is shamelessly hungry as it follows him until he’s out the door. The scuffle outside leaking through the music with a blur of bodies outside. 

Too focused on the glimpse of Eddie’s towering frame stepping between the two guys to break up the fight, you don’t notice the person who walks through the unattended door until it shuts behind him with a thud. Ready to glare at whoever it is your eyes widen when you meet the ones belonging to who you can only assume is Craig. The burnt auburn hair he sports and the way he zero’s in on your purse confirms your suspicions. This was Craig, you're incredibly late and not even remotely as attractive as the bartender, date.

“Shit, shit, shit.” No matter how quickly you averted your stare, you knew it was too late, he saw you. Panic sets in while your brain goes a mile a minute trying to think a way out of this.

Looking around the bar for some sort of escape, the thought of ducking into the bathroom sounds like a winner but then the image of Eddie coming back and seeing you gone seeps into the forefront of your mind making you quickly toss that idea out the window. Turning to the people on either side of you who are too lost in their own conversations to notice your dilemma, you try to decide which one you could interrupt the most naturally. 

The couple on your right looks like they’re on a date going really well and the one on your left seems like two friends catching up. The tap on your shoulder is enough for you to make a split second decision, clearing your throat you spare the newly blossoming romance next you from your desperate antics, choosing to interrupt the friends who are reconnecting with a loud fake laugh.

“That’s when she told me- um excuse me do I know you?” Gruff and confused, the man closest to you looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. First your loud slurping and now this? This plan was never going to work from the get-go.

Another persistent tap on your shoulder has you grasping for straws. You open your mouth to try to sell whatever this was one last time. 

“Umm excuse me?”  Craig’s voice comes out loud enough to cut you off and for the poor guy next to you to give you the final cold shoulder. Unable to ignore him any longer, you force yourself to turn around and face him head on. Kind of. 

Channeling your inner Alicia Silverstone you try to give him the best Clueless look you can muster and he returns it with an even more confused expression, clearing his throat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Craig, Ariana’s friend. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tan slacks, the maroon sweater he wears fits loosely over his thin frame, dirty black chucks on his feet, his look screams ‘I listen to Nirvana’.

“Umm, I think you have the wrong person? I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here tonight.” It’s not believable in the slightest when the words leave your mouth, your less than confident delivery giving you away. The look on his face lets you know you’ve definitely been made

“Are you sure? I was told to look for the girl with a lavender purse.”  As if to prove his point he points to the exact one he’s talking about slung across your shoulder. He scoffs when you keep up with your charade, “I know I’m late but this is ridiculous.”

“A lot of girls have purple bags, Craig.” His name comes out dripping in venom, the need to get rid of him before Eddie’s return throwing any logic out the window. You needed to believe your own lie.

The sudden harshness has him raising his hands in defense, backing down a little under the daggers of your glare.

“Whoa, chill out, my bad. You just match the exact description I was given, that's all.”

Clenching your jaw in frustration because he just won’t give up, you try to hold your composure while your eyes flick towards the door in anticipation for his return.

“Well you’ve told me you were late twice already so she probably just left. Rude of you to keep her waiting honestly.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you know that he’s aware of exactly what you are doing but you don’t care anymore.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened, and not her being bitter I’m one measly hour late.” The way his words clip signal the rejection sinking in, a glare setting firm on his face.

It’s the stare down of the century before Eddie comes barging through the entrance with a loud huff and a clap of his hands. Cheeks red from yelling and hair slightly more wild than before. He checks to make sure you’re still exactly where he left you before he glances over to Craig for a split second not registering who he is. Hopping over the bar with another skid of his boots, he still manages to give you a lopsided grin when he gets to the other side. Hitting the top of the bar in a series of beats - he’s a ball of energy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, Steve’s lucky the girl he took a knuckle sandwich for has a first aid kit. Rick keeps saying he’s gonna get one but I have yet to see it. Want another cocktail?” Talking a mile a minute with the leftover adrenaline from the fight, he still doesn’t notice the way Craig watches the two of you until he catches how awkward you’re being. Eddie’s face hardens, the softness he was giving you disappearing. “Something I can help you with buddy?”

You don’t even have to look at Craig to know he’s puffing out his chest with a point of his chin addressing Eddie.

“Actually pal, maybe you can.” His tone makes Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, a tested smile spreading over his lips while he lets Craig continue. “I was supposed to meet someone here for a blind date, I was told to look for a girl with a lavender purse exactly like this one. You haven't seen another girl with this exact same bag have you?” 

Eddie’s wide eyes meet yours, amusement filling the specks of golden brown as he picks up on exactly what’s happening. The corners of his lips twitch before he nods his head licking his bottom lip holding your gaze long enough to make you squirm before bringing his attention back to Craig with a low whistle.

“Oh yeah, I remember that hottie, man. It’s a shame you were late, she took off with this dude she met waiting for you. She didn’t stand a chance, though, honestly. I know the guy, he’s too smooth for his own good. Pretty good looking too. Can’t be leaving your girl unattended around him. Probably wouldn’t have worked out between you two anyway.” Eddie catches the roll of your eyes at his self indulgent story as you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to hide your face splitting grin.

“Why don’t you walk away with some dignity. What’s that saying? There’s always more fish in the sea or some shit.” Eddie adds more salt to the wound, finally breaking Craig enough to give up.

“Whatever you say man, this bar is fuckin’ lame anyway. Who wants to drink to Third Eye Blind.” Grumbling his insults as he slinks away, he takes one last look at you and Eddie before his final exit with a flip of his middle finger.

Eddie’s stare is hot on your face, while you bashfully avoid his gaze keeping your eyes lingering on the door. When you finally dare to meet his eyes the shit eating grin on his face makes you groan, the buzz of your drink pulling a giggle out of you. 

“Eddie, don’t —“

“Well, well, aren’t you just a little heartbreaker, huh?” His teasing only makes your cheeks grow hotter as you try to hide your face from his view.

“Don’t you need to go attend to all the customers you left?” Your words come out muffled from behind your hands as you slowly pull them down just enough to uncover the fake glare you were sending his way.

“I’ve got my favorite one right here.” Voice dropping low with a smirk, he was right, you didn’t stand a chance.

“I haven’t paid for a single thing, you refused my money if you remember.” Bringing your hands down to fully come out of hiding, he bites his bottom lip when he can take in your features again.

“It’s no good here, baby, I could actually get arrested if I take it and then how would I be able to take you out to get pancakes after my shift if I’m behind bars?” Bringing his hands together in mock shackles and a pout, the chain wrapped around his wrist catches your eyes for the first time.

“You’re takin’ me to get pancakes?” Flirting like a love sick teenager, you even start to kick your feet under the bar.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re my fill in bouncer for the rest of the night.” Smirking, he nods his head to the man at the opposite end of the bar flagging him down with a twenty dollar bill. His eyes sparkling with something new now that he had you.

“Me? A Bouncer? I’m not intimidating in the slightest!” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you smile at his retreating form, the game of ‘playing hard to get’ becoming a thing of the past now.

“Sorry, you owe me, heartbreaker.” He shrugs like it’s out of his control before flashing you the same lopsided grin leaving you a mess of nerves from getting to spend the night with him.

The hours till close go by faster than you anticipate with Eddie topping off your drink any time you ask, the buzz from the alcohol is just enough to handle the growing intensity of his flirting. Now that the only obstacle in the way of each other was time, he was relentless.

Enjoying the game of chicken the two of you had started unconsciously playing, you stop noticing the clock. Every six customers earns you five —sometimes ten minutes of his time and he makes sure to use every second of those breaks as an excuse to lean in close, whispering in your ear, holding your face close every time you talk. He was getting off on the way he could make you shift in your seat and hide your bottom lip between your teeth when he got close enough for his lips to brush against your ear. Your fingers find excuses to wrap around his wrist when he invades your space, playing with his chain, you keep him close making sure to tilt your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse down your neck into the low cut of your dress.

The small hand on the clock above the door hits the three and it’s not until his breaks start getting longer and your touches are able to get a little bolder that you notice the murmur of voices over the music disappears. The few stranglers left sipping their last drinks of the evening are paying the two of you no mind despite the way he’s tucking your hair out of his way to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose.

The realization that you’re finally about to be alone with him brings your nerves to a head and the need to check yourself over in the bathroom mirror becomes urgent. The flick of his tongue along your earlobe distracts you for a second as your head nudges against his when it tickles making a giggle slip past your lips.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, Eddie.” You inhale the scent of pine lingering in his shampoo, giving him one last nudge with your nose before hopping off the stool. He gives you his best puppy eyes as you get up to leave, pushing out his bottom lip when you tug your dress down.

“Please, I’ll be like three minutes.” You roll your eyes at him but the smile that lights up your face tells him you’re eating it up.

“I’ll be counting every second you're gone, baby.” Holding his hands over his heart for dramatic effect the man at the end of the bar snorts loudly ruining the moment. He earns an annoyed glare from the bartender, “Better hurry up and finish that shit old man, it’s closing time.” 

You hear him grunt in response to Eddie’s rude reminder before disappearing into the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Stickers and writing with permanent marker cover every inch of the dark crimson walls. The doors of the black stalls barely hang from their hinges, dents from many reckless drunk nights at The Foxy Lounge punch random spots into the metal. The bottom of your sneakers stick to the floor with every step to the mirror where more stickers and black scribbles line the surface including a girl named Leigh’s phone number with the note ‘for a good time call’ attached at the end leaving just enough room to see your face.

The space buns on top of your head are messy from Eddie nuzzling his beard into your hair all night. You try to salvage what was left of them by tightening the knots a little more before deciding it's a lost cause. He was probably just going to mess them up more anyway. The thought of Eddie’s hands being free to touch you in every way you’ve wanted all night has you taking a deep breath while you hold your own eyes in the mirror.

“It’s happening, you’re gonna have sex with him. You’re gonna fuck the super hot bartender who flirts like it’s his second language tonight and you’re gonna be confident about it okay? You hear me?” Pointing to yourself in the mirror, the determination in your stare is enough for your tipsy pep talk to work its magic.

Taking one last look at yourself with a nod of your head you pull open the bathroom door ready to take on the rest of the night. Only to stop in your tracks when you notice the stool that was occupied is now empty and every inch of Eddie is also in full view from where he stands in front of the jukebox. Your eyes are insatiable taking in his tall frame like this for the first time all night. 

You notice the giant chain that hangs from his belt loop this time, and there’s even more rips in his jeans than before giving you a peek at the pale skin hidden underneath. His shoulder blades move under the thin fabric of his shirt when he clicks his choice on the machine. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer spills out from the speakers of the bar as he turns on his heels, the smirk that plays on his lips dares you to catch the hint with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Very subtle.” Crossing your arms as if to act immune to his charms, you know he sees right through your facade but he plays along anyway raising his big hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“It’s just one of my favorite songs, I don’t know what kinda ideas you got going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He takes a few more steps towards you slowly closing the gap, daring to be closer to you than he had been all night without a wooden bar separating you.

“Interesting, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Sixpence fan.” Raising your eyebrow, you have to look up at him when he finally takes the last few steps to stand in front of you. 

“Why? Cause I’m such a tough guy?” His grin grows wider when he looks down at you catching the roll of your eyes while you uncross your arms opening your body up to him with a laugh. 

“I can’t stand you.” Your swat is flirtatious with your palm hitting his chest. He’s quick to catch it, using your hand as leverage to pull you closer, biting back his groan when a breathy gasp slips past your lips when he tucks you into chest. First your giggle and now this? He just knew you were going to sound so pretty falling apart for him.

“I think Craig would call that bluff sweetheart.” He gives you a minute to let his words sink in, throwing his head back with a loud laugh when you huff at him embarrassed. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. He needed to be dumped, a girl like you deserves someone that's gonna show up when they’re supposed to.”

The sweetness of his words has you melt against him, the playful pull from before surrendering to his touch and you swear there’s hearts in your eyes from the way he looks down at you after saying something like that. 

“Thanks for tonight Eddie,” your voice is small when it comes out laced with adoration, and it’s his turn to get bashful making your favorite dimples come out again.

“No problem sweetheart, honestly it’s my fuckin’ lucky night.” Pulling your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss to the skin stretched over them before letting your hand drop, noting the disappointment on your face that you’re quick to cover up. 

“Wanna get some fresh air while I smoke before I close this place down?” 

——

Eddie somehow looks even better under the twinkling stars and pink fluorescent lights of The Foxy Lounge sign. The low hum of the electricity filling your ears as you lean against the brick of the building. His eyes are brighter out here, catching them with your own when he looks at you over the end of his cigarette.

He winks when you meet his pointed gaze, the flame of his lighter casting shadows that dance across the strong lines of his jaw, the orange glow highlighting the stubble that covers it. Batting your lashes at him, you push your hips off the wall playfully while he keeps his eyes on you through his entire first drag, only breaking contact for the split second he needs to blow the smoke he inhaled away from you. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” His words come out like a warning before he takes another hit.

“How am I looking at you Eddie?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you make sure to say his name extra sweet just how you figured out he likes. He shakes his head with a low chuckle blowing more smoke into the clear night sky. 

Despite only taking two drags, he flicks the barely smoked cigarette to the side before closing the distance with a few steps leaving him crowding you against the building. Your chest brushes against his with every shallow breath. Getting lost in the darkening amber inside his eyes, the calloused tips of his fingers catch against the soft skin of your chin. The pad of his thumb pulling the velvet of your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Ducking his head down he nudges your nose with his, the heat of his breath fanning against your open mouth. His eyes go from yours back down to your glossed lips silently begging for your permission.

“I think it was you that was hinting at kissing me earlier.” Pushing up on your tiptoes, you smile against him when your lips just barely touch. 

“Oh? You think that’s what I was doing hmm?” Asking the question he already knows the answer to, his tongue licks against your top lip as your hands find the material of his shirt, fisting as much of it as you can before yanking him down to collect his lips with an eager mouth, giving up winning whatever game this was. 

You swallow his moan when your tongues meet in the middle battling for dominance, teeth scraping, you taste the few puffs of tobacco still lingering on his taste buds as his muscle massages against yours. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he smiles smug into the kiss when your hips search for friction against the denim.

He breaks away from your mouth long enough to start trailing wet kisses down your jaw, the rough hair on his chin rubbing your skin raw as he starts nipping and sucking bruises along your neck. Biting hard enough at your pulse point to have to soothe it with his tongue after the mewls he pulls from you are enough to drive him insane.

Your fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, giving his roots a pull while you turn your head, opening more of yourself to him. Taking your silent invitation he nips at the dip of your collar bone before lifting his head to press his forehead to yours. 

“I gotta close up baby, but then…”rubbing his hands up your curves with a low groan he squeezes at the plush of your hips before finishing his sentence, “I think I promised you pancakes.”

Nodding your head because words are stuck at the tip of your tongue, he grabs your cheeks with a strong grip, smushing your lips together before stealing one last kiss.

——-

Eddie doesn’t give you the attention you’ve grown accustomed to all night when he starts the process of actually cleaning the bar. Your body still buzzes like a live wire from the drinks and the kiss outside. He’d been counting his tips with his back to you for the last ten minutes and you were growing impatient for more of him. You needed it. 

Counting the last bill he finally turns around and your thighs press together when you get to see his face again. Shifting in your seat when his eyes barely meet yours, he makes his way to the other end of the bar. Pushing yourself up to lean forward with puckered lips, he ignores your advances passing by without so much as a glance in your direction. Huffing when you plop back in your seat, he flips the knob starting to wash his hands in the mini sink with his back to you again. Your foot taps against the metal of the stool as you watch him grab the scratched up red bucket hanging below and a fresh rag quickly replacing his hands with it to fill up.

You wonder if he can feel your stare when he adds the soap, taking his time while he spins the rag in the steaming water, he starts ringing it out. Arms flexing and suds spilling over his knuckles, you were gonna lose your mind if you didn’t get your hands on him soon. 

He makes big swipes as he starts working his way towards you, keeping his eyes so focused on his task you’d think you were invisible if it wasn’t for the smirk that was getting impossible for him to hide. It only grows bigger when he stops in front of you, adding a low hum to his charade purposely wiping around the outline of your hands that were splayed out on the counter ready to push yourself up again. 

“Eddie - c’mon!”  

You’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the laugh that falls easy from his chest when he finally looks at you. His face softens and his eyes darken when he catches your angry pout, your fingers are quick to find his free ones making him tsk at you but he doesn’t pull away.

“My hands are wet baby.” He knew you didn’t care and the teeth showing in his wide grin told you he didn’t either.

Giving into your persistence like it hasn’t been a fight to keep his hands to himself this whole time, he leans forward brushing his nose with yours before nudging it against your cheek so your lips just barely touch. When you go to close the space he pulls back just enough to tease, a small whine escaping you at his games.

“What’s got you so needy, huh?” His words are whispered as he presses with the slightest pressure before pulling back again. “I didn’t kiss you good enough outside, you need more?”

“Please.” Your cheeks burn when you hear how your voice sounds, but his grip on your fingers tighten and a low moan breaks through his front at how desperate you sound just for a kiss.

“Gotta give my girl what she needs.” Your brain gets stuck on the words ‘my girl’ taking you a minute to realize he was finally giving you what you want.

It’s slower than outside, he’s taking his time with you this time. Untangling his fingers from yours, his hand comes up to wrap around the side of your neck. The water feels good on your skin as the pad of his thumb starts rubbing soft lines under your jaw while his tongue swipes at your bottom lip looking for more. You don’t give into his advances on purpose, keeping your mouth closed to get him back for all his teasing you feel his smile grow against your own.

Expecting him to stop and surrender, he only doubles down. Catching your top lip with his bottom, he pulls away just enough for you to open your eyes. God, you wished you kept them closed. The brightness from outside had turned them into nothing but black leaving no trace of the specks of brown from before. The knowledge that he was just as affected by all of this as you sends you reeling. Toes curling inside your sneakers.

“Whining over here for me to give you what you want, and here I am baby, and you’re playing hard to get.” Nipping at your bottom lip he meets your heavy lidded gaze again, “Gonna let me give you what you want?”

He barely lets you finish nodding before he’s on you, the hunger from outside coming back as he leans over the bar to deepen the kiss like you’d been begging him for. Opening your mouth for him without hesitation when he asks for permission again your tongues meet lazily, exploring each other like you didn’t get a chance to before. Pushing up again eager to get more of him he pulls back leaving you breathless with spit slick lips.

Despite the way his chest heaves trying to catch his breath, he does his best to play it cool, smirking when you have no shame chasing for more.

“I gotta finish closing up.” He gives you one more chaste kiss before he starts wiping the rest of the counter down. 

Jutting out your bottom lip into a pout, he laughs, throwing out a ‘you’ll survive five minutes baby.’

You leave him alone doing your best not to distract him, despite how much your fingers itch to have him close again. Grabbing the money from the register and the receipts for the night he disappears back into what you could only assume was Rick’s office. When he pops back out he looks a little more relaxed.

“Just gotta wipe the bottles down and then I’m getting the prettiest girl the best pancakes in town.” Clapping his hands together with a rub of his palms, he grabs another rag.

You were starting to hate pancakes. Not that you didn’t want them, you just wanted him more.

“Hey Eddie?” Trying to hide your ulterior motives in the sweetness of your voice, his eyes meet yours almost instantly and they narrow just as quick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Setting the rag down he leans forward with his palms on the bar he gives you his undivided attention. An intimidation tactic. Unable to help yourself, your eyes trace up the ink covering his arms.

“Teach me how to make that drink?” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you see something flash across his face, fingertips digging into the countertop after the question leaves your mouth.

“Wasting Love?” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it that now, would you?” Laying it on thick, a slow smile spreads across his face. He saw what you were doing and he was going to fall into your trap willingly.

“Why don’t you come back here then, we’ll make our own.” His voice comes out low, his pupils taking over all the brown, pretty white teeth baring themselves at you.

His gaze is predatory when he watches you jump from the stool, the exaggerated sway of your hips keeps his eyes trained on the curve of your waist as you make your way into his space for the first time all night. Leaning against the back counter, his legs are spread wide leaving little to the imagination on how worked up you had him. His eyebrows raise when he sees the automatic press of your thighs at the sight. It wasn’t fair, you were trying to seduce him, not the other way around. He wasn’t even trying.

As if on cue the jukebox that had been left to play all night clicks, Ginuwine’s Pony pouring out of the speakers as he licks his lips unashamed at the way he’s drinking all of you in like this.

“Gonna teach me how to make something sweet, Eddie?” Trailing a finger along the bar while you close the distance, you drag out the ‘e’ at the end of his name just enough to get him to groan.

His hands grab your waist squeezing just hard enough to feel his strength before using it to pull you flush against him. The material of your dress doing nothing to hide how hard he is pressed into your ass. His lips trace the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as you push back into him searching for more. The stubble on his face rubs rough against the soft skin of your cheek as he punctuates each word with a roll of his hips.

“The sweetest, baby.” 

You bite back your moan when his nose trails up your neck, his lips just barely grazing the warmth of your flesh before they settle back against your ear. You hold onto the wood of the bar in front of you when he hums low, feeling it deep in your core. His calloused fingers start a path up the bare skin of your thigh hiking up your dress when they catch the hem.

“Tell me,” your eyes close when his nose is pressed to your temple as he speaks, “Do you like cherries, baby?” His tongue catches your earlobe sucking it into his mouth, grazing it between his teeth when he lets it back out.

Your knees almost buckle at how good everything feels, the slow rock of his hips never stopping as he plucks at the lace trim of your underwear. 

“Y- yeah, I love cherries,” you whimper when his palms lay flat on the outside of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin when he squeezes at the fat working his way back up.

“Of course you do, pretty.” His thumbs hook the sides of your underwear, “You’re just so sweet all the time, huh?” Despite the need for friction, you spread your legs for him wondering if he can hear the way your lips pull apart sticky, arousal coating the inside of your thighs.

He chuckles soft in your ear praising you with a ‘so sweet’ before giving them a tug, letting the red lace fall to the floor. Keeping his hands on your hips, he presses himself against you hard enough to have the heels of your sneakers pick up off the ground. A low ‘fuck’ slipping out from under his breath when you whine a little.

“Red lace? Was Kurt gonna get lucky or was this just a ploy to get me all along, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn at his question, his low chuckle tickling your ear when he hears you huff out an annoyed breath. “‘Cause if that’s the case all you would’ve had to do is walk through that door on any given night.”

He grinds himself against you one more time, but you can really feel him this time and it makes your legs shake.

“Are we gonna make this drink or do you wanna keep talking about Craig?”  The shake of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed despite trying to be sharp with him but the grip on your waist still tightens at the mention of the other man’s name

“Sure we can, if that’s really what you wanna do.” His words taunt you but with one hand holding you against him the other flips a clean cocktail glass onto the bar top with ease, like he wasn’t rock hard digging into your back.

Reaching around, his hand trails up the front of your thigh sending goosebumps across your heated skin. A shiver runs down your spine when he dares to dip between your legs inching his way towards where you want him most.

“We better not mix liquors so why don’t you be a good girl and grab the whiskey for me.” His lips brush against your ear with every word, his hand never faltering on their path even when his fingertips meet your slick folds. Feather light, he traces along your slit, not daring to break the barrier yet. Brain hazy with want you don’t even comprehend what bottle you reach for, blindly grabbing for whatever was in front of you.

“That is tequila, sweetheart. Tsk, tsk, tsk are you even listening to what I’m saying? Or are you too…” Before he finishes his sentence he pushes his index finger past your entrance, your warm walls wrapping tight around his digit, “…distracted?”

Your head lulls back against his chest, your eyes closing when he pushes two knuckles deeper. Your needy whimper makes him kick up again making you grind your ass against him in response. Licking your lips, you try to collect yourself only chasing for more of his finger once. 

“N-no, I can do it.”  Determined to prove him wrong, you focus just long enough to grab the Jameson bottle, “What’s next?”

He hums in approval while his smile grows against your skin. Deciding to indulge in your stubborn game still, he curves his finger enough just to make you gasp his name.

“Are we keeping this simple, or do you want something a little more—” Adding a second finger, you stretch easily for him now, dripping down his hand, “Complicated?” 

You shudder, a moan slipping past your lips while your grip on the bottle tightens so much you're scared it’ll shatter. Fuck, you gotta keep it …

“S- simple - oh.” His thumb finds your clit applying just enough pressure to have your mouth fall open and your brows to knit together, and just as quick as he’s there, he’s gone. 

Pulling himself free, he tries his best to ignore the way your pussy tries to suck him back in, your body begging him for more. You whimper at the loss, your eyes opening to remind you where you are.

“I’m gonna need both hands to do this, baby.” His fingers shine with your slick when he wiggles them for show, stepping back just enough for you to see the grin on his face but not enough to get out of your personal space. 

Grabbing his wrist, his eyes go dark when he realizes what you’re about to do. Gaze turning half lidded when your mouth opens, huffing out a deep breath when your tongue flattens against the pads of the two fingers that were just buried inside of you. Wrapping your lips around them, your arousal is tangy sweet hitting your taste buds.

Hollowing your cheeks as you suck them clean, you watch the confidence drain from his face, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the sight. The blunt ends of his nails dig through the soft material of your dress and he starts rutting into you with a little more force when you slide your tongue between each knuckle.

“Jesus christ,” his voice is strangled, words coming out through gritted teeth when you let him go with a loud pop.

“Now you can use both hands,” you say innocently, like you didn’t just suck them clean. You let his fingers tug at your bottom lip before dropping his wrist.

He fists a handful of your dress, a low growl rumbling from his chest getting a taste of his own medicine. Licking his lips, his eyes narrow at you before his teeth start to show, mischievous in the low light.

“Well if we want this drink cold, we need to fill this shaker with ice.” Just like the glass, he flips it on the counter one hand never leaving your waist despite his claim. 

Pressing his lips to your ear again, he makes sure to let his breath linger a little before he talks, enjoying the goosebumps that appear from such a simple touch.

“Fill it up for me, baby?” Your thighs clench at the deep rasp in his voice, both of his hands finding a home spread out on your thighs.

Nodding your head you slide open the silver metal door of the ice chest below you, bending over more than you needed to to scoop it up into the shaker. He groans loud when you press into him like this, his fingers making quick work to flip the back of your dress up. 

“Look at you, so fucking messy for me and I’ve barely touched you.” Grabbing a handful of your ass, he ruts into you, the rough denim hitting your clit in a way that has you moaning his name.

He laughs quietly at your neediness flipping your dress back down when you straighten out. Chests heaving in time with the other, neither one of you was ready to back down. Not yet.

“Might need to unzip those pants.” Looking over your shoulder at him you fake a pout, “Feeling a little strained back there handsome.”

Smugness dripping from the smile on your face, he raises his eyebrows at you in a challenge. 

“Since you wanted something simple sweetheart, we just need two more things.” One hand snakes its way back between your legs, squeezing at the inside of your thigh before he lets you go for the first time since you set foot behind the bar.

Craning your neck so you could follow him, you find him bent down grabbing lemon juice from the mini fridge under the shorter back counter. Shutting the door with his foot when he stands up, he throws a wink your way when he grabs the simple syrup.

Setting the bottles in front of you he steals a quick kiss that leaves you wanting more before he grabs the small tub of cherries from the fridge he forgot his first go around.

“Okay, so you’re gonna grab the Jameson, and I want you to pour it out to the count of three for me then cut it off.” He returns to his place behind you, his large hand swallowing yours when it shadows your movements.

Your pour is shaky when he counts low in your ear, nuzzling his nose in your hair calling you a good girl after each successful addition to the simple concoction.

“Alright, now you’re gonna shake it as hard as you can angel.” His hands squeeze your hips for encouragement.

Doing as he says he pulls you against him even harder when your arms start to go wild. Your chest bounces with each movement making you giggle and you almost don’t hear the hitch in his breath at the sight. 

He helps you by putting the strainer over the rim of the glass when you’re ready to pour. Mumbling soft words of praise while he nibbles at your ear lobe. The drink is much lighter than the one you had all night, the dark orange turning lemon as the white foam fizzed on top.

“I think I could take your job.” You smirk reaching for the cherries to top it all off. 

“You think you could take my job?” He snorts incredulous, watching you unwrap the plastic wrap from the small tub dropping three cherries into the already very sweet cocktail.

“Absolutely.” Grinning while ignoring his stare you reach for another cherry, “No doubt in my mind.” You grab the fruit between your teeth, finally meeting his eyes as you pull the stem, relishing in the burst of sugar and grenadine that erupts against your tongue.

“Tough luck princess, unless you know how to tie that cherry stem in a knot with your teeth, no bar in this town is gonna touch you.” Grabbing his own cherry, he dangles it in front of your frowning mouth for you to bite. Obliging him with it bumps your bottom lip you tug gently, taking the fruit before chewing slowly while he sucks the stem once before it disappears in his mouth.

“I’m calling your bluff now. No one knows how to actually do that.” Daring him to prove you wrong he mutters a ‘watch me’ between his working teeth.

You don’t lose focus on the way his hand on your waist starts to wander, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the fat of your thigh while his tongue ties the stem like it’s easy. Jaw flexing with each twist of his tongue before he pushes it out to show you, a pleased look on his face when the small knot in the middle comes out perfectly placed. 

Swiping it off his tongue with the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, you wonder if he can still taste you when he sets it next to your drink satisfied by the way your jaw drops.

“How do you think I got this job? I’m more than just a cute face.” The touch of his hands grows bolder when they start working their way up your dress, a thickness in the air that wasn’t there before filling your lungs.

“That’s quite the skill set you have there Mr. Munson,” your giggle is breathless, your eyes going from his down to his lips as you try to play it off.  

“I can do more than that with my tongue sweetheart, if you wanna find out.” His nose nudges against yours, the smirk on his face making you sweat when his fingers trace up your wet folds again.

Surrendering instantly, you forget all about the drink the two of you made nodding without hesitation the desperation for him all night finally taking over.

“Yeah?” His voice breaks when his thick fingers push into your entrance again feeling just how worked up all his teasing had you.

“Please - Eddie,” the pad of his thumb finds your clit again making you beg, “Fuck.”

“Asking me so sweet, how could I say no to you?” Murmuring against your lips, he finally gives in and kisses you. Wet and sloppy he only does it long enough to take your breath away before dropping to his knees.

His big hands on your hips angle you to face forward, flipping your dress up over your ass again. The air of the bar is still hot against your folds, arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re fully exposed to him now. You hear him suck the skin of his teeth at the sight, a ringed hand coming down just hard enough on your right cheek to make it jiggle before both hands palm the fat.

“I can’t believe you were gonna let anybody else but me have this pussy. Should be a punishable offense.” Pulling your cheeks apart to expose more of you to his hungry eyes, he pushes at the small of your back signaling for you to bend over more for him.

He moans loud enough to make you jump when you listen to his command, even you can hear the sound of your lips pulling apart for him. 

“All this for me, baby, fuck, you spoil me.” He wastes no time burying his face between your folds, his talented tongue collecting your juices before finding your clit. The rough hair on his chin rubbing your sensitive skin raw as he shakes his head from side to side. 

Squeezing your ass to pull you closer to his face when you try to run away, he sucks your bundle of nerves harder when he gets you back to where he wants you, dipping his nose into your entrance every time.

He does the motions he would do when he ties the cherry stem into a knot against your clit, a strangled moan ripping from your throat when he does it again.

Your hands find purchase on the top of the bar, eyes closed tight while you see white behind your lids. Your nails dig into the wood when his tongue flattens, the lewd squelching of your arousal filling your ears when he pushes his face so deep between your legs you aren’t sure if he can even breathe. The moan that rumbles through his chest and vibrates to your core tells you he doesn’t care. Wrapping his lips tight around your clit he sucks even harder, not caring when your legs start to shake from overstimulation. 

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna - fuck!” His name comes out long and drawn out when you fall apart on his tongue. Relentless, his teasing never stops, his hands holding you up while your body starts to shake. Humming low in satisfaction against your cunt.

“I n- need, I need…” willing your eyes to open, your vision’s blurry from how hard he made you cum. Pulling away with a loud smack of his lips, he palms your ass cheeks before craning his neck to try and get a good look at you.

“What do you need, baby?” He nips at the curve of your right cheek before pressing his face to it, dazed from getting what he’s wanted all night completely content.

“I just, I just need you to fuck me,” you don’t recognize the choke in your voice when you whine for him. Whine for more.

“Jesus christ.” His words tickle against your skin when he groans, kneading the soft flesh of your ass one more time before standing up. 

His hands are on your hips before you can fully register the change in position, spinning you around and lifting you up he sets you on top of the counter behind the bar. The one where drinks aren’t served and the one that’s low enough for Eddie to slot himself perfectly between your legs. 

Eyes blown black while his beard and nose ring shine with your slick, his lips part - swollen and pink from pulling your first orgasm out of you. Bangs clinging to his forehead, his hair is a wild mess on top of his head from your hands. The confident air about him is gone, replaced with nothing but the need to have you. Snapping out of your daze, you’re quick to find the metal of his belt buckle.

His forehead presses to yours, while he watches the way your dainty fingers work the leather out through the loop. The white tips of your nails catch his eye when you undo the button of his jeans and his cock twitches at the thought of them pumping him for all he’s worth.

He hisses when you push the denim down his hips, his hard dick springing out to smack against his shirt that you immediately wish wasn’t there. Precum leaks from the angry looking pink tip while your hands fist the hem of the worn cotton, silently begging him to get rid of it. The big vein that follows the curve of his length makes your mouth water as he obliges your pleas, ripping his shirt off and throwing it somewhere you’d have to find later. 

You’re able to really take all of him in like this, his chest is heaving covered with just as many tattoos as the rest of him, the silver chain you’d peeped earlier hanging right in the dip between his pecs. Your eyes follow the dark patch of hair that leads to his cock, long with the kind of girth that you know is going to be a stretch, a strangled whine bubbles out of you at the sight while your thighs spread begging for him.

“God, I want you so bad,” you whine wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him even closer giving into your animalistic instincts. 

“I know baby, me fuckin’ too.” He pumps his cock a few times groaning loud, squeezing hard at the base before pressing the head between your dripping lips. Mesmerized at how they wrap around his tip, his precum mixes messy with your arousal making lewd noises as he sweeps it through your folds.

Body shaking every time he hits your clit, you finally hook your ankles growing impatient when he teases your entrance.

“Fuck. Me.” You get out through gritted teeth, the lopsided grin he’d been giving you all night turns cocky when he pushes the tip in, your head lulls back at the invasion, the silk of your walls desperate to start sucking him deeper.

“Not so sweet now are you, huh?” Pushing himself all the way in, his rough thatch of pubic hair hits your clit when he bottoms out. His confidence falters for a second when a deep moan rips through his chest at the feeling. “So fuckin’ tight baby - shit.”

Your nails dig half crescent moons into his inked skin while you adjust to his size, his nose skimming against your cheek while he whispers how good you take him when your walls start to milk him, your body letting him know it was okay to finally move.

“Feel so good, Eddie, fuck - so good.” Your hips start a slow rock, feeling every ridge and curve of him. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist giving a perfect view of the way you take him, and it’s even better than what his imagination had come up with all night. 

He lets you use him for a minute, big hands resting on your waist — content with just watching the way you coat his cock with everything you have left over for him from the first time he made you cum. 

“That feels good, huh?” Cooing at the way your brows knit together and your mouth falls open, he picks up the pace, taking control. 

Pulling you all the way to the edge, his strokes get deeper, the tip of him hitting the spot that you know Craig would have never found. He pulls his cock out half way, relishing how your velvet walls try to keep him in place, he holds his composure before pushing back in, filling you to the brim. Addicted to the way it makes you gasp his name and arch your back, your body asks him for more when you’re too cock drunk to get the words out.

The straps of your dress start slipping down your shoulders with every thrust, your breasts bouncing just begging for his attention. His cock twitches inside you, it's almost too much. Greedy for more despite fighting the urge to cum, he tugs the front of your dress down to reveal a matching bra to the panties on the floor. Hips stuttering for a moment he growls at the reminder of your date before tugging the lace down, your nipple pebbling instantly for him before he takes it in the heat of his mouth. 

Pushing yourself closer, needing more, your hands find their way to bury themselves in his curls, holding him close. You needed him close. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bud and it makes you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hips finding a way to match his strokes, reigniting the flames deep in your gut. God, he was gonna make you cum again.

He grunts around your breast, spit dripping down your soft skin from his ministrations while the snap of his hips start to get harsher and you know he’s nearing his end. He lets your nipple go with a loud pop before his hand comes up to grip your chin, his lips finding yours in a frantic mess of teeth and battling tongues.

The wood creaks underneath you from the force of his thrusts and the bounce of your ass to meet them. Mouths tangled, you swallow each other's ragged breaths, both of you desperately searching for your end when his fingers find your clit. Rubbing circles with just enough pressure to have your body start to shake against his, he nips at your bottom lip grunting when he feels the way it makes you flutter around him.

“Come on baby, give me another one. Be my sweet girl again and tell me how good I make you cum.” His fingers slip against your clit, fingers wet from how worked up he had you but his words are enough to have your world stop for a second.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Ed-“ Going blind behind your closed eyes he coaxes your second orgasm out of you with a silent scream falling onto his turned up lips. Proud of his work, his hips start picking up their pace inching closer to his own release he’d been fighting off since going down on you. 

“God, - fuck I’m close - where d-do you-?” Sweat drips down his forehead while he struggles to find his words, his impending orgasm making him short circuit.

“Inside, shit - please, I need it, Eddie.” Still needy and barely coming down, your legs around his waist tighten their hold, locking him in place while you use the last of your strength to help get him there. 

“Whatever you’re doing - holy shit , Jesus - I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His hips press hard against yours when his cock twitches, spilling warm inside your greedy walls that don’t stop asking him for more. His face hides in your neck, the heat of his breath fanning against your sweat kissed skin while his body shakes with his release.

The roll of your hips never stops, just slowing enough to make him shiver after he starts softening, spent inside of you. You know there’s a mess starting to drip but neither one of you has the energy to move just yet. His lips start leaving small kisses along your neck, nose nudging against the space behind your ear and you can feel his smile against your cheek before he finally lifts his head up. The brown in his eyes return to a warm auburn like before when they meet yours.

“Rick is gonna fucking kill me if he ever finds out what happened on this counter tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you snort at his joke before shoving against his chest.

“You’re telling me you don’t fuck all your cute customers behind the bar, Eddie?” Batting your lashes at him, he squeezes your hips with a smirk. 

“Only, the really, really cute ones. I take them to get pancakes at IHOP around the corner, too.” Something shifts in his eyes and you think for a second you might see self doubt in them for the first time all night, “That is, if they still want to.”

“Well lucky for you, I only let bartender’s from The Foxy Lounge take me out.” Nudging your nose against his, your smile touches his lips.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m the only bartender here right?” Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, he quickly gets rid of the space between you, kissing you like it too.

---

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #whatta man #my writing

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[sadhours]

dirty laundry

billy hargrove x fem!reader

masterlist • requests open

cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy

🧡🧡🧡🧡

it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.

“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.

you frown, “i like don henley.”

your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.

“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.

“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”

there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”

“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”

billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”

“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.

he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.

once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.

he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.

“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”

you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.

“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”

you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.

“better?”

you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”

“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”

billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.

Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.

“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.

“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.

“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”

you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.

billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”

his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.

he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.

you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.

“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.

“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”

“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.

he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.

once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.

your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.

“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”

you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.

it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.

“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”

“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.

“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”

that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.

“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”

he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.

he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.

“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x y/n

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₒₙₗy ₐ ₘᵢₙᵤₜₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧.

ꜰɴᴀꜰ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏxʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜰᴏxʏ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: Spoilers? Missing children, child abduction, mentions of death, FNAF stuff, slight mental illness, mentions of getting committed, a bit emotional with an almost good ending?

A/N: I choose Foxy because he is my favorite both in the game and movie. Hope ya'll like this fic.

Masterlist

You were just gone for a moment, you had to use the bathroom, you thought that he'd be okay with the other kids. When you came out, he was nowhere to be seen. You looked for him everywhere, in the arcade, the ball pit, the bathroom. Then you heard that other kids also went missing. The police got called, you told your mom what happened. You were growing scared and desperate to find your brother. But weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. The police just stopped looking because they didn't find anything. No suspicious activities or of that sort. No one was found and they didn't even find one single body. It was as if they vanished like thin air. But you? You didn't stopped, you didn't plan on stopping until you found what happened to your brother.

Not only that, but your dreams got all sorts of weird. You had always dreamt of the same thing. You were at the Pizzeria, stepping out of the restroom, wearing the same clothes as you did that day, except the place would get darker and more sinister. The people around you have become faceless and the music sounded much more dimer. You'd spot your brother for a moment, then he'd vanish into thin air. Every time that would happen, you'd call out to him. Screaming his name around the pizzeria. You'd also hear a voice, it sounded robotic. It would always spell out something that you couldn't quite catch. But there were some letters that you could make out. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You were never able to hear it clearly, it sounded like a broken cassette tape. Then you'd wake up. The dream went on for years, you never really dreamt of anything else. If you did, it would always be something that happened in your childhood, evolving your brother. A lot has changed since he turned out missing.

Now it was the early 2000's, you were already an adult. Working a nine to five job at a Target at the mall and living with your mom still. That early morning, you've woken up from that dream. Again, that same dream. You walking out the bathroom, still wearing that outfit you wore that day and the place was full of faceless people and that music. God that music made shivers run down your spine. You did what you'd always do, look for your brother. It always ended with with you entering the main lobby, near the small single stage. And again, that voice. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You never could make out what he was saying. Then you'd wake up. You didn't understand it. You never understood it. You got ready for work. You put on your red polo shirt with your name tag and your light brown kaki pants. Before you left the room, you looked at a picture sitting in your night stand. It was of you and your brother, on his birthday. You remembered that summer how he had a pirate themed birthday party. He loved pirates. You remember how he would walk around with a black eyepatch and a hook on his right hand. You would even play with him when your mom would be out working late. You always choose to be a mermaid or the villain in his games. You missed those times.

Besides that, you never really planned on going to school for anything. That was the last thing you would be worried about. So you decided to work, maybe save up enough money to maybe hire a private investigator or someone who can help you find something. Now you were at work, doing what you'd normally do. Just helping customers and ringing them out. It was just a regular day. It felt slower than most days. You heard from your coworkers that a security guard got fired, before he punched a guy who he mistook as a kidnapper. If you were in his situation, you'd probably do the same. Now a-days you didn't know who you could trust or you couldn't even look away from a moment because something could happen with a blink of an eye. It was understandable, at least to you.

You've been invited to do things with your coworkers, except you've declined. Always telling them that you were busy or you just didn't feel like going out. It was hard for you to make friends, you had basically isolated yourself from everyone when your brother turned up missing. You never really tried to make friends again. This worried your mom. Since you'd only go to work, go home, eat and sleep. It was a repeated cycle. She had talked to you about going to see a therapist. But you always declined. You didn't want to go and talk to somebody about how after many years you're still on the hunt for your brother. They'll probably medicate you or get you committed into an asylum. You you avoided that topic.

After work, you were back home. In your room, looking through your book. This book had news paper articles, along with police reports, pictures and other things that you've kept for years. This was your kind of evidence that you kept. You'd study these stuff day and night, for the last couple of years. You never gave up. Not only that, but you've tried asking the owner of the place 'William Afton' if you could go into the place to investigate, except the guy never picked up the phone or responded to your letters. You've even tried to get the job as a security guard, but Steve Raglan, who was a career counselor didn't give you the job. He'd always say that. 'It wasn't good for your mental health' or that 'He needs someone who's more calm and collected'. What he probably meant was that he needed someone who wasn't crazy.

You were busy looking at the old, now yellow news paper. Re-reading the article about the missing kids. You've read it many times by now, you might even memorize it. Then you heard someone knock at your door, then they came in. It was your mom. Who had a face of worry. "Y/n? Have you ate anything?" She asked, looking over you saw that she still had her work uniform on, she must have got back. "No, not yet." You responded, then she got closer. Seen what you were reading. She let out a sigh, as if she was exhausted of some kind. "Again? Y/n, we've been over this." She said, then you looked over at her. "I know, but... I just got to find something." You added to her.

She looked at you, seen the dark circles under your eyes. Indicating that you didn't get much sleep. "Baby, it's been years." She said, while looking at you. "You just... have to accept that he isn't coming back." She said sadly, as if she didn't want to say it, but she did. "I know... I just... want to know what happened to him.. or at least who took him.." you added in defense. Your mom then fidgeted with your hair a bit, as if she was fixing it. "So do it, but... you have to stop this obsession. It's not good for you." She said to you. It went silent for a moment, then your mom let out a small sigh. "I'll get dinner started, I'll come to get you in a bit." She said, giving you a small squeeze to your shoulder and she left your room. You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks and leaned on the desk. Trying to think of what your mom said. Then you looked at picture sitting on the night stand for a moment. After a whole silent minute, you got up from the desk and went into the kitchen where your mom was, to help her with dinner.

You were at the food court, you had taken your lunch break, now you were heading back. You weren't watching where you were going and you've bumped into somebody. Making them drop a book of theirs. "Shit, I'm sorry." You said, picking up the old looking small book with the title which read 'Dream Theory'. Interesting. "It's alright." He said, then you handed the book to the guy. He was cute. He had messy brown hair and slightly tired eyes. The same description as the security guy who got fired.

"Are you... the guy who got fired from security?" you asked him. He had a look of embarrassment, but he nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He said. It was quiet for a moment, but you spoke again. "What you did was understandable." You said, making him look at you with his eyes slightly wide by your words. "You think so?" He asked. "Yeah, now a-days, you don't even know people's intentions or motives. I would have probably done the same if I were you." You explained. He only nodded at your words, at least someone also thought like him. "Well, I better go, hopefully I'll see you around." You said with a small smile. He nodded and returned the smile. Afterwards, you headed back towards your work place, while he also left to his destination.

You were back home, counting the money you kept in a shoebox underneath your bed. It was enough to fire an investigator, but you knew that you'll need more. This would probably cover the bear bare minimum. It was frustrating. You've spent a whole year saving, yet it didn't feel like it was enough. You knew that you should have got a job sooner, than later. Again, you went through the same old articles and pictures. Trying to find something again. But nothing, it was the same old thing. The same words and the same people in the pictures. Of kids playing around the arcade and one of a person dressed as a yellow bunny. That was odd, you don't remember that bunny at the pizzeria. When was he added? When you looked at the picture of him posing with a girl with blonde hair in pick tails, it felt creepy in a way. Almost unsettling. You didn't really notice this picture or you probably didn't notice it at first.

It was another day, you were in the register, ringing people out. You sighed, in exhaustion. Your feet were hurting and time felt much slower than usual. Another costumer came to the register. You gave them the best smile. "Hello-" you were cut off guard, seen that it was that guy you met the other day. "Oh, it's you. Find everything alright?" You asked him, like you'd normally asked every costumer. You scanned the box of crayons and paper, along with a few things he had in his basket. "Yeah, thanks." He said, while grabbing his wallet. "Found a job yet?" You asked him, out of politeness. "If you haven't, I'm sure you could send in your application." You said. "I actually already did, but thank you for the offer." He responded. You nodded, as you placed the items in a white plastic bag with the red Target logo. "What did you find? If you don't mind me asking." You asked him. "A security guard, at some pizzeria. The pay isn't good, but it's something." He explained.

This caught your curiosity. "Really? What pizzeria?" you asked, putting the packet of bacon in the bag. "It's called, I think. Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza, something like that." He explained. No fucking way. You looked at him wide eyed. "For real?" You asked him, he only nodded. Then he gave you the amount of money that was due. As you handed him his receipt, you hesitated a bit. "When can I see you again?" You asked. "Hm, I don't know, maybe in half an hour while I still have time? Why?" He asked, now curious on why you'd want to see him. "It's cause... I'd like to talk to you about something. It'll be worth your while, I promise." You said, he thought of it for a minute, then he nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you in the food court... When does your shift in end?" he asked. "In about an hour, what's your name by the way?" You asked him. "It's Mike." He told kindly, as you hummed in response. Watching him leave in a bit of a hurry, you went back to work hoping that the time would go by fast.

After that hour, you were at the food court, waiting for Mike to arrive. He finally did. "Thanks for coming." You said almost shyly. "No problem, but just make it quick. I got to get back home to get ready for my first shift." He explained. You and him sat on a table. "Look, I know you've only known me for a bit. But, please hear me out." You said. Mike nodded, allowing you to processed. "Could you, maybe let me in the pizzeria, while you do your job. I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. He looked at you with a look of confusion. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal anything, I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. But he wanted to know a bit more. "I don't know. What exactly are you looking for? Treasure of some kind?" He asked. "Well, almost something like that." You told him, but he still not very convinced. You didn't know whether you should tell him the whole story on why you're interested in going into the pizzeria. You just skipped the subject.

"Not only that, but I'll pay you for your troubles. I just want to go in and look, then I'm out." You added, as soon as you said 'paid' he looked at you with more reason. "How much?" he asked. "Two-hundred dollars per night. It'll just be this week and no more." You told him, seen the look of shock in his face. He thought for a minute. Then he nodded his head. "Alright deal, but, you have to pay first. I don't want to get scammed or anything." He said, then you grabbed your wallet and handed him two fifty dollar bills. He took the money and looked at it, in almost as if he'd never seen that amount in while. "That's all I have for now, but I'll give you the rest afterwards." You explained to him. Mike nodded, he seemed as if he was convinced. "Alright, it's a deal then." He said. After that was settled. "Before I go, here's my house number. Call me if anything." You explained to him, writing your house number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. You normally wouldn't give your number to anyone, but you knew that you'd be seen him for the next couple days.

Back home, you told your mom that you'd be going out at night for the whole week. For some kind of night shift and you'd be back at 6:00 am. You left home and headed to the pizzeria. It was 11:55 pm. You were sitting in your car, waiting for Mike to arrive. A few minutes passed and he had arrived at 12:00 am. On time. He told you to just be smooth and not make it seem as if you were here. He sounded as if he really needed this job. You nodded understandingly and went to search.

Like before, you searched everywhere that you could. Except you got to look more. In the kitchen, boiler room and in the back. But nothing. Despite not finding anything, you'll be back tomorrow night. When you got back to the main lobby, you heard strange movements coming from the single stage. It had dark purple curtains like the main one. You got a bit close, trying to listen and see closely on what was making the inside of the stage move. You reached out and tried to pull the curtains, until you heard the Mike called out to you. "Hey, it's 6:00, we gotta go." He said, you nodded at him, you looked back at the stage. Before you headed out. "Here's the rest." You told him, giving him the other two fifty bucks. He took them. "Thanks." He said, putting the money in his pocket. "No, thank you for letting me do this. I know it's risky." You said with a small smile. "It's nothing really, I just... really need the money and the pay here is not so great. From what I was told." He explained. You nodded. "I understand." You responded to him. "Well, I'll see you later tonight?" you asked him. "Yeah. See ya." He responded with a small awkward smile, then headed to his car. You did the same.

You went home, slept for a few hours. You had that dream once again. But, there was a slight change. When you got to the small single stage, the voice sounded much different than before. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...' You could slightly make out the letters, but the words completely. Then you woke up again. Like always. You got ready and went to work and after work you went home, then you left to the pizzeria at the same time as you did before. Mike arrived, you paid him the while two hundred dollars and you got to doing what you were doing. You searched in the same places, but this time you looked more in the main lobby. It felt as if you were getting closer to finding something, and that something was in the main lobby. You looked under the tables, bathrooms and even in the trashcans, but nothing. But it still felt close. Looking over at the single stage, you noticed that the curtains were open. You walked over to it, and saw that it was empty. Dammit, you thought something would be in there, before you could leaned close to look inside. You heard a loud thud in the office.

Quickly you ran towards the office. "Mike?" You called out to him, seen that he was on the floor groaning in pain. Bleeding from his arm. You went over and helped him up from the floor. "You good? What happened?" you asked him, setting him back on the chair. "I think so, dunno how that happened." He said, referring to the wound on his arm. It looked nasty. You looked around the office, trying to find a first aid kit. When you found it, you helped him patch up his wound. "What did you do?" You asked him, as you tightened the bandages on his arm. "I have no idea, I just dreamed of this kid, with a pirate hook. I chased after him, then he slashed me." He said, this caught your attention. 'Boy with a pirate hook.' That must have been a sign somehow.

When you got back home, your mom was getting ready to leave. You talked for a bit before she left. When she did, you went to catch some sleep before work. You went back to that same dream, back at the pizzeria, except you were in the last place where it ended. At the single stage, it was open. But it was empty. You got close, leaning in to look inside, but it was dark. All most like a bottomless pit. You stoke your hand in to see if you might find something, inside but you felt something grabbing your hand in the process. You heard the voice again. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...'. Then the house phone rang. Making you wake up with a loud gasp, a bit frightened. Groaning that you've been woken up. You got up and walked towards the living room. You picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?" you asked through the phone. "Y/n? Hey it Mike, sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing, but. Did you break into the pizzeria earlier this morning?" He asked, sounding worried in a way. "No? I was home the whole time. Why what happened?" You asked him. "Apparently someone or a group of people broke in. I just wanted to conform something." He explained. "That was it, sorry for interrupting." He apologized. "It's alright, I get it. I'll see you later tonight." You said, then you hung up. Who the hell would break into the pizzeria? That was a bit suspicious. You looked at the time and saw that it was close to being time to go to work. You sighed, walking back to your room to get ready.

Later that night, you were back at the pizzeria, waiting for Michael. He arrived, once he parked and stepped out of the car, then he went to the passenger door and opened it. A little girl stepped out with a small back pack. They both approached you. "Sorry, I couldn't get a hold of the babysitter and I just couldn't leave her alone." He explained to you. "Are you Mike's girlfriend?" she asked. Making you giggle and her brother's face turned a slight red. "Nah, just a friend." You replied to her. "Hm, I didn't think he'd have any." She said, making you laugh and Michael's face becoming redder. After you had a small introduction, you went in.

The place was trashed and a mess. While Mike went to put Abby to sleep, you decided to get some cleaning supplies to help clean the mess. You went to the janitor's closet to find some things, you spotted how on the door there was a dark liquid that had been splattered on there. Weird, it looked almost similar to blood, it was probably an old stain of some sort. You got brooms, dustpans, a bucket, mop and cleaning products. Then headed back to the main lobby. When Michael arrived, you and him got to cleaning. You both swept, mopped and you stocked up the chair and tables. Afterward, he went back to the office while you went on your search. Trying to find any kind of new clues maybe, but nothing. Some 'evidence' must have been cleaned up. You headed back to the office and saw that Mike was asleep and Abby had woken up. "Can you take me to the bathroom please?" She asked. You looked over at her sleeping brother and back at her. "Yeah, lets go." You said, taking her hand and leading her to the restroom.

You were waiting outside of the restroom, waiting for her to finish so that she could go back to her brother. The door opened and she walked out. "Done." She said with a small smile. Then a small noise was heard in the stage. You and Abby looked over for a minute. "Stay behind me." You said, then you slowly walked towards the lobby, with Abby behind you. You saw how the stage slightly shook, you kept the younger kid behind you, grabbing a broom. To defend yourself. Then the curtains of both the stages opened, revealing the animatronics. Of a bunny, bear, and a chick. They were all in good condition, with a bit of dirt and dust on them. The single stage had a fox, a bright red one that was more tattered than the rest, also with some dust.

They all moved their heads, towards your direction. Then they began to walk towards you both. You don't remember them doing that. You held the broom tightly, and kept Abby behind you. Except she peaked and looked towards the animatronics. "Those are my friends." She said, removing herself from behind you and going up to the four animals. "Abby wait." You said, getting closer to them. She seemed as if she knew them. Did she? You kept your broom in hand, watching as Abby interacted with them as if she's known them all her life. You felt something touch your shoulder, looking over, you saw the red fox. He was moving his ears and hook for a hand excitedly. Instead of feeling scared, you felt some kind of attraction? "It's okay, he just wants to hug you." Abby said to you, now the animatronics were looking at you. "He does?" you asked her, she then nodded.

Turning to face the fox, that was twice your size. You set the broom aside, then you extended your arms and moved closer to him. He did the same. You wrapped your arms around the cold fur like robotic body. His arms were around your smaller body. It felt a bit odd, but the more you hugged him, it felt comforting. You felt his hook for a hand giving you small pats, as a way to ease you. This felt nice, then you pulled away from him. Looking at him in his single eye. He moved his jaw excitedly, as well as his ears. It was cute in way. You gave him a small smile. Out of nowhere Abby began to laugh, you looked over and saw how the others were tickling her. She just laughed, which lead to some playful screaming and her telling them to stop. It was all fun and games, until you heard Mike run in to see what was happening.

As soon as he got there, he assumed Abby and you were in some kind of danger, he then grabbed a chair and held it up, as Freddy approached him. About to fight him. "It's okay Freddy, he's my brother Mike." Abby said towards Freddy, who had seemed to have calmed down. Allowing him to let Mike pass. "Mike, this is Bonnie, Foxy and Chica. Everyone, this is Mike." Abby introduced everyone to on another. "This is... is a joke right?" He asked, looking confused at you. "I thought I was tripping, but no." You responded to him. "It's okay Mike, they just want to play." Abby told Mike, then Chica turned to her and gave her a wink, making her smile.

"Alright, it's time to go, come on." He encouraged Abby. "Hold on." She responded to him, then she grabbed her little notepad and a red marker from her pocket. She drew something real quick and tore it off the notepad. Bonnie held out his hand, letting Abby put the picture on his palm. He then showed the picture to Foxy who looked very interested in the heart drawn on the paper. "I had a lot of fun." Abby told them, she then walked towards Mike. But stopped and gave Freddy a nice hug. Freddy returned the hug back. You looked at Foxy, who was waving his ears and jaw rapidly again. Also waving his hook around as if he was waving at you. "I'll see you around?" you asked him, he nodded his head. Then you walked out of the place with Mike and Abby.

"That was something." Mike said, watching Abby get in his car. "Yeah, it was." You responded, looking back inside, seen that Foxy was near the door. You guessed to make sure that you would all leave. You turned back to Mike who was closing and locking the gate. "So, find something?" He asked again. "Not yet, but I'm much closer than before." You explained to him. After he finished locking up the door. "I better get going. I got work in a few hours." You told him. "Alright, I'll probably stop by." He teased, making smile. "Alright, don't be a stranger." You told him, then you looked at Abby. "Goodbye Abby." You said kindly to her and she gave you smile, then you headed to your car, turned on the engine to get home. Back home, your mom wasn't there. You assumed she went to work early. You took off your shoes and just jumped on the couch, getting comfortable. Taking yet another nap before work. Hopefully afterwards you could get some better sleep. You fell asleep shortly afterwards.

You back at the pizzeria, except wasn't almost scary looking and dark like before. It seemed more friendly and nice to be in. You were standing outside the bathroom, the same clothes as before. Looking around, you saw someone in front of the single stage, they were small, like a child. You got closer to see who it was. Your eyes widen when you saw the back of that person's back of his head. They slowly turned around. You saw that it was your brother, he looks just like how he did when he went missing. He had on his orange shirt with blue jeans, shoes and his pirate hook that he had made.

"You found me." He said, you felt your eyes watering. It's been so long since you've seen your brother. You almost forgot how he looked like. You said his name in a whisper, then you went over, getting on your knees and pulling him into a hug. "Oh...I'm so sorry, I was only gone for a minute. I knew I should have been more watchful of you." You said, as you cried more, hugging your brother. "It's okay. You found me" He responded to you, all you could do was hug him and cry. As much as you wanted to continue to hug and be with him, you couldn't. This was only a dream. You pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes. "Please... I have to know... who took you?" You asked him, hoping that he'd give you answer or a clue. He didn't say anything. "Please tell me, who took you from me and mom?" You asked him again, but again. Nothing. Before you could ask him again. You woke up.

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#fnaf x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x fem reader #fnaf x female reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie x y/n #fnaf movie x you #fnaf movie x fem reader #fnaf movie x female reader #foxy x reader (platonic) #foxy x sister reader (platonic) #fnaf fic #fnaf movie fic #female reader #female y/n #sister reader #sister y/n #cereza's writing #cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ wᵣᵢₜᵢₙg #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

[gretavangroupie]

Enrapture

Word count: 13.2k

Pairing: Daniel Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Spanking, Blood, Blood Play, Cum Play, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the second installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Daniel's story! There's only two left now, and we can't wait to share them with you! See you real soon!

You’ve been waiting for this night for weeks, marking off the days on your calendar with a pink highlighter since the end of December. You got the call and immediately said yes, not even taking into consideration the day. It wasn’t hard to get the rest of your band mates to agree to it, only one of them even in a relationship. February 14th was really just another day, and tonight your band was set to play. 

It took some careful convincing but everyone knew that opening for The Foxies would be, to date, your biggest opportunity yet. You put the finishing touches on your outfit, waiting for the rest of the band to pick you up in the van. You zipped your black chelsea boots, and straightened your black lace corset top against your jeans as you fluffed your fingers through your freshly blown out hair. You gave yourself a look in the mirror one last time, the shine of your lip gloss catching in the bathroom light. 

The time on the clock is quickly ticking by, and you’re starting to get nervous that it's well past your pick up time. Thankful that they already have your guitar in the van, you know that as soon as they pull up you will be jumping inside as the van continues to roll. 

About fifteen minutes and a few anxious walks around your living room later, you hear the horn honking outside. You grab your coat and your keys and dash out the door, sending a quick text to your friend letting her know you’re running late. 

“Late to our biggest gig yet?! This looks bad, guys.” you screech, slamming the door shut behind you. 

“Chill, we'll make it. Van wouldn’t start, but she's runnin’ now.” Carter barks from the front seat, patting his hand on the dashboard. You roll your eyes and buckle your seat belt, listening to them chatter as you anxiously await your arrival. 

—

Rushing down the basement steps with your gear, you wade through the decently sized crowd making your way to the side of the stage. You can tell the opening band is almost finished and you rip your guitar case open to check the tuning. 

From the corner of your eye you see your best friend sauntering up to you, camera in hand just like she promised. You try to give her the quick rundown of the set so she can plan her shots but you can tell her head is elsewhere as she peers over her shoulder scanning the crowd. You wonder if it has anything to do with the boy she was talking to as you walked in. 

“Foxtrot, you’re up!” you hear the coordinator shout, and you know it’s time to take the stage. You throw your arms around your friend's neck, kissing her cheek and taking your leave for the stage. “Wish us luck! Make sure you get my good side!” 

With your guitar slung around your shoulder, you wait for Carter to cue you in on the drums, ready to play to this rowdy crowd in front of you. Your eyes scan the audience as Steff starts to sing, spotting a few familiar t-shirts with your band logo on them. A smile crosses your face as you enter in on the next song, seeing your friend down below you as she works her away across the stage snapping photos you hope to use for the band's socials. Your fingers are dancing along the frets, keeping perfect time with the drums and bass as you look out into the crowd again.

When your eyes sweep the room you notice a guy leaning against the brick wall, drinking from a beer can as he nods his head along in time with the music. His eyes are on you, dark and piercing. His dark curly hair frames his face beneath his hat, turned backwards of course in the darkness of the room. You see a smirk pull across his lips as you make eye contact, and you feel yourself blushing so you look away. 

You wish that you hadn’t abandoned his gaze when you look away and spot your ex on the other side of the room, about four rows back, with his eyes on you. You knew there was a chance he would be here. You’d been dodging his calls for weeks, and rightfully so. He betrayed your trust and that was that. You didn’t have time for the back and forth, and to be honest, he wasn’t what he portrayed himself to be anyways. You cut your losses and you have been significantly happier since. As he stands here in front of you, you feel a sense of dread wash over you, knowing this is an issue you’ll have to deal with after the set, on Valentine’s day no less. 

Your attention is snapped away from him, watching as your friend and her camera go flying over a rogue cord on the ground. With her eye to the lens she missed it, tumbling into the hands of a familiar stranger. You laugh under your breath, working your way into the next song, and letting your eyes flick back to your curly haired admirer. 

You’re pretty sure you know who he is, his appearance definitely fits the description, though you didn’t realize how cute he would be in person. He was known to pop up at these shows, always looking for the next great thing, adding names to his ever expanding catalog of local bands. You hadn’t come across him at any of your gigs yet, but it looked like tonight was your lucky night. 

—

After the show you find yourself accepting compliment after compliment, hugs and encouraging words coming from almost every familiar face in the crowd. Between conversations, you try to make your way to the kitchen for at least some water, but for a solid 10 minutes, you’re stuck hosting a receiving line.

As anticipated, your ex makes his way towards you. He’s got a look on his face that tells you he’s had a few drinks and that doesn’t bode well for you.

“Look at you,” he coos, physically pulling you in for a hug with a hand around your upper back. You grimace, politely accepting the inappropriate greeting. “Gotta admit, it’s pretty cool to see my girl up there knowing she’s–”

“Not your girl.” you say, immediately cutting him off. “Thanks for coming.” You try to get away but he grabs your forearm and makes it difficult.

“Hey hey hey, what’s the ruuush?” he slurs, stepping into your line of sight again. “You can’t still be mad.”

“I’m not mad, I just don’t want anything to do with you.” You try to pull yourself out of his predatory grasp but he’s effectively cornering you. 

“I miss you, baby. Look at me and tell me you don’t think about me. Something deep down in there still wants me.” he says, poking you gently in the chest. 

“Fuck off, Brent.” You snap, shooting him a look that could kill. Right as the tension bubbles over, you feel a warm hand on the back of your neck. 

“Hey, got you that drink you wanted.” Turning to look over your shoulder, you’re met with the same pair of striking, dark eyes that were watching you from the back during your performance. 

Brent immediately looks disgruntled, sizing up the tall stranger who is placing his arm around you. 

“Do I know you?” Brent asks.

“Oh, hey, names Danny. Nice to meet you.” He lifts his arm back over your head, then offers his hand to Brent for a sarcastic handshake. You watch the two interact with wide eyes and realize that this Danny character noticed you were in distress and decided to step in. 

“Didn’t think I needed to introduce myself, sorry about that. Most people here have at least some idea who I am.” You turn to look up at him, a little dumbfounded at the way he’s radiating smug confidence strong enough to disarm your asshole ex. 

Brent gives a few slow nods as his eyes move between the two of you. He seems to put the pieces together, deciding to take his leave.

“I’ll see you around,” Brent says to you with a terse smile, pushing his way through the crowd and out of sight. Once he’s gone, you turn to fully face your savior, giving him a relieved smile. 

You had heard about Danny Wagner. Drummer, Nashville local, party boy, general good time. He’s a little too famous to be at a show like this, so you can’t help but ask him why.

“Thanks for stepping in. I could have handled it, but… you really expedited it. So thanks.” You say, a little guarded, but appreciative nonetheless. 

“He seemed like a real prick, and I had been waiting to come over and introduce myself anyway.” Danny says, his smile sweet and disarming, but you’re not going to let yourself fall into the trap you know many women have fallen into before.

“I thought you didn’t need to?” you quip boldly, opening the beer he handed you. 

“Well, do I?” he responds quickly, laughing softly.

“It’s only polite…” you muse.

“Daniel Wagner. I really liked your set.” he says, tipping the bottle of beer back and licking his lips clean after he takes a sip. 

“That’s very kind.” you say, polite, but a little cold. Your eyes scan the room quickly, a little concerned about what others may think looking at this conversation from the outside. Danny’s reputation is less than great, and you wouldn’t want anyone attributing the slight amount of success you would say tonight was to him. 

“Can I ask what you’re doing at a basement show, though?” you prod, giving him a bit of a suspicious look. He takes it in stride, his confidence never faltering. 

“I was supposed to be on my way to New York, but due to some…unforeseen circumstances, I found myself at home on Valentine’s day. Seeing as most restaurants are booked, bars are full of schmucks on dates, and all that… I figured I would drop in. Stay up to date on the local music scene. You know.”

You raise your brows at him. You actually don’t know, so you crack a smile. 

“I see. How kind of you to grace us with your presence.” you snark, trying to suppress a grin.

Danny lets out a big laugh at that, almost choking on his beer. You laugh along, glad he’s not too offended. There’s no way he hadn’t heard the murmurings about him, so it’s nice to see he’s a good sport. 

“I’m gonna–” You start to tell him you have to go load up your equipment when you’re interrupted by a random voice.

“Hey! Can we get a picture?” 

That’s your cue. You sneak away towards the stage, starting to pack up alongside your bandmates. Every few minutes, you glance back towards Danny, caught up with some excited fans. It’s not that you’re avoiding him, because if you’re being honest, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s the gnawing worry at the back of your mind that’s telling you to tread lightly.

Crouching down, you peel up the tape from the makeshift stage. As you stand and follow the trail, pulling it from the floor, you’re brought to a pair of bright white Adidas stepping on it, keeping you from going any further. Straightening up to stand at your full height, you realize it’s Danny.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh, no, you’re fine. It’s a little complicated, so…” You try to brush him off.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” he says, a little snarky. “The faster you’re done the faster you can have fun, right?” He’s proving to be a persistent guy who definitely likes a challenge. Something about that brings some color to your cheeks, but you try to keep a level head.

“If you really insist…” you tell him with a smirk, stepping aside so he can unplug the cord you just freed from the stage. 

The room is still fairly loud so as Danny helps you get packed up there aren’t too many words exchanged. You feel his eyes on you though. It’s difficult not to steal a few glances his way too, watching as he bends at the knee, his broad shoulders flexing while he maneuvers around equipment. 

Carter pushes away with the last road case and then there’s little to nothing left to do. 

“Thanks for your help. You seriously didn’t have to do that.” 

“It’s all good. I honestly miss doing some of the more hands-on stuff. It felt like riding a bike.” He gives you a genuine smile, his comment making you reconsider your preconceived notions of him. He seems to be a sweet guy despite his sizable ego and cocky presence. You brush your hands off on your thighs and offer Danny a grateful smile. As you do so, you feel the key to the van in your front pocket.

“Oh, shit. They’re probably out there waiting for me.” You jump into motion, heading for the door you came in through. Danny follows your quick footsteps with relaxed, large ones of his own, shifting to squeeze through the crowd with you. You’re surprised to find him behind you when you get out into the cold, but decide not to question it this time. You just smile and jog down the stairs. 

He proves to be incredibly helpful, lifting and stowing the heaviest items without more than the occasional grunt. Your eyes are constantly darting between your task at hand and his arms- the fabric of the athletic quarter zip he’s wearing is stretching around his biceps and it’s enough to make your heart pound. 

“You really didn’t have to do all that.” you murmur with a warm smile as Danny shuts the door. He lets out a big breath, his shoulders relaxing a little.

“It’s really nothing. I’m happy to help.” He goes on speaking but you’re distracted as you look over his shoulder, seeing your best friend and photographer over at her car, talking to a guy who’s within awfully close proximity. You can’t see his face, but he’s in a red beanie and a sweater. You have a feeling your plans to hang out after the show tonight are about to go to the wayside as you watch them talk and bump elbows. 

“It’s freezing out here. I’m gonna… head inside?” you say, a questioning lilt to your voice. You don’t directly ask him to come with you, but you assume he’s going to. 

“Yeah, let’s get you another drink. I lost track of it when you put it down on one of the amps.” he says, leading you back inside with a hand on the small of your back. 

You immediately feel nervous as you walk back through the door and a few pairs of eyes find you with Danny trailing almost too close behind. You worry they’ll think the worst, which you can’t imagine would be good for your possibly blossoming career, but he’s been charming and helpful thus far and it wouldn’t be fair to write him off. 

“I’m gonna find the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere, alright?” he says, leaning in close to say the words in your ear, making sure they’re heard despite the next band starting to warm up. You nod and he walks off while you search the kitchen for something to drink.

You crack open a can of beer and sip the foam that starts to bubble up. As you’re doing so, a petite dark haired girl approaches you. She seems young, her skin a striking olive shade. You swallow the foam in your mouth and lift your head.

“Hey...” she says, looking over her shoulder, then back at you.

“Hi!” you return, wiping your mouth. You go to speak again, intending to ask if she liked the show, but she cuts you off. She steps a little closer, since it’s incredibly loud.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up. About Danny?”

You retract a little, surprised that she thinks you need a warning. Had the two of you come across as having that much chemistry? You nod and lean forward again for her to continue.

“I’d just be careful with him if I were you. He really doesn’t have the best reputation, or a shred of respect for women. Don’t let him fool you.”

You scoff a laugh, a little annoyed and insulted that this girl thinks you don’t have good judgment or can’t fend for yourself. 

“Oh, great! Thanks for the tip!” you quip, watching her eyes cut just a touch, as you feel a hand brush across your lower back. 

“Tori…” his voice is smooth, as he takes his place next to you. “Can’t say I didn’t expect to see you here.” he pauses, dropping his hand from your back to step a little closer.  “You’re always just kind of… here, aren’t you?” He sips from his fresh drink as he waits for her response.

“Actually, Daniel, I was just leaving.” she replies, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to be unaffected. 

“Ouch, the government name…” he feigns hurt, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Well, thanks for coming out!” you say, an air of faux enthusiasm in your voice. She rolls her eyes subtly as she walks away, and you smile turning to face Danny who is wearing his own cheeky grin. 

“So, what were you two talking about?” he asks, peering over the edge of his beer can.

“Oh, she was just… complimenting the set, nothing really.” you lie, biting your lips together.

“Who, Tori? She probably hasn’t even stepped foot into the basement! She’s here for one thing and one thing only and it’s not the music, I can assure you.” he says with a huff of annoyance.

“Oh, can you? Assure me?” you smirk playfully. 

“No! Well, I mean, god. Okay yes, I can. But also, that’s not why I’m here, and it wasn’t that night either. Okay?” he stammers over his words, you’ve caught him in the act and you can tell this doesn't happen often. 

“I’m just messing with you.” you say, watching a blonde girl pat him on his back as she walks behind him. “Hi Danny…” her syrupy sweet voice says. 

 He turns to her to say hello before quickly turning back to you. “Sorry bout that.” he says, refocusing on your conversation, stepping a bit closer. 

Just as you go to speak, you hear someone call his name from across the room, grabbing his attention yet again. He lifts a hand and waves two fingers back at the girl, before lowering it back down and into his pocket.

You raise your eyebrows in question, and he lets his face grow a little softer. 

“I can let you get back to the party, I don’t want to keep you–”

“No, listen, you wanna…You wanna go somewhere else? Not here? A bar or something?” he asks, sincerity lining his voice. 

“I thought they were full of schmucks…” you quip. 

“They are…Never said I wasn’t one…” he smiles back with the raise of his brow.

“What’s wrong? You worried the ghosts of girlfriends’ past are gonna ruin your chances, here?” you quip, offering him a tiny wink.

“So you’re saying I do have a chance…” his eyes are shining in the dim house lights, a few stray curls falling from beneath his baby blue trucker hat. He bites his lip nervously waiting for your response and you can feel the butterflies swirling in your stomach from just his gaze alone.

“Mmm, I haven’t decided yet.” you answer, taking a pull from your beer.

“So let me take you for a drink, then. You can decide after if I’m really as bad as they say.” 

“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned about people talking? People have seen us together all night, and I’m sure half of Tori’s social circle knows at this point, and have found me on Instagram already.” you smirk. 

“No, fuck all those rumors. They are completely out of hand. People get mad when you cut them off. If they can’t talk to you, they’re gonna talk about you. It’s all they have. I don’t let it get to me, I know it’s not true.” he answers, and you feel a little surprised to hear something so noble come from him. 

You tap your finger to your chin pretending to decide, but you already know you’re going. You just don’t want him to know that yet.

“Where?” you question. 

“Somewhere in East? I know a few quieter places.” he answers, really trying his best, you can tell.

“Hmm… You’ll drive me home after?” you ask. 

“Of course. Just say yes, just one drink.” he pauses. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” he says, patting his hand over his heart.

You suck your teeth and pivot on the heel of your boot. “Alright, one…” 

He smiles, and you're positive that had he shown that perfect smile from the get go, you’d have been a goner from the jump. 

“Only because I live over there…” you smile. 

“Oh, no other reason?” he grins, sending you a wink. 

He places his hand on your back again, causing a shiver to run up your spine. You feel good walking out with him, despite the glares you can feel from across the room. He leads you through the crowd, heading towards the door but before you can reach it, a girl jumps out in front of you commanding your attention. You can tell she is drunk by the haziness of her eyes and the blush of her cheeks. Well, that and the drink sloshing out of her red solo cup. 

“I'm sooooo sorry t’bother you…” her words are slurring together and you know this is probably not the first time Danny has had to deal with this. 

“No no, no bother, what’s up? How are you?” he asks, his demeanor suddenly shifting. 

“I just– I have to tell you how much I love your music, it like literally changed my life…I’m like your biggest fan ever.” she slurs, falling over onto her starstruck friend. 

“That’s awesome, thank you so much for listening, we really appreciate you guys.” he answers. 

“Can we take a picture with you?” she asks, pulling her phone from her back pocket. You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he would never tell them that.

“Yeah, yeah no problem, hold on let me just–”

Before he can step closer to her, she is holding the phone up as she moves back, crashing into him and sending her drink flying. Danny is doused in the sticky liquid, what you think is probably vodka and Coke.

His pullover is soaked through, and you watch his jaw clench with anger. He stays calm, however, consoling the very embarrassed fan as if nothing ever happened. “It’s all good, no worries at all. Happens all the time. But hey, we were heading out, great to meet you.”

He quickly ushers you through the crowd, letting out a few mumbles of anger as you walk towards his car. 

“That really happen all the time?” you smirk, watching him smile as he shakes his head. 

“It’s usually not that messy. Literally and figuratively.” He says, clearly in a bit of a huff. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the Jeep that you know is his once the lights flash. You head to the passenger side and hop in, happy to be safe from the wind. You see him standing outside the door for a second, tapping his phone screen before holding it up to his ear. 

“Where’d you get off to?” He asks, his voice muffled. He opens the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as he listens to whoever is on the other line.

“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?” He starts the car quickly once he realizes you’re cold, his hands messing with the dials and turning on the heat for you. You give him a little smirk at the locker room talk you’re sitting in on right now and hope he doesn’t say a word about you. He smirks as he goes to speak once more.

“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Danny says, getting adjusted and buckling his seatbelt. He laughs at whoever is on the other end of the phone and the sound of his laugh brings a little warmth to your otherwise freezing body. 

“Yeah, yeah. You too. See ya.” He hangs up and tosses his phone into the center console. When he’s done, he lifts his hand to push some hair behind his ear and there’s audible proof of how sticky it is. 

“Hang on,” he starts, shifting sideways to look at you as you buckle your seatbelt. “Can we actually stop at my place and have a drink first? I just… I need to change and maybe rinse this shit out of the ends of my hair.” He seems pretty annoyed and you feel for him, so you can’t help but nod. 

“Totally fine.” You smile in an attempt to quell a little bit of his anger bubbling up under the surface. 

He aggressively shifts into drive and all but peels out of the spot he’s parked in, probably leaving tracks in the grass of whoever’s house this is without a care. You smirk as he leans forward to look around the bend of the road before he pulls out and picks up a significant amount of speed. 

The song playing picks up where it must have left off when he arrived, and you think you recognize the familiar sound of the Foo Fighters. He turns it up a little as he starts to sing along, softly and maybe even subconsciously as he concentrates on the road. He’s a bit of a reckless driver, and you find your hand reaching for the handle on the door subtly. 

The chorus comes in and he drums along on the steering wheel as you approach some main roads, slowing down just a little. 

“Give me some rope, I'm coming loose, I’m pulling for you now…”

You smile as he seems to let go of whatever anger was brimming and his charming smile comes back as his enthusiasm grows. Eventually, after a particularly loud, “YEOW!” towards the end of the song, you have to let out a laugh. He glances over at you once he hears it, his eyes flickering between you and the road for a moment before he bites his tongue between his teeth in a playful way that makes your stomach flip. The song ends and another one starts, this one softer, a sweet melodic undercurrent as he drives. Danny taps his fingers softly against the wheel along with the melody like he’s listened to it a few times. 

You know the distance never made a difference to me…

It’s getting brighter as he drives, heading past the restaurants and bars lining the streets of Nashville, crowds and lines and not a single parking spot to be found. 

I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea… 

You listen, not feeling the need to make any conversation, taking these little insights into his taste in music and running with them, putting the pieces together. You find these tidbits more valuable than if he were to outright start talking about himself directly to you. 

As you steal glances at him, you look around his car too. There are a few rubber ducks on the dashboard. One is a leprechaun, another is solid blue. There’s a bigger one that’s white with cherries. There’s one you think is Frankenstein, but you can’t quite tell. 

He has some chapstick in the center console under his phone, a stick of Palmer’s cocoa butter lip balm. He has a friendship bracelet tied to the wrist closest to you, and the opposite has a thin gold bracelet and a smart watch of some sort. His jeans have a little faded indent that shows where he usually keeps his phone.

He flips on his blinker and pulls onto a side street, driving slower now through the suburban streets. As he pulls into his driveway, he turns the music down a little, looking at you while he shifts into park. 

He reaches for his phone, then the chapstick. He puts some on quickly and then offers it to you, holding on to the cap. You accept, swiping on a little before wordlessly handing it back. He secures the cap and then speaks. 

“Shall we?” 

You open the car door and jump out, fixing your clothes briefly before closing it behind you. He wraps a warm arm around you as he leads the way down the pathway to the front door of his house. 

“God, it’s fucking freezing.” He says, eventually taking his arm back so he can use both hands to put the key in and turn the knob.

As you wait for him to unlock his front door you can smell the sticky sweetness radiating from his clothes, mixing with the masculine scent of his cologne. He smells warm and clean and you want to bury your face into him to escape the cold. The wind is whipping your hair around, and cutting through the fabric of your corset top, sending shivers through your body. He pushes the door open and you’re instantly met with the heat of his home, bathed in warm amber lighting. 

He flips a few light switches and plugs his keys into a Marshall key rack, before kicking his shoes off and locking the door. He takes off his hat, and peels off his liquor covered pull over, giving you the smallest glimpse of the dark hair peeking from the top of his jeans. He tosses it onto his kitchen counter and it's then you see the thick black bands inked across his bicep. His t-shirt is tight across his chest, adorned with birds and a sunset motif, as he reaches for his hat, placing it back on top of his dark curls letting out a sigh of relief before looking at you. 

“So, drinks. What do you um– What would you like? I think I can make most anything.” he says, walking over to a small wooden bar cart against the wall. You unzip your boots and leave them at his front door, happy to finally have them off after all this time.

“Anything?” you ask, leaning your hip into his kitchen counter. “How confident are you in your mixology skills?”

He gives you a smug grin, “I’d say I’m pretty confident. I’ve been known to pour up a drink or two. No complaints so far.”

“Can you make a Martini? A good one?” you ask, pushing off the counter and walking over towards him. 

“Vodka or Gin?” he asks, sliding both of the bottles from their respective places. “Wait, are you a dirty girl?”

You send him a self righteous smile and lean against the cabinet next to him. “What do you think?”

“Okay. So, Gin it is.” he says, twisting the lid from the bottle. 

“Lucky guess.” you answer, watching him walk to the fridge to retrieve a jar of olives. He grabs a cocktail shaker and a few ice cubes on his way back to the bar cart, setting the items down to begin the process. You watch intently as he adds the Gin and Vermouth to the shaker, adding a healthy splash of olive brine to the silver cup. He places the lid on top of the shaker and starts to shake the mixture together over the ice. His arms flex as he does so, and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of him and his perfectly tanned complexion. 

After a few seconds he stops, pulling the frosty lid off and straining the mixture into two waiting martini glasses. He works precariously to skewer a few olives through toothpicks, dropping them into the glasses and extending the first one out to you. 

You take a sip from the cold glass, tasting the saltiness on your tongue. 

“Well, dirty enough for you?” he asks, sipping from his own.

“Mmhm. Just right.” you murmur. 

He leads you over to his couch, a firm black leather number with a few throw pillows and a blanket or two strewn about. You both sit, sipping at your drinks as he reaches over to grab a remote, turning on a stereo system that's clearly wired through the whole house. 

“Any preference?” he asks, pulling out his phone.

“Surprise me.” 

Music starts to play through the house, something much softer than you expected based on what he’d played in the car. You definitely didn’t take him for a folk rock kind of guy, but the more you think about it, he’s been full of surprises all night. 

You can feel your chest growing warm as the gin works its way into your bloodstream. His cheeks are a little more pink than they were, and since the removal of his jacket you notice his arms are a little flushed too. 

You look around his living room, noticing pictures on the wall of what you can only assume are his bandmates and he in various cities and countries. A few framed albums hang on the wall along with some artwork for color. However, the entire back wall of his living room is lined with guitars. 

“You play guitar…” the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Yeah, yeah. I do. Was my first instrument, though now I’m a drummer. Guitar was really my first love. What about you? How long you been playing?” he asks. 

“Oh, since I was eleven. Got one for Christmas and my parents got me some lessons. Just kinda clicked you know?” you answer, “Which uh– which one is your favorite?” you ask, gesturing your glass towards the guitars hanging. 

“Oooh, probably– Um, probably the yellow one, far left. I find myself reaching for it the most. Good little thing, lots of power if you know how to wield it.” he answers, sipping from his glass. 

You nod and look back at him, “So you love guitar but you’re the drummer?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I know, sounds backwards but, my brother, Jake, he’s…He’s way better than I’ll ever be. I fit on drums, you know? It works for us. Obviously.” he laughs, a dimple peeking out on his cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah I understand I almost played bass in my band.” you quip, tossing back the rest of your drink. You pull the toothpick of olives from the glass and pop one into your mouth.

“Are these blue cheese olives?” you ask. 

“They are, yeah. I like them in a Martini.” he answers confidently. 

“They’re really good. I love olives.” you reply, setting your glass on the coffee table. 

“So, you had your one drink. It’s the moment of truth…”

“Hmm… Might need another to make a really good solid decision, you know?” you say playfully, resting your head on the couch cushion and letting your eyes flick up to meet his. 

“I think I could do that…” he says, snatching your glass from the table and returning to the bar cart. 

“You know, you guys sounded really good up there. I was into it. I’m glad we got there when we did.” he says, shaking the silver shaker. 

“We?” you ask, wondering who he left at the show.

“Oh, yeah. I came with my buddy Sam. The one on the phone earlier. He’s the bass player in our band.” he says, pouring up the drinks. 

“I see, so you left him there...” you joke. 

“You heard for yourself he seemed preoccupied…” he laughs, and he’s right, he definitely sounded busy. 

“So you two are like, best friends outside of the band?” you ask, accepting the glass from his hand as he rejoins you on the couch, a little closer this time. He grabs a thick blue blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it to you with a gentle smile as he answers your question. 

“Yeah, I mean we were best friends before the band ever really existed. Just kind of solidified our friendship. Been quite a few years of craziness together.”

“And the others…They’re all brothers, right? Or is that just a rumor?” you ask.

“Yeah, all brothers, twins and then Sam who is a couple years younger. My age.” he says, sipping from his glass with a loud exhale. 

“Is that…weird?” you ask, a little hesitantly. 

“Not at all. I’m practically their brother too. Known ‘em my whole life. Wouldn’t be able to do this crazy on the go life with anyone but them, I think.” he says, letting his walls down just enough to let you peek in. 

“How many months out of the year do you guys tour?”

“Shit, a lot. We’re gone more than we’re home these days. Probably eight or nine I’d say. Either in the US, Europe, Mexico… Fuckin’ everywhere now. It’s crazy.” he says, staring off into the distance, his eyes locked on the small flame flickering in his electric fireplace.

“So you guys are pretty famous then...Touring that long… Even have random girls spilling their drinks on you at parties just for a single photo…” you wink. 

“Oh, do I detect a hint of jealousy from Miss Y/N?” he asks. 

“No, I’m not jealous… I mean, I’m the one sitting on your couch drinking Martini’s aren’t I?”

He laughs and shakes his head, tipping his drink to his lips. “I had to work for it, but… you sure are, sweetheart.”

“Did you think I wasn’t gonna say yes to drinks?” you ask, your eyes locking in on him as the alcohol swirls through your system. You can tell he’s feeling it too, letting himself become a little more flirty. 

“Wasn’t sure, was kinda touch and go there for a minute. I hoped you would agree. Could hardly take my eyes off of you all night. Saw you and… Yeah, I just had to talk to you.”

“You use that line on all the girls?” you ask, sipping the last of the frosty drink. 

“No, guys too, I don’t play favorites.” he smirks, biting the olive off of his toothpick with a wink. 

Fuck…

You smile and nod, biting your lip between your teeth as you feel color rush to your cheeks. 

“How does it feel?” he asks, his eyes trained on your lips, watching as you release it. 

“What?” you breathe.

He swallows harshly, “Nothin’...Nevermind.” he says, shaking the thoughts from his mind. “Well, drink two…Have you made up your mind yet? Am I as bad as they say? Are you dying to get out of here?” he asks, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He’s inched a little closer to you and you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. 

“What if I say yes?” you ask, leaning forward just a touch.

He repositions himself, taking your glass and placing it with his on the table. He moves a little closer, mirroring your body as he rests his head on his hand on the back of the couch. 

“Well, then I’ll get us some water, get my head on straight, and take you home. Is that what you want?” he asks, his dark eyes boring into yours as he tilts his chin down.

“And if I say no?” you answer. 

“If you say no, then I…Make us another drink and we can keep talking and…see what happens…” he says, his voice trailing off, hoping you will take that option, and there’s no doubt in your mind which option you’re going to pick.

“What were you thinking about a minute ago? …Tell me.” you say, pulling your legs up and tucking them under you. 

He rubs his hand over his chin, nodding his head in agreement. “Your lips.”

“What about them?” you ask, feeling your heart start to pound.

“I don’t know, they’re just pretty. Wanted to know how it felt… watching you bite them.” he admits. He grins, unabashed. “Your turn…What’re you thinking about?” he asks. 

“I’m thinking…another drink.” He grins when he realizes you’ve made your decision. 

“I’ll make you another drink… But only if you tell me what you and Tori were actually talking about.” he counters as he stands, grabbing both of your glasses. As he walks away, you snicker softly. 

“Why do I feel like you already know?” you ask, standing to follow him to the kitchen island. He shrugs, his broad shoulders flexing a little in a way that catches your eye. You walk by him, exploring his kitchen. 

“I’m certain I was the subject, but something tells me her interpretation of what happened between her and I has become a bold departure from the truth…” he muses in a smooth voice as he pours. 

“It was a warning really…” you begin, standing in front of his refrigerator. There’s one pizza menu, a mostly unused magnetic notepad, and some photos. “She was letting me know that you’re very charming and convincing, but underneath it all, you apparently have zero respect for women.” 

He chuckles as he gently places the olive skewers in your drinks, unbothered by the retelling of Tori’s dramatic warning. You look at the photos on his fridge, realizing that most of them are of his family. They look pretty wholesome. 

“Tori and I ended badly because I felt that she was a bit too… immature, emotionally. She puts a lot of stock into social media and status and things like that, which just isn’t how I am. My life is on display enough already.” He says truthfully, pushing your drink towards you. 

“You have a sister?” You ask, looking over your shoulder, then back to their Old Navy catalog-esque family photos. 

“I do, yeah. She's my best friend… much to Sam’s dismay.” He says, sipping from his own glass and retreating to the couch. 

“That’s sweet…You two seem really close.” you say as you turn to grab your drink, following him as he takes a seat. 

“I’m not all bad.” 

He looks up at you, a devilish smirk on his lips. He tugs the brim of his hat a little, as if he wants to see you better. Taking a big gulp of your drink, you remove the olives and hold the toothpick between two fingers. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, shifting his hips a little so his thighs are spread wide on the couch and patting his thigh. You flush from the combination of his eyes on you and the alcohol hitting your system. You put your glass down, figuring you’ve had enough, and delicately straddle him where he sits. Watching as he takes a sip of his own drink, you let out a little huff.

“Oh, I didn’t get to eat my olives.” you say, a little disappointed, turning to reach for your drink. 

“Here.” Danny’s voice is suddenly delicate as he speaks. You look back into his eyes and he’s got his own toothpick between his fingers. “Open.”

You open your mouth tentatively, then bite down on the bottom olive once it’s in far enough. He pulls the toothpick away and you chew gingerly, your smile a little coy. 

“S’good?” He asks, his voice still soft. You nod your head. “I feel like olives are hit or miss for a lot of people.”

“I love a good salty treat…” you say with a shrug, which earns you a boisterous chuckle from him. 

“You were a tough nut to crack but… you’re pretty fun.” He says, watching as you take a sip of his drink to wash the olive down since you can’t reach your own. You smile, your eyes slightly narrowed, wordlessly confirming that yeah, you’re fun when you want to be. 

As if he sees you’ve gotten a little bit of a big head over it, he decides to trip you up. He leans back and puts his drink on the end table before he speaks. 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and give me a kiss? I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

You lick your lips, a little nervous. He’s telling you to make the first move.

“Let me just get my pen…” you say, looking around. 

“What?” He looks genuinely confused. 

“Oh, for the NDA. Right?” 

As soon as you deliver the punchline, he’s pulling you in for a hungry kiss so fast you barely get a laugh out. His massive hand is on the back of your neck to keep you in place while the other has a grip on your forearm, again, keeping you in place. You moan softly in surprise but let yourself lean into him, steadying yourself on his chest with your free hand. You feel how damp his shirt still is from the drink he had poured on him. 

His lips are perfectly soft, reminding you of the chapstick he so graciously shared with you in the car. You tug softly on the grip he has in your forearm and he releases it, allowing you to push up for a breath of air. 

He, however, doesn’t seem to need any. He quickly buries his face in your neck, his mouth latching onto your throat, his tongue pulling the delicate skin between his teeth before he bites down with a bit of force. You can’t help the way your hips roll forward, your mouth releasing a sound you don’t even recognize. 

“Yeah?” He says, his smirk audible. 

“…Yeah.” 

He does it again and again, moving down your neck towards your clavicle, then the fullest part of each of your tits, leaving red bites and splotches as he goes. You’re breathless by the time he looks back up at you, his lips swollen and his eyes a little wild. He grins, his perfect, sharp teeth flashing in the dim light of his living room. 

You capture him in another kiss, this time lacing your fingers in his hair, carefully making sure not to pull at any of his perfect curls. You feel a little bit of the stickiness from the spill earlier and pull your hand away gently as hair gets stuck to your fingers. He breaks the kiss, taking a few shallow breaths as you watch the way his chest rises and falls. 

“…I’m a fuckin’ mess. What do you say to helping me wash this out of my hair?” He mumbles, his eyes looking over you in a way that implies he knows you’re going to say yes. 

“Oh, yeah. It looks like a two person job. I’m happy to help.”  You giggle softly before he pecks you on the lips. You lift from his lap, feeling your balance waver slightly as you get your footing. He’s on his feet quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind to steady you. 

“Think you’ll make it up the stairs?” He jokes, his voice soft, his lips against the shell of your ear. You laugh as he squeezes tight around you, leaning your head against his.

“You do make a strong drink… but I’ll be okay.” 

He kisses your cheek, sending you forward with a quick smack on your ass. 

You ascend the stairs, Danny following close behind. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach the top, and turning over your shoulder only confirms it. He looks up and meets your eyes, giving you a guilty smile.

He puts a gentle, possessive hand on the back of your neck as he guides you into his bedroom. It’s dark until he flips on the lights, the switch controlling two lamps on either side of his bed. He doesn’t stop there, though, continuing to guide you towards the bathroom.

Once inside, you’re met with a sparkling clean bathroom, an impressive shower that’s about as big as your bedroom, and a dual basin sink. He turns you around for another kiss, this time sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, his teeth biting softly into the skin. When he hears the whimper it conjures from deep in your chest, he does it again with more enthusiasm before breaking the kiss and leaving you wanting more. 

He steps into the large open concept shower, flicking the handle to start the water. There's chill bumps spreading across his skin from the coldness of the water and the tile beneath his feet. He walks back out as you lean against the bathroom wall, watching him as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a fairly chiseled physique. His skin is pretty tan for February but you chalk it up to traveling and don’t think much of it. 

He presses the button on a portable speaker hanging from a towel hook behind you, powering it on. He slides his phone from his pants pocket and turns on the same music that was playing downstairs, before tossing his phone onto the counter and stepping over to a closet to grab another towel. He hangs it on the hook next to his and you wish that the sight didn’t make your cheeks grow warm. 

Steam starts to rise from the streams of water in the shower, and as you remember just how cold it is outside, you shiver wanting nothing more than to be standing under the scalding hot water. He breaks your trance by stepping in front of you, sliding his hand around your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. He pulls your bottom lip away from your teeth as he pulls away from you, releasing it with a grin. He runs his warm hands over your arms, feeling the chill bumps that have taken up residency. 

“You cold, sweetheart? You wanna get warmed up?” he asks, sliding them back up to your shoulders. His fingers hook into the the straps of your top, pulling them down over your shoulders to rest gently on your arms. 

“Yeah, got any ideas?” you answer playfully, toying with the button on his jeans. You free the button from the hole, and slide his zipper down before pulling them away. 

“A few right off the top of my head. Why don’t you take this off for me…” he says, sliding his finger down the center of your top. You reach for the zipper on the side, slowly pulling it down until the fabric breaks free. You let it fall to the tile floor, leaving you in just your black jeans. His eyes dart down to your chest and he sucks in a deep breath before letting his eyes meet yours. They are darker, deeper, and completely blown out with lust. 

He lets his knuckles just barely graze over your skin as they travel up your stomach and over your sternum, sliding across your collarbone and down around the fullness of your tits. His thumb just lightly grazes over your nipple, feeling the pebbled flesh beneath his finger tip.  

Your eyes flick to his lips, full and pouty as his fingers trace over your skin. You let your hands wrap around his torso as you press your lips to his, feeling his hands grip into your chest, with a firm squeeze. A whimper leaves your mouth and you can feel the smile on his lips. 

“These too?” he says, sliding his hand to the button on your jeans. 

“Mmhm…” you hum, letting him pop the button. You shimmy out of the tight black pants, just your thong between you and his hands now. 

“Red…How festive.” he snarks, sucking hard into your neck again. You roll your eyes but he can’t see, still it makes you feel better.

You slide your fingers into the front of his open jeans, silently asking him to join you. He pulls his pink lips away from your skin and kicks his jeans off, pausing and looking at you for a moment before sliding his dark colored boxers over his hips and down to the floor. Your eyes don’t leave his, but from your peripheral you can see that he is fully hard, and hanging heavily between the two of you. 

You swallow thickly, and he seems to notice, letting a smug grin spread across his face as he licks his lips. 

“Still a bit uneven, hm?” he says, hooking his fingers into the sides of your thong, and sinking to his knees before sliding them over your hips. When they hit the floor you step out of them, kicking them to the side. You feel his hands slide up the front of your legs, circling around to rest at the back of your thighs as a deep hum leaves his chest. 

His lips connect with your hip bone, kissing and sucking at the skin until a deep purple mark is left behind. You can feel yourself practically dripping with want for him, and you know if you two don’t get into the shower quickly, he will be your undoing without even properly touching you. 

He stands, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his large stone tiled shower, a freestanding tub just to the side. The second the water hits your skin you let out an audible groan, the goosebumps quickly disappearing. 

“Yeah? Not too hot?” he asks, pulling you under the spray. 

“Not hot enough…” you quip, raising an eyebrow. 

“Any hotter and we’ll descend into hell, babe.” he laughs, twisting the handle a bit further. 

As he steps under the spray to wet his hair you take the time to look at him. The subtle contours of his body, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the stretch of his tattoo as he rakes his hands through his curls. Your eyes flick to his groin, taking in the sheer size of him, and of course you’re caught in the act. 

“S’not polite to stare…” he smirks. “You wanna hand me that body wash right there?” he asks, nodding his head to a shelf of products. You grab the amber colored bottle, ready to hand it to him but instead squirting the masculine smelling shower gel into your own palm. 

You rub it between both of your hands before pressing them both to his abs, starting to slide the soapy bubbles across his skin. “This okay?” you ask, locking eyes with him. 

“Fuck yeah, baby.” 

You continue sliding your hands around his body, traveling up and around his broad shoulders before sliding back down his slender frame. He presses his tongue into his cheek every time your hands slide a little further down, and after a few teasing attempts you let your hand circle around his fully hardened cock. 

He swallows heavily as you slide your soapy fist up and down his shaft, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Yeah baby, just like that, feels so good. C’mere…” he pleads, pulling your face to his and pressing his lips to yours. His tongue swipes against your lips before pressing into your mouth, your tongues playing a game of cat and mouse as your hand continues to work him. He groans as he pulls away from you, letting the water wash over him and rinse away the suds. You press a kiss to his chest, sucking the skin into your teeth to leave a mark of your own, but he stops you, pulling you away with a smirk. 

“No, no, no…Can’t this time, gotta wear a sheer shirt in three days. Gonna have to mark somewhere you can’t see.”  he says, tilting your chin up with his thumb. 

You purse your lips together before raising a brow. You sink down to your knees, feeling him brush your wet hair away from your face. You grip his cock in your fist once again as he leans against the cold tile behind him, his hand coming to rest in your hair. 

You lean forward, pressing a wet kiss to the tip of his dick, locking eyes with him before letting him slide past your lips and into your mouth. His jaw clenches as you stroke him, letting your tongue slide up and down the underside of his cock as the water pours down around the two of you. You slide your hand up his thigh, cupping his balls in your free hand as you take him as far down as you can. You swallow around him, and his hips jerk forward, a groan leaving his chest. 

You blink up at him, and seeing that he’s enjoying this is making you all the more aroused. His eyes flutter closed and you whine around him, causing his eyes to fly back open. 

“Oh, you want me to watch you, baby?” he asks, his hand gripping into your wet hair. You blink at him as the wet sounds of your mouth echo in the large shower. 

He clicks his tongue, “Of course you want me to watch you. I saw you on the stage tonight…Everyone fawning over you. Feels good doesn’t it, sweetheart? Having everyone’s eyes on you? It’s addicting huh, baby?” he pauses, jerking his hips forward, earning him a gag from your throat. “Fuck… It gets better you know… Bigger crowds, more people, more pressure. People fucking dying to meet you everywhere you go. My eyes are on you now baby. You’ve got my full attention.”

He fucks into your mouth again, a grunt leaving his chest as his words falter. Water is dripping from the ends of his hair down onto your face as his eyes stay locked on yours. “You looked so fuckin’ hot on the stage tonight, but you’re so goddamn pretty right here just for me.”

He slides his hand from your hair and cups your jaw, letting his thumb and fingers press into the hollows of your cheeks. You’re positive he can feel his cock sliding against his fingers as he moves in your mouth, and you feel like you might cum from this alone. 

“Fuck…” he groans, pulling himself from your mouth and quickly grabbing your hand to pull you up from your sore knees. 

“But I wanted–”

“Don’t worry baby, you’re gonna get exactly what you want…” he says, pulling you under the spray to warm you body for just seconds before spinning you around to face away from him. He pulls you tightly to his chest, his hard cock resting just beneath your ass. His right hand slides around to your front, his fingers sliding between your folds, feeling the wetness collected there. 

“You sweet little thing, you like sucking my cock?” he asks, swirling two fingers over your clit. “Answer me.” he says, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You jump at the contact and you feel a rush of wetness sweep over you. 

“Yes…” you breathe, unable to form a coherent sentence. You want him to do it again. You want it harder. 

“You did so good, might let you do it again…” he says, sliding his middle finger inside of you. 

“Oh goddamn, you’re so tight…” he groans, adding another finger as his palm works over top of your clit. 

“Danny…” you breathe, feeling your nerves come alive. 

“Yeah? You want more?” he asks, your heavy breathing echoing in the shower. 

“Bite me… Again…” you beg, “Please…”

“Oh, so sweet with your tight pussy and your manners.” he taunts.

His lips brush against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to the skin, letting his tongue swipe over it before sinking his teeth into you again. 

“Oh, fuck…” you cry out, clenching around his fingers as his tongue laps against the fresh bite mark. 

“Yeah? You like that? Want me to mark you all up, claim you as mine?” he asks, “Your pussy says yes, but what does that sweet mouth say?”

“Again…” you beg.

A hum leaves his chest, “Step forward, put your hands on the edge of the tub for me, gorgeous.” he says, pulling his fingers from you, and smacking your ass with his wet hand. 

You grip your hands into the white porcelain, feeling him step up behind you, admiring the red handprint he left behind seconds ago. You feel his hands grip into your ass, rubbing over the round flesh before sinking to his knees behind you. You feel his breath hot against your core, a shiver of anticipation settling deep within your bones. 

His hands grip into the meat of your thighs before his mouth connects with your core, his hot tongue lapping at your entrance. The sounds echoing off the walls are lewd, but the euphoria washing over your body is all consuming. His tongue flicks over your clit and you find yourself arching your back to grant him easier access. His hand travels up the inside of your thigh, his thumb finding your clit and flicking across it as his tongue toys with your opening. You groan into the empty tub below you, your knees growing weaker with every movement of his tongue. 

“Danny…” you plead, knowing your orgasm is approaching. 

The wet sounds of his tongue on your pussy are growing louder, and with a particularly loud suck you find yourself screaming his name. He hums against you as your legs start to shake, feeling his lips pull away from you and move to the inside of your thigh, he presses a kiss to the sensitive skin, before again sinking his teeth into you. 

Lighting strikes through your body, and you know your release is within reach. He runs his tongue up the inside of your thigh, pressing a kiss to the tender bite before returning his mouth to your core. 

“Danny…Danny please… please…” you beg.

You feel him smile against you, “You sound like my fans, baby…You don’t have to beg…” he pauses, sucking your clit into his mouth.

He brings both of his hands to your ass, squeezing the skin as he lets his teeth gently graze your clit, sending you straight over the edge. A string of indiscernible curses leave your mouth, strung together beautifully with his name woven inbetween. 

He holds you against the tub, not letting your body crash to the ground as it so badly wants to do. He works you through your release, his tongue slowing as he feels you start to come down. 

“Guess I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of a rockstar cumming on your face…” he jokes, running his nose up your spine as he stands behind you. 

You huff out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah?” you pause, “And which end do you prefer…”

“This one.” he says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass cheek. You yelp in surprise, and feel another rush of wetness to your core. 

He kisses your shoulder again, breathing in deeply as he fists his cock behind you. “Wanna fuck you, baby…”

“Last chance for that NDA…” you joke, quickly feeling him press you back down onto the ledge of the bathtub, the head of his cock brushing at your entrance. He presses into you, sliding in quickly from the wetness accumulated. 

Your once playful demeanor has rapidly changed gears at the fullness you feel inside you. You tighten around him as you feel his groin pressed to your ass, the coarse pubic hair at his base brushing against your opening. 

His hand rests on your shoulder as you feel him start to pull out just long enough to slam back into you. 

“Oh, fuck…” he breathes, the tightness of your pussy suddenly a little too much for him. He slides his hand down your back, both hands now gripping into your hips as he moves in and out of you, setting a fairly quick pace. 

Your tits bounce against your chest as your hands grip into the tub, whines floating from your lips as his cock crashes into your cervix. You gasp each time, and you think that's what's spurring him on, but by this point he knows that you may possess a few masochistic tendencies.

“Goddamn you’re so gorgeous, perfect fuckin’ body, perfect tight pussy…” he grunts, the hot water still streaming down over the two of you. 

“Tell me what you want.” he demands, “Want you to cum on my cock.”

“Harder. More…” you plead, the sound of your wet bodies slapping together, inching you both closer. 

He leans over you, his hands sliding up your back to rest on your arms. You feel his lips trail up your spine, kissing into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck. “Yeah, you want more?” he growls against you, biting into your skin harder than he has. 

You feel his perfect teeth sink into you, the harsh sting sizzling through you like fire. He groans into your neck with his lips still attached to you and you feel a rush of warmth trickle down your skin. A drop of crimson red blood drips onto the tile below you, quickly washing down the drain.  

A whine leaves your chest, the pressure in your groin building as his tongue laps over the broken skin, hot and wet. His hips snap into you a little harder and a little tighter, and it’s evident to you that maybe he has a few kinks of his own. 

You feel a rivulet of blood trickling down your back, his hand coming up to spread it across your wet skin for only him to see, that is until his hand grips into the white porcelain next to yours. His hand is tinted red, and as he pulls it away to grip back into your hips, it’s a smear of bloody fingerprints that's left behind.

“Fuck…I’m– Hold on to the tub, don’t let go.” he says, spreading his stance a little wider behind you, but bringing one foot up to the edge of the tub for leverage. He drives his hips into you harder, a groan leaving his chest with each pointed thrust. “Baby…” you whine, only thoughts of him floating through your mind. 

“Yeah…Come on…” he grunts, his hair dripping onto your back. 

“I’m–”

“Yeah, give it to me. Cum for me so fuckin’ sweet and pretty, god I love it…” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Danny–” you warn, fluttering against him. 

“Yeah right, there, oh fuck…” he whines, as you clench around him.

A loud cry leaves your mouth, his cock still working against your g-spot as you fall apart around him. You feel like you're floating around the room in a thousand pieces, falling back down perfectly into place as he moves inside of you. 

“Danny…” you breathe. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, gonna cum, baby… You want that? You want my cum?” he asks, his hips starting to stutter.

“Please, yes… My mouth… In my mouth, I want you…” you plead. 

“In your mouth…Fuck…” he says, still pumping into you. “I want your pussy so fucking bad baby, but god you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” he pauses, “Fuck it, get on your knees.” he says, pulling out of you, and continuing to rapidly stroke his glistening, wet cock. 

You drop to your knees again, ready to take what you were promised earlier. You pull him into your mouth, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fill your throat full of him. 

“Mother fucker…” he groans, snapping his hips into you. His hand reaches down palming at your tits, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You whine against his cock, and that pushes him to his finish. He swiftly pulls himself from your mouth, pumping his fist over his cock as you peer up at him with your mouth open, and your tongue presented to him. 

“You want my cum, fuck… Take it… Fuckin’ take it.” he grunts, his hot release shooting into your mouth, landing on your tongue. It drips from your lips, rolling down your chin in bitter salty streams, and as he stares at you with a heaving chest you know that both of you need more of each other. Your mouth is full, his hot cum dripping down your chest as he releases his cock from his hand. 

He cups your chin, rubbing his thumb over your cheek with a smirk, before letting it drift into your open mouth, nodding at you to close your lips around it. You close your swollen lips and swallow down his cum with a flutter of your eye lids. It's warm as it slides down your throat, the taste of him unique, causing you to hum. Your tongue toys with his thumb and he pulls it from your lips with a pop. 

He drags his thumb up your throat and over your chin, collecting the drip that had fallen, before returning his thumb to your lips, and smearing it across the puffy pink skin. You lick your lips in response, and you watch as he crouches down in front of you, meeting you at eye level. 

He presses his lips to yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, tasting the remnant of himself on your skin. His hand settles on the side of your neck, pulling you in a little closer and deepening the kiss before pulling away. 

He stares at you with a satisfied smile, and you’re sure you’re looking just as blissed out as he is. 

“Stay here, tonight.” he breathes, rubbing his thumb over your throat. 

“You sure?” you ask, placing your hand on his wrist. 

“I’ll wash your hair and we can order a pizza?” he smiles, trying to sweeten the deal, as if you’ll say no. 

“With pineapple? Or is that a deal breaker…” you counter. 

He smiles his perfect smile and kisses your forehead, helping you stand and escorting you back to the streaming hot water. 

—

After an ironic heart shaped pizza, with pineapple, a glass of red wine and a few laughs, you find yourself being ushered back upstairs with the swat of his hand. He leads you into his bedroom before disappearing back into his bathroom, his queen size bed perfectly made with fluffy beige sheets and feather pillows, and you want nothing more than to melt into them. He was kind enough to lend you a t-shirt and a pair of sweats after your shower, but as you make your way towards the bed you find yourself wanting to slip out of the clothes all together. You kick off the sweats and are left in just his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers.

He emerges from the bathroom, his curls disheveled around his face without any product to keep them together. “I uh, I don’t know if you want this… I dug around in my cabinet and found this from the last time I went to the dentist, but it’s new, and I am honestly shocked I found it, but it’s all yours if you want it.” he stammers, offering you a toothbrush. 

You take it from his hands, pulling it from the cardboard packaging as you follow him into the bathroom. He places himself in front of the sink, grabbing his black electric toothbrush, and the tube of toothpaste. He wets his toothbrush, and unscrews the lid, ready to squirt the paste onto his brush, but stopping and turning to you first. You hold out the toothbrush and let him squeeze a line of toothpaste onto the bristles, giving him a smile before he turns back to his own. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, reading the letters ‘CME’ on the gray t-shirt, and smiling because you’ve always wanted to go there. You catch his eyes in the mirror, watching him brush his own teeth, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he stands in just his black sweatpants. Your eyes flick down to the V of his waist and you find yourself brushing a little harder as you recall the events of the evening. 

He smiles around his foamy toothbrush, likely having the same thoughts, before turning the water on to spit into the sink. You do the same, rinsing your mouth with water and placing the brush on the counter.

“Do you want me to toss this in the morning or…” you ask. 

“Oh, no, you can uh… You can just use it next time I guess. I can keep it here or something.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” you snark, raising your eyebrows in challenge. Your eyes suddenly catch sight of the bloody handprint left on his pristine white tub, and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Should I call my lawyer back? I already had him working on that NDA.” he says through a laugh, turning off the bathroom light and smacking your ass as you cross the threshold into his bedroom. 

He pulls down the comforter, letting you slide into the ice cold sheets before sliding in after you. You shiver a little, but not for long. He snakes his arm beneath you, wrapping it around your shoulder, and pulling you to lay half way on top of him. He twists his legs with yours, and you can feel his semi hard dick hiding just beneath his sweats. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he laughs. 

“I’m not sorry, who knew you would be so fucking cute brushing your teeth in my t-shirt?” You roll your eyes and lay your head down, the amber glow of his lamp illuminating the room.

“I mean it, though. I’d like to do this again.” His voice is almost boyish as he looks over at you from his side of the bed. You grin, nodding in agreement as your heavy eyelids make your blinks long and slow.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand, and turns down the brightness. As he unlocks his phone you see the background is a photo of his mom, his sister, and himself, on a beach somewhere. 

“They don’t live here…” you ask, but it’s not a question. You already know the answer.

“No.” he answers, his voice solemn. “They’re in Michigan.”

“You miss them.”

“Yeah, but I’ll see them soon. I think they’re gonna come down for a show. Just been too long this time. Gonna take my dad golfing, I think.” he says, opening his texts, and though you're trying not to look, you can’t help but notice that his inbox that you assumed would be full of unsaved numbers and girls names, isn’t. In fact there’s hardly any. 

He clicks on an unread message, laughing as he reads it. 

Jake

7:05pm: You still coming over later?

Jake

8:11pm: You prick how the fuck do you have plans, we aren’t even supposed to be here

Jake

9:17pm: Nevermind 😎

“How many friends did you ditch tonight?” you laugh. 

“Ehhhh, listen… Jake– He– I would have been stuck there until 3 in the morning if I went, I much prefer how my night turned out.” he giggles, sending back a skull emoji.

He opens the next thread and sighs, clearing his throat and rubbing his fist into his eye as he responds. 

Sista ✨

9:34pm: Happy Valentine’s Day, miss you! Love you & see you soon!

Danny

1:04am: Happy Valentine’s day, love you 💐

You feel your heart warm a little at the message, and you realize that maybe these girls that warned you, really didn’t know him like they thought they did. Sure he has a bit of an ego, maybe he’s a little cocky, but you kinda like it. He gives you a run for your money, and apart from the insanely hot sex earlier, he’s been a perfect gentleman. Kinda the best of both worlds if you think about it.

He locks his phone and tosses it on his nightstand, rolling over to his side and pulling you into his chest. You can smell the body wash you washed him with earlier still lingering on his skin, and as you breathe in the smell of him, and feel the warmth of his body against yours, he wraps his arms around you kissing your shoulder atop the deep red mark that his perfect teeth left. 

—

When the morning comes, you’re woken up by the natural light in Danny’s bedroom and a dull throbbing in your head. He’s rolled over, facing away from you as he sleeps peacefully on his clean, white sheets. 

Reaching for your phone, you suppress a groan at the soreness that radiates through your body. It's late morning and you have a few texts waiting for you already. The first is from your best friend, who you’re assuming went home with the guy she met. There’s an attachment and from the preview you see it’s a film strip, so you assume it’s a sneak preview of the photos she took of you at the show.

When you open the picture, you quickly realize you’re wrong. There are a few strips laid on the table, the first of which are a few provocative photos of her in a bralette and then wrapped in a scarf of some sort. The strip underneath has pictures of people you don’t recognize at first, but as you zoom in on the third frame, you see… Danny? Then, a text comes through asking if he was the guy you were hanging around with the night before.

Danny starts to stir in bed next to you, stretching and rolling over. He seems relieved when he lays eyes on you and sees you’re still there. You roll a little closer to him on your side, holding up the zoomed-in photo.

“Is this you?”

He lifts his head a little, craning his neck and squinting his eyes to get a better look. 

“Uh, yeah. Where’d you get that?” His voice is hoarse and sleepy, and you wonder if he’s feeling as rough as you are after the night you shared. You can’t help but smile as you look harder at the photo.

“I think my best friend spent the night with yours?” you say, pinching the screen and zooming out. There isn’t anything too lewd on the photos she sent you, but when he sees them, he puts the pieces together too.

“Oh, shit. How’d that happen?” He asks, putting his arm behind his head and laying back. You see the underside of his tattoo that wraps all the way around his bicep, your eyes drawn to the muscles you can see shifting under his skin.

“She was the photographer last night. In more ways than one, I guess.” you snicker, looking at the frames again. 

“If I would have known it was like that, I’d have taken some photos of my own…” he says, his morning voice making your stomach flip. He sees the way color rushes to your cheeks and he grins, rolling on top of you and sliding his hands up under the t-shirt you’re borrowing. You hum as he peppers your face with kisses, pulling the duvet over the two of you, in no rush to get your day started. 

Join The Taglist Here

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #daniel robert wagner #greta van fluff #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf #sam gvf #gvf danny #sam kiszka gvf #jacob kiszka #gretavangroupie #jacob thomas kiszka #Samuel kiszka #gretavanfluff #danny gvf #Daniel Wagner x reader #daniel wagner #dannygvf

[the-kr8tor]

What if R gift Blobie as a companion to Pirate! Hobie? (*/ω＼*) She rescued the lil guy/abomination from the water cause "poor cute thing can't swim just like her". It was a trick. Blobie came from water, he just wanna stay in R's sweet caring hands, except now he's stuck with her sassy pirate captain xDD They have love-hate relationship but unites when R is in danger/needs help with smth -🦊

Thank you for the lovely request, foxy!! Changed it up a bit, hope you don't mind 🫶

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, blob the symbiote cat AU, pirate AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Hobie, look!” You raise the gooey cat shaped thing in front of him. Its little paws (or that's what you think it is) wiggles in your grasp, milky white eyes all round and happy.

The captain looks from the map, the sun making him squint, searing heat melting him and the sand in his pants making him uncomfortable. Good thing you're here on the godforsaken island that the map has brought the entire ship to its beach or he'll definitely be crankier than he already is.

With the sun behind you, a white halo of light around you, bathing you in its heavenly glow; he leans closer to see better, which the creature did not like at all. The little entity yowls, almost scratching him.

“Fuck!” He shouts, jumping away. “What is that?!”

“Bad Blobie! We don't scratch the captain.” You flip the cat-like creature in your grasp, scolding it. Blob's eyes blink slowly, head tilting, trying to decipher what you said. “that,” you flip him again to face Hobie, “is the captain, you don't—” it mewls angrily. “—hey! Listen, you don't scratch or bite the captain or anyone. Got it?”

Blobie lays limp in your hands, surrendering. Hobie watched on with a confused look, scratching the back of his neck. He loves how you're so patient with the creature but he is eternally confused as to where or how you got it. Especially that you only left him on his own for only five minutes. (he counted)

“Love,” he sees you carry it like a newborn baby. “Should you even be holding that? I don't think its a cat”

“Of course it's a cat! Look at his ears,” his ears droop slightly, a black mass in Hobie's eyes. “his fluffy tail” it swishes to the side, and he swears he saw it change shape for a second. “his cute little eyes and he meows! So Blob is definitely a cat!” you smile happily at Hobie. He's not convinced.

“Where'd you find it?”

“Right near the shore, under some rocks. He looked like he needed help and when I took a closer look, he was stuck under it so I helped.”

“That was very kind of you, scuttlebutt, but we can't keep him.” Hobie opens the map again, counting his steps on the heated sand.

“But he'll die here!” You follow closely. “And you said the ship has rats so he can help kill them. Come on, Hobie!”

“Finn is doing just fine handling those rats.”

You scoff, “are you sure about that? He was all moody yesterday, even grumbling to himself. Please?” blocking his path, you give him your best smile that you know always gets the all powerful pirate.

Blob purrs, clinging to your shirt.

Hobie huffs, “we don't need another mouth to feed, love, ‘sides, Yuri is allergic.”

“Oh…” he almost caves in with the sad look you have on your pretty face.

Sighing, he reaches towards you, bringing you closer to him without losing his place on the sand. Pressing his face closer to your temple, he kisses you gently, trying to get the pout off your lips.

“Sorry,” kiss, “we just don't have the space just yet. After we find this treasure and buy the second ship, we can come back for him, yeah?”

“He might be dead by then.” You look at him forlornly, “I'll take good care of him, promise. I'll give him my rations.”

“And let you starve—?” The ‘cat’ leaps off your arms, running quickly into the thicket.

“Blob! Wait!” You run after it, leaving Hobie in the dust.

“Y/N! Damn It” Taking a stick, he plops in into the sand to save his last position before running after you.

Dodging branches and jumping over rocks, your sudden scream lights his nerves. Breathing heavily, blunderbuss at the ready, he follows the guttering sound.

Hobie finds you kneeling on the jungle floor, frantically heading towards you, he holds you by the shoulders, checking for injuries.

“What–are you alright?” You don't respond, still looking behind him. “Love!” He shakes you, holding your face tenderly. And with that you grin widely. Raising his eyebrows, he follows your line of sight.

Blob digs rapidly, too fast for a cat or even a dog. His movements are almost blurred, sand and dirt flying everywhere; Revealing thousands of gold doubloons and jewelry.

Blob shakes himself clean, sitting down in front of you, tail curling around his legs, licking himself clean.

“Do you want to keep him now?” You say with a smile, hand tapping his cheek. “Hobie?”

“I think I love this bloke.” He exclaims, eyes wide at the shining treasure.

“More than me?” You joke, embracing his middle.

“Maybe.” He teases back, kissing your cheeks like a man starved.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader #pirate au #pirate! hobie #pirate hobie brown x reader #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #blob the symbiote #cat symbiote #hobie fluff #fanfic #hobie x reader #🦊 anon

[dragons-hoard-of-fandoms]

(Murder Drones Episode 7 spoilers!)

THEY CHANGED THE INTRO V IS OFFICIALLY DEAD FUNERAL'S ON THURSDAY

Cult. It's a cult. This is definitely a cult. They probably don't even realize it but it is undeniably some kind of cult.

Nori what are you doing. Nori why are you like this.

The cross is a USB??

They're keeping the Drones themselves in the lockers??

Of course the unpaid intern whose opinion doesn't matter is the only one with any sympathy for them.

Pink Solver core?? SOLVER LIZZY?!?

Ah great, the Envy shippers are gonna be using this as "proof" that he's still in love with V.

HE IMMEDIATELY APOLOGIZED HE LOVES HER SO MUCH

Tessa. Stop. I was willing to give you the benefit of a doubt but you're not doing yourself any favours.

And now she's being racist. Way to go.

"The power of a black hole in the palm of my hand."

SEE TESSA ALL YOU DID WAS MAKE EVERYTHING WORSE

THEY'RE BACK THAD AND LIZZY ARE FINALLY RELEVANT AGAIN

Did they change Thad's VA? He sounds different.

Was that V? Is she already back?

N BABY NO DON'T SAY THAT YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS

Eldritch V??

I can't wait for people to meme about his perfectly cut scream there.

Not going near the corpse. Smart move.

Cyn stop. Cyn stop. CYN STOP PLEASE I'M BEGGING I WANT YOU TO BE SYMPATHETIC

She hugged him. That's probably a good thing, right? That's probably proof that the real Cyn is still in there somewhere, right? THAT PROBABLY MEANS SHE MISSES HIM AND IS GENUINELY SORRY RIGHT

Nothin' like a good old-fashioned Robot Uprising Apocalypse, eh? In other news, Skynet is suing the Solver for copyright infringement.

Those admin privileges comin' in handy. Unfortunately they don't do much in the physical world.

Uzi has absolutely no reason to be crawling and scuttling around like a creature right now except for the simple fact that she wants to. Never change, little gremlin.

Oh I don't think you should watch that. N was right, y'know, there's probably stuff down here you don't wanna see.

Why does this remind me of the garbage maze in FNaF Security Breach?

Okay so it's not some kind of disembodied Solver Lizzy core. Don't blame me, the lights looked pink before and the cat ears headphones reminded me of Lizzy's bow.

Familiar?? Nori??? DID N ACTUALLY KILL YOU AND WHY AREN'T YOU BRITISH/MOMMY LONG LEGS

Khan? A hunk? In the words of Professor Membrane, NOT SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE!!!

"How do you know my daughter?" "Well y'see, it all started when we tried to kill each other..."

Oh it was J. Is it bad to say I'm kind of relieved?

Are we getting the cool edgy Khan from the concept art??? Bro why are you so nonchalant about it being the end of the world.

INB4 people go frame-by-frame through the list looking for the most Russian-sounding name and say "THERE, THAT'S DOLL'S DAD"

Tessa was that really necessary? You're giving really bad vibes right now.

Patch? So the Solver can be removed? And she knows? Again, major bad vibes.

*FNaF 2 Foxy jumpscare*

I'm starting to suspect Yeva either can't or chooses not to talk.

Is she saying the Solver wiped her memory of the labs? I guess that would explain a few things.

N being so polite and cute as always.

What do you mean, "found its way back?" Where did it go? Is the timeline completely wrong? Did it start on Copper-9 then go to Earth then return to Copper-9? I'm so confused.

Nori why are you so casual about the prospect of your own daughter being a planet-eating eldritch abomination. This is exactly why I'm worried about the fandom giving you the Rose Quartz treatment.

I told you not to watch it, Uzi.

Welp, so much for Doll. Consider this karma for killing V. But "fight back?" Does that mean it can be resisted?

So now we know where Uzi gets it from.

Tessa no. Tessa stop. Tessa STOP. TESSA STOP YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO PRETEND TO HELP ANYMORE

YEAH N SAVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND

Whoa, didn't see that coming. No face reveal?? Does that mean she really is a Drone???

WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET THEM BE HAPPY

Imagine meeting your daughter for the first time and she's currently being possessed by an eldritch abomination masquerading as her boyfriend's dead sister.

Every time I think this episode's about to end on a cliffhanger it doesn't.

EVEN WHEN SHE'S BEING POSSESSED BY AN ELDRITCH ABOMINATION MASQUERADING AS HIS DEAD SISTER HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LET HER BE HURT AND IT WAS ENOUGH TO SNAP HER OUT OF IT FOR LIKE HALF A SECOND HOW COULD ANYBODY SAY THEY'RE NOT IN LOVE

Oh no, now people are gonna write fics about Nori being vored by her own daughter.

"Hang out" is code for "date." "Hang out" is code for "boyfriend and girlfriend." "Hang out" is code for "madly in love with each other." "HANG OUT" IS CODE FOR "WE MAKE SWEET AND PASSIONATE LOVE TOGETHER EVERY SINGLE NIGHT WE'RE ALREADY PLANNING THE WEDDING AND I'M GONNA WEAR THE DRESS AND WE'RE GONNA NAME OUR KIDS GLOCK AND BAYONET"

Literally smacked the sense back into her.

Imagine meeting your mom for the first time and you don't know who she is and she's a gross little fleshy crab-spider-thing similar to what your boyfriend's jerk boss turned into so you punt her into a bottomless pit and she makes a dodgeball noise.

LOOK AT HER REACTION SHE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT "HANG OUT" IS CODE FOR SHE JUST DIDN'T REALIZE HE THOUGHT OF IT THAT WAY TOO

My last two brain cells while watching this episode. Now would be a really good time for you two to kiss.

Oh good gosh she's not dead. Okay it wasn't at all necessary to put your head on backwards.

CYN IS HUMAN NOW??? OR IS SHE WEARING TESSA'S BODY LIKE ENNARD DID WITH MICHAEL

NO JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE ALREADY

Sorry J but you're still not plot relevant yet, you're not allowed to participate.

J: *sees the railgun* *has war flashbacks*

UZI YOU CAN'T SACRIFICE YOURSELF RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM AND TELL HIM TO "DIE MAD" AS YOUR LAST WORDS THAT IS LITERALLY NOT OKAY

*Uzi falls* *screen fades to white* *UNDERTALE*

The Void???

Glitch I beg of you please don't make us wait another half a year for the next episode. And Liam please don't let it end after one season.

#Murder Drones #Liam Vickers Animation #Glitch Productions #Murder Drones Episode 7 #Murder Drones Spoilers #Uzi Doorman #Serial Designation N #Nori Doorman #Absolute Solver #Murder Drones Cyn #Tessa Elliot #Murder Drones Doll #NUzi #Biscuitbites #Goldenbat #Posting this the day after 'cuz I hit the post limit yesterday #My drafts are clogged with SO much MD stuff right now #It's gonna be backed up for days #Straight From the Dragon's Mouth

[starfxkr]

what's on the girls vanities

pup - mostly skin/lip care and she saves all her money to buy one or two things at a time and she makes it stretch. she's the most freckly so she has hella sun block and after sun but she likes to emphasize them with the freak pen!!! her beach day perfume is normally eau de juice which smells like a fruit smoothie or the hawaiian tropic but the patchouli + plum mix of beyonces midnight hit is her signature. pulls out the lush for special occasions only. has lots of lip gloss because that's the only real makeup she wears but she throws in a lip liner and clear mascara too. her lotions are also fruity/beachy smelling but the patchouli drowns it out tbh.

bunny - if it's pink she's buyin it!!! this can be both standard kook!bunny and pogue!bunny tbh. all her perfumes are light and fruity floral because anything else gives rafe a raging headache. she frequently wears shimmery body oil to parties and loves to beat her face because figure 8 has air conditioning and she won't melt. lots of expensive lotions and creams that she makes rafe pay for because if he wants her pretty he's gotta fund it. is a vs bombshell warrior!!! but she loves soft & dreamy/strawberries & champagne lotion. dolce garden is her beach perfume because its fresh and coconutty, Prada candy florale/chanel chance eau tendre is def the shopping trip perfume, bombshell is pogue!bunny's signature and the miss Dior is for fancy events. she smells like what the other girls call a "sexy baby".

kitten - sticky fingers mcgee here has stolen almost everything here because save a lot rlly doesnt pay her shit. everything is just drugstore for the most part and her makeup is pretty simple. everyday is normally eyeliner + a real nasty sexy red lip and shes a love spell girl. her nails are pretty much always way too long and a burgundy/blood red. wears mostly unscented lotion or oatmeal lotion because this girl is a napper okay she sleeps 24 hrs and doesnt like being assaulted with scents while she sleeps. that's also why she steals the cat sleeping mask because her skin needs some nourishment while shes sleep. stays with cherry chapstick and whether her hair is down or in braids she's using this very expensive hair cream her mom got her as a surprise. everyday perfume is def ck 1 which she actually buys because its only $10-$20 when she gets it. loverdose however is her party perfume it smells like licorice and vanilla and gets her laid every time its like crack to jj.

foxy - she has the least amount of stuff because she wears classes and wants to keep it simple.she has lots of fun with her nails though she has a bunch of different colors and she does her own nail art because she doesn't grow them long. her lips are normally a nude/brown with a reddish brown liner because she has a really defined cupids bow and she likes to emphasize it. she loves a gloss though! does midtown blushes so reddish browns because they seamlessly match her skin tone. actually does eyeshadow but its simple which is why she uses a stick thats normally a rusty red and blends it down, looks stun with brown mascara because black is too much. proud mom perfume wearer!!!! green tea is her everyday for school because she puts it on and forgets about it and it blends well with her lotion. deep red smells amazing with her lotion and her mom gives it to her everytime she sees her so once every 4-6 months. that's her party perfume because that was also her moms party perfume. cashmere mist is what her grandma wore her entire life and she doesnt think it smells like old lady at all she wears it to sleep

#✨.txt #puppy!reader #bunny!reader #kitten!reader #fox!reader #visuals

[factual-fantasy]

25 ASKS!! THANKS U GUYS!! 🤶

@elegysonnet (In response to this post)

Ok so to explain Lolbit, you'll need a little background--

In my sister location AU I was thinking that William uses the circus as a front to go from town to town killing kids. He takes the remnant of his victims and puts them in the animatronics. This remnant is making the animatronics more "human". Its giving them the ability to feel things like love, hate.. and fear..

Another detail is my animatronics do not move their face plates to appear more life like. The face plates are there for easy access to the endo skeleton and for easy make up changes and replacement. While the animatronic is in use, the faceplates are clamped shut. They are never meant to open them and are not supposed to see each other with them open.

This then leads us to Funtime Foxy. He went into a parts and service tent he wasn't supposed to go in.. and on a table he saw a set of purple and orange Foxy faceplates. But having been programmed to never remove the faceplates and having the remnant in his system.. he just.. couldn't understand what he saw.

It was his face.. but.. also not him? It had no eyes, no teeth, its jaw sat at a bizarre angle. It was.. horrifying. The remnant is really messing with Foxy's head after seeing that. He cant understand what he saw and is basically having "nightmares" about it. Seeing himself in the mirror as this "other Foxy" with missing eyes and a black mouth. With black sludge dripping from his eye sockets..

So "Lolbit" doesn't.. really exist..? Its more like a nightmare concept that Foxy created in his own head. And he just doesn't have the means to understand what he saw.

Yendo has a very similar story..

Oh yeah.. I'm aware.😔 Remember folks, all reposted artwork is stolen. All.

(Also thank you! I'm glad you liked my FNAF stuff! :}} )

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD As for the fusion idea, I love those names!! :DD And I was leaning towards it being a separate AU of sorts. Since the ability to fuse would change A LOT about my characters stories and personalities--

XD And don't worry, that was a good read! Though I believe I had already planned an encounter with King Boo.? Well, "encounter", they never saw him face to face--

I couldn't find the original post talking about this, but if I remember correctly..

Mario and Luigi had found the mansion on one of their adventures and went inside. In which the boos locked the doors and turned out all the lanterns. The boos then proceeded to play tricks on the bros and got them separated. I think King Boo was watching the other boos from the shadows..?

Now Mario had gone into one of the rooms and there was a fire flower in a plant pot. Mario grabbed the flower and created a fireball in his hands so he could see. Immediately after that the entire mansion went completely silent. The Boos were all stunned. Someone absorbing a power up was so foreign, so terrifying... so.. so impossible, that all the boos were immediately terrified of them.

All the lights leading to the front doors lit up and the doors swung open. Mario and Luigi followed the lights, reunited and left the mansion. As soon as they stepped out, the doors and windows all slammed shut. Basically saying "DO NOT COME BACK IN HERE-"

Then the bros went home! Shaken, but safe and sound <XDD

(Referencing this post)

XDD Not exactly, my sona comes in all shapes and sizes. I just drew myself looking more human/"put together" in that post because I was resting on the couch XDD

Plus its only 1 drawing! I tend to put a lot more details into the characters I draw if I'm only drawing them once. :0

@2006-stupid-thatsme (Referencing this post)

Oooo I've never heard of empanadas until now! They look delicious!! :DD

(Referencing this post)

"What's a stomach ache??"

XD Ah don't worry about her! Lucky for Cici, her and the gang cannot get stomach aches. Mostly becuase I've dealt with them enough to know that they are the worst things ever! And I would never wish stomach aches upon even my worst enemy. :')💔

Sooo since I have full control over this universe, I have decided that there will never be any consequences to eating food! They can eat as much as they want, whenever they want, however they want, and they will never suffer any ill effects! No stomach aches, no gas, no uncomfortable fullness, no weight gain- no mess?? Once Cici is done chowing down on that cake the frosting will suddenly vanish from her face and hands. Cuz who likes to clean up after eating??

So don't worry bout her, anyone in the factual fam could eat that entire cake and come out absolutely thriving XDD

..Lucky aren't they.. :/

Yes! Though its only really a moustache-

I pictured that they're basically just straight up tentacles and there's a set number of how many can grown out of his head at once.

He can grab things with them too! And I imagined that they can fully grow back if cut off and the longest they can grow is down to Octo's knees. Once they get that long they kind'a stop growing.

Though Octo has never grown them out that long before <XDD

WAAAATHANK YOIUUUU SO MUSHCHCH!!!!! 💖💖😭💖😭😭💖

@tmelvinborg31

I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COULD BE SO LARG??

@minnesotamedic186 (Post in question)

These past few weeks/months(??) have not been my best

"The Jar".. how can a name be so haunting and creepy yet so funny at the same time? XD

Thank you, <:} I'm sure that I'll peek into the fandom every now and again.. becuase I cant escape my love for Octonauts. But I'm rethinking how I'll approach the fandom next time around-

<XD What can I say, I'm a wizard ✨✨ Though some parts have been spoiled but that's my own fault tbh.

As for why I haven't watched it, its just really hard for me to switch gears for some reason. All I gotta do is sit down, and watch the movie. But my brain just cannot seem to do that, it makes it seem like its this huge task/activity that will be a drag to go through. Its really hard to explain.. I guess I'd much rather just sit in my room an draw and not interrupt the usual flow/pattern of my day-

(In response to this post)

:DD Thank you so much!! And yeah Luigi could probably use a hug or at least a friendly pat on the shoulder <XDD 💔

@whereismycupofcoffee

XDD Not just when I wanna draw. This is my mood like 75% of the time-

For ME??? THANK YOU!! :))))) 💖💖💖

@blade-liger-4ever

Its all ups and downs, not quite sure where I am rn but it don't feel great so it must be a down :(

I don't know much about those characters or the relationship they have.. but Blue and Seafoam have been compared to them in the past. They must be really similar! :0

OH! <:DD Whelp I guess they're not saying there long!!- <XD

@whateverdraws1008

Tucked away deeeep within my brain goo. Its a rarity that I have the motivation to return to that fandom :( the characters are just so hard to draw! 💔💔

@beryl-shade

Ooooo this is so clever!! :D I can totally see this being apart of the actual games too!

YOO I LOVE SURFACE PRESSURE!! :DD I'll have to look into the other songs too! :00

@beryl-shade

I cant remember much of Chef Saltbaker.. he's from the Cuphead DLC right? I imagine he's giant to them, maybe they'd be afraid? DD:

(Related to this post) (I cant find the ask post- but this is in response to someone saying "what about Cici?" And I commented that the mic simply wasn't offered to her-)

Bibi picks up an absolutely miniscule Cici and she squeaks out a tiny;

" ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᶦˢʰ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ >:³ "

#my response #fnaf sister location #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #super mario bros #octonauts #factual fam #sorry for the late reply on the last one! <:D #also yooo 1900 post les goo

[fuckyeslilkim]

Lil Kim's Squat Pose Is Iconic. Its Photographer Discusses it for the First Time

In a rare interview, Michael Lavine discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

Even though Michael Lavine has photographed OutKast, Ghostface Killah, JAY-Z, Missy Elliott, Foxy Brown and many others, he didn’t start out capturing larger-than-life rap acts. Like multiple moments throughout his career, he just fell into the next phase of artistry, which was deifying a generation of Black storytellers.

Lavine’s interest in photography goes way back. He led his high school’s yearbook committee as the head photographer. Soon after, at Washington’s Evergreen State College, he studied traditional street photography in the style of Robert Frank and Garry Winogrand. While in Washington, he befriended the group responsible for the record label that became Sub Pop, and documented a then-emerging sound that, to this day, continues to inspire chart toppers. He wasn’t interested in being married to any particular genre or group though, because boxing yourself in isn’t the move. “I just never felt comfortable kind of being pigeonholed in anything to my own detriment. It's not good for business to do that,” he said. “You're supposed to kind of dive in, not pull away. But that's just how I was wired. I wanted to do my own thing.”

After fostering the trust of music industry greats (“I started working for Rick Rubin. He was one of my first clients and he hired me to shoot a bunch of his Death American acts because he was starting to do metal at that time,” Lavine recalled) and becoming a Black Book highlight, he fell into shooting some of the biggest rappers on the scene. His knowledge of capturing Black talent helped. “I was very good at skin color and doing warm skin tones and lighting people,” he said. “For some reason, I think there was this problem with white people who didn’t understand how to light Black people, which was just ridiculous.”

In short, he came, he saw, he snapped. Legacies were cemented in the process, most notably with an image of one of the greatest female rappers that has become one of hip-hop’s most beloved and recreated photos — Lil Kim’s iconic squat seen ‘round the world.

Below, the retired photographer gave Okayplayer a rare interview where, for the first time, he discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

This interview, which took place over multiple conversations, has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

When did you first meet Lil Kim?

The date was 7/30/96. The anniversary just passed.

What was your first impression of her?

My impression overall was she was not like she is, as in the present. She was very quiet and under the thumb of Big Un. Remember Big Un?

Are you talking about Lance “Un” Rivera?

Yeah. He was there. He was the man in charge of her and was kind of in control of the shoot. Kim didn't say a word. I don't think I spoke to her once about anything, but we had a nice rapport in front of the camera. She was great and we made a lot of pictures together, but I felt like there was this circus going on around us and it was just me and her. You get this intimate bond with your subject a lot of times. She's in her lingerie and rolling around on a bed. So, I was trying to be my normal, respectable self, and being professional and making the images with her in tandem.

I would direct her like, "Let's try this. How about coming over here? What if we lean this way?" There were a lot of sets. We had rented a brownstone in Manhattan probably. It was a couple floors. It might have been two floors. So there was a bedroom, a little balcony, a fireplace, and those big doors.

I interviewed Kim last year and she told me she just kind of dropped into the squat pose naturally.

It was very spontaneous. When you're doing photo shoots, at least when I was working, it was an organic process and you let things happen. It's like a creative flow. Whenever you have a creative director there holding out a [composition] like, "Here, do it like this," it just was always bad and kind of nothing. It was like the safest way to get whatever it is that they had in their minds. But to make a great photograph you have to let things happen. You just have to go with it.

There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural. Part of it, I spent a lot of time low angle, meaning I was always kind of lying on the floor, crouching down myself. So, it's possible that one of the reasons she did it was because I was probably sitting on the floor looking up at her because that's kind of how I do. My style was based on the hero, meaning my job was to make people look like heroes with iconic style.

My style was based on making people look cool and giving them lots of options. So, we would take a lot of different kinds of photographs. I used different kinds of lighting. We moved very quickly. A lot of things happened and it was very much an exciting experience. Somebody had a set prop person there bringing flowers. For the cover shot, we had all those flowers in front of the fire, and the bear skin rug we brought that in. It was a normal hip-hop shoot. I was intimidated. It was a very hard day. Everybody was being kind of tough and intimidating, and nobody would talk to me.

Were you scared?

I was never scared, but they all had guns. It's not that I was scared..scared is not the right word. It's more like I felt kind of out of place a little bit. I didn't even speak with Kim. I was dealing with Un mostly, and Un had a lot of ideas. So we were trying to do all the things. I was getting coverage for him. He wanted to have her hold the honey bear. Remember, there's a shot of her holding a honey bear on the black satin sheets? We had a lot of props. I had a props guy. His name was Jerry Schwartz. He was very good and we had brought a bunch of stuff.

So, for example, I remember Puffy came in for a shot and I did one shot with Puffy and Kim together. And Puffy, I worked with him many times. He didn't even say hello to me.

I was just like, “Really? Do you have to be that way? You're so cool you don't want to embarrass yourself talking to the photographer, actually acknowledging him?”

I never really felt at home around Puffy. I think at that time, because I don't think he's like this anymore, but at that time he was — and I know this happened to several other people that I've witnessed throughout their careers — they're really striving. It's very hard at the beginning and they'll push, push, push. They're just about their thing and they don't care about you. So, he was yelling at everybody all the time.

On set that day?

Not that day. Other days.

Oh, just in general?

Just in general. Barking orders. But that day he came in briefly and we did the shot and then he left. There's one shot, I don't know if you've seen it, of them together on a wall. I don't even know why he was there. I can't remember. He had something to do with the record, I guess.

"There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural," Lavine said of the image.

The image came out as the poster, “Lil Kim Coming Soon.” When you're there that day, you have no idea what images are going to stand out. Zero. There's just no way anyone could know. It isn't until there's time to contemplate the session when you edit it and you start to live with the images. And the graphic designer who, I can't remember who it was. Maybe you can find that out.

Maybe.

Let's see if there's a name on here. I don't know. Big Beat records? I don't know who that would've been. Atlantic maybe? I think it was Atlantic Records, no?

Lil Kim was [signed to] Atlantic.

It was Atlantic? Maybe it was, I don't know who it was. Liz Barrett? There were a bunch of people in the Atlantic art department at the time. I could probably look at the invoice.

Do you still have the invoice?

I don't know. Let's see if I do. '96...

If you do, you're the best records keeper of all time.

Yeah, there's Kim and Puffy right there. I have the whole job here. Ed and Carl were my assistants. The location was 24 West 10th Street. That's where we shot it. Here's something for you. Ready for this?

Yes.

So, these are notes from my conversation with the manager. "Little Kim. Female. She's the other woman, somersaults in bedroom, not raunchy. Doorway of bedroom, satin sheets. Blouse, undone. Honey in hair, on bed and on phone. Down pants. Unbuttoning pants. No whips and chains. Classy, sexy, lush, lustful. Candles in the background. Fruits and chocolates." There you go.

The notes Lavine was given prior to the Lil Kim shoot.

So, those were the notes that you were given before the shoot?

Yep. Those were the notes I was given before the shoot.

"Not raunchy" really stands out because I think you conveyed that.

"Not raunchy" — peekaboo, sexy shit.

Oh, man. Well, you did it. You accomplished the goal. And that actually flows really well into my next question, which was what do you believe they were trying to convey with the shoot?

It was funny that they hired me because I was known for not exploiting women in my photos. That was one of the reasons I didn't ever shoot women because back in the day, you were expected to shoot women with clothes off. I refused to do that and I never did it. I think this crouching picture was the raunchiest picture that I had ever done. Actually, that's not true. I did one once. But it was not my normal style, shall I say.

But also, it's an empowering image. I just generally felt uncomfortable sexualizing women throughout my career. That shoot was uncomfortable for me because I had to do that, and I think she was a little unclear as to what she was doing herself. I have no idea. I didn't talk to her. I'm not sure what she was thinking. Years later, I talked to her because we were both well complaining about this image being bootlegged.

She did mention that during our interview. That people were making t-shirts and making their own memorabilia.

It's completely illegal what they're doing, and it's got to be the most bootlegged image of mine. It's like whack-a-mole, you can't stop them. You send out your lawyers and then they just shut down and open with a different name. I could probably go out, spend some time and sue them all and she could, too. Who has time for that? If you have a lawyer and you have a lot of money, you could do that.

That sounds like a lot.

I mean, it's unfortunate. But she was talking about trying to do some merch of her own. The smart thing to do would be to get a deal with Merch Traffic or somebody that does merch, and then they would take care of trying to squash the illegal competition. But I thought that she was going to maybe have that happen this year, but I haven't heard from her.

But the image is just getting more and more famous. It's funny, you never know what kind of resonance an image is going to make and impress upon the culture at the time when you make it. It's rare that there's an instant classic. It's very hard to have that kind of impact these days just because of the nature of social media. Back then, there was a poster and that poster was the only poster. There was no other place to see it but the poster.

Now, it's everywhere.

That image really stands the test of time. Very few images stand the test of time like that image that I've worked on. It's one of my more recognizable images and I have a lot of them.

You do.

So, what can I say? It was a perfectly nice day. She was lovely. We had a nice rapport. The pictures came out great. I continued to work for many years after, and I'm retired now.

What made you jump into hip-hop photography?

Well, that's a funny question because I think my whole life, until recently, has been me falling into things that I wasn't planning on. I was driven to do photography so I was on that path. But if you would've told me my senior year, my fifth year of college, I was going to be shooting rock bands for a living for the rest of my life, I would've said, "Really?" I would've had no idea. But that fifth year [of college] I got a job to shoot a rock band and it just turned into —

The rest of your life?

It turned into the rest of my life. I never said, "I'm going to be a rock photographer." I never said that until I was one. Then, I had no plans on shooting hip-hop. It was an up-and-coming market at the time. I didn't know anything about it. I was friends with Kurt Cobain hanging out at rock shows, and really was unaware of a lot of hip-hop.

I did some hip-hop jobs early. I shot De La Soul, who I loved. I shot a few bands and hip-hop acts that were popular around that time. I got to know a lot of people in the business over time because I worked in it for so long. I was really close with Groovy Lou, who I loved as a stylist. June Ambrose. A lot of people.

But this was a defining moment. That shot, that poster when it came out, it made a lasting impact. It's still gaining speed. At that time, nobody knew who she was.

Did you know who she was?

I might've heard her name but not really. I just got hired on jobs. That's how I learned about people. I listened to the record before anybody else heard it. I got it first. But a lot of people were that way — I would learn about them on the job. That's how you learn because if I'm shooting 100 jobs a year, I don't have time to do anything but the job that's in front of me.

Did you listen to the album before the shoot?

Oh, I'm sure, of course. I don't remember the exact moment I listened to it but I always did. But that was part of the job, and we listened to it all day long during the shoot because that's what we did.

When did you realize that photo was really making waves?

Well, I think it happened over time. Obviously, the poster immediately was like, “OK, that's intense.”

Was it everywhere? Was it all over town?

It was everywhere. And when the poster came out it was powerful. It was a dramatic statement and it sent shock waves immediately. It was clearly influential at the time, I will say that. It was shocking and effective. It put her on the map.

Do you think it put her on the map more so than the cover?

Oh, yeah. The cover, who knows what the cover looks like? Nobody does.

#lil kim #lil' kim #rap #queen of rap #rapper #hip hop #queen bee #female rapper #female rap #hiphop #fashion #90s #squat

[genuine-wrestleboy]

the attraction (1/2)

words: 5,031

(here on ao3)

It isn’t that you’re easy to scare, no matter what your friends say. So maybe heights make you nervous, and blood, and the concept of eternity, but none of that has ever stopped you. On the contrary, you like it. Love it, even—the adrenaline, the thrill, that tingle down your spine. Haunted hayrides and rollercoasters and horror films, anything that strips away the thin veneer of safety for long enough to get your heart really pumping. That’s why you’d accepted the invitation tonight, even though you don’t know the first thing about Freddy Fazbear’s, or the rumors your friends excitedly discuss on the drive over.

“Wait, there were, like, real, actual murders here?" you ask, peering out the windshield at the grungy-looking building. It's smaller than you'd expected, the neon sign above the doors flickering weakly.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” your friend tells you with gruesome excitement.

You frown a little. “That seems kind of tone deaf, doesn’t it?”

Another friend rolls their eyes. “There weren’t any real murders, it’s–ugh  what's the word? Urban legend. Creepypasta shit.”

The final member of your group cuts the ignition. “If we see a photonegative Foxy I will fully shit my pants, just warning you guys now.”

Your friends laugh, and you turn back to the old pizzeria, something warm and familiar kindling in your chest. Anxious anticipation; the first sparks of fear.

It's a predictable pace from there. You made sure to get here as close to opening as you could, so the line's not too bad, but the tickets are steep.

"This better be terrifying," your friend groans.

"I better be able to fuck Freddy Fazbear himself," agrees another.

"Yeah? Is that gonna be before or after you shit yourself?"

A shrug. "Depends on what Freddy's into."

"Guys, the line's moving." You love your friends, but if you have to listen to another second of this there are going to be very real murders here tonight.

"Ooh, nice, you wanna go first or last?"

You give this question the consideration it deserves. Which kind of scared do you want to be? Do you want to face the horrors ahead and force yourself to push through them? Or do you want the eerie unknown of endless possibility at your open back? Either way is bound to get a scream out of you, which you know is mostly why your friends offer you the choice.

"Last, I think."

"Alright! Get thee behind me, scaredy!"

"Harr harr," you reply dryly.

Single file and giggling, you friends put their hands on one another’s shoulders and shuffle through the blacked-out doors. You follow suit, but the friend in front of you slaps your hand off their shoulder like a bug.

“You know you grab too hard,” they whisper harshly.

“Right, sorry.” You knot your hands into the front of your shirt instead.

It’s a bit like losing a sneeze, at first—tension building and building and then fizzling out into one long, empty corridor after another. Dim, streaky fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting strange shadows in the corners, but there’s not much else for them to work with besides the creepy crayon drawings tacked to the walls. 

Then, slowly, other things start to appear: the rusted skeleton of an animatronic, strung together with wire like the bones of a museum dinosaur; a dark-stained purple vest and bowtie behind a pane of glass alongside a picture of a waving yellow rabbit suit; a skillful reproduction of a red animatronic head with a loose, toothy jaw that your friend tries to stick their hand into.

Somewhere near the shadowed ceiling, a speaker crackles to life. 

“Please don’t touch the displays,” says a muffled, tired-sounding voice.

“Boo,” hisses your friend, retracting their hand. “It’s not like there’s anything else to do. This place is fucking boring.”

The rest of your friends mutter in irritated agreement. You pinch your mouth shut before you can say something you’ll regret. This hasn’t been what you’d expected, sure, and you’re not exactly scared, but you’re definitely interested. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t know anything about Fazbear’s before coming here, but you think if they just pivoted a little and turned up the lights this place could be really cool, part horror and part history.

Or they could've hired some actors or something, you suppose, but that's neither here nor there at this point. 

The next hallway is entirely wallpapered with vintage advertisements and framed posters, faded photographs and glossy magazine pages and a huge full-blown painting of a goofy-looking bear with a top hat and gentle eyes.

"Mr. Fredbear, I presume." As you lean in to squint at it more closely, you notice a newspaper article pasted on the wall next to it, photocopied and blown up in size to make the letters legible even in this near-dark. 

Kids Vanish At Local Pizzeria—Bodies Not Found

Ah, the creepypasta bullshit. Your eyes briefly scan the body of the article. There’s a surprising amount of detail, considering, you suspect, that not many people are expected to read it. A couple steps further along the wall, you spot another article, and you hold your phone up to it for a little extra reading light. You pause for a moment, in case the voice on the speaker has an objection, but if he does it’s apparently not big enough for him to mention it.

Five Children Now Reported Missing. Suspect Convicted.

“...where a man dressed as a company mascot lured them into a back room, eugh.” If they’re giving you backstory now, maybe this is where it starts to gear up, where the story comes in and the scares really start.

“Hey, guys, check this out.” They’ll like this, you think, gesturing them over. You hope so, anyway.  “Guys?”

You look up to another long, empty corridor, and your heart drops into your stomach. Your friends are gone.

Shit, they’re going to be so annoyed if you get yourself left behind. 

You abandon the articles reluctantly and follow the only path until you hit a bend in the hallway. To the left, there's a glass window, and then what looks from here like a dead end. To the right there’s a makeshift plywood door marked Cast Only, but the sign is in rough shape, and the door itself is hanging slightly ajar, like someone has just gone in. 

Feeling a little dumb, you reach out and try a tentative knock. At least if it is actually an employee-only area there might be someone who can help point you in the direction of your friends.

From behind the door comes the sound of movement—heavy, halting footsteps, the beginnings of a cry. Then a sort of wet cracking sound, echoing silence. A thrill goes through you, and you feel suddenly perfectly clear, excitement honing you like a blade. That's terrifying. As you push open the door, you wonder if they only replay the track when someone is close enough to hear it or whether it's on a loop, whether you'd hear it all again if you stayed put and waited long enough.

You pass through into a cold, dank room that reeks of mildew. The only light comes from an abandoned industrial flashlight on the floor, the bright arc of its cracked bulb swaying ever so slightly side to side, as if it's only just been dropped. It makes the room into a funhouse mirror of itself, shadows stretching off in every direction like hungry searching fingers. It also makes it impossible to tell how big the room actually is, the opposite walls lost to darkness.

Fortunately, you’re no amateur, and you know the best way out of a labyrinth. The wall is distressingly sticky under your hand, but you keep your fingertips pressed steadily against it as you make your way forward. The humid air of the room is like wearing a damp sheet over your head, and your skin tingles with gooseflesh beneath it. Everything feels muffled, your own racing heartbeat the only thing your straining senses can detect. 

The flashlight on the floor wobbles one more time and comes to a rest.

Your next step nearly takes your feet out from under you. Your shoe slips on the floor, the surface suddenly slick, and you barely manage to catch yourself on the wall before you go down. You let out a little involuntary yelp of surprise; it sounds like a gunshot in the otherwise silent space. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you stare out into the darkness, still as a startled rabbit. Nothing stirs, but you could swear you feel the weight of someone else’s gaze.

You pause, scarcely breathing, to give your eyes time to adjust, and slowly the floor separates into grimy checked tile and a spreading pool of thick, dark liquid. A little further down, you can just make out the limp shape of a figure slumped in the corner. Curiosity draws you closer, and you pick your way carefully around the blood, leaving shoe-shaped smears around the edge as you go. That has to be a safety hazard, right? It’s amazing that no one has fallen and gotten hurt yet—or sued Fazbear’s Fright, more likely. Maybe they have really good lawyers.

The figure in the corner seems to be a young man, blonde and ponytailed, wearing what looks like a security guard’s uniform. You brace yourself for a jumpscare as you approach.

 Then you see the angle his neck is at. His back is propped against the wall, but his flat, lifeless eyes stare straight up at the ceiling, mouth hanging slack. There’s a faint trace of blood on his teeth, and a great deal more where a considerable section of his shoulder has been torn away completely. It’s an incredible piece of work, but—honestly it’s edging on a little too realistic. A deep, nauseous discomfort settles thick in the back of your throat, and you step backwards, away from the wall and the corpse, and straight into something else.

You turn, hands raised, and look up and up into the grim, grinning face of an animatronic rabbit.

"Hello!" Adrenaline spikes through you, the one-two punch of terror and delight. It’s always made you a little prone to blurting. 

The rabbit stills, one broken ear flopping as the sculpted head tilts slowly to the side. You do your best not to touch the actor as you duck around him and flee in the opposite direction, away from the door you entered through. 

After a moment, you hear him follow, the same slow, metallic footfalls that had enticed you in here to begin with. You feel yourself grin so hard that it hurts; this place is fucking good. 

The beam of the flashlight clings by its nails to a bank of bulky steel lockers near the center of the room, and it’s these that you aim for. They give off a bluish light of their own, maybe not lockers, after all, but some sort of machinery with faintly glowing panels on their pitted faces. You follow the line of them until there’s enough room to go around, and though there are glowing panels on this side, too, the light from the flashlight is all but blocked. You have about two feet of dimly-illuminated floor before the room descends again into utter blackness. Behind you, the hiss and click of struggling hydraulics tells you that the actor in the animatronic suit is closing in fast.

Okay, deep breath. What’s your next move? Fight and flight tangle in your chest, knotting themselves together as effectively as a noose.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run."

You freeze. Horror slithers down your spine and coils cold in the pit of your stomach. How can he do that with his voice? It sounds…shredded, like the throat that produced it barely remembers what it is. Your own throat activates automatically in sympathy.

But he’s singing. You can’t tell what direction it’s coming from, but you can tell that it’s getting closer.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.”

Two knocks, trailed playfully along the barrier behind you. Then one deafening bang. You jump, the spell broken, all but throwing yourself into motion.

A mitted hand snaps shut around your wrist and yanks you back. Before you can even process what's happening, your back hits metal with enough force to knock the breath clean from your lungs. The rabbit animatronic leers down at you, both long arms caging you solidly in place. Washed in blue, the finer details of his face are lost, but you recognize enough to connect him to the drawings on so many of the posters in the lobby.

“Hello,” says the Springtrap. The smell that rolls out of his mask when he speaks is a bit of a demented touch.

"Oh wow," you breathe. “I didn’t know you guys were allowed to touch us.”

Springtrap makes a gravelly, gargling sound that you realize belatedly is laughter. He leans in, leans down, looming ghoulishly as he stares you down with unblinking interest. His eyes reflect the cold blue light like polished silver, half-hidden by the suit’s heavy lids. You meet his gaze and feel suddenly strangely exposed, like you might as well be standing here in nothing but your socks. Your heart races in your chest, and, humiliatingly, another, lower part of you starts to respond, too.

Lifting one huge paw, the actor in the Springtrap suit runs the pad of his thumb down the side of your neck, and a gasp drops from your lips. The texture of his fur is like greasy velvet rubbed the wrong way, waxy and matted, and you feel the bite of metal as he hooks the digit into your shirt collar and drags it aside. Your skin tingles in the wake of his ungentle touch.

“Can you feel that?" The question bursts out of you like nervous laughter. “I mean, those gloves, do you, are they easy to use? I’m not—I don’t want to seem like one of those assholes who think they’re too good to be scared, I’m honestly terrified, you’re just—” don’t say hot, don’t say hot “—gorgeous.”

Oh god, that is so much worse.

“Gorgeous,” he repeats, and you could swear he sounds amused.

A blush tears its way across your face. “Wait, no, I meant—I mean, I did mean it, I just, mostly I meant that whoever made that suit must be, like, incredible, it looks amazing, I—I am so sorry, I babble when I’m scared. Usually not this much though."

You hear that broken laughter again, and Springtrap reaches and spreads the broad length of his hand along your windpipe. He doesn't press down, but he doesn't have to; one sharp fingertip traces the underside of your jaw, and your breath stutters and catches hard.

"And what if I told you," he says, "that I made this suit?" There’s a grin in there somewhere—you can hear it, even if you can’t see it. There’s also, you think, the hint of an accent, something round hidden in the harsh rasp of his consonants.

"Did you?" you ask dumbly. 

"I did," he confirms. 

"Well you totally killed it. It’s—it must’ve been a real labor of love." Jesus, what has your life come to? You're making first-date small-talk with a haunt actor who has his hand around your throat and you're barely resisting the urge to grind against the seam of your jeans.

"It was." His grip tightens, and you do your best not to go completely boneless against him. You can hear how breathless you are when you speak, but it feels sort of fuzzy and far away.

"It's cool that you get to wear it, too, then. Instead of just, like, watching someone else do it."

Springtrap stills. "That I get to wear it," he says. His voice rests on a precarious note between wistful and annoyed.

 A beat of silence, snapping-tense. He stares at you, thoughtful in a way that doesn’t feel like he’s contemplating your words so much as he’s contemplating you. When he turns your face towards the wall, you let him, swallowing hard against his palm. Hot, foul air stirs your hair as he nuzzles along the juncture of your jaw, your pulse fluttering madly at his fingertips.

“Funny, frightened thing." There's something almost wondering in his voice, almost soft. "What am I to do with you?”

You honest-to-god whimper at that, a thoroughly telling sound you don't quite manage to stifle. 

Springtrap chuckles, rumbling and low. “You seem like you have ideas.”

This might be the most embarrassed you have ever been in your life. Unfortunately, the same could probably be said for how turned on you are.

“Are they, uh, bad ideas?” you ask.

A single trailing finger scrapes itself down your throat, your chest, and the topmost button on your shirt pops free and clatters away. 

“There's a very good way to find out.”

The thing is, you don’t need him to tell you that it's a bad idea, it is an objectively bad idea. He’s a stranger, and you’re in public, and there are—oh god, oh no no. The voice on the speakers, don’t touch the displays, and it’s not that you think Springtrap counts as a display, per se, but.

“Don't they—aren’t there cameras?”

Something about the question seems to strike him as funny. He tilts his head, and you can see the flash of a leer behind his teeth. Another button snaps off with a snk.

“Not in here.”

"Oh," you say.

"Oh," he confirms smugly. 

With a flourish, Springtrap claims a third button, putting your shirt officially past the point of damage that is going to require explaining to your friends later. That, and the red, raised line bisecting your chest, a stinging arrow that leads directly to where his finger pauses with intent between your tits. A low rumble rattles through his chest, the shredded suit honing the harmonics into something snarling and inhuman.

God, you are so fucking wet.

"Fuck," you breathe. You catch yourself pushing your chest forward, tempting his touch like some horny, preening bird. His hand returns to your throat, steady, merciless pressure until your vision starts to soften at the edges.

"Language," teases Springtrap idly. 

"Yes, sir,” you laugh wheezily. You can't help it; maybe it's the oxygen deprivation.

The sound melts on your tongue as he takes your breast in one huge paw, kneading the sensitive flesh experimentally. Heat thrums between your legs, and he hums, pleased, at the needy little noises it draws out of you instead. Despite the hand on your throat, he touches you with this strange, unexpected tenderness, like he hasn’t touched anyone else in a long time. Hesitant. Hungry.

“How refreshing to find someone who knows their place,” he murmurs softly, and, god, that does something terrible to you. You gasp as his thumb brushes roughly over your nipple, once and then again, panting into the stale air as you cant your hips unthinkingly in his direction. He chuckles, rubbing soothing circles against your rabbiting pulse point. “As I thought. You’re just a slut, aren’t you?”

“Hn–!” It hits you like a shock, white heat touching every nerve in your body. Your pussy aches for attention, throbbing and slick and so sensitive you’re pretty sure you could come with a single touch.

“Hm?” prompts Springtrap blithely.

You swallow a moan. “Yes, sir.”

"Good," he says approvingly. His voice is rough as he leans in, "And good little sluts who know their place deserve a reward, wouldn't you agree?"

"Holy shit." If you were any more coherent you'd shove his hand down your pants yourself. "Yes, please, yes, yes, sir."

Mercifully, whatever playful objections Springtrap might have to your language this time don't stop him from obliging. He makes quick work of the rest of your shirt, the remaining buttons sliced apart like butter. The skin beneath them feels burning hot.

This is such a bad idea, what are you doing, are you insane? Are you stupid? Springtrap dips a teasing touch low along your stomach, and you have your jeans undone and around your thighs before your brain even has time to process the thought. He laughs, hooking a claw under the waistband of your panties.

“Greedy,” he says fondly.

“God,” you gasp. Your face flushes with heat, but it’s impossible to distinguish from the heat taking you apart everywhere else.

Springtrap growls and tears your panties open with an effortless twist of his wrist. “Close enough.”

The first hint of pressure on your clit almost makes you howl. You bite down on the heel of your hand, your head hitting the metal behind you with a hollow thunk. Springtrap rubs you in slow, steady circles, watching you raptly with his bright, pale eyes. Pleasure builds fast—you’re already so worked up, it won’t take much to send you over the edge at this rate. His finger eases back towards your eager hole, and you buck your hips forward, a cry falling from your helpless lips.

He presses his fingertip to your entrance. "That's right," he coos sweetly, "Show me how badly you want it."

You know some of those fingers are sharp, you have plenty of evidence on your skin to attest to that fact. It should matter more, probably, but then again a lot of things should probably matter more to you than they do. Right now all you can bring yourself to care about is the slow, ready stretch as you lower yourself onto him, glorious fullness that feels like you've been waiting for it your entire life.

Springtrap allows the movement, following without ever fully removing his grip from your throat. Between his hands, your breath tears into desperate shreds, tight, shallow inhales that leave you dizzy and loose. You roll your hips, pleasure bleeding lazily through you, and it's so good you could sob.

"What a shameless display." His voice wants to be light, but there's a red thread of hunger in it that he can't quite hide. "You'd let anyone have you like this, wouldn't you?"

You keen high in your throat and shake your head, too overwhelmed to form proper words.

"No?" he asks. His thumb grazes your clit, and your whole body jerks at the wave of heat that rolls through you. "You expect me to believe that, with how easily you spread your legs for me?"

You think, giddily, that you might never spread your legs for anybody else again. Springtrap hooks his finger, pressing against a spot that makes you see stars. A moan rises and spills, liquid and sweet, from your tongue, and honestly there’s a chance that you’re maybe also drooling a little, too. He laughs, curves himself to speak directly into your ear.

“Or, let me guess,” he says conversationally, “—is it because I’m gorgeous?”

He punctuates the final word by thrusting another finger into your pussy, and you cling to his arm reflexively as your trembling legs threaten to give out beneath you.

“Ohhh, god, yes.” You’re wet enough that the pain is only an echo, pleasure the screaming constant. He feels huge inside you, like something you’ll never properly recover from, something you’ll need forever. He ghosts brief bursts of pressure against your clit, knowing and cruel, his breath ragged as you fuck yourself raw on his fingers.

“Needy thing, I can feel how close you are, shall I let you come?”

“Please,” you gasp, “please, yes, please let me come.” Everything is swimmy and tingly and sweet, your world reduced to the tight coil of heat in your core and the places where Springtrap touches you.

Sharp fingertips dig into your neck. “Watch your manners, slut.”

Fuck. “Yes, sir, please, sir.” You feel like a match just struck, stuck suspended in the moment before consuming ignition.

Springtrap growls, angling his wrist to slam a thrust home to meet your desperately rocking hips. “Good. You’re so good for me.”

Anything, you think senselessly, you could do anything if it meant he’d tell you that you’re good, and you would, you want to, you—

“Go ahead, come for me, darling,” he hisses, and you clamp your thighs shut around his hand and obey.

Climax consumes you, blissful combustion at last, wrings a hoarse shout from your abused throat and whites out every other sensation in its blazing wake. Springtrap waits patiently as you ride it through, his touch gentling, leaving a litany of little nonsense niceties against your skin as your senses return to you. His fingers slip out of you, soreness already blooming. But bright, giddy joy seeps in to fill your chest, and you laugh, feeling it reverberate against his palm.

“Would it be weird if I asked to give you my number?”

He pets your hip idly, chuckling warmly into the crook of your shoulder, and for a moment you think maybe you’re on the verge of the world’s best and most inexplicable meetcute.

Then you hear the door on the other side of the room creak open. Reality takes you by the shoulders and shakes, and you’d jump back if you had anywhere to go. Springtrap stills, head tilted, listening with an obvious tense recognition. A voice—familiar, the same voice from the speaker, muffled and tired, only now it’s obvious that he’s in the room, and he’s—

He’s calling your name.

“Are you in here?”

You look to Springtrap but he’s just…gone. Without so much as a goodbye, all six foot huge of him, silent as a ghost into the darkness. All the warmth in your body floods away–and you get it, sort of, at least you try to, but mostly now you’re left standing here feeling stupid and—oh fuck. You scramble to get yourself sorted, yanking up your jeans over a cold, uncomfortable wetness and clutching the ruined edges of your shirt together. You turn just in time to see the edges of a light bob across the floor.

“Shit. Shit." He calls your name again, this time noticeably more frantic.

"I'm here!" Your voice is a dry rasp; you clear your throat, not without pain, and try again. "Hi! Here!"

A figure rounds the corner wearing what you recognize now as a security uniform. His hat is pulled low over his forehead, and whatever it doesn’t obscure is covered by one of those paper surgical masks. His light cuts across you; you lift a hand to shield your eyes. He pauses, then seems to start, freeze a little. Then he rushes over to you, pushing his hat back and bending to examine you, half reaching out as he does.

“Please tell me you’re alright.”

“What?” you ask. “I—yeah, of course, I’m fine, I—” You’re probably a little scratched up, but most of that is at least still partially hidden by your disheveled clothes. You look down at yourself, the mess now illuminated by the guard’s cold white light.

You’re covered in blood. Smeared low on your stomach, on your hip, poking suspiciously out from under your shirt. Your hands are tacky with it, too, leaving a trail of smudges everywhere you’ve touched yourself. You pointedly do not check the flies of your jeans.

“Oh, it’s fine! It’s not real,” you tell him awkwardly.

The guard has been made up for the house, and he’s wearing these incredible contacts, black scleras that turn his pupils bright white. They dart over your face with something that feels terribly akin to pity.

“You saw him?” he asks. This close, his voice sounds as rough as yours.

“Him?” you parrot dumbly.

“Shit,” says the guard, glancing away. “Never mind. I, uh, need you to come with me, okay? It’s not—your friends were looking for you.”

“They were?” you ask. You feel sort of stunned, swarming inside like a hive of angry bees, too full of buzzing emotions to hear any one more clearly over the others.

The guard waves a hand in front of your eyes. It’s skeletally bony and painted in bruisey purples, presumably to match whatever they’re doing with the rest of his costume.

 “I think you might be going into shock. Can I touch you?”

You nod. He takes your arm gingerly, and you sort of sag against him, your own weight suddenly a lot to ask yourself to handle. Together, you pick your way back across the dark room—he brings you the opposite way, avoiding his mannequin counterpart—and into the building proper, where he lets you lean against the wall in the dim hallway. It feels cool out here, making you very aware of everywhere that you’ve sweated through your clothes.

“Wait here,” says the guard. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get you something.”

Something? you wonder, but he’s back almost as soon he goes, tossing you a bundle of fabric. You shake it out curiously. It’s a sweatshirt, faded purple and soft with age, the remnants of white lettering arcing across the front: H-U-R-R-I-C-A-N-E. 

“Thought you might need it more than I do,” the guard tells you. He has a faint accent, you realize, just like.

Just like Springtrap. What’s going on here?

“You don’t care if I get it dirty?” You lift your bloody hands illustratively.

“It’s seen worse,” the guard assures you. Little crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. You wonder if they’re grey under those contacts.

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.” You pull the sweatshirt over your head, immediately relieved to have none of your undergarments a sneeze away from being on display.

The guard shrugs, sweeping his flashlight across the hallway like he’s looking for something. “Least I could do. Do you feel like you can walk?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m—” you flash a thumbs-up. “I’m golden.”

That makes the guard laugh, a hard, cold snort of mirth. He gives you another long look, familiar in its surveying weight. Then he lifts his hand slowly, taps a bandaged finger against a coppery nameplate on his uniform shirt.

“Hi, golden, I’m Mike.”

#springtrap #springtrap x reader #my fic #THERE'S CHOKING IN THIS TOO THAT TAG IS EDITED ON AO3 BUT HEADS UP #william afton #william afton x reader

[pennyroks77]

made this a while ago and forgor abt it...

fnaf animatronic maker!

please rb if you use! I'd love to see y'all's results :D

(long post warning)

fav (human) character - animal

Crying Child - cat

Elizabeth Afton - hamster

Micheal Afton - spider

William Afton - bunny (ofc)

Vanessa Shelly - mouse

Mike Schmidt - dog

Abby Schmidt - raccoon

Henry Emily - panda

Charlie Emily - penguin

Gregory - tiger

Cassie (sb) - pig

other - gecko

fav fansong - style

FNaF (TLT) - original/blumhouse

Join the Party (JT Music) - toy

Die in a Fire (TLT) - withered

Afton Family (KryFuZe) - fredbear's family diner

Below the Surface (Griffinilla) - funtime

Stay Calm (Griffinilla) - rockstar

It's Been so Long (TLT) - nightmare

Never be Alone (Shadrow) - Balloon Boy/circus

I Can't Fix You (TLT, Crusher-P) - puppet

Stuck Inside (Black Gryph0n) - bonbon/bonnet

Run Run (CK9C) - freddy and friends

You Can't Hide (CK9C) - fnaf world

Lights On (Kyle Allen) - daycare attendant

Drop (CG5) - glamrock

I Got No Time (TLT) - fusion

Join us for a Bite (JT Music) - free choice

other - fusion or free choice

birth month - main color

january - white

february - red

march - teal

april - blue

may - coral

june - green

july - black

august - pink

september - yellow

october - orange

november - purple

december - brown

fav animatronic - accent color

freddy - tangerine

bonnie - silver

chica - lemon

foxy - rose

monty - turquoise

roxy - magenta

sun/moon - sky blue

ennard - lime

baby - mauve

ballora - indigo

mangle - scarlet

springbonnie - lavender

other - gold

everything else is up to you!!!

this is what I got! a toy/puppet fusion hamster named callie :)

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf oc #the crying child #elizabeth afton #micheal afton #vanessa shelly #william afton #henry emily #charlie emily #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie #tlt #the living tombstone #ck9c #griffinilla #cg5 #black gryph0n #jt music #kyle allen #crusher-p #shadrow #kryfuze

[crowhyun]

How I Met Your Father (Pt. 1)

Yeonjun x Reader

Words: 2.3k

Part One Genre: light hearted fluff

You were already running late for work. You didn't look or feel so good, and you were going to call out sick if it weren't for your nearly empty refrigerator.

Looking up at the digital signs at the metro station, you squinted your eyes to read the moving letters. You sighed upon finding out that there was maintenance scheduled at a stop right before your own. You'd either have to take a bus the rest of the way or walk to work from there, and with the dark impending clouds of doom, you didn't think that walking was much of an option.

Shuffling around in your bag, you failed to find your umbrella, remembering exactly where you had left it and groaning internally.

The next train was due to come around in around 5 minutes, so you stood there, shivering a bit at the cold. You tried to remain positive, the day not really starting off well for you. Despite having a rather uneventful desk job to look forward to later in the day, you found solace in the fact that you'd be able to stay seated in a warm building.

Feeling a but bored and awkward, you pulled out your phone from your jacket pocket, accidentally pulling out your keys, noticed by the sound it made when it dropped to the ground a foot away from you. Sucking your teeth in annoyance, you bent down to pick them up, only for a stranger to unknowingly step over them, moving them a bit further from you.

"Hey-" You frowned, and they turned back, apologizing before continuing on their way. You shook your head and bent down to pick them up again, only now noticing that they were a bit too close to the tracks. One of your biggest fears were falling onto the train tracks and getting stuck there, so you always managed a far distance, but getting your keys would require you to be a bit too close to the train that was coming now in one minute. "Oh..." You said to yourself. You wouldn't fall. Just a quick snatch of your keys, and all would be fine.

It was a rational solution for an itsy-bitsy problem, but were you still scared? Of course.

Someone must've noticed your hesitation, their hand swooping down to collect your keys for you. Before you could yelp in alarm at you being possibly robbed, you looked up to see the person banding your keys to your with a smile.

Damn.

He was a looker. Black shiny hair, a foxy smile, sparkling eyes, and a put together appearance. Not too often you'd see a person this good looking.

Sheepishly smiling back, you took your keys from him, mumbling a thank you.

"You're welcome." What a smooth voice. That was all of the interaction before he went back to his own business, but now you were painfully aware of his existence just a few feet behind you. Was he looking at you? Did he think you were weird?

The train finally appeared from the darkness of the tunnel, and you were glad, remembering how you had to get to work, and quickly.

Once the train stopped, you waiting for a crowd to get off before you stepped on, noticing that all the seats were taken. Just your luck. The train car was filling up fast, and you grabbed a pole, keeping your bag close in front of you. You guessed that a lot of people had to get to work at this time as the car crowded up, forcing you to be shoulder to shoulder with others.

Despite your very visible discomfort, someone decided to place themselves face to face with you, and you looked up to see none other than the handsome man who helped you with your keys. You made eye contact and he awkwardly smiled before you quickly looked down, eyes widening for a split second.

How did you get in this position, and why was it starting to get hot underneath your coat?

The train started moving with a jolt, and you were already embarrassed as you bumped into him, quickly mumbling an apology.

This day must've been cursed. You knew the ride was going to be bumpy and you had only hoped that he wasn't going to the same stop that you were going to.

Holding on to the pole for dear life with your leg muscles stinging from trying not to bump into him, you kept your head down, looking at your feet. There wasn't one moment that you were chill, and there wasn't going to be one the more the guy was standing in front of you.

Not expecting the particularly rough start after a stop, you fell onto him, releasing both hands from the pole you were holding to somehow catch yourself. He quickly wrapped his arm around you, both your hands flat against his chest.

Quickly noticing your position, you scrambled yourself back up, an apologetic look on your face, worried that you might have hurt him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" You asked him, and he chuckled.

"Don't be, it's alright." He said. "Are you okay? The rides a bit more rough than usual."

"I'm fine. Sorry, I keep bumping into you."

"I don't mind it." He said with a smile just as foxy as the first time you saw him. A little embarrassed you said nothing more, instead over thinking about how he said he "didn't mind it". He doesn't mind you bumping into him, or he just wants to reassure you? I mean you didn't really mind bumping into him either, but you were sure he didn't mind in the way you didn't mind.

He smelled of citrus and mahogany, a calm and refreshing scent that made you want to plunge onto his chest again and maybe stay there for a bit. These thoughts were not safe to think while he was in such close proximity and your stop wasn't for another 10 minutes, but did you have anything else to do?

You found yourself looking down at his shoes. They were black and shiny, probably expensive as well. He seemed to work a professional job, as seen by the peak of the grey suit underneath his long black peacoat.

You looked up from his suit to his neatly tied tie, every edge and fold of his suit neat and ironed. There was not a wrinkle in sight and there wasn't a hair out of place.

You hadn't noticed that he was watching you damn near examine him until you looked at his face and saw him looking directly at you with a smirk.

"I take it you like the suit?" He asked, and you awkwardly laughed.

"Sorry." You looked back down.

Shit! That was embarrassing. You were only two more stops away from where you had to get off, and you didnt even know if you could manage it.

"Don't be sorry. I have to dress to impress today, so it's nice to know that someone likes it." He shrugged.

"Ah..." You nodded your head. You wanted to inquire more about it, like what he had to do today, if today was important for him, was he going to make it on time due to the upcoming maintenance. But...you didn't want to seem nosy, so you just shut your mouth. Small talk wasn't your forte, and you'd only embarrass yourself. Again.

With the train pulling up to a station about 25 minutes from your workplace, you hopped off happily. Going up the subway stairs, your happiness was quickly dampened once you felt heavy raindrops fall upon your heard.

"Shit!" You grumbled to yourself, looking for cover. You had hoped that it wouldn't rain, but alas, here you are. Looking around, you noticed a bus stop on the corner, the last of a crowd hopping onto the bus. You widened your eyes once you noticed that that was the bus you were supposed to take. "Wait!" You yelled out for the bus driver, running to the stop. Did he see you? Did he care?

Apparently not, because the bus doors closed promptly, and with an annoying screech, the bus started on its way, right before you could get to the stop.

"Shit, shit-" You brushed your wet hair back with your hand in frustration, breathing heavy from the running you just did. You didn't know when the next bus would come, and you had to clock into work within the next ten minutes. You would have to walk.

"Ah, did I miss the bus?" You heard a familiar voice and a black umbrella hover over your head. Turning around, you noticed the man from the train. Was he following you? There's no way you could coincidently bump into him three times, already.

"Oh, uh, yeah." You sighed. "Do you know when the next bus might come?"

"Usually, the busses are about 20 minutes apart." He said, also seemingly a bit frustrated.

Furrowing your eyebrows and looking at your watch, you looked on the direction you'd have to walk, mentally preparing yourself for the way you'd get drenched in seconds.

"Are you, by chance, uh, walking to your destination?" He asked.

"Yeah," You shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice, anyways, I've got to get to work, and it's not too long of a walk."

"Surely, you don't plan on getting drenched in this cold rain," He frowned. "I'll walk with you. We're going in the same direction, anyways."

"O-oh, you don't have to worry about that, I'll be fine-"

"No, no, I insist." He said, a genuine look in his eyes. You paused for a second then sighed, chucking breathlessly.

"You've come to my rescue more than once today. Big thanks." You said, suddenly turning hot again. Big thanks...? Could you possibly get any more awkward?

"Only doing what feels right." He smiled. "Let's go," He said, nudging his head towards the direction.

The walk started off pretty silent. It felt like you were trying your hardest not to bump into him with every step you took, keeping your hands neatly folded in front of you, and staring straight ahead.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," He started to speak, slightly startling you. "What do you do? You said you had to get to work, I'm hoping they're not too strict." He laughed.

"Oh, I just work in sales." You shrugged. "My management isn't too strict with us, they'd understand my tardines. I just wish I would've been able to catch the bus."

"Ah, sales..." He nodded. "That's one thing we have in common."

"Really?" You smiled, looking up at him for a split second. "It's not the most awesome job, but I get by...oh, and thank you so much. I didn't realize exactly how much I'd appreciate an umbrella right now."

"So, you were really planning on walking to work in this rain? You're stronger than me, I could never." He laughed.

You shrugged. "Walking in the rain wouldn't make my day any worse than it actually is." You regretted saying that the moment it flew out of your mouth. Now he probably thinks you're about to trauma dump on him like no other.

"One of those days, huh?" He sighed, slightly tilting his umbrella more towards you, effecting blocking the rain from hitting your shoulder.

"I-I mean, it's alright." You chuckled nervously. "Your help surely makes it better so far."

"Good to hear." He said, smiling dorkishly. Cute.

The rest of the walk was quiet again, yet this time it was a bit more comfortable. You hadn't noticed how wet he was getting until you approached your building, feeling apologetic, as if it was your fault.

"This is me." You said, facing the tall, glass building you guys approached. "Once again, thank you so much, I really appreciate your help today."

"No problem." He smiled, closing his umbrella. "Also," He handed you the umbrella, and you just looked at him, confused. "You can keep this."

"Oh, no, that's okay, I couldn't-"

He gently placed it in your hands, anyway. "Don't worry about it." He laughed. "Maybe we can both use it again when we finish work today, hm? How about dinner? I know a great place down by the river."

You raised your brows, surprised by his forwardness.

"A-are you asking me out to dinner? With you?" You asked, just to make sure.

"Well...hopefully with me." You could tell he was starting to get a bit sheepish.

"Sure!" You said with a smile, still taken aback but pleasantly so. "I, uh, I get off at around 6 today, so I'm free after that."

"Okay, awesome!" He said. "I'll wait for you down here once you get off, then. See ya, pretty." With a curt wave of his hand, he turned around and went inside the building, you following him unknowingly before you stopped in your tracks, eyebrows furrowed as you watched him walk towards the elevators.

Then it dawned on you. "Oh...OH!" You exclaimed and you heard him laugh, back still turned as he went on about his way. He worked here! How did you not know that?

Eyes still wide as you stood there in the middle of the floor, you quickly brought out your phone, no longer caring about how late you were. Bringing up your best friend's contact, you furiously texted her about every single thing that happened this morning.

Your heart beat at a thousand miles, the smile never leaving your face as you made your way to the office, thumbs still gapping away at your phone.

What you thought was going to be a horrible day swiftly turned into a day you'd never forget, with the promise of what you only hoped to be, a good date around the corner.

‐-------

AN: OMG YAY GUYS! I finally finished something! I did it while I was working lol, but I wanted something a little light hearted and cute, and I'm surprised I managed to finish it. I think it's a good step to getting out of my writers block! I hope you guys enjoyed this, and let me know if you want a part two. I already have an idea for what part two can be and it's not as cute and lighthearted bcs Yeonjun makes me feel NSFW things and I like writing abt them lolol.

#yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x reader #txt fluff #txt x reader #crowhyun

[lost-in-tokyo]

Good Morning

Pairing: Suguru geto x fem!reader

Word count: 1,6k

Synopsis: Only one thing would make you happy when waking up early: seeing Geto Suguru by your side. (smut / nsfw / fluff)

Warnings: Lazy morning sex, unprotected sex, soft dom!Geto, established relationship, Geto is very sweet, creampie, consumption of cigarettes.

Light kisses being pressed from your neck to the side of your mouth made your eyes open. Laziness overtook your body as you watched the shy rays of sun entering through your bedroom’s curtains. Checking the alarm on your bedside table, you see it was little past 6 in the morning. The sun was slowly appearing, spreading a yellowish tone on your white walls. 

Your back was pressed against his warm chest, his arms firmly around your waist as he whispered “Good morning, beautiful.” in your ear. His voice, husky from having just woken up.

Mornings were your favorite part of the day since you moved in with Geto. He’d always wake up early in the morning with his light kisses, join you in for shower and then make you something delicious for breakfast along with his strong black coffee. 

“Good morning, baby.” Your voice a little above a whisper as you turned around to peck his lips. 

Stretching yourself as much as you could in his hold you check the time again. “Why did we wake up so early?”

He smiled at you, it’s no wonder why you don’t remember, he told you about his plans when you were half asleep already. He bets you didn’t register half of what he said to you the night before.

“I have to leave for a mission, remember, angel?”

Loosing his arms from around your waist he sat on the bed, his back against the beige headboard. He stretched his arm, picking up a cigarette and his silver lighter from the night table.

“Oh, I forgot about it. When are you leaving?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to take the sleepiness out of them. 

“In an hour. But I don’t think I’ll be there for too long, just two or three days.” Litting up his cigarette and taking a long drag, you watched as its smoke wandered around the bedroom, mixing with the sun rays.

The smell of it instantly made you feel more relaxed than you already were. It’s funny how you used to hate Geto’s habit of smoking, but with time, ended up associating the smell of it with his cologne, a scent you could only describe as home.

You stretched yourself one more time, before covering your naked body with the white silk sheets and sitting on his lap, straddling his waist.

Geto took the cigarette in his fingers, offering it to you, which you took, taking a long drag of it while staring into his eyes. His dark orbs were fixed on your lips, watching as the gray smoke passed by them. 

“You know, you’re beautiful when you're sleeping.” He bluntly stated, eyes coming up to meet yours as he took a lock of your hair and started playing with it around his fingers.

“Just when I’m sleeping?” You joked, a smirk on your lips.

“You’re beautiful all the time. But you already know that.” One of his hands rested on your hips and the other took the cig you were offering back to his lips. His hair was down, a little messy from the pillows, his foxy eyes more narrowed than usual due to his sleepiness.  

It was true, you knew you were beautiful. It’s not as if Geto had left any space for you to question that. The brunette was always finding a way to show you how beautiful you were to him, with his words, his lips, his touches and his thrusts. One action more in love than the other. Geto worshiped you, you were his favorite thing about being alive.

“If you keep spoiling me like this I'll get used to it!” You warned, still smirking as your hands rested on his broad shoulders, feeling his warm skin beneath your delicate fingers. 

“You should be used to it already.” He smiled, placing the rest of the cig on the ashtray before leaning in and connecting your lips.

His mouth was warm, asking for entrance as he gently tugged at your bottom lip, which you gladly conceived. He tasted like cigarettes and toothpaste as his tongue traveled through your mouth, visiting the same places he always did, knowing your entire body, almost as if he had a map of yourself on his mind.

The sweet kiss soon started to heat up. Both his hands grabbed on your hips tightly, guiding your movements so that you could grind on him. The contact of your clothed sex on his being enough to make a gasp leave your wet lips. 

Suddenly Geto flipped you over, hovering over you, his mouth finding yours again before he started trailing down with his wet kisses. Stopping at your breasts he removed the sheets completely from you, sucking and biting on your right nipple as his fingers worked on your left one. 

Little moans and whispers of his name could be heard as soon as his other hand found your core again. His skilled fingers found your clit and applied circular motions on it. Your fingers found his long hair, tugging at it, making a growl leave his throat.

“So pretty.” He mumbled against your breast before moving his kisses south, slowly making his way to where you wanted him the most. 

Suguru’s tongue met your wet slit, slowly licking it from bottom to the top. A gasp left your lips as you closed your eyes, waiting for his skilled tongue to take care of your pleasure. When his tongue met your core again it was slow, sensual, averting between your needy clit and your clenching hole, invading it so deliciously you couldn’t hold back a moan of his name.

The lewd sounds made by him filled the room, his nose as touching your bud as his tongue savored every part of your insides, going deep before pulling completely out to lick at your clit again. 

It was becoming too much, your vision started to get blurry, and you knew you’d be over soon. 

“Sugu… gonna cum.” You warned, hands finding shelter on his black strands, pulling his head even closer to your core than before. 

Focusing entirely on your nub, he used two of his fingers to invade you, reaching deeper than your own fingers would ever reach. A high pitched moan left your lips as your toes curled and your legs started to shake, the knot formed in your belly ripped and your orgasm washed over you, coating Geto’s chin with your juices.

You were still panting when he left his position in between your legs, licking his lips before kissing you fervently, his tongue invading your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

“Gonna be a good girl for me now, right?” His whisper hit your ear as one of his hands used his member to collect some of your juices from between your folds.

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded quickly, watching as a smirk formed on his lips.

He slowly pushed his cock inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut at how full you suddenly felt. Suguru kissed you as he started to rock his hips, settling at a fast pace making lewd moans to leave your body at the feeling of his shaft working deeper inside you and stretching you out, until you could feel him hitting the entrance of your womb.

“Always so tight, angel.” He moaned into your mouth.

You didn’t know, but Geto was savoring the way you felt as you squeezed him, the way you tasted, how soft your lips were, trying to memorize everything. After all, he’d be gone for a couple of days and he wanted to remember all the details when he was far from you.

The brunette pulled away from you, sliding out before rolling you over and pulling your hips up. He sunk back into your slick with heavy curses flying from his mouth. You mewled as he pressed his chest to your back, his lips brushing where your shoulder met your neck. He reached even further than before, his cock kissing your cervix with each stroke, eliciting soft moans from you every time.

You groaned as he pushed deep inside, rutting into your tight hole as he turned your head to once again kiss you. Your broken moans filled his mouth, spurring him on as he bullied you from behind. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet cunt was all he could hear besides you, pushing you closer to the edge with each thrust. 

A loud moan of his name cut the air in the bedroom, alerting him of another orgasm that was about to come.

“Together, angel, together.”

You complied to his request, holding yourself as much as you could, feeling his thrusts become sloppy and faster than before, making you see white and your hands grab the sheets beneath you. 

“Suguru!” You couldn’t hold anymore, you felt as if your mind was clouded and you could think of nothing but Suguru Geto.

“Cum for me baby! Now!”

And you did, the two of you reaching your climaxes together, Geto spilling all his seed deep inside of you, making you full before collapsing on the mattress as you panted, slowly riding out of your climaxes. Sweaty bodies glued to each other as you felt Geto remove his dick from inside of you, making a small gasp cover your lips.

“You did so good for me, baby. So good.” His lips touched your shoulder before trailing a line on your back, pressing sweet kisses against your skin.

“Love you, Sugu.” You mumbled, too tired to say it out loud.

“Love you too, angel.” He got up from on top of you, allowing yourself to move around and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer for a sweet kiss. 

“Wanna join me for shower?” His raspy voice hit your ears, making you smile against his lips.

“Sure thing.”

Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated &lt;3

Masterlist

#suguru geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #suguru geto x fem!reader #suguru geto fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[fazbear-ent-official]

Hi! It's been a while. Bet you would want to know what I've been working on, huh?

I had new skins and outfits made for all the animatronics that are Valentine's Day themed! I also already distributed them between the animatronics.

Freddy has pink fur and a bright red hat meant to look like a box of chocolates.

Chica has a sort of white/light beige "white chocolate"-looking color and a red velvet cupcake (I could not get it to be sentient tho so she might just wanna stick with the original) and if course her bib is changed with a custom Valentine's Day design as well.

Bonnie has been given brown fur and plastic "chocolate drizzle" to wear, and also a heart-shaped guitar.

Foxy has been given bright red fur, both I'm a brand new state and a "torn" style. And I also got him a black leather jacket, which I thought would look good on him.

Have they put on their Valentine's Day skins yet? I want to know what they think!

-charity anon

lovely, so you're yet another of those fashion students joining the company out of despair (affectionate) ?

#ask fazbear ent