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taegimood · 4 months

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— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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taexoxosgf · 5 months

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FORMULA 1

PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader

WORDS 3.5k

SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.

WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol

NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb

You spot Mark across the airport track.

Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.

Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.

You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.

You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.

ML: Enjoying the view?

ML: I know I am

You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.

ML: Come here.

You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.

ML: Baby don’t be like that

You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving

You: Bye

Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.

People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.

There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.

There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.

Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.

You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.

Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.

The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.

You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Leaving so soon?”

You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.

“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.

Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.

All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.

You know what this means.

I don’t even want to think about it.

There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.

You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.

Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.

“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.

‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.

You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.

His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.

As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.

The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.

Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.

You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.

“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.

You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.

“Since when do you like good girls?”

Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.

He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.

“I did until I met you.”

“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.

One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.

You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.

Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.

His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.

You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.

His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.

“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.

“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”

“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.

He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.

You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.

Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.

“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.

You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.

He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.

His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”

He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.

“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.

His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.

You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.

“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.

“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.

Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.

As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.

“Don’t tease, slut.”

“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.

As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.

“Spit on it,” he demands.

From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.

Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.

Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.

The feeling was literal heaven.

Oh, how you could never get used to this.

His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.

Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.

A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.

“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.

You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.

As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.

“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.

“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”

Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”

This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.

“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”

Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.

“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.

Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.

The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.

“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.

His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.

“Fuck.”

You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.

Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.

“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”

You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.

“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”

His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”

“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.

“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.

“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.

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kcrossvine-art · 16 days

Text

haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D

As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!

We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.

A large daikon

½ lbs fatty bacon

Shallots

Garlic

Chicken eggs

Salt

Pepper

Arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.

AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.

Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)

Daikon and bacon r very tasty together

They end up having the same texture almost

Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy

Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling

Ketchup pairs well

(but i prefer medium hot sauce)

Dark coffee pairs well

The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish

. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.

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"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.

Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.

It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.

What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 large daikon, chopped

½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped

2 shallots

3 cloves of garlic

3 Eggs

Salt

Pepper

Some arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

Method:

Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.

Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.

Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.

Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.

Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.

Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.

Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.

Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.

Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.

Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.

Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.

Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.

Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!

#dungeon meshi #food recipes #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #digital art

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oikasugayama · 4 months

Text

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 5

MDNI, this is a NSFW series for adults

pt 1. Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagwa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (Finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Atsushi

such a sweet boy... he's so down bad for you.

it's very obvious to everyone, including yourself, that he has a crush on you. he blushes every time you come in the room, he greets you overly-politely and always offers to run errands for you while he's out, and when you have to go on missions he makes sure to tell you good luck and he hopes you come back safely. he stares at you when you're working, eventually gathering the courage to tell you that he thinks you're very pretty, and he even admits that he likes you when ranpo and dazai threaten to tell you.

he tells you no pressure, don't worry about saying anything back, he doesn't intend on asking you out or anything because you're too good for him... but you surprise him and say you'd like to get to know him better as friends and maybe eventually you could go on a date.

he's over the moon!!!!!!!! and so you start spending time together outside of work, which was never an issue until you accidentally fall asleep at his place one evening.

you wake up on the couch and atsushi is nowhere to be seen. you rub the sleep out of your eyes, get up, and shuffle to the bathroom because you really have to peeee

and before you open the bathroom door, you turn your head to look at the source of a noise and see into atsushi's bedroom. he's sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes are screwed tightly shut, and he's rubbing his cock quickly. you're in awe, unbelieving that you've caught him doing this while you're visiting, and with his bedroom door open.

and then something shocks you more.

he cums, using his free hand to catch his mess, and you hear a very whiny, shaky moans of your name come out of his mouth.

you gasp, and his eyes snap open, his head turning to you.

"oh shit-- [y/n] i-- i'm so sorry, please dont--"

you run into the bathroom, locking yourself in. you have to gather yourself for a good couple of minutes before you can act normally again.

he knocks softly on the door, and you don't answer. he knocks again.. and again... he calls for you, and finally you open the door as he's about to knock another time.

his face is beet red, his eyes full of guilt. he tells you he's sorry, something came over him and he just couldn't help himself. he wasn't trying to being gross or weird and he's so so so so so so sorry

he's very surprised when you shrug and say you've thought about him while masturbating too.

Nikolai

you think you have the wrong hotel room when you open the door to find a white-haired man spread out on your bed completely in the nude, but then you notice a pair of your panties in his hand, wrapped around his hard cock

"i'm calling security"

"no need," he sighs happily. "i'm sure you'll find they're all on my side."

you try to call his bluff, but he's surprisingly fast and he springs out of bed, grabbing you and closing the door before you can get away.

"i've been waiting for you for so long! you can't go away yet!" he crowds you against the door, locking you in with his body

"it's you... you're the one who's been following me through town."

"you're just so beautiful," he says, trailing a finger down your cheek. "I had to have you to myself."

"who are you?" you ask with a shaking voice.

"i'm Nikolai, and i'm your man for the evening. once i've had my fun i'll leave, but i have a feeling you'll want me to come back" ;)

#bsd headcanons #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #atsushi x reader #atsushi smut #atsushi headcanons #nikolai x reader #nikolai smut #nikolai headcanons

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munson-blurbs · 7 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Summary: You and Eddie face a familiar nemesis at a Teacher Appreciation luncheon, but the rewards that come with your strengthened relationship are far sweeter.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), semi-public sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), choking, spanking, praise kink, orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, Carol Perkins makes an appearance

WC: 9.6k

Chapter 18/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie pic credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

Out to lunch

Be back soon

That’s the message hastily scribbled onto the sheet of staff paper Scotch taped just above Rock Records’ hours of operation. Innocuous enough; a sign that has been posted on many a small town storefront. But if anyone is listening closely, they’ll hear Guns ‘N Roses still playing over the tinny sound system—not to mention the moans drifting from Eddie’s managerial office.

Eddie has you laid back on the desk, your legs hooked over his shoulders. His fingers grab onto your thighs with such ferocity that his rings threaten to leave indents on your supple skin. He’s on his knees, a man possessed as his tongue glides over your clit.

“F-Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

You can feel him grinning against you, obviously pleased to be catapulting you into this blissful spiral. He tugs you just a bit closer, the subtle movements of his jaw apparent as he laps at your pussy. His own noises nearly drown out yours; the way he devours you has him smacking his lips together greedily. You’re a feast, and he doesn’t intend to leave a single crumb behind.

Your legs tremble and your toes curl, back arching to create a small gap between you and the table. Somehow, you manage to sit up just enough to reach out and lace your fingers through the strands of hair that have escaped his ponytail.

He’s acutely aware that you’re watching him, though he doesn’t see your awestruck expression as you take in the sight before you. A sheen of slick and saliva coat his chin, evidence that his efforts are far from futile.

He’s so beautiful between your legs, worshiping your pussy like it’s a deity, leaving nothing untouched. His cock strains against his fly as it seeks the warmth of being inside you.

“I’m close, baby, s-so close!”

He knows he should stop now, forcing you to beg him to let you finish, but he simply can’t deny you. Maybe some of it is selfish; making his girl come is just as satisfying as his own orgasm. The way you chant his name, body shaking as unbridled ecstasy takes over.

Your free hand swoops across the table, knocking to the ground a small stack of papers and a paperclip box. Everything scatters along the carpeted floor. “Sh-shit, ‘m sorry—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eddie growls, two thick fingers gliding in your wet sex as he speaks. “Don’t you dare do anything but come for me.”

That shuts you up, save for the wanton moans you exhale as the coil in your belly snaps and relief floods your body.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Eddie is pulling you and bending you over his desk. Your elbows hit the table, but you’re still floating too high to brace yourself for pain. The soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone and his zipper teeth opening have you clenching around nothing.

He hikes your skirt up even higher—your lace panties already snug in his back pocket—and taps the head of his length on your ass. You’re so wet that you’re glistening, and he grabs the Trojan from his wallet before rolling it over himself and pushing into you.

“Thassit, mmm, fuck,” he grunts, filling you fully until he bottoms out. “You knew what you were doing when you came here, didn’t you?” One arm wraps around your waist as he thrusts up into you. “Pretending like you just wanted to visit. Yeah, right.”

You grin victoriously. Eddie didn’t normally work on Sundays, but when he picked up a last-minute shift for a sick co-worker, you had to jump at the opportunity.

His pace intensifies as your body brings him to his own release. If you were at either of your places, he would still be eating you out, not stopping until he had you in tears. He wouldn’t even care if stickiness pooled in his boxers, but he has no spare pants to change into, and he certainly can’t get caught with cum-stained pants while on the clock.

His hips piston a bit faster, hand dropping so his middle finger can readily find your clit. As soon as you whimper, already overstimulated all the fullness within you, he’s a goner. You can feel his heart racing when his chest presses to your spine, even through your respective shirts.

“‘M right there, oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, teeth gritted in concentration. He throws his head back and grabs a handful of your bare ass, smacking it for good measure.“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me.” Every syllable is punctuated with another snap of his pelvis. The heart pendant hanging from your necklace bounces against your chest with each movement. “‘M coming, coming all f’you, take it, baby.” He spills into the condom with a satisfied groan, the force of his final thrusts sending you over the edge.

His plush lips leave tender kisses along the side of your neck, delaying his inevitable withdrawal. “That was…holy shit,” he breathes with a kind laugh. You wince as he pulls out of you, already far too empty for your liking. Nimble fingers knot the used latex, dropping it into the wire trashcan beside the desk.

“Y’okay?” Eddie asks when he notices your silence. Worry creases his brows. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His gaze drops to the flesh he’d just spanked, gently running his palm over it in an attempt to soothe. “I might’ve gotten carried away—”

“‘M good,” you reassure him, having finally found your voice. You giggle as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I like when you’re a little rough with me,” you admit, heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Eddie cocks his head. “Yeah?” He fixes your skirt, ensuring that everything is covered, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Yeah.” There’s a shy smile on your face as you turn and face him, leaning in so your mouths can meld together. His hands cup your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, tongue tentatively nudging yours as though asking permission. You eagerly allow him in, one finger hooked on his belt loop.

Even when he’s playing a dominant role, withholding your pleasure until he sees fit, it’s no less intimate than when you make sweet, sensitive love. Relinquishing autonomy carves out a path for security and respect, two facets that Eddie takes to heart. He’s learned to read your body like a map, knowing exactly where to touch you—and where not to touch you—and how to bring you to your tipping point.

“How am I supposed to continue my shift after that?” he asks, still remaining close enough that the slightly chapped skin of his lips scratch yours. The two of you exchange breaths, utterly intoxicated on each other. “Gonna be thinking about my perfect girl the rest of the day.” His teeth gently nip at you when he speaks. “This beautiful face…beautiful hands…” He drops to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him, hands strong on the small of your back. “Beautiful stomach…beautiful legs…”

You laugh, fully and heartily, unable to take your eyes off of the man paying reverence to your body. “Eddie, get up,” you chastise teasingly, stumbling a little as he clings to you harder. “And give me back my panties.”

Eddie pouts, lower lip jutting out in anticipated protest. “But–”

“I have to go grocery shopping,” you tell him, trying to reach into his back pocket to grab at the lacy fabric sticking out, but he shifts away too quickly. “You want me walking around Bradley’s all exposed?”

A mischievous grin spreads across Eddie’s face, activating the dimples in his cheeks. “Well…”

You cross your arms over your chest, snug underneath your breasts. “Really? What if I have to bend down to get, I dunno, peanut butter? And then some random guy–or maybe someone we know, like Jason Carver–” your nose wrinkles, disgusted at the mere mention of his name, “what if he gets a glimpse of–”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Eddie huffs, standing up as he tosses it over. You triumphantly slide them back up your legs, feeling your cooled slick from earlier in the afternoon against your core. “But only because I don’t want anyone else seeing what I get to see.” He delicately bites your earlobe, well aware that if he continues down this path, he’ll be hard again.

You shiver at his subtle possessiveness, fighting the temptation to undress him and beg for him to be inside you again. The desire is so overpowering that you almost forget the second reason you’d stopped by the store this afternoon.

“Eds? Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Shit, baby,” he laughs, snaking a hand up your shirt as he sucks on your neck, “I’d give you a fuckin’ kidney right now if that’s what you wanted.”

“‘M serious,” you press, hoping his doesn’t notice the way your voice catches in your throat. His thumbs center on your bra cups, caressing the underwire and letting his fingers slip underneath. “Th-There’s this teacher appreciation luncheon that the PTA is hosting, and we can bring a date.”

The unspoken remainder of your question bears a hefty implication: a public confirmation of a relationship previously only fueled by the small-town rumor mill.

Eddie is unfazed by your hesitance, enchanted by the soft skin below his calloused palm. He’s determined to memorize it, each dip and curve and the way you fit perfectly in his hands. “When is it?” His breath tickles your exposed neck. He doesn’t wait for a response before adding, “I just have to ask Wayne to watch Harris.”

“Saturday. A-A week from yesterday.” You swallow your nerves, wondering if he’s going to pick up on the reason behind your anxiety. If he’ll feel it, too. “But there’ll probably be some parent volunteers there, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You grimace at the thought of him walking into the room, shell-shocked when he sees their unwelcome sneers. “They need a final headcount tomorrow,” you don’t add that the invitation had been sent earlier last week, and you’d been putting off asking until the last possible minute, “but if you can’t, or you don’t want to–”

He interrupts your rambling with a kiss, sloppy in its urgency. “I don’t care if Mrs. O’Donnell herself shows up. I want to go.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I’d love to be your date. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he grins, conspicuously adjusting himself over his pants, “one of us has to work.”

You swat at his backside, hitching your purse over your shoulder and smoothing down your skirt again. “Need anything from the store?”

It’s an innocuous question; you’ll just add whatever he says to the list you’ve scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, safely tucked away in your bag. To Eddie, it’s enough to tug on the corners of his lips, which he tries to hide by scratching at the shadow of stubble on his cheeks. It creates an image of the two of you sharing a home, Harris sitting at the kitchen table with a bowlful of cereal, as you prepare to do the family shopping. Or maybe the three of you would go together, Harris helping push the cart while scouring the shelves for whatever sugar-laden junk food he’s obsessed with that week. Later, Eddie would lean over to grab a bag of apples from the produce department, hand gently brushing along your back as he does it. He doesn’t care who sees; hell, he hopes everyone notices the way you allow him to touch you so casually. No shame, no pretending. You might even intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, claiming him in your own way.

“Nah, baby, ‘m good,” he tells you, chuckling when you shoot him a knowing look. “Fine, Harris could use some more mac and cheese. Whatever’s on sale.”

You make a mental note to pick up a few boxes, lips gingerly kissing Eddie’s nose like a butterfly perched on a daisy.

Eddie watches the sway of your hips as you leave his office, fingertips pressing into his desk as he wracks his brain to determine how he’s managed to conjure up the luck to be with you. He’d always assumed that he’d never find someone who understood his unconventional experiences, who recognized the puzzle of emotions that accompanied those memories.

He hadn’t considered the prospect of meeting you: a person who not only saw his brokenness, but the whole parts of him, too. A man who loved his son with a fierceness that envied a mother bear’s, whose passion for music kept him afloat during the most trying years of his life, who couldn’t quite turn his back on his dreams despite the entire world seemingly persuading him to do so. You saw the good and the bad and loved him for all of it.

He certainly never thought about what it would feel like to love wholly. He recalls the fateful night in the emergency room, when he began to realize the lengths you went to for the people you cared about. The time he’d burst into your classroom after the conference with Ms. Marion, and despite his previous pattern of behavior, you’d comforted him and offered to spend your free time tutoring Harris. Even the gig when he saw you for the very first time and let his lust lead the way, fate had the last laugh when you fell asleep in his arms like you were made to fit there.

And then there are the less-than-ideal parts of you. The way you keep your feelings bottled up until they boil over in a flood of emotions that Eddie is still learning to sort out. The way you forget to take care of yourself in favor of looking after others. The way you believe you are simultaneously too much and not enough, allowing your insecurities to stampede over any and all logic.

It’s what makes you human, what makes you you. And Eddie loves you even more for letting him see that side of you.

If loving someone fully–and being loved fully–means confirming the gossip about the teacher and the freak, he’ll do it one hundred times over for you.

Your phone rings mere minutes after you finish packing away the groceries. Food shopping on Sundays is always the worst; stores are overcrowded, filled with parents and children losing their patience, and you’re fairly certain that you spent more time waiting in line to pay than you did actually perusing the aisle. You pluck the ripest banana from the bunch and peel it as you cradle the receiver between your cheek and shoulder. “Hello?”

“Hi, baby.” Eddie’s voice is honey-dipped on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Eds.” You lean up against the wall, body already feeling lighter. “You and Harris’ll be glad to know that I have secured the macaroni and cheese.”

There’s a sound of movement from his side, and you hear him say, “Har Bear, Ms. Sweetheart got your mac and ch–hey, give me that–”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris bellows, and you instinctively move the phone from your ear at the sudden noise. “When are you gonna come to my house and play?”

You laugh, struck by his enthusiasm. “Soon. I promise,” you tell him, meaning every word. Your heart swells at the thought of you, Harris, and Eddie working together to construct a Lego building, both Munsons deep in concentration with their tongues poking from their mouths. “Can you put your dad back on the phone?”

“Okay!” he chirps. “Bye! Love you!”

“Love you, too, Har.” You’re fairly certain that he’s already dashed out of the room, never one to sit still for long, but it occurs to you that he doesn’t even need to hear you say it back. He just knows that you love him in the way that you keep a smile on your face as you gently help him sound out new words, or chase him around the playground until you’re both winded from giggling and running, or share in his excitement at any accomplishment.

Eddie clears his throat when he gets on the line. “So, uh, I forgot to ask–what am I wearing to this luncheon thing?” He’s praying that it’s nothing too upscale; new clothes are not exactly within his budget right now.

To his relief, you say with a teasing lilt in your tone, “A button-down shirt and some jeans without holes in them, if possible.” You take a small bite of fruit, chewing as you speak. “Sneakers should be fine.”

“I can manage that,” he laughs. He doesn’t want to end the conversation yet, so he chooses to ask the first question that comes to mind. “Whatcha eating?”

“Banana.”

“Shit.” He clutches the phone cord in his hand, nearly yanking it out of the jack. A long exhale shoots static through the receiver. “Don’t do this to me.”

It takes a moment for you to figure out what this is. “Eddie Munson,” you start, not even trying to mask your amusement, “are you getting turned on because I’m eating a banana?”

“And now you’re making fun of me? In my hour of need?” He tuts softly, making you laugh even harder. “Evil, evil woman.”

“That’s me. I’m just the worst.” You take another bite to knowingly torture him.

“The absolute worst.” Eddie amends. He tucks his thumbnail between his teeth., incisor digging into the exposed crescent moon. His joking intonation makes way for authenticity as he says, “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.” Your voice is small but strong, so assured in your declaration to him. “See you tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll bring the coffee.”

The buzzer rings promptly at noon on Saturday, just as you’re swiping on a final coat of lipstick. You take a look in the mirror, giving a quick twirl as your green lapel floral button-up dress flows out around you and recentering the heart pendant on your necklace.

Your Mary Jane Doc Martens are loud on the floor as you shuffle to let Eddie in. There’s no denying the way your stomach flip-flops with excited anticipation. You’ve seen him dressed up before: at Grandma’s funeral, on your Valentine’s Day date, but the sight never gets old.

He’s standing in the doorway, looking every bit as delicious as you’d imagined. His maroon button-down is neatly tucked into black jeans, cuffs rolled to his elbows and showing off his myriad forearm tattoos. He’s freshly shaved, and you can see a tiny red speck where he’d accidentally nicked himself with the blunted razor this morning.��

“What d’you think?” he asks, spinning around in a way that’s almost identical to the 360-degree view you’d gotten of yourself. “Harris said I look too fancy, but I didn’t have time to change, so…”

You shake your head. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you tell him truthfully, arms wrapping around his waist as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “There’s just one thing.” You tug at the rubber band that encases his curls in a low ponytail until it slides onto your wrist, setting his hair free. “There we go.”

Eddie frowns, haphazardly smoothing down the hair that’s already beginning to frizz despite the mountains of product he’d applied in a futile attempt to tame it. “Y’sure?”

“Positive. You look more…” You consider your words carefully, “…more like you with your hair all wild like that.”

“That’s a good thing?” He cocks his head in disbelief, and you can’t help but kiss him again. This time, you let your tongue explore him as your fingers twist into the cotton blend of his shirt. His hands start on your cheeks, then gradually work their way down to your ass. A sudden grab of the supple flesh has you yelping slightly, muffled by his mouth on yours. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a laugh, the tip of his nose nudging against your earlobe. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he murmurs, inhaling the floral scent of the perfume you’d meticulously sprayed on your pulse points.

A familiar need builds at the apex of your thighs, and if your suspicions are correct, Eddie feels it, too. The temptation to undo every last one of his shirt buttons is strong, sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a blade.

Surprisingly, it’s Eddie who breaks away, though it takes every ounce of willpower to do so. “C’mon, let’s get going,” he whispers, chuckling when you pout in defiance. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that you’ve come to learn means he has something up his sleeve. “Don’t worry, babe; when we come back, I plan on showing you a little teacher appreciation of my own.”

The tantalizing scent of Italian food permeates Hawkins Preschool’s cafeteria, replacing the usual smell of freezer-burned chicken nuggets and fries. Green and gold cloths cover the tables, with the buffet from Enzo’s at the front of the room, a small crowd having already gathered to grab some food.

You spot Will immediately; he waves you over to a table in the corner. Marshall is seated next to him, offering an enthusiastic smile as you set your purse down on the bench.

“Go get something to eat,” Will tells you and Eddie, motioning to the spread. “We can watch your stuff.”

Eddie needs no further convincing; Enzo’s has been considered a delicacy for the Munsons since it first opened. He can probably count the number of times he’s eaten there on one hand. You watch as he eyes the options, silently calculating how much he can fit on his paper plate.

“Food from this cafeteria never looks so good,” you joke softly, so only his ears can hear. “Wanna take a little of everything? And we can split it?

Eddie nods, picking up a serving spoon and digging clumsily into the tray of lasagna. Marinara sauce oozes over the sides of the oversized utensil as he scoops out a hearty serving. The piece lands on his plate with a plop, and you take a step back to avoid it splattering on your dress. He apologizes quietly, but you just smile and pick up a napkin, dabbing at the stain forming on his shirt collar.

“Haven’t even been here five minutes and I’m already making a mess,” he grumbles, using the tongs to snag some chicken parmesan, much more deliberate in his actions.

You click your tongue in mock disapproval. “I really can’t take you anywhere, huh?” You fish out a meatball, sopping with sauce, from another foil tray before serving a generous portion of the house salad. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat the olives,” you tease, flicking some dressing over the pile of greens.

Eddie uses the hand not balancing his plate to grab two knives, two forks, and a fistful of napkins. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing at the bottles of Poland Spring nestled at the end of the table, “we need drinks.”

It takes a minute for you to mentally assess the situation before you figure out a plan. “Give me that,” you point to his plate, crooking your finger and motioning towards yourself until he hands it to you. “Now you can get the water.” Your conscience tugs at you, aware that this goes beyond beverages and some spilled sauce. “Hey,” you say softly. If you weren’t holding two full plates, you would rest your palm on his bicep and give it a squeeze. “It’s just you and me, okay? Everyone else is background noise.”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles tightly, wedging the two bottles between his elbow and his ribs. Background noise is the perfect description, considering that you’re the melody that plays on a loop in his brain, yet he never gets tired of hearing it. His internal song had been entirely composed of bass notes, and you’re a treble clef.

The two of you sit down next to Will and Marshall, who waste no time making conversation.

“So, Eddie,” Marshall starts, twirling spaghetti around his fork, “I know these two wrangle kids all day; what do you do for a living?”

“I manage Rock Records, over on Porter,” Eddie says, chest swelling with pride. Selling for Rick required him to pretend like he was unemployed or ‘between jobs,’ often earning him judgmental side-eyes. Now, he can answer honestly and without shame. “What about you?”

Marshall chews and swallows before answering. “I’m in sales at Bell Atlantic, but, uh,” he reaches over and takes Will’s hand, “I’m thinking about moving to Hawkins, so I’ll have to find something new, unless I want to commute to Indy every day.”

You lean over the table to wrap Will in a hug. “Congratulations!” you exclaim, eyes bright with excitement. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

“It’s not official yet,” Will clarifies, though he readily accepts your embrace, “but we can start the process once Marsh gets a job here.”

Eddie rubs his jaw thoughtfully, using the side of his fork to slice the meatball in half, then half again. “Sales?” he repeats, spearing a piece of food. “I think our sales department is hiring, actually. If you give me your resume, I can push it through.”

Both Marshall and Will light up at the idea, beaming from ear to ear. “That would be amazing!” Will chirps.

“Thanks, man,” Marshall says gratefully. You can see the gears turning in his head as he pictures his future with Will coming to fruition. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“‘Course.” Eddie swipes his tongue over the sauce in the corner of his mouth and smiles. “When you find someone who’s willing to stay in this town for you, you gotta hang on to them.” His fingers drape over yours, thumb grazing your bare ring finger. “Trust me.”

Your body warms at his touch, sunshine radiating through you from the inside. You want to remind him how absurdly easy he is to love, that you’d live anywhere as long as you could guarantee falling asleep in his arms each night. If you could bottle up the fuzzy feeling that you get every time he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing purposeful kisses along the nape, you would do it in a heartbeat.

A peal of cruel laughter hooks into you, unwillingly drawing your attention from the conversation to the woman standing off to the side. She speaks as though she’s trying to talk under her breath, but you know that you’re meant to hear her. “Told you, Steve: the teacher and the Freak,” she says with a smirk that you’re tempted to smack clean off of her face.

Your fingers clench around your fork so forcefully that it threatens to snap in half. The fact that anyone could be in their third decade of life and still build themselves up by cutting others down is absurd to you, perhaps because you spend most of your time teaching children the importance of intentional kindness.

Adrenaline surges through your veins in a classic battle of fight versus flight as you weigh your options. You could release the scream that you’ve trapped in your throat, throttling her with a barrage of hurtful words until she’s a sniveling mess. It’s too tempting, and you would have a difficult time talking yourself out of it if she wasn’t your student’s parent.

You could act like you hadn’t heard her, as improbable as that possibility is. It’s certainly the more mature decision, and one that would ensure your job security, but that just fuels the brewing anger with the knowledge that Carol would win whatever messed-up game she’s playing.

Eddie sits next to you, facing a similar silent dilemma. He could turn heel and run, storming off in a fit of fury, assuring himself that you’d be fine with Will and Marshall. He could shrink into himself until the moment passes and Carol moves onto a new target. He could leap on the table like he would have back in high school, make a scene and embarrass the hell out of everybody–but that would include you, and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He can tell by the way your jaw goes rigid that you’re holding back, that you’re trying to remain professional. An involuntarily grin twitches on his lips as he thinks about you eschewing all maturity and absolutely laying into Carol. He knows you can’t do that, as much as you both want to.

But he can.

“So glad you could take a break from cheating on your husband to be here, Carol.” He keeps a bright, innocent smile glued to his face as he feigns enthusiasm. You have to bite your lower lip to stifle a cackle; out of the corner of your eye, you can see Will covering his mouth and nose to keep from spitting out the sip of Pepsi he’d just downed.

Carol’s face blanches, obviously not expecting Eddie’s retort. Steve Harrington wasn’t either, and the “ha!” that escapes him is evidence of it. When Carol shoots death glares at him, he just shrugs, raising his brows as if to say, if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

With a muted string of swear words that none of you care to decipher, Carol huffs and stomps off. Steve glances for a moment, rolling his eyes at her theatrical display. “Sorry about…” he gestures vaguely at her sulking form as she whines to another parent unlucky enough to be in her warpath. “Anyway, um, my wife is at home with Josh, but we’re so grateful to both of you for everything you’ve done for him.” He gives a half smile, nodding at you and Will. “Not just with, like, school stuff, but teaching him how to play with other kids without it turning into a WWE Smackdown.” He sucks his lips to his teeth and shakes his head with a small laugh.

“That’s our job!” you chirp, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, still riding the high of watching Carol slink off, proverbial tail between her legs.

“Well, it means a lot,” Steve continues, pink tinging the apples of his cheeks as he confides, “especially because he’s going to have a little brother or sister in a few months. He was actually telling us how he’s excited to share his toys with the new baby. We thought Hell was freezing over.”

Pride swells up in Eddie's chest while he rubs your upper back; a small gesture with incalculable meaning. That’s my girl, he muses, eyes widening when you scoot into him so his arm drapes over your shoulder. You lace your fingers with his and pull them down so they graze your bicep as you continue talking with Steve, as natural as can be. No shying away, no denying the existence of the teacher and the Freak. You claim Eddie as yours, and a soft kiss to your temple claims you as his.

The conversation with Steve ends shortly after that, and you congratulate him again on the upcoming addition to the Harrington family. You, Eddie, Will, and Marshall decide to head out once you’ve finished eating.

“Thanks again, man,” Marshall says as he shakes Eddie’s hand. “I’ll swing by on Monday with my resume.”

“Don’t mention it.�� Eddie claps him on the back. Truthfully, he’s just grateful to not be the person receiving help. The universe had granted him chance after chance; it’s about time he’s able to do something for someone else.

Will turns to you just as you all near the double doors, illuminated by fluorescent lighting and a bright red EXIT sign. “Did you bring home the rest of the progress reports?”

You throw your head back, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Shit, I totally forgot.” You rifle through your purse until you find the silver key that’s been shoved to the bottom and make an about-face towards your classroom. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you big time.”

“Just give me a special mention in your Teacher of the Year speech,” he jokes, but you catch the sparkle of admiration in his eyes at your dedication—even if it follows a memory lapse.

Eddie trails right behind you as you unlock the door, dropping the key back in your bag for safekeeping. “Sorry, babe,” you apologize, “I just need to grab the papers and we can get out of here.”

“Take your time.” He plops down in the chair behind your desk, fingers thrumming along the oversized calendar you’ve marked up with various due dates and events. “I’ll stay out of trouble. Wouldn’t want to get…punished…or anything.” He looks up at you with a knowing smirk that droops into a frown when you ignore his entendré.

He swivels around when you move from the right side of your desk to your left, rummaging around for a clip to provide some semblance of organization. “I can be the teacher’s pet, y’know,” he continues, one fingernail lightly trailing up your arm. “I’m not opposed to doing whatever it takes to get an A.” Broad hands broach either side of your waist, but you pull away to pluck a Post-It from the stack and stick it atop the reports.

It’s when you lean over to grab a pen that the pent-up tension becomes too overwhelming for him; the way your ass is perfectly framed by your dress has him awestruck. Mine, mine, all mine, loops through his head as he tugs on your hips so you’re sitting on his lap.

“Don’t mind me.” His lips slowly kiss down your spine, busy fingers bunching your dress fabric up your thighs. “You keep doin’ what you gotta do, pretty girl.”

You exhale with a tired laugh. “The sooner I get this done, the sooner we can go home and you can show me some of that ‘teacher appreciation’ you promised.”

“Or,” Eddie counters, turning your chin so you can see the adorable pout he’s now sporting, “I could appreciate you right here.”

“Eddie!”

“Yeah, say my name,” he mumbles, half-teasing while still relishing in the way it sounds on your lips. “C’mon, can’t we just fool around a little bit?”

You swoop down to kiss him, tongue discreetly slipping into his mouth as your fingers curl into his hair. His hands roam your body, already fumbling with the column of buttons down your back. While he’s distracted, you break away and stand up, leaving him noticeably hard beneath his slacks. “Nope.”

He lets out an anguished groan, but ultimately relents so you can finish your work undistracted—save for the throbbing between your legs. With a hasty scribble of your Bic pen, you label the last of the reports and clutch the stack to your chest.

“We can go now,” you tell him, and he’s standing up and practically running out the door before you can finish speaking.

Your back is turned to him while you lock up, but you can still hear him skid to a stop and blurt out, “Sorry, Mrs. Sinclair.”

Your boss’s laughter trills through the hallway, and you can feel your tension ease until she asks him, “What’s got you in such a hurry?”

Don’t say something ridiculous; nothing that’ll make it impossible for me to show my face on Monday. You squeeze your eyes shut in desperation, anxiety absolved only when he replies, “Just gotta pick my son up from my uncle’s place.”

“How is Wayne doing?” There’s a smile in her voice. “Is he still working at the plant?”

“Uh-huh. Cut back his hours so he can spend more time with Harris.” Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets and sits on his heels to disguise the tented crotch area. “A-And how’re Lucas and Erica?”

“Oh, they’re great,” Sue chirps, seizing the opportunity to brag about her children. “Lucas told me he saw you at Will’s party; he’s really doing well with his sports management business. And Erica just graduated, pre-law, and she’ll be off to Harvard in the fall.” She rests a hand on his shoulder, concern creasing her brows. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Eddie nods overzealously. “Y-Yep. Feeling great. Everything is, uh, peachy keen.” He gives a thumbs-up to solidify his statement, and you have to stop yourself from snickering.

As soon as they say their goodbyes, you shuffle over to your flustered boyfriend, wrapping him in a hug from behind, hands resting on the soft pudge of his tummy. “‘Peachy keen?’” you prod, giggles bubbling in your chest at the mere mention of his word choice. “I was expecting you to throw in a ‘jelly bean’ at the end there.”

Eddie reaches around and pulls you so you’re tucked beneath his shoulder. “You’re so fuckin’ lucky you’re cute,” he quips, but the way you eagerly snuggle into him serves as a reminder that he’s the lucky one.

Gray clouds have been threatening a storm all day, sagging low in the sky with oversaturation. The air is thick with humidity when you and Eddie make your brief walk to his car, the telltale first drops of rain staining the pavement and permeating the atmosphere with a dewy scent.

There’s a clap of thunder just as you’re fastening your seatbelt and Eddie’s turning the key in the ignition; it startles you both more than you’d care to admit, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The rain pours in sudden opaque sheets, dashing any dreams you had of fooling around on your drive home; all of his focus is centered on getting you home in one piece. You settle for resting your hand on his knee, missing the usual rips and tears in the fabric so you can easily make skin-on-skin contact.

Eddie grips the wheel at ten and two, keeping a steady foot on the gas pedal as he crawls along the uneven road. His tongue pokes from between his lips as it often does when he’s concentrating. Drops thwack against the sedan’s hood and drown out the sounds of the Dio cassette he’d popped into the stereo system on the ride over to the school. At this point, he could be playing Alanis Morisette; the combination of the rain and the vigorous back-and-forth of the windshield wipers is too noisy for him to tell the difference.

The fifteen minute drive to your apartment takes an additional ten, but you’re both just grateful to arrive in one piece. You both take a few seconds to pause, assessing the intensity of the storm. You’ll be soaked by the time you reach the front door even if you take off your heeled shoes and dart barefoot through the parking lot.

“We can wait a few minutes and see if it slows,” you offer, but the constant rainfall has you questioning just how long you’ll be sitting in the car.

Eddie is thinking similarly, because he just shakes his head and kills the engine. In the absence of the music and the wipers, the pounding raindrops are even louder. He practically has to shout for you to hear him. “I say we make a run for it.” He grips the door handle, and you do the same. “On three. Ready?” When you nod, he begins counting. “One…two…three!”

The doors fly open with the force of your own strength and the howling winds. You shriek as cold water pelts your skin, gluing your dress to your body so the formerly loose garment hugs every curve.

You slip your hand into Eddie’s as the two of you race towards the tattered green awning covering the building’s entrance. It provides little shelter, but it’s better than nothing as you scramble to unlock the door.

“You even look pretty like this,” Eddie muses, clicking his tongue against his cheek. “‘S kind of ridiculous, y’know that?”

“You’re kind of ridiculous,” you laugh, wringing the hem of your dress before pulling the door open. Eddie catches it behind you, holding it so you can walk ahead of him. Once inside, he shakes his hair like a dog fresh out of the bath and flicks water everywhere: the already slippery tile floors, the glass window panes, and even you. You try and glare at him, but your giddiness betrays you, already heading towards your unit in hurried anticipation of his full and unadulterated attention to your body.

You’d left the fan going in the apartment, and the chill instantly infiltrates your bones. Your arms instinctively wrap around your torso, but Eddie’s having none of it.

“C’mere, pretty little thing,” he coos, unraveling you before cradling your cheeks in his hands, nose brushing yours. “Lemme warm you up.”

He says this, but his actions have the opposite intention. His fingers fly to your dress buttons with unbridled urgency, fumbling with the hooks to no avail. He could easily stop kissing you long enough to properly attend to the task, but that’s seemingly not an option. “Fuck it,” he swears against your lips, and before you can question it, you feel a rush of cool air against your back. A dozen tiny buttons clatter to the ground as he nearly rips the dress in half, already sucking on the skin above your collarbone.

“Been wanting to do that all day,” he confesses, pushing the torn fabric down until it pools around your ankles, leaving you in only your bra, panties, and shoes. “Baby, baby, baby; you got me so hard it fuckin’ hurts.”

You can feel him, the way his cock strains against his pants like it’s begging for release. “I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, undoing his button and zipper with far more grace than he undressed you.

“If it’s lingerie, can we save it for another time?” he asks, exhaling as he gets some relief from the pressure in his jeans. “Because if you’re not naked in the next ten seconds, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

You laugh at his candor. “Nope, not lingerie.” His teeth dig into his lower lip as you cup his bulge over his boxers. “Remember a few weeks ago when we talked about our fantasies?”

“Mhm. Vividly.” Eddie smirks as his hand snakes around your throat, not gripping it quite yet, but the motion still awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

“W-Well, I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago so I could get on the pill.” Your words have him frozen in place, and he steps back to assess your facial expression.

“Like, the pill?”

“The pill,” you confirm with an excited giggle, starting on his shirt buttons to reveal the white tank top beneath. “So we can, I dunno, play pretend until we’re ready for the real thing?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head. “Fuck, I fuckin’ love you. Holy shit.” It’s not just the fact that you’re about to let him finish inside you—although he certainly has no complaints about that—but it’s mostly the way you’ve embraced his most intimate desires. He’s been conducting some research of his own to learn how to dominate a partner, waiting for the perfect opportunity to showcase his newfound knowledge. “Need you. Now.” His voice trembles on the last word despite the strength behind it.

The two of you stumble into your room, shedding your remaining clothes in a trail towards the bed until you’re both wearing nothing at all. Eddie grabs your ass and squeezes, growling in desperation. “Perfect body, Jesus Christ. Was made f’me.” His lips attach to your exposed nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over the pert bud. He switches to the other, slotting his leg between yours so his thigh presses against your core.

“Eddie, please.” You make no attempt to mask your desperation; the feeling of your slick on his upper leg would give you away regardless. “I’ve been thinking about you filling me up…just…please.”

He nods, letting you lay back on the mattress so he can climb on top of you. “You want my cum, baby?” He leaves delicate kisses on your stomach, so close to your pussy but still too far.

“Mhm.”

“Then you gotta earn it.” He’s smirking at you, delighted to watch you squirm needily. “Leaning over in front of me at the school and then not even letting me touch you?” He tuts disapprovingly. “Doesn’t sound like something a good girl would do.”

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry,” you whine, “I swear I want it.” Your breath hitches as he slides one finger inside you, keeping his other hand in a tight fist around his cock.

He strokes himself, deliberate in each motion, never breaking eye contact with you. “Bet you wish this was around that pretty little throat of yours, huh?” He increases his pace. “Bet you wish I was inside you, too—don’t touch yourself.” His sudden gruffness leaves you taken aback, and he smacks your hand away from your clit before you can even start. “I never said you could do that.”

You whimper while he goes back to jerking himself, arching your back to bring him deeper.

“Y’want more? Use those words, Sweetheart.”

“More, more, I need it.” Nothing would be more delectable than being split open on his cock, your bodies bringing each other pleasure. There’s a small pressure as he adds another finger, not the fullness you’re craving but still satisfying nonetheless. “Eddie, fuck,” you moan as he curls them both, drawing you nearer to orgasm.

You think he’s finally going to give it to you when he lets go of his hardened length; instead, he wraps his newly free hand around your neck.

And, oh, the pathetic mewl that you let out as his grasp tightens, bewitched by his display of possessiveness. You teeter on the edge of release until he permits you, but there’s no holding back once he grunts, “your pussy’s got a fuckin’ vice grip on my fingers.”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you, but it leaves you writhing beneath him in ecstasy. “Thassit, come f’me. Sweet girl, so eager that she can’t even wait for my cock.” He tilts his head thoughtfully, comically casual compared to the way he’s controlling your own actions. “Tell me: is it the fingering or the choking that’s got you like this?”

“B-Both,” you stammer; Eddie squeezes your throat in response. One ring has been spun around a sweat-slicked finger, and it carves a skull-shaped design into your delicate skin. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m–” Passionate intensity overpowers any further conversation, replacing words with strained, high-pitched moans.

“Good girl,” Eddie praises, his harsher dominance briefly fading and a softer side takes over as he works you through your orgasm. You feel the simultaneous loss of his fingers around your neck and inside your cunt, but you’re immediately distracted by him bringing his fingers into his mouth and sucking off your release. “You’re as delicious as you look.”

You smile, eyelids fluttering as your overstimulation subsides. Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as you collect yourself. “That was…” The synapses in your brain struggle to fire as you come down from the high. You prop yourself on your elbows. “Really, really good.”

His body sags with relief. “Wanted to make it perfect for you, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your lips tenderly. “Wanted to give you exactly what you asked for.”

“You did,” you promise him, shivering as you shift positions and lose the addition of his body heat. “And now…it’s my turn to make it perfect for you.”

Eddie’s about to rebut that it’s already perfect because it’s you and him drawing pleasure from each other’s bodies, when you maneuver onto all fours. “Oh, honey,” he groans, grabbing a handful of your ass, but he doesn’t broach your entrance right away. You twist so he can register the confused look on your face. “Just takin’ a mental picture for when you’re not around.” His eyes scan your body, erection throbbing against his stomach. “Mmkay, ‘m good.”

He pulls on your hips, signaling you to scoot back so he can align himself. The bare head of his cock nudging your hole has you trembling anticipatorily. Slowly, deliberately, he pushes into you. You can feel every ridge, every vein, his silky skin against your walls. “You…” he searches for a proper description but is betrayed by the blood flowing away from his brain. “Holy sh-shit.”

He’s still for a moment, just soaking in your direct warmth. His hips snap forward after what seems like eons; the fullness within you is heavenly. You could keep him inside forever with nary a complaint.

Eddie, meanwhile, is just grateful that he’s already made you come on his fingers, because he can’t imagine lasting long enough to do it again. The part of you that can still compile a cohesive thought realizes this, too, and you reassure him “take what you need, baby.”

“O-Okay.” His tone is tentative but his movements are not, finding a pace that makes his body hum. His brown eyes are glued to where you two connect, watching himself slide in and out. The soft shlick that comes with each thrust, your wetness drenching his dick more and more, is his own personal celestial chorus. There’s nothing separating you from each other anymore.

He’s addicted to you, the way you fill each of his senses in a perfumed cloud of desire. A patch of stickiness coats his upper thigh; he realizes that it’s your release trickling out of you and onto him. “Love when you cream my cock, mmm, fuck.” One hand lets go of your hip and cracks down on your ass, skin rippling under the sudden contact.

You let out a euphoric yelp, embracing the sting. Your cunt tenses around him with each plunge. “Just thinking about feeling you come inside me,” you purr. “Are you going to watch it drip down my legs? Hmm?”

Eddie shakes his head before he remembers you can’t see him. “N-Nah, ‘m gonna…” a grunt disrupts his sentence, “‘m gonna stuff it back in this pretty little pussy. An’ you’re gonna keep it inside.” He breathes in audible gasps as his pace increases. “Like my good–little–girl.” The last three words are each punctuated with a thrust.

“Want it to take s’fuckin’ bad,” he continues, the admission spilling from his lips involuntarily. “Want everyone to know that you’re mine, and only mine.”

You brace your body weight to your forearms, lifting your ass in the air to allow him impossibly deep. “Bet I’d look really good having your baby, Eddie. All cute and pregnant for you.”

That has him imagining you in the same position you’re in now, only his palm is splayed on the swell of a baby bump, your tits heavy with milk to nourish the life growing within your body. He spills into you without warning, just him crying out your name as he lets go. True to his word, he swipes at whatever cum has dripped out and gingerly pushes it in your pussy.

He flops down on his back, completely spent, not bothering to clean the rope of cum that now adorns his softening length. You rest your head on his chest, his cooling sweat matting down the sparse hairs and sticking to your temple.

“I love you,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your arm. His lips easily find your forehead for a kiss. “You’re it for me, okay? Please don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t.” And you mean it. “I love you, too, Eddie.”

The two of you drift in and out of sleepiness for nearly an hour, safe in each other’s embrace, before he stirs you awake. “I gotta go get Harris in a few minutes,” he says, laughing when you groan your reply. “I know, I wish I could stay here forever.”`

“What if you did?”

Eddie furrows his brow. “I think that’s a little more babysitting than Wayne volunteered for.”

You swat at his chest playfully, rolling over so you can see his face. “No,” you laugh, nuzzling into his jaw. “I meant…what if you and Harris moved in once your lease is up? No pressure,” you rush to add, “but this is a two bedroom, so Harris could have his own space. I know you’ll have to think about it; I’m not looking for a decision right–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie interrupts kindly, silencing the ramble with a peck on your nose. “I don’t feel pressured. Trust me, if I didn’t have a kid to take care of, you’d never get rid of me.” He sighs and stretches, sitting up against the headboard, and you follow his lead. “Our lease is up at the end of next month. You’re the kid expert here; is that too soon to spring this on him? Will it, like, fuck him up irrevocably?”

You exhale, thinking about the best course of action. “Why don’t you ask him how he’d feel about it? Worst case scenario: he’s not ready and we’ll revisit it again in the future.”

“Are you sure? You won’t be mad or anything?” He’s treading cautiously as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He loves Harris more than anything in the world, but there’s no denying that having a child furthers the complexities of dating.

You take his hand in yours and hold it tight. “We’re a team,” you remind him, kissing his bare shoulder. “Not just me and you, but Harris, too. I love you both, and I want you both to be happy here.”

Eddie’s heart could burst; he doesn’t know whether he needs to laugh or cry or some messy combination of the two. A team, you’re a team, and teammates stick together and look out for one another and keep each other afloat in choppy seas. It’s what he’d always wanted but never thought he’d have, or even deserve.

Now he’s got it, and he swears he won’t let it go.

Eddie dives right into the subject at dinner that night, not wanting to lose his nerve. He sits next to Harris, cutting a hot dog into bite-sized pieces and making sure that it doesn’t touch the pile of baked beans on his plate. His son has recently begun refusing to eat foods that have come in contact with each other, even if he likes both of them.

“Hey, Har,” Eddie starts, carefully sliding the paper plate in front of him. “I have a question for you.”

Harris barely pays attention, too fixated on getting the ketchup out of the bottle and onto the hot dog pieces. The bottle makes a pfft noise when he squeezes it, making him giggle. “Daddy, the ketchup farted!” He repeats the motion again and again, finding it funnier each time.

“Yeah, that’s silly,” Eddie halfheartedly agrees, taking the bottle from him. “But, Harris, I need to ask you something important.” He picks up his own hot dog wrapped in a slice of Wonder Bread and takes a bite. “How would you feel about me, you, and Ms. Sweetheart all living in her apartment?”

Harris’s eyes widen. “Like, together?”

Eddie nods. “Mhm. We wouldn’t live here anymore, but you’d take Grandma’s old room, and we can decorate it however you want.”

“I’d have my own room?”

“Yup.”

This provides more questions than answers for the young boy. “But then where are you gonna sleep?”

Eddie coughs to mask his laughter, not wanting to offend Harris’s curiosity. “Um, well, Ms. Sweetheart and I would share her room.” Our room, he thinks, wiping his mouth to hide a smile at the thought of you waking up in his arms every morning.

“But you’re not married.” Harris spears a piece of hot dog with a plastic fork. “You gotta be married first.”

“Sometimes people get married before they live together. But sometimes they do things out of order.” Like meet at a bar and hook up, only to find out that she’s your kid’s teacher, and then you loathe each other until you start to fall in love. “And that’s not a bad thing.” He measures the consideration on Harris’s little face. “But we’ll only do it if you’re okay with it. It would mean we’d have to pack up our stuff in boxes and bring it to Ms. Sweetheart’s place.”

Harris jumps up from his seat, nearly knocking over the food. “I have lots of boxes! We can start right now!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie puts up a hand to stop him, chuckling as he motions for Harris to come closer to him. “We have a few weeks before we can do anything. But are you one hundred percent sure–”

“YES!”

Eddie pulls his son in for a hug, tickling his sides and kissing the top of his head. Happiness fills their home, though it won’t be their home for much longer. “I love you, kiddo,” he mumbles into Harris’s hair.

“Daddy?”

“Ya?”

“Can we call Ms. Sweetheart and tell her?”

Eddie wipes his hands on his jeans, making a mental note to sweep up any crumbs later. “I think that’s a great idea.” He stands up and practically sprints to the phone. He can’t dial your number any faster if he tries.

You pick up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart.” You can hear the smile in his voice through the receiver. “We’re in.”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui #smut

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agirlcandream84 · 2 months

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Neighbor!Frank is a Daddy When You Come Home Drunk

Guys I'm gonna fucking scream if Neighbor Daddy Frank doesn't do this to me. SCREAM. I'm considering this a part 2 to this. DO WE NEED PART THREE?! (ETA: Next part here!!!)

Neighbor!Frank x Reader

Word Count: 1,203 (5 min read)

"Text me when you're hooommmmme" you say in a sing-songy voice to Lily, the alcohol making you cheerful and warm, as she climbs into the Uber.

"K but you gotta text me too," she replies, eyes lidded and slumped in the seat. "Oh fuck, it's 3:30," she slurs, "Brian gonna's be so pissed," she adds before bursting into a fit of laughter.

You laugh back and shut the car door, watching it drive off. Standing in the cold spring night, alone on the sidewalk, your drunkenness hits you a little more clearly, like being dropped in reality after a lovely fuzzy dream.

You pull out your phone to call your own Uber but find only a black mirror staring back at you, battery long dead. "Oh shit," you mumble and look around to no one and nothing in particular. With a drunk person's confidence you decide the walk home will do you good, sucking the cold night air into your nostrils before starting the one mile trek to your apartment.

Twenty minutes, about 4 blisters and some teeth-chattering later, you find yourself on the stoop of your apartment building. Luckily, the alcohol flowing vigorously through your system numbed most of the discomfort but you were starting to feel intensely peckish. You were juuusstt on the cusp of, "if I don't eat now I might throw up," so you jammed your hand in your purse and started digging for your keys. And digging. And digging.

You pull out your phone to call Lily, when -- oh right -- the battery. You go back to digging. Then jiggling the door handle. Then sticking a bobby pin in the lock like this was a sitcom. Then sliding your library card through the crack in the door, hoping to catch the deadbolt. Maybe another jiggle?

"ffuuccckkk," you mumble, sitting on the stoop and resting your eyes a minute. Your body lilts to the side before you jerk your eyes awake. You approach the door again, peeling off your shoes, barefoot on the stoop, desperate to get inside. Why did your feet hurt so fucking bad? You needed food. And sleep.

Your eyes lock on the button for your neighbor Frank's unit and you smash your finger on it without hesitation. Frank would help. Frank's so nice.

You hear the crackle of the intercom and a raspy "uh hello?" on the other end.

"You're s'nice," you mumble out.

There's a pause before he says your name, his voice more alert than a moment ago.

"Bingo buddy," you confirm, winking at the intercom speaker.

"Don't move sweetheart, I'm coming down," he says urgently. What's this guy so worried about? You chuckle and let out a small burp.

What feels like two seconds later you see him through the glass, bare chested and grey sweatpants, hair mussed with sleep. He's unlocking the door and you instantly feel the warm comfort of his hand wrap around your waist, ushering you inside.

"Fuck sweetheart, you hurt?" he asks once you're inside, his arms holding you out in front of him as his eyes scan you for injury.

"no no no no no," you mumble, trying to correct him.

"Why don't have shoes on, doll? You walk home like, that?!" he continues, his brows knotted in confusion and concern.

"Wha?" you reply. Oh right, the shoes. When had you taken those off?

"Fuckin' Christ honey, girl like you can't be walkin' home drunk and alone in the middle of the night," he scolds, doing a final review to make sure you're not hurt. "You ever can't get home, you call me. No questions."

You nod and reply "Sorry but I can't find m'keys," trying to explain.

"Don't worry 'bout that, come on," he answers, grabbing your shoes and your purse from your hand weaving an arm back around your waist. You feel him guide you towards the stairs, so many fucking stairs, before you shout "Library card!" with urgency.

"Sssh sssh, gotta keep it down for the neighbors honey, let's just get you inside," he soothes you, chalking it up to drunk rambles.

"No no no no Frankie," you reply and he smirks at the name, "left m'libraby card outside."

"S'that right sweetheart?" he asks with the smile still on his lips and you nod, big, slow dramatic nods, and he adds "Ya know, you're cute when you're drunk."

You wink at him (you think) and say, "And you're cute when I'm drunk too," with something amounting to a smirk on your own face. This time he laughs and guides you by the hips to sit on the steps inside while he steps onto the stoop to find the lost library card.

Returning a moment later with your library card held aloft, he starts you back up the stairs with a "A'ight, come on, up we go sweetheart." You roll onto your hands and knees, deciding that a crawl up the steps was the only way you'd make it to the top.

"Nah nah nah, these stairs are filthy, come on," he scolds, reaching down to lift you to your feet by your armpits.

"But m'feet hurt sooooo baadddddd. I caaaannn't" you whine, actual tears threatening to fall if you didn't eat food in the imminent future.

"Alright alright, sssshh, come on sweetheart," he says more gently, one arm looping behind your back while the other scoops behind your knees. You're encased in his warmth, the natural musky aroma of his broad chest enough to lull you sleep right there and then. He begins the climb, each step slow and intentional, and you may as well be rocked to sleep in a bassinet.

"Need you stay awake for me doll," he says while jostling you left and right just slightly.

"Mmmm," you acknowledge in response, eyes barely peeling open.

"Come on, talk to me," he encourages.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you mumble, eyes slow blinking. He nods, the smirk again. You lean in close to his ear, his flopsy hair tickling your cheek, and whisper "I think you're cute when I'm not drunk too" before you lean your head allllll the way back to gaze at the chipped paint on the ceiling while belting Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U" into the echoey hallway.

He grunts as he attempts to maneauvre your head back up again, finding it more of a struggle than if he weren't currently laughing his ass off, adding, "Hey Sinead, knock it off before Mrs. Ericson starts her yappin' alright?"

You quiet down for a moment and your face grows solemn. Solemn enough that Frank pauses his climb, one foot on the stair above and one on the stair below. You find his deep brown eyes and feel the steady rhythm of his chest against you.

"You... you ok sweetheart?" he asks, quieter now. His eyes searching your face.

"Frank I...." you starting, eyes glassy and voice timid.

"What is is honey? C'tell me anything," he murmurs.

You swallow, your eyes darting to his lips before finding his eyes again, replying "I need food real bad."

A smile slowly cracks across his face and he nods, continuing his climb up the steps. "Alright honey, let's get you some food."

>> NEXT PART HERE <<<

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle comfort #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #neighbor frank castle #frank castle x y/n

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sturniolocraft · 2 months

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౨ৎ waking up is a job for two, chris x reader !!

summary: you have a habit of falling asleep in random places, especially when you're supposed to be filming. chris is the one to constantly wake you up! (aka; 3 times chris wakes you up, and the 1 time chris doesn't).

a/n— this is vv much based on chris n matt saying that chris wakes up him up constantly ^_^ i debated on making this a matt fic but im feeding the chris girls tn <3

1 (A CAR VIDEO)

chris wasn't the one next to you when you had begun to fall asleep, your eyes slipping shut as the conversation went quiet and matt was reading something off his phone to start it back up.

your head rested on nick's shoulder, the two of you always sitting in the backseat whenever you were invited to these videos. you didn't mind though, always happy to be with your best friends.

nick was the first to notice you had fallen asleep, rolling his eyes before taking a selfie for snapchat. he captioned it "sleeping beauty," which he knows he'll get shit for later, but it's funny, so he doesn't really care.

"chris," nick said, kneeing the back of his seat to get his attention away from his ranting. "shut the actual fuck up before you wake them up."

chris and matt turned to look at you, matt laughing and taking silly pictures of you while chris just went quiet and smiled at you.

they began joking about your sleepiness and the way you constantly slept on the job while they wrapped up the video, matt making sure to get a close up of chris and nick looking at you before putting the camera near your drooling face.

the ride home is somewhat quiet, only matt's idle talking and chris' music playing, keeping the car from going completely silent. nick being too busy on his phone, and you're still sound asleep.

chris is left with the job of waking you up, again. his cold hands digging into your sides, feeling like ice as he purposefully soaks up all of your warmth.

"chris?" you say annoyedly, huffing at him as he leans back laughing loudly. "that wasn't fucking funny, your hands are colder than a witches tit!"

2 (AT THE ZOO)

you and chris had split off from the others for just a moment, wanting to go look at the lions one more time before bed. even though it wasn't technically allowed, he had convinced you that there wasn't any harm.

you both sat down in front of the lion enclosure, looking at the lioness as she stared pointedly at you guys. knowing that you were there just outside the glass, you gripped his hoodie sleeve for a little bit of comfort.

"y'know," he says, moving his sleeve away from you so he could grab your hand instead. "we can always go back to the tent?"

you shake your head in response, whispering that you like the quietness. both of you laugh because neither of you is very quiet, but when the laughter dies down and you rest your head on his shoulder, you're almost out like a light.

soft snores come out of you as you sleep on his shoulder. he lets you rest for a bit before he gets a text from nick asking where you guys are, he huffs as he glances down at you asleep.

he feels bad as he gently shakes you awake, "c'mon, let's get back to the tent." he whispers, standing up slowly so you can grab on and he could help you up.

"m' so tired," you say, barely awake as chris basically carries you back to the tent. "can't wait for.. breakfast."

3 (AT TARA'S PARTY)

somehow, you, being you. you had found a way to fall asleep at a bustling party, slipping away into the bathroom for a breather. you sat in the bathtub for a moment, tipsy and socially exhausted.

you should've stayed home with matt, but you just couldn't handle not going places with chris. especially when there were going to be so many people around him. maybe you're a little bit possessive, but that never hurt anybody.

your head dipped forward and back as you tried to stay awake, ultimately failing as you rested your temple on the edge of the tub. falling asleep easily even with the loud music playing.

it only took a couple of minutes for nick and chris to grow worried about where you were, both of them searching the party for you. eventually, it was jake that had stumbled upon you while he was also trying to escape to the bathroom.

getting the call that you were asleep wasn't all that shocking, but in the bathroom had nick laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. chris made his way upstairs to the bathroom, nick following behind him at a slower pace.

when they saw you in the bathtub, they couldn't help but laugh. your body was completely limp and sweaty as chris peeled you off, wiping your face with his hand as he patted your face gently to wake you up.

"yo," he says, shaking you now. "you gotta wake up, we're going home."

your eyes open slowly, groggily looking around at him and nick standing above you. you faintly hear nick say something, "did you just call me sleepy smurf?" you ask, half asleep as chris picks you up.

+1 (DURING A MOVIE)

getting chris to watch a movie without interrupting or getting distracted was difficult, which is why you put on one that you've seen so many times you could recite it word for word.

friday the thirteenth was playing in the background as he talked at you, not really expecting you to respond as the two of you cuddled.

you didn't know when the distance had closed between you guys, both literally and figuratively. but you couldn't say that you were unhappy, you felt safe around him as he talked and was touchy even in public.

his arm around your shoulder and your head in his chest as a recipe for disaster, a good movie, and his voice was basically a lullaby for you. your eyes fluttering shut as you began drifting, letting your mind wonder as you fell asleep.

it takes him only a couple minutes later to realize you're asleep, peacefully on his chest all curled up on him. he almost wakes you up on instinct, but instead, he stops himself to quickly take a picture.

he rests his hands on your waist, playing with the fabric of your shirt as he bounces his leg while watching the movie. half because of boredom, and half because it was already a long day, he also begins drifting off to sleep.

falling asleep with his head nestled into yours, he pulls you closer even in his sleep. when matt and nick come home, they both stop to look at the two of you.

"i told you so," nick says, smirking at matt as he walks over to turn off the tv. "they had the cliche movie and everything, weirdos."

#button's writing tag #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo fanfic

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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

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people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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lady-of-endless · 3 months

Note

i was thinking of maybe kid, katakuri and law for the one bed trope! but if you only accept 2 i'll go with kid and katakuri (we don't have enough hcs of this beautiful man)! thank you so much again for your time <3 hope you have an amazing day!

Only one bed trope/ Being forced to share a bed for the first time (Trafalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid, Charlotte Katakuri)

Author's Note: YES FOR KATAKURI. Thank you so much for requesting him. Let there be only one bed.

Trafalgar D Water Law

- "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The most unaffected looking of all. Only seeming unfazed. He's slightly bothered by the inconvenience. To be clear, not because of you, but more because he's used to sleeping alone at night. There were times in which you napped next to him as he studied and he thinks it should probably be the same thing.

- Law doesn't want to make a big deal out of it but it's something new to him as well. You'll understand this because he's somehow a bit hesitant in his actions and words. He'll pay close attention to your reactions and try to act in tune with you like he's testing the waters without wanting you to notice a change in his attitude.

- He wishes for silence as you lay down to go to sleep but realizes that it feels so damn odd. So please try to say something. You two will conversate for a while, staring at the ceiling, some space between your bodies. Law starts to relax bit by bit and you can hear it in his voice that's becoming more softer.

- He falls asleep the last because of his many thoughts and plans for the next day. However, when he glances over you and notices how peaceful you look, his thoughts go silent. He also feels relieved to have you next to him resting safely for some reason he doesn't want to admit.

- Because you fall asleep before him, Law allows himself to whisper a barely audible goodnight to you.

- As motionless as he is when sleeping, in the morning you'll probably wake up with his head on your shoulder and an arm over your torso. You won't get a reaction from him when he wakes up like that, but be convinced that deep down he starts thinking about how he really had a good sleep next to you.

Eustass Kid

- "Sucks for you to sleep on the floor tonight."

Kid will blurt out casually, at the sight of the single bed in the room. He bets that you think he's joking when in reality he's serious. But it turns out that you're serious too, not laughing or whatever.

- Once he sees you being serious, not having it, and frowning at him, his expression drops as he realizes that you'll probably have to share the bed. Oh shit. Kid freezes for a good minute then he snaps out of it and tries to act cool and unfazed but you can notice a blush on his face. Don't you dare point it out.

- As you both go to bed, he looks so grumpy and annoyed although, he makes sure you have enough space to be comfy and throws the only blanket totally over your body.

- He falls asleep the first. But if not, when Kid thinks you're asleep, he takes a look at your figure next to him and sighs at his impulses. He gives in and scoops closer and wraps his arm around you, doing all of this as gently as he can so it won't wake you up. If you decide to remain silent, that's perfect. If not, he'll quickly argue that you looked cold and shout to stop smirking like an idiot at him.

- This man snores, sorry about that. But give him a gentle push or a tug and the snoring somehow stops. Also, he forgets to wish you goodnight, he just falls asleep so abruptly. You two might talk before sleep and suddenly when you ask him something, he won't respond anymore, not because he doesn't want to but because he already fell asleep.

- In the morning, you'll have to wake him up because he also sleeps very deeply. It's going to be a challenge since he's all over you.

Charlotte Katakuri

- "You will take the bed."

It's the only thing he says at first, calmly, not even considering his comfort for a second or the possibility of you wanting to share a bed with him.

- You'll have to convince him to sleep together in the bed for his good as well and that will take a while. Good luck. However, when he gives in and realizes that he will sleep next to you, something in him warms up.

- Even after that talk, he is still tempted to ask if you're alright with sharing a bed but he stays silent. Mainly because he wants to keep his composure and secondly because he starts to warm up to the idea.

- No blanket? No problem. If you look cold, he'll put his scarf over you and maybe his vest. His body temperature is naturally high. He won't embrace you because he wants to be respectful. (this brings me to the next hc)

- He tries so much to take as little space as he can on the bed but his large frame makes it so very uncomfortable. Doesn't say a word about it, not complaining. It makes you feel a little bad. However, in the morning, you somehow wake up on top of his body, and his arms wrapped around you keeping you there like you're the most precious thing in the world. And you are to him, he just didn't get to tell you that yet.

- He is the type to jolt a bit because of falling asleep too abruptly.

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #law trafalgar #eustass kid #charlotte katakuri #one piece hc #one piece headcanons #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kid x reader #katakuri x reader #one piece requests

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cosmos-coma · 3 months

Text

My Sun, My Star- Part 2

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7476 (whoops)

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.

Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!

________

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”

He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return.

“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.

“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.

Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door.

“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.

As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk.

“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder.

“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders.

“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”

“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway.

“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-”

“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise.

“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?”

----

You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.

Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms.

“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.

You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly.

Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back.

“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him.

“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.

“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….” The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed.

He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.

“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.

“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“

“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….

“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“

“But I-“

“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….”

You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’ you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not?

You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.

“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…”

“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Doll, I’m sorry-”

“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later.

“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.

Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.

You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be.

You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same.

You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return….

When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner.

Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence.

A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast.

“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.

“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in.

“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…”

“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”

“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering.

“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.

Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”

You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?

You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you.

But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset.

“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.

You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”

Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”

“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful.

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?”

“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.”

You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”

“I told you…He was different last night, he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.

You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air.

Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”

Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends.

Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”

You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”

“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained.

You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin.

You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you.

“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another.

Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.”

You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding.

This was it.

--------

Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time. ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.

“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.

“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops.

Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-

The apartment.

Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.

“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.”

Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago.

“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.

“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out.

“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries.

“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.

“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.”

Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with.

You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.

Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward.

“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy.

His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart?

He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.

You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg.

“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost.

You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers.

“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react.

You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last.

After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid.

‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘

With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.

Silence.

You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?”

Quiet.

Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more.

With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.

---------

Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known.

The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes.

“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed.

Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at.

He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly.

Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling.

“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running.

Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?

He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.

Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.

He would take care of you.

“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.

Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.

What did he do to you…?

-----

You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry.

You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”

“It’s Bucky…”

You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you.

“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied.

As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do.

“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.

“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you.

He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away.

“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”

But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.

“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles.

Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.”

You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.

You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.

As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.

Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing.

He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it.

You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction.

Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze.

“He…”

Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.

“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.

“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…”

Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you.

The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg.

He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you.

When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room.

Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence.

“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”

“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.”

Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space.

“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…”

“Doll…”

“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.

“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...”

“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”

_____________

Bucky Taglist:

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thanks to everyone who wanted to be tagged this chapter! If you want to be added to the general Bucky taglist please just let me now!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier!bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier imagine

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punching-pentagrams · 3 months

Text

Love In a Hopeless Place

Chapter 2

Here we are with chapter 2! Lucifer and reader meet, enjoy! xoxo, Dany :)

Word Count:5.2k (I'm so sorry, lol) CW: Trauma, panic, flashbacks, Smut(ish/mostly lead up), angst, comfort, sub/dom dynamics, prostitution, anxiety, depression

Lucifer was in his study working on another one of his many rubber duck creations when his phone started to buzz on the desk with a text message. He jumped a little with a small 'Ah!' at the vibration, and the duck flew out of his hands and into one of the many piles of ducks that filled the room.

"Shit, welp... not finding that one anytime soon", he said running his fingers through his hair while looking out at the sea of ducks, before turning his attention to his phone.

The preview of the text from his driver on the front screen read, "On our way back with our guest." Lucifer stared at the text, and his stomach immediately tightened with... excitement? Anxiety? Was he going to throw up- no he was fine... Right? Yes. No? Fuck. Why did this feel so scary?

Lucifer did not know what he we feeling, he just knew he only had a few minutes before his guest for the evening would arrive... and he had no idea what he was doing. Lucifer started pacing and pulling a little at his own hair, starting to stress and talk to himself.

"Should I have been preparing something? Maybe I should clean! No... wait I have people for that... M-maybe I should pick up some of the ducks? Why would I need to pick up the ducks? Maybe she would want to see the ducks? Lucifer, why would a prostitute want to see your stupid rubber ducks?!" Lucifer said as he paced back and forth on want little open floor space their was in the room, before he stopped, took a breath, and smoothed back his hair and tried to breathe.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm cool. I'm fine." he said as he rolled his shoulders and straightened his bowtie as he walks out of his study and back down the hall to his room. "I'm the King of Hell, and I'm the customer. Who cares? I'm sure girls all over Hell would be dying for the chance to take care of and service me. She is the lucky one here that I even get to grace her presence!" He stopped in front of the mirror in his room, popping on his hat and grabbing his cane before posing in the mirror and flashing a toothy grin at himself.

Lucifer looks over his own reflection in the mirror, and the longer he stared, the more his smile faded and his shoulders slumped. He wrapped his arms around himself in a half self-hug, "So then... why do I feel like... such a loser?"

______________________________________________________________

The car soon pulls up to a big beautiful manor and parks, the driver gets out and comes to open your door, offering you a hand to help you out.

"Thank you," you say with a sweet and flirty smile as you grab the man's hand and step out of the car. You try hard to hold your confident expression and stifle your surprise as you get out and see your new surroundings, looking around admiring the beauty. Your normal cantor you use with most clients suddenly feels like it might be inappropriate here, so you hold your tongue.

Internally, though, your thought process runs wild, 'Whoa, wait, what the fuck? I've worked for some high rollers before, but this... this feels like its on an entirely different level.... Who the fuck is this guy?'

The driver breaks your slight panic as he gestures for you to follow him. You are escorted up the front steps and into the front entry way past the giant ornate front doors. In the front room off to one side were a few red chairs and a couch with gold trim, all centered around a white marble coffee table. The driver gestures towards the seating, "Please, have a seat while I inform your host that you have arrived."

You curtsy in respond because you were starting to feel like that was the right response for this type of place, and watch as the man turned and started to walk down the hallway. You go to sit on one end of the red couch, damn it was a nice couch, and you start to look at the room around you. You're inner voice continuing with the general track of 'What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? How is this place even bigger and nicer on the inside?!' playing in your head.

Who could this be? This guy is crazy well off, seems to like red, white, and gold, it was everywhere in the decorations. Also he... had good taste in decorations. It looked way nicer here than anywhere else you had ever seen in hell. Not just because of the amount of money in the place, but also because of how the design felt. It almost felt like a slightly edgier version of what you would expect buildings to look like in heaven. Lots of little details and motifs in the crowning on the walls and art around the manor. Lots of stuff like apples, snakes, little things that looked like angel wings-

Your thought process freezes as the puzzles start to fall together into an answer.

Wait.

Apples?

Snakes?!

ANGEL WINGS?!

You start to shake a little and fidget with your dress a little. You may have not been in hell long, but there were some things you pick up on quickly, even in new places. 'There is noooo way. That's impossible. Right? Where were other people who are known for that symbology... right... Who else in hell...? Maybe it's someone you just don't know? Uhhhh.... Oh! Wasn't he married? Well... that doesn't mean anything half of the time, you've fucked married guys. More importantly, if this is who I think it is... what would the LITERAL KING OF HELL, need a call girl for? No, there is no way it could be him, that would be stupid...'

Then, you hear a cane start to tap down the hallway, and time feels like it slows down. You turn to look in the direction of the sound, and down the long manor hallway, you can make out the unmistakable features of Lucifer, the fallen angel, the King of Hell himself, followed by his driver. You feel your skin grow hot and your heart rate pick up as you swallow hard, watching him approach.

He was... much softer looking than you expected. Many of the angelic features were still present, pale near-white skin, golden blonde hair, soft facial features, and they mixed in well with his more demonic features, red and gold eyes, sharp grin, and dark ashy claws that held his signature apple cane. You'd seen his face on magazines and maybe once on tv, but now upon seeing him in the flesh, you realize that pure imagines didn't seen do him any justice.

You realize you have less than a few seconds to calm yourself and get ready to make a first impression. You take a deep breath, let it out, straighten yourself in your seat and think, 'He's just another client, that's all I need to focus on. My goal is to fulfill his wishes'.

As he gets a few feet closer you stand, and curtsy with a confident smile on your face. "Your majesty, what an unexpected surprise this is. Oh, I apologize, I mean... Lance."

Lucifer responds with a hearty chuckle before putting up a hand, "No need for formalities or code names here. Just Lucifer is fine. You must be (y/n)?" he says as he starts to examine the woman in front of him up and down.

You straighten up from your curtsy and place a hand on a slightly popped hip as you look at Lucifer, "I am, and I am honored to be serving you tonight."

The driver comes up and asks for your coat. You slip it off as elegantly as you can, fully aware that your show for Lucifer had already begun, and handed it to the driver. He tells you where he will be when you and the master have concluded your visit for the evening, puts up your coat in a nearby closet, and walks into another room close to the main door, and closes the door behind him.

Lucifer watched the sultry way you slipped off your jacket, and the alluring dress that was revealed from beneath it. Simple, black, sleeveless, a v shaped neck line that showed the perfect amount of cleavage, hugged your body in all the right places, and also allowed for a long slit that showed off plenty of the soft skin of your leg. The woman before him was beautiful, but in a way he didn't expect. Not in a "porn star, big boobs, stereotypical bimbo" kind of way, but in a soft... normal kind of way. It made him feel a little calmer in a way. A couple new emotions started to join the mixture that swirled in his stomach, curiosity, amusement... lust... Nothing had even happened yet, and Lucifer could already start to feel heat start to rise around his collar.

You and Lucifer where now completely alone in the main area of the manor.

You turn back to see Lucifer eyeing you. You smile.

"You like what you see, Lucifer?" you purr as you take a few steps towards him.

Lucifer shifts a little as he stands as his cheeks tint pink, feeling almost guilty for being caught staring, before remembering he was allowed to, "Oh uh... y-yes. Yes, I do." He says, returning to his curated confident grin.

You giggle, stepping closer and offering your right hand to him, which he takes with his right hand, "I am yours for the night to use as you see fit" you say with a sly flirty smile.

'Fuck, I hope this is coming off ok', you think to yourself.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' Lucifer thinks, trying to will his cheeks into not turning a darker shade of pink, 'Oh she is VERY good, and I am very out of practice.'

Lucifer returns the sly smile, "Oh I intend to." he says looking you up and down again as he kisses your hand.

'Fuck, he is good', you think at the same time.

Lucifer continues to hold your hand as he turns in closer to your right side, looping your hand under his left arm so that you and now holding it, and he looks at you with a "Shall we then?" before he starts to escort you further into the manor.

As you start to walk through the manor with Lucifer, this is when you really notice how he was a bit shorter than you expected, especially with the heels you were wearing. Nothing wrong with that, just not something you expected. He was a cutie, and you were excited that you were going to be able to help make him feel good that night. Honored even.

Lucifer felt transfixed by every inch of sensory that came from being in contact with you, the way your hand held onto the sleeve of his jacket, the way you would shift against him as you walked, the smell of your perfume, it was borderline intoxicating. His brain was running a million miles a minute between your touch, smell, what he would say next, what would happen when you both got to his room, how he wanted to keep himself from turning into the room and immediately pouncing on you. He felt like he might lose his mind.

All you could see of Lucifer was a sly grin and a confident walk towards his room.

The two of you entered Lucifer's large bedroom and you let go of his arm so that he could go to close the door behind you. He put down his cane, and started to undo the clasps of his suit jacket. You walked up behind Lucifer as he finished the clasps, slid your hands over his shoulders, hooking your fingers under the collar.

"May I?" you cooed softly in his ear.

He gulped and nodded as you glided it off his shoulders and down his arms, trying as best you can you make sure your fingers made contact with his arms as much as possible.

Lucifer had to fight a soft moan from escaping his throat at your touch. You deviously smiled to yourself behind Lucifer at the sound of his stifled moan as you took the jacket and carefully hung the jacket off the side of his mirror. You turned back around to see Lucifer taking off his hat and setting it down on a nearby surface, trying hard tame the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, a visible bulge starting to form in his pants.

Seeing the King of Hell's eyes hunger for you gave you a devious idea to try. 'I wonder what role he likes to play?' you think to yourself.

You chuckle, and start to walk a circle around Lucifer, eyeing him back as if he was your prey, which makes Lucifer swallow hard again and make him lose a little of his edge, less of a dominant energy and leaning more submissive as he watched you circle him.

'Interesting', you think.

"Tell me. Do you prefer to lead, or follow?" you ask with a coy smile.

Lucifer thought for a moment, what did he usually do with Lili- errr... in the past? He liked not having to think. Not having to lead would be really fucking nice actually.

"Follow", Lucifer said in a soft tone. This didn't surprise you, most powerful men wanted a break from it in the bedroom, from your experience. Getting to order Lucifer around was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it got you excited just thinking about it.

You gave Lucifer a wicked smile before slinking up to him, softly grabbing his chin, getting your face very close to his before whispering, "Boots off. On the bed. Now."

Lucifer's heart beat started to pound in his ears as he took a moment as he processed the words, a shiver of pleasure jolting through his body, before quickly moving to throw off his boots and crawl onto his bed. He knew nothing in the moment beyond following your command. Lucifer got into place and then looked over at you, waiting for your next order for him.

'Fuck that was hot' he thought as he felt the heat spread across his chest.

You look towards Lucifer, turning you body to face him in his new position on the bed. You smirk and start to slowly slink towards him, making sure to roll your hips with every step to emphasize your curves, staring at him with your own hunger eyes.

Lucifer sat, transfixed by the way your hips swayed from side to side, the way your eyes felt like they were burning into his soul, his cheeks burning read. No thoughts existed in his head at that moment besides the thought of your curves coming towards him and the way that his cock throbbed for you in his pants.

You sat yourself on the end of his bed and kicked up your right leg over the other to unbuckle the clasp on one of your heels, making sure to position yourself so that Lucifer could see more of your leg through the slit in your dress and so that you cleavage showed more prominently from the V-neckline. You look up at him through your eyelashes to see him tremble a little, his breathing starting to labor. Oh lord, you could see just how much he needed this, and that excited you even more.

You finished unclipping your heel and you let it drop to the floor with a light clatter. You straightened up and looked over your shoulder at Lucifer, "Does my good boy want to help me with my other shoe?"

Lucifer gave a little whimper and bit his lip a little as he gave you an enthusiastic nod. He was so cute and desperate, if his tail was out it would probably be wagging.

You move a little closer and kicked your left leg up onto his lap and propped yourself up to watch his work, giving him a quick cheeky look of 'Well? Get to it!'

Lucifer took a few moments to look at the red heel that was connected to the gorgeous leg that now sat in his lap. Lucifer took a breath, and then with trembling hands worked to try undoing the clasp of the shoe. It took a little longer than it took you, but he eventually got the clasp undone and let the shoe slide off the bed to the ground. Lucifer took the opportunity to slowly slide one of his hands up your leg, up to the hem of your dress, and back down in admiration. Holy hell, her skin was so soft and beautiful.

You closed your eyes and hummed softly as you soaked in the sensation of his touch on your skin, "What a good boy you are, Lucifer." You cooed, removing your leg away from his reach. He looked sad for a moment, but it would not be for long. You hooked a leg over his body and got up onto the bed, now straddling his thighs.

A surprised breathy moan escaped Lucifer's lips as you moved onto his lap and he started to dig his claws into his sheets on either side of his body.

You chuckle again before you look down at him from your new position. You had never felt more power than you did right at that moment, and it was beautiful. Seeing the King of Hell under you, desperate for your next command or touch... now that was dangerous.

As Lucifer laid under you, defenseless and breathing heavily, he released his claws from the sheets and lightly picked up the edge of the skirt of your dress on either side of you and held them softly in his hands.

"M-may I?" he asked with pleading eyes, lifting the skirt up a little to show his intensions to remove your dress.

You cross your arms and put a finger up to your cheek in an action pretending to think about, making Lucifer wait.

"P-please?" he said after several seconds, sense of urgency in his voice.

You dropped the act and smirked down at him with a pleased smile and nodded. Lucifer excitedly, but carefully worked to pull the dress off of you and tossed it onto the ground to join your shoes. Lucifer now looked at you and you saw his eyes turn from soft desperation back into a deep animalistic hunger as they raked lustfully down the new view of your body.

You sat proud of yourself as you sat straddled across Lucifer's thighs wearing a deep sapphire blue lacy bra and a matching blue thong that, frankly, served no purpose other than to be something to be ripped off of you.

Lucifer softly ran his claws up your thighs, up your hips, across your abdomen, over your breasts, up your collar bone, other your shoulders, down your arms, and down you your hands, taking in every inch of your body that he could see in that moment. You tip your head back and allow long moan to escape you as his hands glide across your body, soft but electric and hot.

You tip your head back down to look at Lucifer, his hands in yours. You release his hands and start to slide you hands up his chest to his bowtie.

"Alright, baby, your turn," you coo, starting to undo his bowtie. Lucifer began to shake and breath heavily under your touch. You toss the bowtie to the ground, slowly undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing his soft pale neck. You nuzzle your face into his neck and plant your first soft kiss on his neck.

Lucifer responds to the contact with a deep and long moan, he almost couldn't take any more of this torturous, slow teasing. And yet he also felt like he couldn't get enough of it. He felt energetic and alive for the first time in what felt like forever, it was pure bliss. He never wanted it to stop.

You giggle again at his response, and continue to unbutton the remaining buttons down his shirt. You lean down to look into Lucifer's eyes and say "Now Lucifer, I want you to tell me something."

He looks up at you with shiny, lust filled eyes, "Yes?"

"Tell me... what is it that you truly desire?" you say with a smirk, as you continue work on his buttons.

Lucifer thinks for a few seconds, thinking about all of the sexy, blissful ideas he wants to tell you and then... for some reason... he turns his head to the side of his bed... her side of the bed... all of the sound goes quiet, the room starts to go blurry, everything starts to shake, and then...

It all goes dark.

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He no longer feels like he is in his bedroom, its just him... and Lilith... looking at him with her bright smile, before the smile fades, and she turns to walk away into the darkness. Then it's Charlie... happily giggling on his lap, small, clapping at his stories, before Lilith picks her up off his lap and walks out of the room with her. It's his old workshop in heaven full of his wonderful dreams and creations, now a dark red room full of endless piles of ducks. It's giving the apple to Eve, then standing in an arena of the Heavenly Council, and then the deep long fall into hell, watching his hands pale hands turn to claws, watching the white feathers of his transform to turn a deep crimson, his halo shatter into space and long red horns grow in its place on his head before he crashes to the surface of a newly created Hell.

What does he desire? What does he TRULY DESIRE?! He wants back everything he has ever lost! He wants to know why everyone has cast him away and abandon him. He wants to know why everyone had to think his dreams were so fucking dangerous. He wants to remember what it was like to not hate himself so much!

Lucifer pulled at his hair and screamed into the void of his mind as he fell to his knees and cried.

______________________________________________________________

From your perspective, you ask your question, Lucifer's eyes go from full of life and lust to empty, his head tips to the side, and they start to fill with panic as he start to hyperventilate.

You drop your current persona and start to assess the situation. You quickly move off of Lucifer and go to his side instead.

"Lucifer?" No response. "Lucifer? Talk to me, what do you need?"

Something in your voice makes Lucifer snap back from his dissociative nightmare land, but he continues to hyperventilate.

'Fuck! Think! Didn't you learn something about this on earth? '

You think for a minute, shaking your hands as you look around the room, at him, trying to think. You softly take his hand and start gently rubbing the back of it with your thumb. Lucifer snaps to look at you, so quickly, it almost startles you.

"Hey," you say with the calmest and warmest smile you can muster, "I'm here, you are ok. You are safe here with me." Lucifer continues to look at you with panic in his eyes, but with recognition there too.

"I'm a friend, you are at your house, in your bed... in... hell. Uhh... you are in the Pride ring... Nothing is going to hurt you here, you are safe," you continue to say as you continue to rub the back of his had. If you had said half of that sentence back on Earth, it would have probably made things worse, but here... hopefully it would be more grounding.

Slowly, Lucifer breathing slows its pace and he looks around the room more. You look around the room and see a cup on a nearby table.

After waiting a few more minute, you ask, "Do you want any water?" Lucifer thinks for a briefly about your question, and nods his head.

You squeeze his hand and say "I will be right back." You set down his hand, go to grab the cup, and run to the bathroom to fill it with water. You come back to Lucifer's side and give him the cup, Lucifer slowly starts to drink some water as his breathing continues to slow down to a normal rate.

After a few more minutes, he shakes his head.

"Hey," he says in a defeated tone.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you say in a gentle voice, giving him your full and concerned attention.

He sighs, "Not great..." He was so scared, sad, angry, disappointed, full of guilt, shame.

You tip your head down in shame, "I... I'm so sorry." Lucifer looks over at you with a confused look. "I was reckless and I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me, your Highness?" Now it was you that was starting to shake a little.

Lucifer sighs, the guilt coming to the front the most out of all his current emotions. How could he explain to you just how wrong you were? But he could understand why you would think that. In his current state, he could only partly process how differently you now tended to him, how you looked at him. Almost like, you cared? That you were worried about him?

He gently put a hand on your head "Please, Lucifer is still fine, and this was not your fault, it.... it's complicated. I... thought I was ready for something like this, I was hoping I was. A small baby-step to moving forward, but no..." Lucifer tightened his left hand. "I'm not"

You looked up and his tightened hand, and for to first time noticed the gold band on his ring finger. This was not the anger and sadness of a happily married man, or even an unhappily married man, this was something... much more complicated.

You sat with Lucifer in mournful silence for what felt little forever, but it was probably not more than a few minutes.

Eventually, Lucifer sighed and broke the silence, "You should go..."

You looked up at Lucifer, whose head still hung in shame, his hand gripped tightly.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly.

Lucifer shrugged, "I'm not going to be much fun now, I don't think I'm cut out for this. Not yet anyway. Its me not you, trust me. You were amazing... it was fun while it lasted" He looked up at you with a weak smile, "You should try to enjoy the rest of your night while you can. No use letting and old sod like ruin your night."

You look down at your dress and shoes still on the floor, you sigh, pick up your dress and put it back on. You pick up your shoes and start to head to the door. You put your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it, wish the King goodbye, and walk away... but you don't. You stand there for a second.. thinking.

Lucifer noticed you pause, and looks up at you. You turn back to meet his gaze, his face decorated in a look of half confusion, half sadness.

"May I offer one last thought?" you ask with calm confidence.

Lucifer tips his head in curiosity, "What is it?"

You take a couple step back towards him, "I wonder... I think... you had the right idea with searching for intimacy, connection, but maybe we started in the wrong direction."

Lucifer cocks an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look, "I'm... not sure I follow."

You search again for the right words, "I mean like... uhhh... well... ok, when was the last time you just got a hug, not like a quick one, like one that made you feel cared about?"

Lucifer's body stiffened, then looked down and curled his legs close to his body, "It... its been... a long time."

You smile, and take another step towards Lucifer, and you open up your arms to him with a soft smile.

Lucifer looked up at you and perked up for a minute. Was she serious? Why did she continue to try? Why didn't she leave him to his own misery? She didn't need to care about his feelings right now... and yet... she did.

Lucifer slowly started to slide out of his bed, shirt still most of the way unbuttoned, hair all a mess, and started to walk over to you. When there was only a few feet left between the two of you, Lucifer paused, and then practically ran the rest of the way into your arms and wrapped himself around your waist, as you return the embrace.

You stand there, hugging him for a minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, and after the first few minutes, you feel Lucifer start to shake in your arms as he started to cry. Lucifer tightened his embrace around you the harder he cried, burying his face in your shoulder. At one point he tries to wail out an apology, but you just shush him and let him continue to cry as you rubbed his back.

After about a half hour of him crying in your embrace, you ask him if he wants to continue standing there or if he wants to sit down. In response, Lucifer releases his arms from you waist and reaches up to wrap his arms around you neck instead. You adjust and decide to just go for it and pick him up, carrying him over to his bed. You sit in his bed with him hugging you around your neck as you hold him in your lap.

Lucifer could not stop the tears that flowed from his face, he didn't remember the last time he had cried this much, cried this hard. And for some reason, in your arms, he didn't care. The tears felt good. Liberating.

You don't know how much time passes, but slowly his crying starts to get quieter and quieter, turning to sniffles, until you realize that the King of Hell had just fallen asleep in your arms.

You carefully move to get up at set him down in his bed without waking him up, and you tuck him into his bed. Before you leave the room, you quickly find a piece of paper and pen, and write out a quick note. You leave the note on his side table before grabbing your shoes, turning off the light, and giving him one last look before closing the door.

You make your way back down the long manor hallway, back to where the driver said he would be, and you let him know your visit was over. You grab your coat, put on your shoes, took one last look at the beautiful inside of the manor, and walked out to the car with the driver.

Who knows if you would be back here again, but it sure was interesting while it lasted.

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Chapter 3 is in the works! Let me know if you want added to a tag list <3

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n

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