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eddies-house · 8 months

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Smoke Signals

Chapter Five - Cold Eggs

W/C: 6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mentions of drinking

Some early morning honesty on the rocks. Eddie is fucked. In every sense other than literal.

A/N: I'm getting giddy over these two please tell me yall feel the same

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The Munson bachelor pad wasn’t as boyish and messy as you initially thought. You were sober enough to make that observation. It was cozy, much like your own home and was around the same size. The kitchen was probably the messiest part of it however you didn’t get a peek at the bedroom which you assumed could also be very disheveled. There were cereal boxes left open on the counter, Cocoa Pebbles being the one that caught your eye along with a neglected box of Rice Krispies that laid on its side.

A few too many pots and pans cluttered the stove top and some empty cans of soup and Spaghettios were left to collect dust near the sink. His refrigerator held a collection of magnets, some being letters from the alphabet, although quite a few were missing, and others were ads from a pizza place and a few fruits and vegetables with cartoony faces. Among the mess on the counters, you also noted a few empty liters of soda and some crushed beer cans. Budweiser to be specific.

Other than that, the living room you’d been sitting in was tidy. There was a clearly used checkered blanket bunched up on the corner of the couch you’d been occupying for the past several minutes and a few car catalogs littering the coffee table along with a copy of Lord of the Rings, bookmarked with a coupon for ground beef clipped from the local ads. Next to that, an ash tray nearly overflowed.

His wallpaper wasn’t as ugly as yours, which you envied. It was maroon with even darker stripes alternating, creating a dark but homey atmosphere. The wall sconces on the other hand, we’re tacky. They looked more medieval than anything, almost like torches. The light wood floors contrasted with the walls and at your feet was a frayed rug that looked like it had seen better days. Not dirty, just tattered.

In the corner sat an acoustic guitar painted with the words ‘this machine slays dragons’ and next to it was an electric guitar, red with cracks of black. You’d never seen one like it before and it seemed to be well loved from what you’d heard every day, the endless guitar solos bleeding into your eardrums daily. At least he was getting his money's worth out of it.

You continued eyeing your surroundings, taking in the habitat that was Eddie Munson’s home when your gaze lands on a particular object that piqued your interest. It sat atop a shelf near the door, a lonely Garfield mug.

Before you could further examine the mug or even think of reasons as to why it was displayed, if it was even displayed, or perhaps it was abandoned in a hurry out the door, Eddie emerges from the bathroom just off the living room. His curls are now wet ringlets toward the bottom, and instead of wearing your puke, he wears a red sweatshirt that reads ‘Indianapolis, Indiana’ on the front along with some baggy black sweats. Despite his comfy clothes, his face is still decorated with that grouchy frown you’d grown used to. Did this man ever relax his face? His eyebrows were still pinched together either in thought or in irritation.

“I-um, I’ll wash the shirt and um the–the boots.” You stutter, rapidly standing from your perch at the edge of his couch.

Though still a little tipsy, more coherent thoughts flooded your mind. Guilt plagued you as you thought about the blanket of barf that coated his shirt and boots about a half hour earlier, abandoned on the front porch. You were smart enough to avert your gaze when he lifted his shirt off of his torso just to let it wrinkle up on the wood planks to be dealt with later. It wasn’t your fault that you’d caught a glimpse of the tattoos that adorned his body, some kind of dragon if you remember correctly, wound from his waist up to his ribs. The others you didn’t have long enough to distinguish their imagery, though there were several along with what appeared to be some scarring of some kind. You couldn’t be sure, the darkness from the night not allowing you a clear picture along with your hazy mental state.

“Don’t worry about it.” He dismisses while you bashfully sit back down on the edge of the couch.

It was hard to grasp whether he was pissed at you or just at life in general. You would take full responsibility for the vomit but everything before that was on him. Yelling at you over a pile of broken plates seemed far more degrading based on his tone, the way he reprimanded you and painted you as this stupid girl, unable to stand your ground. Maybe it was better that he fired you, you wouldn’t be subject to his obnoxious mood swings where he seemed to take everything out on you when shit hit the fan.

You continued watching Eddie move about his surroundings, taking in how he interacted with his day to day environment. What did he look like fully relaxed? Lounging around, playing his guitar without a care in the world. It was difficult to picture; the image of a moody man with a tensed facial expression the only one you could seem to conjure up every time rather than the vision of him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, enjoying coffee out of that stupid Garfield mug. You wonder if takes his coffee with cream and sugar. Maybe just cream? Or just sugar? Maybe he drinks it black, that would be the most sensible option if you were going by his grouchy nature.

“Gonna find my keys, then we’ll go back to the bar to get yours.” Eddie decides, shuffling through some items on the kitchen counter.

The irony.

Agreeing with a hum, you allow yourself to lean further into the couch while trailing your finger over the faded plaid pattern, lines of beige crossing over white that temporarily held your focus. The clinking of empty beer cans against the linoleum counter can be heard, and then footsteps into the bedroom just off the living room to your left. Two idiots with misplaced keys under the same roof.

It feels as if the couch begins to mold around you, welcoming you into its springy cushions that otherwise wouldn’t be very comfortable but considering the night you had and the state you were in, you felt like you were on a cloud. Your thoughts drift back to curious visions of Eddie. What did his hair look like first thing in the morning? Was it as wild as you imagined? Curls sticking up every which way, frizzy and matted? Or was it somehow still perfectly messy? Boyishly messy.

Did he take those chunky rings off every night, leaving them on his nightstand until the morning? How many more tattoos did he have? What movies did he watch? What did he do for fun? You suppose plucking at his guitars was a main contender with the way it would constantly invade your ears. Obviously he read, your eyes catching that copy of Lord of the Rings on the coffee table again. Maybe he worked on cars too, based on those car part catalogs.

The image of him working under the hood of a car, all sweaty in some kind of tank top occupied your brain, his usually tense face hard at work with grease smeared along his cheek. And his hands. His hands would be coated in oil and he’d pull a rag out from his back pocket to wipe them off. Then he’d smile and reveal those deep dimples framing his face so perfectly. And then you would–

“Uh, Bambi?”

Eddie’s voice doesn’t do much other than cause you to stir in your sleep, snuggling a pillow while curling into yourself. You were nearly drooling, completely content. He couldn’t help but stare a little longer than necessary before realizing what a creep he was being. Was he supposed to wake you? If he was, he felt wrong doing so with how peaceful you looked. He rolled his eyes but truthfully, he didn’t mind having a guest for the night.

Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep for once.

–

Tossing around as the springs beneath you squeak, your mouth feels like it had previously been filled with sand. Not an ounce of saliva coated your tongue, you were severely dehydrated. You flung the knitted blanket that had rested on top of you off–when did that get there? You don’t remember grabbing a blanket before drifting off into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t even your house.

Collecting your thoughts, you recall that you had been sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch before apparently falling asleep. It was still dark outside, signifying that it had to be early in the morning which meant you’d only slept for maybe two or so hours. A lamp set atop a beat up side table in the corner was the only thing illuminating the room now. Sitting up and stretching, your bones ached from the way they were piled on top of each other in the position you had been sleeping in. Your right arm had pins and needles running up and down it from being cut off from circulation for so long.

The groan that threatened to escape you was held in your throat as you scooted forward, only to find a full glass of water right there on the coffee table. This was beyond embarrassing, this was humiliating. If you could scurry out the door and across the yard back to your place you would, but you were in this predicament due to your own negligence.

With no other options available to you, you gulp down the lukewarm water, just grateful that your tongue was no longer dryer than the Sahara desert. But it still wasn’t enough. Your thirst seemed unquenchable, at this rate you’d need approximately five more glasses. So you stood yourself up, legs shaky and stomach a tiny bit queasy, and wobbled over to the kitchen. You’d have to pace yourself to avoid throwing up a bunch of water since your stomach was so sensitive right now. Food was out of the question but water was a necessity.

Twisting the sink handle with a small screech of the metal, you fill the glass with a shaky and weak arm before sipping away.

Slowly. You remind yourself.

It must have taken around eight minutes to finish that second glass of water, coaching yourself through it the entire time. You grew tired of drinking it but persisted anyway. As you reach to fill a third glass, you’re startled by a figure in the doorway to Eddie’s room, unable to make out any features in the dim lighting. With a yelp, you manage to drop the glass in the sink, it clanking around noisily but thankfully, not breaking.

“Shit, why are you awake?” Eddie asks, hands raised in surrender as he emerges from the shadows.

“Why are you awake?” You counter.

He raises a brow, clearly wide awake. He didn’t even have that gravelly, sleepy voice. Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep at all. There was no evidence that his hair was any frizzier than before and his face didn’t have that puffiness to it when you wake up. It’s also possible that he just looked perfect when he woke up but if you’re being honest, no one really woke up perfect.

“I, uh, I was reading.” He admits, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence trickles in, causing you to cross your arms as a means to close in on yourself, steadily backing up until you hit the counter behind you. Eddie maintains eye contact with you as he retrieves his own cup from one of the cabinets, filling it up and chugging it down with ease. You suddenly feel so out of place, like you were supposed to leave but there was nowhere else to go.��

“I, um, I’m sorry for…for the puke. A-and for falling asleep. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You tell him honestly.

He only nods.

“I can go…sit on my porch until you go into the bar. And I’ll get my keys and be out of your hair.”

A few drops of water roll down his chin as he continues drinking, the back of his hand coming up to swipe the liquid away. He appears to be lost in thought, eyes concentrated on the counter in front of him where a few rogue Rice Krispies live. You let your legs carry you a few feet away, your goal being the front door until he speaks up again.

“I’m not gonna be responsible if you get eaten out there.” He grumbles.

“Eaten?”

Eddie looks you up and down as if to say ‘are you serious?’. To be completely honest, you hadn’t taken into account the wildlife that thrived throughout the area before you moved in. Now you were looking more and more dumb by the minute.

“Bears?” He offers an anxious head tilt. “We have fucking bears here, Bambi. You can’t just wander around in the middle of the night.”

“I wouldn’t be wandering.” Why were you trying to make an argument? Out of all the things you could fight him on, why were you choosing whether or not you’d get eaten by a bear? “I would be sitting on my porch.”

You felt like the dumbest woman on the planet and you knew you should’ve stopped talking but the words just…came out.

“Bears can reach your fucking porch, you know that, right?”

His large eyes bored into you in disbelief, his mouth slightly hung open as he awaited your answer.

“Y-yeah.” You gulp.

“God.” He scoffs, turning away from you, perplexed before muttering something under his breath that you happened to also catch. “Christ, they shoulda turned you away.”

“Who?” You pipe up, feeling a bit daring.

For a moment, he turns to stare at you blankly. It’s almost as if you’re the only two people awake and if either of you happened to raise your voice in the slightest, it would awaken the town.

“The assholes that sold you that house.” He just about whines, his voice an octave higher, frustration obvious in his tone.

The refrigerator light briefly appears over the blue and green tiled floor as Eddie opens it, reaching for something before turning around toward the stove and kicking the door shut.

“What–what do you mean? Turn me away? What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask in offense.

“I mean…” He cracks an egg into a pan, followed by another. “They shouldn’t have sold it to someone so clueless.” Another egg.

The shells are discarded in the sink, further cracking into smaller pieces at the impact he’d thrown them.

“What? Were they just supposed to reject me until someone more ‘qualified’ came along?” You try to catch his gaze, ducking your head as he reaches for the salt and pepper. “And–are you seriously making eggs right now?”

You earn a scowl from him as his pan begins to sizzle, his hand quick to grab a spatula from one of the pots on the stove to flip the eggs. This had to have been some weird dream or manifestation. And there they were again, those three numbers falling from his lips in a whisper as his eyes shut temporarily while his eggs simmered.

“I was already qualified before you came along!” He raises his voice, not quite to a yell but not very quiet either.

Silence.

Your eyes must have bulged out of your head, Eddie’s features softening by the second. Regret settled in his eyes, your face the vision of pure horror and all because of him.

He got impatient.

His therapist would be disappointed in him. And so would Wayne.

“I-I just…I was going to, um…” He starts calmly. “I was gonna buy it. And, and I was—” His breathing is now shallow, his eyes wet and pleading. “It–it was–I don’t–”

“Eddie.” You whisper, trying to break through whatever trance he was in.

He seemed stuck in his own head, eyes darting back and forth while he struggled to find words. The eggs were on the verge of burning which prompted you to reach over him and turn the stove off. The spatula he previously held clung against the tile.

“I-I–um, I was–”

It’s as if he isn’t even in the room, totally removed as the same few syllables fell from his tongue.

“I’m–I-I–”

“Eddie, it’s okay.” You attempt to soothe him. “Do you wanna sit down?” You ask, trying to catch his eyes but failing as he squeezes them shut.

Again with the counting.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

All under his shaky breath.

“I-I’m fine. ‘M fine.” His voice cracks, eyes opening timidly.

When you go to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinches, a gasp leaving his lungs. Forcing yourself a few steps backward in order to provide him the space he needs, you recognize a hint of fear within him. It’s not of you, it’s something else yanking at his thoughts.

“Sit down, let’s sit down, okay?” You instruct, gradually lower yourself, waiting for him to follow your actions.

Nodding, he slowly slides his back down the side of the counter, falling into a position where his knees were to his chest, hands resting against the floor. You join him, still keeping your distance but wanting him to know that despite the previous tension, you were being supportive through his episode. Whatever it may be.

“Breathe.” You tell him, just as he had done with you back at the bar. “In…and out.” You encourage him.

He follows, his breathing still labored but improving. Continuing for a minute or so, his shoulders finally loosen up, his face relaxing. You let him guide the situation from here, if he wanted to talk or remain mute. Either was okay.

Moments pass, the hard kitchen floor causing you discomfort that you willingly take, not daring to shift around too much as to keep the tranquility finally falling over the two of you. Instead, you take interest in the wood grain of the cabinets, eyes wandering around each curve like a maze, sometimes identifying shapes along the way. A dog’s face, a ghost, and occasionally the haunting silhouette of a human.

Sneaking a glance at Eddie, you find that his eyes are shut as he rests his head against the cabinet behind him, his hands fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie, tying little knots and then undoing them just to repeat the process. Your watch indicates that it’s 4:03 AM. You would usually be sleeping however you can’t really offer yourself much sympathy when it seems this is the norm for Eddie. He always had tired eyes though you’d never put much thought into it until now. He must not be sleeping. Which could also be a contribution to his moodiness.

“I’m gonna lose the bar.” Eddie speaks up from beside you, eyes still shut as he continues to fidget.

“Hm?” You turn your full attention to him.

There’s a pause, a moment of thinking. You can tell as he opens his eyes and side-eyes you, not with malice but more so to collect his thoughts. Lips pinched in between his teeth roughly, you could almost wince at the way blood surfaces from the poor abused skin. Not too obvious, but obvious enough as you await clarification, the tiniest bit of crimson seeping out from behind his teeth only to be left to dry out on his perfectly shaped lips. Then he breaks the silence with a heavy exhale.

“I, uh, I’m pretty close to losing it. Can barely pay the bills on the damn place. Been going downhill for a few months now.” He elaborates, spinning a ring around his finger repeatedly . “I was gonna use the rest of my savings that my grandpa left me to buy that house. Rent it out. I talked to a friend who’s really good with all that financial shit and he said I could get a steady income and most likely keep the bar running and profiting again.”

“Oh.” You whisper, a huge sensation of guilt overtaking you.

“Not your fault.” He sighs. “Guess I’ve been kinda taking it out on you.”

Now he avoids your gaze, far more interested in the cracked tile beneath him. A curse can be made out from just under his breath while he buries his head in his hands, running them up and down his face, almost as if to relieve some of his stress but having no such luck. His admission catches you off guard, not at all suspecting that this morning would turn into honesty hour.

“No.” You reply quickly. “I mean…yes. But I-I didn’t know. If I knew–”

“Don’t give yourself a stroke, Bambi.” He cuts you off, turning to look at you. “I’m not proud of how dick-ish I’ve been. It’s nothing personal though.” Eddie confesses, seemingly annoyed with himself.

Sincerity floods his eyes, a cry for help. But how were you supposed to help him? Before you can muster up some kind of response to his almost-apology, he continues.

“I-uh, I just can’t lose this bar. I inherited it from my grandpa and he had been running it for…years.” Behind his persistence, there’s hints of defeat. A bitterness that you’d come to recognize in the last few weeks. “And, uh, I didn’t know ‘im for very long but, I kinda feel like it’s my responsibility.”

“Didn’t know him for very long?” You asked before even calculating the consequences. You had no right to pry into his personal life.

His hands begin to move up and down his shins, a self-soothing gesture from what you can tell. Eddie was very fidgety, and you’d only just started noticing.

“Yeah.” He whispers. “I moved here like four years ago. Some bad shit happened back home and I–” There’s a moment of hesitation, a sudden panic lurking behind his gaze. “I can’t go back.”

You want so badly to ask him where ‘home’ used to be but decide against it. He had already willingly offered you more information than you would have originally been brave enough to ask for.

“Anyway, I never really knew my grandpa until I came here to live with him. He died last year. I’ve been trying to keep things afloat since then.” He explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with a shaky hand.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

Genuine sympathy drips from your voice, the kind that felt like hot honey running down a sore throat during flu season. During the moment it feels…good. Comforting. In the way that only his mother ever was in the brief time they had together. And then the sting returns.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” The walls are rapidly raised once again and god knows when you would get to peek through the cracks again. “We should, uh, we should get to the bar so you can get your keys. And your car.” He suggests, pulling himself up from the floor with a groan.

“Wait–what about your eggs?” You mention, gripping the edge of the counter for leverage as you stand.

The eggs were long forgotten about, now all sad and cold in the pan. Unappetizing. One of the yolks had somehow broken among the commotion of Eddie’s panic and left a disgusting coating around the gaps, that eggy-wet-dog smell nauseating you. They were trash in all honesty but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, quickly lifting the pan and grabbing a fork to shovel them into his mouth.

You can’t fight the urge to stare, cold eggs and runny yolks being tossed into his mouth without a second thought.

“What?” He glances at you in irritation.

“You could’ve at least heated them up.” You complain, nose crinkled in revolt.

He rolls his eyes but his annoyance quickly melts away, a fraction of a playful smirk pulling at his lips, eyes gleaming with something captivating.

–

The scent of tobacco and motor oil invades your nose, the smells of Eddie’s truck, much different than the little pine tree air freshener in the car he’d driven you in last night. The engine rumbles down the road, startling the birds as he drives by. Some kind of guitar riff blares through the radio, his ringed fingers tapping along against the steering wheel. Instead of his sweatshirt and sweatpants, he now wears a long sleeve covered with his leather jacket along with some ripped up blue jeans. As far as you’re concerned, he’s way underdressed for the brisk morning air, only getting colder and colder by the day. Though, he may run hot and the drop in temperature just doesn’t faze him. Even so, it’d make you feel better if he at least put on a heavier coat.

Regardless, you can’t seem to control the shivers that rattle your body, your teeth nearly chattering, jaw clenched tightly. You were mentally scolding drunk-you for forgetting your jacket at the bar and though you were on your way there now, it didn’t do you any good with the way you were practically an ice cube. It was apparent that the heater of Eddie’s truck wasn’t very efficient as the air coming out was slightly warm but not warm enough to relieve the cold nipping at the exposed skin of your arms. You could see your breath, only further reminding you of how cold you truly were.

Attention was the last thing you wanted as you subtly moved your hands that rested politely in your lap, up your arms to offer the tiniest bit of skin-on-skin warmth. Any kind of relief would do. You only hoped he wouldn’t notice as you began to move your hands back and forth as a means to create some friction, more heat.

Buy a large, fuzzy, soft coat, ASAP. You note to yourself.

As a distraction, you begin to identify objects within the truck, a solo game of ‘I spy’ if you will. At your feet, there’s a small crate of cassette tapes. An impressive collection, mainly metal and rock from what you can see. Maybe a few folksy ones behind those based on the labels, John Denver being the one that stood out to you. Then, another car parts catalog on top of the dash. An empty can of Dr. Pepper in the cup holder. Or what you assume to be empty. A definitely empty cigarette carton abandoned in the other cup holder–

“Shit, here.” Eddie says, reaching behind into the back seat only to magically pull out a denim jacket covered in several patches and pins.

Evidently, you weren’t playing it as cool as you thought, clearly somehow exposing that you were in fact freezing. He showed no emotion as he urged the jacket into your reach, eyes still focused on the road. Your hesitation only had him pushing the denim into your hand, wordlessly cautioning you that he wouldn’t have your modesty or insistence that you were fine. Clutching the rough fabric in your hand, you pause to stare at him, as if he was going to change his mind any second. He doesn’t. Only keeps his eyes forward, brows furrowed in that grumpy manner.

His nose is pink again and you were willing to bet that the tips of his ears matched if they hadn’t been hidden by his wild hair. Even his cheeks were dusted with the lightest rosy shade. Fall looked good on him. You couldn’t even imagine how amazing Summer would look on him.

Quickly, you undo your seatbelt and shrug the jacket on. It’s cold from living in the truck all night but warms you up regardless, much cozier than your bare arms out in the open. And it smells like Eddie, a smell you can’t quite pinpoint to one specific thing. A little bit like cigarettes, maybe a hint of cologne, spicy but not overpowering, and a whiff of rubber. It almost smelled like a garage.

The sun was just rising on the horizon, the lake coming into view perfectly as if to put on a show. Hues of orange painted the sky, birds chirping and squawking as they announced the arrival of a new day. An apricot dream accompanied by peachy tones.

–

The Bourbon was a shell of itself at 5:00 AM. The morning was bright and early though the bar wasn’t ready to awaken just yet, not until the evening when it thrived. Until then, it slept peacefully throughout the day, forgotten about until Happy Hour. Ribbons of light snuck in through the blinds, illuminating the smallest sections of the tables and the floorboards.

The lights quickly took over that magical early morning feel as Eddie emerged next to you, hands tucked into his pockets while you scanned the room. And there they were, your keys. Sat right on top of the bar just as you had remembered. Your jacket, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Bummer.

You could’ve sworn you grabbed it from the back lockers before you declared war on Eddie last night. It wasn’t there either, your locker devoid of your belongings other than a pad of paper and a pen.

“Have you seen my jacket?” You ask Eddie, checking the barstools just to be safe. Nothing.

He had slipped right back into work mode, even at the crack of dawn. You suppose it's fair though, the information he had shared with you in the quietest hours of the morning resonating in your mind. Work never stopped for him.

“Hm? No, I haven’t seen it.” He answers, collecting the dirty rags from their designated bin behind the bar to start them up in the wash.

With a soft pout, you trace your steps in your head but can’t seem to recall where you’d left it, your brain failing you. Maybe it would eventually pop up again, it wasn’t anything special anyway. It just happened to be one of the heaviest jackets you owned so you would have to remember to stop by one of the shops to search for something equivalent. Beginning to pull your arm out of the sleeve of the jacket you currently wore, Eddie’s voice stops you.

“Just–keep it ‘til you find yours.” He says. Like he knew.

Were you that obvious? Girl moves to a random town miles and miles away from home only to be unprepared for the weather conditions in which you would think she would be aware of before committing.

“No, it’s–”

You immediately shut up when you see his expression, something that says ‘for the love of god, just listen’ with glaring eyes and furrowed brows. Instead of fighting him on it, you offer your gratitude in the form of labor.

“Um, I could stick around…and help. If you need.”

Your words float in the air, so delicate it makes him want to vomit; not out of disgust but out of confusion for whatever feeling was swirling around in his head, making him dizzy. Each word was too sweet, cavity inducing sweetness that he wanted to lick up like icing. He wasn’t used to being presented with such regard, a candied offer delivered right from your pretty lips to his ears.

“If I still have a job.” You add. Sugary syllables pouring from your lips unintentionally. He may have a heart attack from the amount of sugar.

Eddie collects himself, clears his throat as if to also clear his conscience, not succeeding. You’re so unlike everything that he knows. He knows of friendly conversation and boyish banter, endless nights followed by endless days without sleep, he knows of his shitty attitude that comes around more often than not, but he’s never been one to know pure kindness, a certain tenderness radiating from you and seeping into him. Sure people are kind to him, especially here. But you’re something else.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course you have a job.” He affirms.

The small smile you grace him with makes him want to jump off of a bridge. Because he is such a cruel being, such a monstrous man awaiting further punishment from the universe for being much less than gentle with such a sweet-tempered, sympathetic human that may even be a gift from god himself if Eddie believed in all that.

And then Chrissy crossed his mind. He could not endure another loss. Chrissy was never even his but he used to mourn what could have been had she lived. Perhaps she was his first love. A miserable little middle schooler pining after Hawkin’s Sweetheart all the way up until highschool. And the moment he got close enough, she was gone, right in front of his poor traumatized eyes. It was enough for him to swear off love for good.

For some reason he was finding himself wanting to dial back on that promise. He had only known you for around two weeks and was going back on his own word. It was freaking him out, making him want to yank his hair out from the roots and collapse onto the floor. He felt like a teenage boy again, going through puberty and trying to work out all of his jumbled feelings and hormones.

You were staring at him expectantly and it was only then that he realized he had been lost in thought. A pool of thoughts actually. Maybe even having a revelation?

“You can uh…” He clears his throat, nearly hacking up a lung. “You haven’t…you haven’t eaten, have you?”

Internally, he’s scolding himself.

You’re gonna get hurt before you can even get close. People are not meant to love you, Munson. It’s been proven time and time again. Quit while you’re ahead.

He was too far ahead anyway. Would he ever learn his lesson?

People are not meant to love you.

“No.” You answer sheepishly. “But I-I’m fine!” You try to say convincingly. The reality was that your stomach was swallowing itself, the fact that your dinner had been four tequila shots was not favoring you.

“Bambi.” Eddie says sternly.

God she’s gorgeous.

He was fucked.

“Okay…fine. I haven’t eaten.” You admit. “But I can help out a little and then–”

“C’mon.” He demands, abandoning the bin of dirty rags to head for the kitchen.

And on the way, he reasons with himself as you follow.

Just be friendly. There’s nothing wrong with being friendly. We can be friends. Stop scaring the shit out of yourself. She wouldn’t even like you beyond that. No one would.

“So, what are you feelin’?” He asks, knocking his knuckles against the metal worktop.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. Whatever is easiest. You know what, I can just go get something from one of the shops, I’m sure that little pancake place is open by now.”

“You don’t trust my cooking?” He jokes, amusement written all over his face.

To be fair, he hadn’t given you much reason to trust him since you arrived. But somehow, layers were starting to peel back and you were getting the tiniest glimpses of his true self. And you’d be stupid not to indulge when he had practically propped the door to his mind right open. At least for the time being.

“Should I?” There’s a huge grin on your face, a stupid grin that you try to conceal but can’t. “I dunno, you kind of have me wondering if you’re gonna spit in my food or something.” You quip.

“Ouch.” Eddie feigns hurt by bringing a hand to his chest. “You think I’m that scummy?” He asks, raising his brow playfully.

“Oh, the scummiest.” You banter back.

“You’re breakin’ my heart Bambi.” He frowns before disappearing into the walk-in freezer, discarding his leather jacket on a hook on his way.

Truth be told he was breaking yours too, with his handsome face and his dumb smile, deep dimples you could think about for hours, and those eyes. They told a story, a tragic story that maybe he would never care to share. And that’s what broke your heart. Suffering in silence. You knew that feeling all too well.

“By the way…” Eddie shouts from the freezer before appearing once again. “I’m Eddie.” He sticks his hand out toward you, two eggs held in his free hand.

You look up at him, bewildered.

“I never asked for your name.” He reminds you with a shit-eating grin.

The Eddie you met weeks ago was gone as far as you were concerned. All within a few hours, he seemed to warm up to you.

The scary dog was rolling over…for you.

~end~

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things au #stranger things fic

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mysteria157 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 11

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~16k

CW: just…straight smut, profanity

Summary: Nanami gifts you with something that sets a new course in your life. When confessions are finally laid on the table, you both give in.

Notes: Hi! This is a long one so buckle in. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

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It Had To Be You Masterlist

You watched Rory move another porcelain pillar across his studio to join the others of various height and size. An art exhibit was to be hosted at his studio and he had waited until the last minute to prepare.

“That looks good there. I don’t think we should change anything else.”

You watched him dust off his jeans, brown hands swiping the particles off the denim before he smiled up at you. His two strand twists were pulled up into a top bun, brown eyes filled with joy as he looked around at his finished work. The exhibit was to be held in only two days and he still needed to confirm catering, music, and decorations he had ordered weeks ago.

“Who asked you for an exhibit anyway? This has never happened to you.”

Rory pursed his lips, clasping his hands behind his back before he rocked playfully on his heels before throwing a wide grin in your direction.

“Me. I’ve finally pulled enough sponsors and followers to have something small.”

“Congratulations!”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace as he chuckled into your hair and rubbed your back.

“I’ll be there, I promise. Do you need a guide? Can I help come up with price points? Or I can get out some last minute marketing for you—”

“Honey.”

He smiled down at you and patted the side of your cheek, a familiar gesture of affection he had always cast your way growing up.

“The only thing I want is for you to wear a nice comfortable dress, support me when you can, and look beautiful like you always do.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping away from his laughing form at your annoyance before you folded your arms over your chest.

“It would be a perfect opportunity to really showcase some of your work.”

The sound of that made your throat clench, lips pursing as you tried to push away the nerves in your belly. As if anyone would like your amateur work. Rory had been crafting ceramics for years, and before you were even born.

“I can set up a shelf if you want. Somewhere where not too many will pry—”

“Uncle Rory. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not ready yet. I still have so much to work on.”

He scoffed in response, waving a hand at you in dismissal before flitting his gaze to the layout of pillars.

“Your mother is something else.”

He had muttered it under his breath, but you still caught it, choosing not to respond.

In truth, you had only just recently begun to regain your confidence and footing with ceramics again. The nagging words of your mother had echoed less and less every time you sat at a throwing wheel. But with a growing baby and a new house, you hadn’t really touched anything in the past week.

“Fine, fine. I won’t bring it up anymore. But I still want you there. Wear something nice…bring Nanami too. I know you had your little date yesterday because you look…very relaxed.”

You scoffed, choking on a laugh and blushing fiercely as you smacked your uncle on the arm.

“Nothing happened!”

You watched his shoulders shake in glee as he looked down at you, the teasing glint in his eyes so reminiscent of almost every time he looked at you. Growing up and spending your summers with him, having a place to run to when your mother frustrated you, you had only ever seen him happy or laughing. It was rare to see him annoyed or pensive or even angry; the only times those emotions had ever graced his features was when your mother was either in the room or the subject of conversation.

“All alone with a looker like that?”

He whistled, the noise bouncing off the walls of his empty studio as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Make it make sense. I’m straight as an arrow but…20 dollars is 20 dollars.”

“Stop!” you squealed, face red and throat ripping with giggles as you smacked his arm again. He guffawed, his boisterous laugh practically shaking the walls as he watched you flail about in embarrassment.

You were right though, nothing had happened. At least not really. You had toed that line last night gracefully, letting him ravage you to the point of delusion. Had it not been for your traitorous stomach, you probably would have woken up this morning in his sheets demanding breakfast and tea. He had morphed back into the perfect gentleman you were used to, content to blurt out annoyed comments at the television, fingers still pressing into the sore muscles of your back, peppering your neck with a kiss or two when the thought crossed his mind. Kento was able to put your discomfort on the top of his priority list, his lust tampered and tucked away for another time when it was more appropriate.

After all three episodes of the Kardashians had played and the heaviness of sleep began to settle into your bones, he walked you out to your car so you could go home before your eyes began to droop.

That was all. Nothing too crazy even though you wanted it to be.

But soon. You had promised it to yourself when you brushed your teeth last night and got ready for bed. Soon you would take charge and show him just how insatiable you could be.

“See, you over here thinking about it right now. A shame.”

Rory’s teasing slid through your ears, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your overheated and embarrassed body. You narrowed your eyes at him, sticking your tongue out before whirling around to walk out of the studio.

“It’s in two days! Seven pm, don’t be late!”

****

“So, I haven’t heard from you all day. How long until you tell me how your date went?”

By the time you made it to your house from Rory’s studio, you only had minutes to spare before Ome was making her presence known. You had invited many of your friends over to finally get your house in order.

Originally it wasn’t your plan, but when Gojo heard Nanami and Haibara would be over to finally lay concrete in your studio, he immediately inserted himself. He wanted to ‘use his superior height to hang up pictures and shelves’.

His words not yours. Because he knew wherever you were, Ome would be as well.

Yuji, using any opportunity to spend time with you, insisted on coming over to move the rest of your furniture around.

Ome? Ome just wanted to be around to snoop about your date.

“Stop ignoring me. I’ll keep pestering until you give in.”

You offered her no response, flickering your gaze down to the layout of instructions for the rocking chair that had finally come in the mail. Ome had tried to reach for the box for the baby’s crib, but you had adamantly refused to open it. Based on Kento’s random bouts of slightly less stoic sentiment when he talked about putting together the crib, you gathered he wanted nothing more than to do it himself.

“How big is his dick?”

You rolled your eyes, your gaze still looking down at the instructions.

“Why are you talking like we haven’t had sex before?”

You gestured down to your belly, keeping your eyes on your work as you fastened a wooden leg into a rocker, the dark wood sliding beneath your fingertips.

“You had sex with Nanami when you were both drunk as fuck. Last night was the first time you two fucked free of inhibition. Your hormones are out of control, high libido, everything is sensitive, it’s the perfect opportunity to ride him into submission.”

You sighed slowly, your patience quickly evaporating as she continued to ramble. It was impossible to ignore Ome when she was determined to pry something out of you. It made no sense to withhold anything from her when she could read you like a book upside down, inside out, wet and dirty even on your worst day.

“We didn’t have sex, Ome.”

She scoffed in annoyance, bright silver eyes filling with growing curiosity as she helped you fasten the other side of the rocker. Her kinky locs were pulled away from her chocolate face and into a low bun. She had hidden away her curves in jogging pants and a hoodie, but you were sure the minute Gojo laid his eyes on her, he would make his intentions known until she smacked him across the face.

“You looked hot. Nanami naturally looks like a model so I know he was hot. It was fate. You’ve been trying to climb that quarter of a Danish man for months—”

“He made me a wonderful meal and we made out on his couch and watched the Kardashians. That’s all. I don’t even—we haven’t even talked about what we are.”

She sighed, the peppermint of her gum drifting over to your face and sending small shocks down your spine.

“You two are having a baby together, the correct way to go about a relationship passed a few months ago. You like him, he for damn sure likes you. Be the powerhouse that I know you are and state your intentions. Tell him you want him, drop to your knees and give him that sloppy toppy that will keep him at your side forever.”

You giggled softly, fastening another log in place, your mind running wild with imagination from her words. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to greet him and Haibara at the door, pull Kento by the shirt into your room and throw him on your bed before you fell to your knees and wrapped his cock in your mouth. You didn’t get the chance to that night five months ago, he had knocked away all attempts of you trying to grab at him, redirecting your hands into the sheets to grab and pull as he fucked you with an intensity and sensuality that had you on the verge of tears.

Ome was right though, as much as you wanted to have sex with him, you knew your subconscious would never be comfortable until you at least talked about the state of your relationship. You had both gone from enemies to being bound together by the baby inside of you, to friends who clearly had intense feelings for one another. Everything had moved so fast and out of order.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes blinking back into focus at the mahogany rocking chair leg in your hands. Ome bounded up from the floor and out of the room, leaving you in silence as you fastened the last piece of the chair. You smoothed your hands along the seat, the shiny dark wood reflecting the orb of the light on the ceiling as you pressed against the arm, watching the chair rock back and then towards you again.

Would Kento want something more with you?

You could never ask Ome the question. You could but you would never live down her anger at your stupidity.

Kento had seen almost every rough edge from you. While he didn’t have the opportunity to see you gross from sleep, hot morning breath and snoring, he had been given a front row seat to your fears and vulnerabilities. He had watched you break down and confess why you demanded so much of yourself. He had seen firsthand the effects of your own mother throwing scathing words in your direction and just how deep the trauma in your soul lay hidden.

You couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. You couldn’t want him physically and emotionally but cast him away when things got tough. Not with a baby on the way. You wouldn’t put your daughter through that. You wouldn’t subject her to awkward birthday parties where mommy and daddy were on opposite sides of the backyard glaring at each other.

But you couldn’t stand the thought of choosing to co-parent and watch Kento meet another woman. You couldn’t stomach the idea of having to explain to your daughter that the curvy blonde woman wrapped around her father would potentially be a stepmother.

“Nanami and Haibara are here!”

Ome’s voice rang in your ears, shaking your shoulders back into the present once again in such a small span of minutes. You looked up at the door of the nursery, watching Haibara and Kento come into view as Ome slid past them and began to collect the trash from the floor.

“Thank you for letting me help, y/n!”

Yu, cheerful as always smiled down at you, his almost comically large brown eyes shining down at you before looking around the nursery.

“I’m happy you could come.”

Ome inserted herself before Yu could speak again, holding the trash in her arms as she offered to show him the room that would make up your studio. They both disappeared from the room, their voices slowly decreasing in volume as they walked down the hall and out of earshot.

Kento in his dark jeans and simple white shirt, walked into the nursery, his intense brown eyes analyzing every inch of your work.

“What do you think?”

You let the simple question hang in the room, drifting in the air and through his ears as he admired your partially complete stencil on the wall.

“I think it’s going to look amazing. You already know how I feel about your work.”

You didn’t offer him a response as you watched his form walk slowly around the room, his blond hair was free of product and left to fall free. You had decided weeks ago that you loved it that way. It showed a side of him that you never imagined. Even with his stoic and serious demeanor, the carefree way he let his hair fall around his face made him less intimidating and more vulnerable.

He pulled his gaze away from your work on the wall, turning around to face your form perched on the floor before his eyes landed on the completed rocking chair in front of you. You ran your hands along one of the arms, smiling playfully up at him.

“Not bad huh?”

He hummed in response, the deep sound wafting down to land on your skin.

“How about you model the product for me?”

A large pale hand reached down for you, long fingers flickering back toward himself in a come hither motion and beckoning for you. You took his hand not a second later, letting the warmth bleed into your palm and begin to make its way up your arm as he pulled you to your feet.

You would need a pillow for your back, but the chair was structurally perfect. Large enough to not have your feet drag on the floor when you rocked back and forth, but not too small to squeeze your thighs on the sides.

Kento looked down at you, watching you sway back and forth in the large mahogany chair and basking in the warmth that began to boil in his stomach. You smiled up at him, your gaze free of frustration and worry, a mixture of happiness and mirth filling its place. Your curls were piled messily atop your head, a few tendrils falling to frame your face. Even in your maternity leggings and long blue shirt, he could see the swell of your stomach beneath the fabric, prominent and growing to accommodate the life inside.

It filled him with a sense of emotion he wasn’t expecting. He had long ago accepted the primal feeling of being the cause of another life forming. But he had yet to grasp the random bursts of unbridled happiness when his eyes would land on you when you both were together. He marveled at the way his chest tightened when he found you idly rubbing your belly when you talked. He loved the subtle changes in your form; the roundness of your cheeks and the way you would have to slide your shirt down when it rode too high and exposed the skin of your stomach. Even now as he looked down at you, the sight of a mother rocking in a chair and cradling her stomach, he couldn’t help the picture of their daughter in your arms sleeping on your chest as you rocked her to sleep.

To see you change so much for something else was a beautiful thing. Kento for all of his wit and strength and accomplishments would never know the feel of being so close to a life he had created as it grew.

“I’m going to guess by how much you’re staring that you like what you see?”

Kento chuckled softly, lips curling into a small smile as he chose to gaze at you further instead of offering a response. You bit the inside of your cheek, willing away the blush trying to make its way on your face as you stopped rocking and pulled yourself out of the chair.

“Rory has an exhibit in a few days at the studio. All of his work over the years and he’s pretty excited about it.”

“That is quite an accomplishment. I’ll offer my congratulations when I see him again.”

You opened your mouth, faltering for only a second before you squared your shoulders and harnessed that small reserve of confidence you kept in handy when it came to him.

“I’ll be going, you should come too.”

You fucking idiot.

Analyzing eyes roved over your form, sliding over your skin with an intensity that always made your stomach melt with heat. He closed the gap between you both, crossing the last shred of a boundary you had erected as his chest brushed against yours.

“So, you’re saying we should arrive separately? That’s very counterproductive and not like you at all.”

A pale hand slid around your waist, the familiar warmth of his skin blazing through your shirt and licking up your torso as he immediately pulled you closer to him.

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

His voice was so low, the deep timbre vibrating against you as his tea scented breath washed over your face. You couldn’t smell the familiar cologne on his body even at your close proximity, but you could faintly get a whiff of lavender fabric softener radiating from his white shirt. The feel of the nursery walls against your back shocked you instantly, pushing a shaky breath from your lungs, your blood boiling in your toes and slowly inching its way up your legs.

“You’d have me dress up nice, gel and part my hair, wear those glasses you like so much…but I have to come alone? That’s not very fair.”

“I…I suppose you can come with me then. A date.”

He hummed in agreement before leaning down towards you.

The feel of his lips molding against yours wasn’t new, but it always felt that way. Hot and a little wet but so slow and sensual to the point you felt your heart begin to lurch up into your throat. Even with your limited experience with each other, finding a rhythm was easy because in a matter of seconds, the hand not on your waist had slid up to the side of your neck, titling your head back and allowing him better access. The feel of his tongue sliding against your bottom lip made you gasp, stomach fluttering in anticipation as you opened up more for him and let his tongue slide against yours.

All too soon his lips pulled away from yours, choosing instead to kiss the side of your mouth, the corner of your jaw, the thin skin of your neck before he latched on and began to suck the skin between his mouth, popping the blood vessels to give way to a mark that would surely take days to fade.

You blinked away the thick haze in your head, your vision slowly coming into focus as you looked up in a trance at the ceiling.

“Th-the door is open, Kento. Have some restraint.”

He hummed against your neck, disapproval leeching from his wet mouth and onto your skin. With great strength, he pulled away from your neck and looked down at you instead. His full lips were swollen and slightly red, cheeks holding a hint of ruddiness in color as he breathed heavily against you.

“Then we can go to your room.”

You swallowed down the whine that pressed against the back of your throat and threatened to be let free. His tone was serious and without a hint of teasing, eyes severe but liquid and flowing with heat. You opened your mouth to fight back, eyes blinking rapidly through the increasingly rising lust in your chest.

“Gojo and Yuji will be here soon.”

Kento simply shrugged, radiating indifference as one of his hands stroked your hip, pushing the hem of your shirt up to let his fingers graze against your skin. You found yourself arching your back fractionally, angling your hips just a little closer to him.

“Gojo will be distracted with Omelia and Yuji will be too engrossed on how cement works to care about anything else.”

Another kiss to your lips, quick and wet before the hand on your skin moved further up your back, the miniscule touch arching you a little more into him.

He sighed dramatically, hot breath amplifying the electric currents still zipping through your body.

“Perhaps you’re right. We would be pressed for time.”

Both of his hands cradled your face, tilting your head back again to look up at him before he slotted his lips against yours, kissing you with an intensity that had you struggling to breathe against him. You buried your hands into his chest, fingers curling the soft fabric tightly, wanting him closer but also knowing you wouldn’t have the privacy today that you both craved.

He pulled away with a soft breath before pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Besides, the things I would like to do…I’m sure our friends would be a little mortified if they heard you.”

The whine that had remained huddled in the back of your throat finally sprung free, your face coloring hard as you smacked his muscular chest and glared up at him. He smiled down at you, a gentle curve of his lips and a small puff of air leaving his nose as he laughed gently, chest rubbing up against your belly.

The ring of the doorbell and Ome’s yell that should would answer, made you both unfortunately aware of what would be happening today; getting your house in order. Not tangled in the sheets for hours on end.

But soon.

“Go help Haibara with the studio.” You reached up to stroke loose blond locks from his forehead, admiring as they flopped back into place. “The gallery is in two days. Look nice but not too fancy and wear that cologne I can always smell on you.”

You watched with silent satisfaction as his eyes flooded with arousal and pride, offering yourself to him one last time as he kissed your lips quickly and pulled away from your frame, allowing the cold air of your nursery to waft between your bodies and dissipate the heat.

“Yes ma’am.”

You ignored the licks of heat in your belly at the words, pushing away the fantasies as he placed a quick kiss to your cheek and walked from the room.

You weren’t paying attention to the growing chatter in the hallways, your eyes unfocused and teeth digging into your bottom lip as Ome and Gojo walked into the nursery.

“Why can’t I compliment you?”

Gojo’s voice was filled with confusion and a small hint of disappointment as he stopped in the doorway. Ome sat in your rocking chair, looking up at Gojo’s confused form.

“You only compliment me because you want me to get in bed with you. You’re too tall and annoying for me to spare the five minutes for you to get off.”

You relaxed your posture, molding more into the wall as you watched them both interact.

“No, I’m complimenting you because I mean it.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. You could see the need to fight him in her eyes, the innate desire to turn away any man who made themselves known to her. But you could also detect a hint of interest, so very small but only you could see it.

“Gojo, you’re—”

“Just one date.”

The admission wasn’t a surprise to neither you nor Ome. But the serious look on Gojo’s face, bright blue eyes looking down at Ome in a fierce sort of loyalty you had never seen before, made you both pause.

“Just one. Give me one chance to prove to you that I’m worth more than insults. If you don’t like me after all of that, then I’ll leave you alone.”

She didn’t speak for a few seconds too long, silver expressive eyes looking up at Gojo’s equally alien ones before she pursed her lips in resignation.

“Y/n’s uncle is showing his work at his studio in a few days. Take me. No tricks, no stupid remarks, no nasty innuendos. If you fuck this up, I’ll choke you.”

He wiggled his shoulders playfully, smiling down at her.

“So, a win-win for me then?”

You couldn’t help the snort that shot from your mouth, eyeing Ome as she rolled her eyes and tried to contain the twitching of her lips.

Gojo turned his form over to you, flashing pearly whites in your direction before he invaded your space with his grotesquely tall form and pulled you into a gentle hug.

“So still no dick yet?”

For as much as Ome complained about Gojo, they truly had a lot in common. Two sides of the same coin who said what was on their mind without a care for how it came out of their mouths. Gojo took in your annoyed expression for only a second before rolling his eyes.

“I told you, my eyes see everything. I can tell that you had a good date last night, but you don’t have that glow most women do when they’ve had good pipe.”

There was no point in admonishing him. Once he got started, it was almost impossible for him to stop until it suited him.

“In college, I accidentally heard Nanamin giving it to one of his girlfriends at the time. Even I wanted to take notes from him. She walked out of his room like a newborn deer."

Gojo sighed as he recounted the events, almost wistful.

"Luckily Haibara walked in the house when Nanamin saw me or he probably would have beat the shit out of me. Wear something nice and he will be on you like a rabid dog.”

Ome barked at him to get out, rushing after his laughing form as he ran from the room, leaving you a blushing mess.

***

You were sure of yourself as you looked in the large mirror of your bathroom. You had spent hours putting yourself together, picking out every accessory and coming up with the perfect style until you had given up entirely and decided to just…go with your gut. And that simple action boosted your confidence to a degree that even you were blushing as you looked in the mirror.

A mauve long dress with skinny straps hugged your body. Not too tight, but form-fitting enough to show off the curves of your growing form and your belly. The long-sleeved mauve duster made you feel a little more secure as it flowed down your body and stopped at the same length of your dress. Your clear chunky heels were only about three inches tall; a perfect height for you to walk around in all night without getting too uncomfortable. Your curls hung over your shoulders and down your back, your edges smoothed down and secure with a skinny black headband to keep any tendrils from falling in front of your face. You topped off your accessories with a double-layered gold necklace, gold hoop earrings and a few simple gold bands to decorate your fingers. A simple wing of eyeliner, clear mascara, and a smooth application of clear lipgloss had cemented your look and filled you with a sensation of pride that you hoped would ride with you the rest of the night.

The sound of your doorbell pulled you out of your admiration, jumping a little from shock before you grabbed your black clutch and made your way for the door.

It made no sense to look naturally ready to fuck. And yet here he was, at your front door in black pants topped with a black leather belt with a silver buckle to accentuate his trim waist. A dark grey knit long-sleeve top was tucked into his pants, pulling just a little at his pectorals and biceps. The sleeves were pushed up to the middle of his forearms, showing off veiny skin and his signature silver Cartier watch. His thick blonde locks were gelled and parted in his signature style that you had seen every day at work and that familiar cologne was pooling around his form, floating around his feet and waiting to trail after him.

“You’re beautiful.”

The statement left no room for argument as he looked down at you and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You offered a small smile up at him in return, rolling your eyes playfully before you locked your door and followed him to his car.

***

Rory had really outdone himself in such a short time. The studio had been transformed from glaze and paint stained walls, eclectic design, and haphazard decoration, to sleek and modern. The walls which were usually decorated with frames of paintings and photography had been covered with white satin curtains. The bright lights that were often on in the center of the room had been turned off, smaller lights installed instead and directing their low-lit gaze at the various pieces of ceramic art that littered around the room on white stone pillars of varying size. He had forgone the musician and settled with a simple playlist of smooth jazz and R&B that played through the speakers on the walls. A long table of snacks and drinks and a caterer for each dish manned the far wall at the very end of the room. Even though you and Kento were only fifteen minutes late for a three-hour-long event, the room was filled with people talking idly with each other as they gazed at his work.

“Will you be my guide?” Kento teased from next to you, offering his muscular arm before you wrapped into his embrace and chuckled against him.

“You know his style more than I do.”

You couldn’t deny the happiness that filled you as you both wandered from work to work, your mouth flying with different facts about each piece. You told him about Rory’s inspiration for a collection of terracotta pots he had made when you were fifteen, walked him through the process of how he studied indigenous tribes overseas for a few years to gain inspiration on how to craft in a different way.

He listened intently, asking questions often to keep your mind busy, his mind truly interested in everything he was looking at. It made you squeeze his arm a little tighter in affection as you both said hello to Rory before continuing to wander around.

“Do you realize that this could be you?”

You didn’t respond to him as you both studied a set of black stoneware, fashioned to look as if it had been broken from hot coal and molded on the spot. Kento, sensing your apprehension, chose to keep speaking.

“You have a creativity that rivals even Rory.”

You scoffed in reply to his statement. What a ludicrous thing to say; comparing yourself to your uncle who had years of experience and study to hone his craft. And you, who had only thrown pottery on a wheel in your studio in your spare time, would not come as close to this for quite some time.

“Where do you think you get the trait from? You have work in your studio that could be sitting right on these pillars tonight.”

You simply chose to study him further, your eyes prying into him to see if you could pull any sense of a lie from his expressive brown eyes. As usual, you came up short. Kento always exuded a seriousness that gave way to honesty

“I think impending fatherhood has made you soft.”

“I may be happy that I’ll be a father soon, but I have no reason to lie. I will say it until you begin to realize and then continue to do so; you have a gift.”

You swallowed gently, pushing down the rising quivering in your throat from his words. You had a love-hate relationship with his way to simply speak freely. What would come out chopped and filled with anxiety from others was always effortless for Kento. Especially when it was directed at you.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He was clearly trying to soothe you; give you a little space to breathe and soak in his words. You took the bait, smiling softly and nodding before you watched him walk through the crowd and away from you.

Your eyes wandered over Rory’s black stoneware again, admiring the natural orange spots to bring the appearance of rust. You would get there. Once the baby was born and you had just a little more time to breathe, you would dedicate yourself to your work. You had more than enough money to stay unemployed for years and you had resolved to see this through until the end; whether that resulted in success or embarrassment would remain to be seen.

Gojo was hard to miss as he and Ome circled the room and caught your eye, talking—and surprisingly not bickering—as he pointed to certain objects and smiled down at her, mouthing words that seemed to make her chuckle and roll her eyes. Ome was of course as sexy as ever; black pants that hugged her thick thighs and slim waist, a black halter top that showed off chocolate shoulders, her kinky curly hair falling over her shoulders in a twist out she had clearly worked hard on. Her silver eyes were the most entrancing thing in the room. Gojo for all his unnatural height and bright blue eyes that pulled everyone in, was nothing in comparison to her when she was in the room. He waved at you, smiling brightly before his stark gaze landed on what was probably Kento across the room. He whispered something in Ome’s ear before he disappeared into the crowd.

You were intentionally quiet when she reached you, pursing your lips dramatically as you waited for her to speak first. She glared at you instead, seeing through the demeanor almost instantly, gaze cutting as a means to intimidate but only served to bounce off of you.

She sighed in defeat.

“Spit it out.”

“So you and Gojo—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggled brightly, rubbing your belly instinctually as you watched her chocolate cheeks darken from blush. She rolled her eyes once, your giggling never ceasing as she rolled them again before the gentle curve of a smile broke her façade and she exhaled with her own incredibly rare giggle herself.

“He’s been…fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Okay, okay. He’s been really, really…sweet. I thought I could intimidate him into backing down but I guess six months of practice made him an expert. He’s…fucking trying and I’m having a good time.”

You wrapped your arm with one of hers, pulling her toward you with another giggle.

“I’m glad. Don’t get too comfy too quick, you might be joining me in the motherhood department with the way he carries himself.”

Ome squawked, smacking away your hand in embarrassment.

“You annoying piece of—”

“Excuse me.”

Your chiding laughter faded away slowly as you turned around to the source of whoever was trying to get your attention. Her appearance gave nothing away and you for sure didn’t recognize her from anywhere else. Red rimmed glasses perched on pale and freckled skin, jet black hair pulled up into a tight high bun, dark jeans, a white top, and red lipstick to make her stand out in the crowd even with her small frame.

“Are you y/n?”

“I am.”

Your confirmation seemed to make the small smile on her face grow significantly. She clasped her hands together in excitement.

“Oh, I’m so glad. Your message said I could find you here. I was hoping to talk to you in person about a potential commission?”

You tilted your head in confusion, your eyes looking quickly through the crowd for Kento but not finding him. Ome shifted beside you, sliding closer to you and reaching for your arm to pull you away if she needed to.

The woman could see the hesitation on your face and dug in her purse to pull out her phone.

“I’ve been following your Instagram page for weeks now and finally had the courage to message you about your work. I even received a response this afternoon on where to meet you so we could talk further.”

You held your composure as she handed you her phone.

The profile was simple and without flair but the pictures, each picture was of the work that you had done over the years. Terracotta and stoneware, partially complete painted china, the odd figurines you had crafted in the privacy of your studio. All of it was there, there was no way this was someone else. The fear of someone sneaking into your house rooted in your mind as you scrolled through picture after picture, going over every single time you had opened and closed the door to your home in Sendai to imagine a possibility that you had left it unlocked.

“I’m sorry but I don’t know what’s going…on…here.”

Your words died in your throat, mouth drying up instantly. The very last photo was of you; your messy hair pulled up into a bun, shirt stretched over a smaller belly and hands clutching a stoneware dish as you wrapped it in bubble wrap. You weren’t even looking up in the photo, but the impression was clear. Someone had taken a photo of you, and the sinking reality of who that person was had your heart soaring against your ribcage, pounding relentlessly against your bones, heartbeat echoing in your ears.

You scrolled back up to the top of the page, admiring the profile picture of one of your better works and then refusing to gasp at the bio.

Y/n

Self-taught Ceramic Artist based in Nakameguro

DM for more inquiries

“Kento.”

His name left you on a shaky exhale, your head filling with disbelief. You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of a pair of eyes looking at you, and smiled up softly at her, handing her back the phone.

“I apologize. It seems I have a friend who made this page for me and didn’t tell me. But…I would be happy to make something for you. You’ll have to be patient with me as you’ll be my first client. But we can talk later this week if you want.”

The woman exhaled happily, smiling up at you again before she bowed in respect.

“Thank you so much! I would be honored.”

She pulled her purse over her shoulder, turning to leave before faltering and looking at you.

“You have a wonderful friend.”

The statement made you shake out a small giggle, happiness beginning to flood your veins at a ferocity you weren’t prepared for.

“I suppose I do.”

Ome asked for the profile name from the woman as you remained silent. When she finally walked away and back into the crowd, it was just you and Ome still standing next to one of Rory’s work.

Kento had waited until your back was turned to take those photos that day when you were packing up your studio. He had done all of this without a second thought; creating an Instagram page maybe with Yuji’s help, organizing picture after picture, probably even manning inquiries and messaging that woman right before he got into his car to drive to your house to pick you up.

“Do you realize this could be you?”

“You have work in your studio that could be sitting on these pillars tonight.”

“You have such a gift.”

Ome’s hand on your back made you start, jumping slightly back into reality, your eyes hazy with tears as you looked over at her. You blinked them away, willing them back inside before they could roll down your eyes and give you away when Kento was to find you again. You looked down at your phone for what felt like the 50th time in only two minutes, scrolling through picture after picture, your admiration and affection for him growing by the second.

He had a kindness that you more than deserved but never would have expected to get, especially when you first met. He had only saw your work one time, just once in your studio right before you poured your heart out to him about your mother, and yet he had already resolved to make you realize just how talented you truly were.

All of this for you.

“Are you okay?”

Ome’s voice was soft next to you, rubbing your back and watching as you smiled over at her before nodding, your voice still too tight to speak.

“I can see Gojo trying to find me, so I’ll go to him and give you some space.”

She pulled you into a firm hug, chuckling against your cheek.

“I’m glad I finally have someone in my corner that can make you see reason.”

You pinched her side playfully, not speaking as you watched her disappear from you and in the direction of Gojo.

Kento was by your side only minutes later, his face giving away nothing as he offered you a plastic-covered cup, a string from a teabag hanging from the side.

“Dandelion tea. Helps with water retention and I can imagine standing for this long might make you a little swollen and uncomfortable.”

You exhaled quickly, your shoulder shaking from the action as you took the cup from him.

“They have packets of dandelion tea here?”

Kento tilted his head, his serious eyes gazing at you with an air that made your stomach squeeze.

“No, I brought a packet for you. Events like these require a lot of standing. It only made sense.”

You shook your head in disbelief, eyebrows pinching together as your mind reeled with the force of him. The more that you felt yourself getting used to his usual acts of kindness, the more you realized just how unacclimated you were. Even though you knew his nature, the fact that the person standing in front of you was just…being himself was almost too much to contemplate.

Making you tea for your nausea, texting you the right foods to eat to help with your nutrient intake, rubbing the sore muscles of your body without you having to ask, wanting to spend any moment with you that he could, offering you nothing but honesty and affirmation and affection in every interaction you both had.

For fucks sake even forcing you to put your own feet in the water with your work to show the world and even yourself just how much people were looking.

All of it was only things that Kento could do. Without question and without apprehension.

As he looked down at you, a small smile growing on his straight lips with not a care in the world, you realized in that moment that you wanted to be out of this room and only with him.

“Can we go home? Maybe back to my house? It’s closer and I would like to be away from people if I can.”

A familiar large hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd instantly.

“Whatever you would like, we will do.”

You bit the inside of your lip, both hands gripping the warm cup a little tighter as the flapping in your chest reinforced its existence with a heavy lurch.

***

Your tea was largely forgotten as you set the cup down on your granite kitchen island. You had spent the entire car ride thinking over what you would say and how you would approach him. You had rehearsed it in your head over and over. But now, standing in your large kitchen as you watched him heat up leftover food from last night for you without even having to ask, you found your tongue had curled into the back of your throat, thick and dry and keeping you from speaking.

“Do you want to watch a movie? I found one that I think you might like.”

His attention was elsewhere as he spoke, pulling the reheated pizza from your microwave and setting it on the counter between you both. He finally looked up at you, his straight face coloring with a hint of worry.

“You’re awfully quiet. What’s wrong?”

Hesitation made your bones suddenly heavy, your mouth mute and your resolution teetering on the edge of fear. Kento could read every flicker of emotion in your eyes like a book, walking around the island to stand in front of you, a hand rubbing your upper arm in an attempt to soothe you.

“Are you nauseous? Tired?”

You blinked yourself out of your stupor, steeling what remained of your fraying nerves as you dug in your purse for your phone. He was silent as he watched you unlock it, observing as you opened the app and clicked the recently followed profile. You squeezed the sides of your phone as you looked at the pictures, your conviction hardening in your chest as you decided finally to put the games and worry with him aside.

“A woman found me at the gallery tonight and asked for me to commission something for her. Naturally…I had no idea what she was talking about and she showed me this.”

You turned your phone to face him. Kento wasn’t surprised or caught off guard; his straight face simply looked down at your unlocked phone, brown eyes flickering over the contents quickly before he looked up to meet your gaze, his expression unchanged.

“Did you make this?”

He answered almost immediately, his voice firm and leaving no room for trepidation.

“I did. I took them that night when I helped you pack, and then it took me about a week to put it all together. I’ve been watching it and answering inquiries since then. She was the first person that I felt confident would not be a creep.”

You clutched your phone to your chest, pressing the cold titanium to your cleavage and willing yourself to stay focused. He spoke without a care in the world, muttering the words to you as if he were talking about the weather. As if the act were just a usual stroll down the street.

“I don’t want you to say that I’m speaking nonsense. I don’t want a vague answer and I don’t want you to tell me something just to make me feel better. I need to know, now. Why did you do it?”

He pulled in a steady breath, broad shoulders rising with the movement before he squinted down at you and opened his full straight lips to speak.

“We had a rather rough start, didn’t we? Always barking at each other in conference rooms, demeaning each other’s’ prowess whenever we could. All because I was an asshole who did not like change and was content to coast through a job I loathed. But even though we both couldn’t stand each other; I was always thinking about you. Even when I swore to myself that you were no good, I loved every word that came out of your mouth, every glare you sent my way, every laugh that fell from your lips when Yuji or Gojo told you a joke. You were always the smartest person in the room and I gravitated to you. Even when I was drunk out of my mind, you were all I wanted. I hated it. But I realized quite quickly that I hated how much I had messed up when I could have done so much better with you.”

You swallowed the heavy lump in your throat, trying your best to will away the lightheadedness as his words lofted down between you both to settle on your face.

“I don’t want you to think I’m only acting this way because of the baby. If anything, she’s shown me everything that I want. I want to be able to take care of you while she grows inside of you. I want to be there when she comes into the world. I want to be there for every diaper change and late night when we are both too exhausted to stand…I want to be there for every meal and birthday and holiday, but I want you with me. I want to be there with you every day, for everything. I got your job back, put your ideas in front of those who would listen, and helped fire the ones who wronged you because you deserve it all. I made that page because I want you to understand how special you are and I want others to see that as well, and if that means I have to give you a push then I’ll do it a million times over.”

The sound of your phone creaking as you squeezed the metal in your hands pulled the fuzz out of your mouth. Your vision was swimming with tears, threatening to spill over and start a spicket that you wouldn’t be able to stop. You could feel yourself sinking, wanting to sob in happiness but too embarrassed to show him. So naturally, you turned to humor as a distraction from your bubbling nervousness. You cleared your throat gently and lifted your chin up at him.

“You speak like you’re reading wedding vows. You don’t think it’s a little soon?”

Kento’s eyes widened fractionally in surprise, his cheeks dusting red before he schooled his features and narrowed his eyes down at you in admonishment.

“That’s not funny. Stop teasing.”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that warbled from the back of your throat, your hands relaxing around your phone before you set it on the counter next to you. You looked up at him, admiring the subtle blush on his cheeks that still hadn’t faded away, reveling in the emotions dancing in his eyes; vulnerable and uncertain. You took another step closer to him, the gap between you both now only inches apart.

“So, you want me then?”

You of course already knew what he was going to say. For months now, Kento had done nothing but show who he really was; kind and honest, unwavering in his feelings and affirming of yours, protecting of you in such a fierce way that the force of it was still something you had yet learned how to handle. There were so many other things that you could try and think about another time. You knew deep down that he wasn’t going anywhere. But to hear him speak the words you wanted to hear, just one more time to satisfy the urge for a few months, it would be more than enough for you.

He wrapped both of his arms around your waist, warm skin sliding against your duster and leeching into the tight fabric of your dress. The smell of him dancing along your skin, caressing and groping in a way that had you reeling.

You watched in growing delight as the corners of his lips curved with a soft smile, brown eyes melting almost immediately.

“Of course, I want you. I want you every minute of every day. I admire you and--I like you…more than you can imagine.”

The resolution had cemented in your chest, pushing away all your nerves and apprehension at once as he spoke the words to you; serious and firm and unrelenting in a way that only Kento could convey.

Mentally grasping the sudden abundance of courage, you closed the gap between you both and buried your hands in his shirt, bunching the fabric and yanking him down towards you until his nose brushed against yours. You quietly admired the sight of his eyes widening just an inch, bright brown eyes blowing out slowly.

“You’re a very sappy man, Kento. I’m surprised you don’t cry more.”

The rare chuckle that was growing more and more common around you shot out onto your skin, brushing against your cheeks and smoothing down the sides of your neck.

“The teasing won’t ever stop, will it?”

The hands around your waist yanked you even closer to him, your chest molding against his and forcing your neck to crane slightly to look up at him because of his tall form. The ring of his irises was thin, barely noticeable in the kitchen lights as you felt the heat from his body increase in temperature.

“Is that a problem, Kento?”

“Absolutely not.”

You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips against one another and igniting a fire that had been poked and prodded for almost six months, finally laying more coals down to watch it grow to a volatile level. His hands were insistent, digging into the meat of your hips with a force that had you hissing in satisfaction, your own hands twisting into his shirt, fingernails catching on the fabric and pulling hard.

The brush of the cold countertop against your back made you jolt, pulling your lips from his as you gasped from the feeling. There was no space between you both, your boundary had shattered a long time ago around him. Even slouched over to reach your lips, Kento towered over your small frame, boxing you in between his hot body and the granite behind you. His broad chest was heaving against your chest, panting deeply as you felt one of his hands leave your waist and twine between your fingers, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Your bedroom.”

His voice was low, lower than what you were expecting and the words carried nothing but demand as you felt your spine zip with electricity. You squeezed his hand and wordlessly led him through your living room, down the hall, and into your large master bedroom.

You had decided to stick with the taupe-colored walls but opted to paint the accent wall a light sage. Your walls were decorated ornately with paintings and pictures, a collection of small impressionist works you had accumulated over time and a vast array of pictures of you, Ome, Rory, and your friends throughout the course of your life. An antique vanity that you had saved up for years ago sat against one of your walls, skincare bottles and your minimalist makeup lay on the refurbished countertop.

The sight of your California King platform bed reminded you immediately of the tall man behind you, quiet and imposing as you felt his chest brush against your back. Your teeth dug harshly into your bottom lip, the pain keeping you grounded and lucid as one of Kento’s hands brushed your curls over a shoulder, exposing your neck to him. The hot press of his lips on the skin had your eyes rolling, fluttering closed as you instantly bent to his will, tilting your head to the side to give him more access. You couldn’t remember when your duster had come off or even when long fingers dipped underneath the thin straps of your dress before they were giving way and falling over and down your shoulders, allowing the fabric to tumble down your body and onto the floor. Your bra and panties were nothing special, you had always opted more for comfort these days and the lacier garments you did have were a bit too small now.

You had both seen each other stark naked before, had been pressed together and sweaty and panting and groaning against one another to leave no room to hide so this wasn’t anything new.

But that was before you knew more about him, before he had given you a child and peeled layer after layer of your soul until nothing was left. Now you were both free of inebriation and that ghosting feeling of anxiety slowly began to make itself known, familiar invisible tendrils dancing up your body menacingly.

All too quickly, Kento was turning you around to face him, an action that managed to dissipate the tendrils around you if only for a moment. His eyes were heady with lust and something else you couldn’t quite place, dark and blown out as his gazed roved over your skin.

You were proud of your growing belly; at five and a half months it wasn’t that big yet and you had no trouble getting around and reaching for things. But the soft curve of it did make you feel a little self-conscious. It wasn’t the smooth and slightly toned brown skin he had trailed his tongue down months ago. It wasn’t the same, but you knew Kento could care less.

Warm hands grabbed your hips, guiding you backwards until you were sinking down onto the soft black duvet on your bed. You swallowed hard as you watched him sag down to his knees onto the plush rug on the floor, his eye level now only a few inches taller than yours before he was leaning in again and taking your lips in a manner that seemed to leave you breathless. He wanted this, wanted you. In every way, shape, and form. And the finality of it registering in your body had you building with newfound confidence as you reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, casting it aside and leaving your top half bare except for your gold necklace.

He took it as an invitation, his hands smoothing up your torso, thumbs brushing against the sides of your breasts before the pad of them ran over your nipples. You knew you were more sensitive lately, but the feel of his thumbs brushing against you had you whimpering into Kento’s mouth, your hands digging into the sheets behind you as you arched more into his touch. His lips were hot and wet as they trailed down your neck to suck and knead at your skin, gnawing at the soreness from the mark he left days ago before they dipped lower to brush against your collarbone, his thick tongue licking the bone against your thin skin.

Ten minutes. It had taken ten minutes for Kento to go from gentleman with his kisses and smooth hands, to perverted beast with a long and insistent tongue that needed to taste every inch of your skin. You let out a shaky breath as you looked down at him, refusing to whimper as his eyes caught yours, tongue out and pressed to your skin before trailing it down your breast and toward a nipple, twirling the bud before he sucked it into his mouth. The moan from your mouth caught you off guard, a little loud and jarring to your body as you tried to sift through the painful pleasure radiating up your spine. His hand grabbed your other breast, kneading the sensitive skin before two fingers rolled a nipple between them and pinched down.

You squeaked, sagging back onto your hands on the bed and letting your head fall back between your shoulder blades as you looked up at the ceiling, mouth open and panting.

Kento promised himself he would go slow. He wanted to take his time with you, touch every single inch until you were a whimpering, pleading mess that was begging for him with tears in your eyes.

It’s what he told himself when you answered the door in your tight dress, block heels, and long curls. It’s what he reinforced in his mind when you were close enough to taste his breath, teasing him even after he had laid himself bare. And it’s what he kept repeating in his head even now, a tongue licking a pert nipple in a gentle caress that had you shaking, your hands threatening to slip as your resolve broke further and further. But he was teetering on the edge, his mind running with salacious thoughts the more he tasted the salt of your skin and listened to the broken whimpers leaving your mouth. He hadn’t even touched your cunt yet, and he was trying to get himself together before he did. Just the thought of you hot and wet and dripping for him had him stiffening in his pants.

As soon as he acknowledged his resolve, it crumbled, a large and hot hand trailing from one of your breasts to dip behind the fabric of your panties. The sigh that left your mouth was deep and heavy, your head whipping down to look at him as his fingers dipped between your folds, sliding through the wetness of your slick. You dug your fingers into the fabric on his shoulders, eyebrows pinching in frustration.

“Stop teasing, Kento.”

A thick finger dipped between your folds, pressing into the hole of your cunt down to the knuckle. You jolted against him, shaking a breathy moan from your dry throat as you glared down at him.

“Being teased doesn’t feel that great all of a sudden?”

His face was straight and unchanging, eyes holding a glint of mirth as his muscular arm moved back and forth, the wrist flexing as the thick finger attached stroked in and out of your wet center. You needed more, craved more; the itchiness of your skin was slowly starting to become more insistent, hips arching toward him begging for another to give you the stretch you were seeking. Your face was like an open book, your emotions and needs laid bare for him and he smiled in response, a rare show of pearly white and straight teeth shocking you.

“You want more, baby?”

Your cunt clenched around his finger at the name, more slick gushing out just from the heat and timbre of his voice. You bit your bottom lip, nodding fervently as you dug your fingers harder into the fabric on his shoulders.

“Is this not enough?”

You couldn’t help the small growl that bubbled in your throat, a glare shooting his way, cutting through his indifferent air and making him smile softly again. He finally relented, slowly pulling his finger out of you, reveling in the wet muscle that squeezed him in an effort to keep him inside. He swallowed a groan, cock twitching in his pants and eyes looking up at you as he popped the wet finger in his mouth, sucking off your slick with a leery gaze.

You couldn’t handle the teasing any longer, choosing instead to scoot back on your bed and plop your head down on the pillows to prop you up, watching in silence as Kento stayed kneeled at the foot of the bed, an elbow pressing into the sheets as he propped his chin on a relaxed hand.

“I thought you wanted me?”

It was a low blow for you to say, but with the arousal thrumming in your veins, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“I always want you.”

“Then stop stalling and take off your clothes.”

He sighed dramatically, slowly coming to stand as he cast you a look of indifference. He was playing a game that he wouldn’t win, and you intended to let him know that.

“Unless you’re stalling for a reason? Afraid you’ll bust too soon?”

That hit something in him immediately, his tall and muscular body freezing, intense eyes flashing with shock, realization of what you were doing, and then resolution as he narrowed his eyes. He knew you were goading him, could smell it from across your large bed; but he wouldn’t let you get away with it regardless.

Kento’s hands reached for the hem of his shirt, dipping beneath the fabric before he pulled it over his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. You clenched your thighs together at the sight; your haze all those months ago had not done the memory of him justice. You forgot about the smooth pectorals that pulled his shirts a little too tight, or the tight abs and v cut that led down to something promising in his pants. His torso was without blemish except the light dusting of blonde hair that trailed down and disappeared behind his belt. You pressed your fingers into your sheets as they itched to reach across the bed and touch.

“Bust too soon? You and I both know that’s not true. Now, spread your legs for me, baby.”

You were heating with embarrassment as you felt the blood boil beneath your cheeks, your chest hitching with breath as you slowly obeyed him, opening your legs to show him your lavender panties. Kento’s eyes seemed to dilate further as he looked down at your covered pussy, his mouth watering at the sight of the dark spot conveying the heavy arousal you were steadily giving off. You ignored the growing itch at the base of your spine as you watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and push down his pants and underwear, finally freeing the rest of his skin for you to look at.

You’d forgotten how big he was but seeing it again was jarring. Long enough not to be overbearing, but thick to the point your cunt throbbed in anticipation. His cock hung heavy, twitching at the act of you staring, the tip gathering a small drip of precum. You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, your patience pulling thin.

“Show me what I want.”

His tone left no room for argument, his eyes sharp and focused as he kneeled on the bed. Your hand trembled for only a second as you pushed your panties to the side, showing him your dripping cunt that was more than ready to be stuffed full.

He tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he looked down at you.

“Don’t be shy. Show me all of it, baby.”

You whined softly, fighting the thrumming in your veins as you used your fingers to spread your folds apart, your hole fluttering from the sudden rush of cold air in the room. It was completely obscene, and your face was on fire, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him not touching you.

“Good girl.”

The praise washed over you like a wave of hot water, sliding over your skin and trailing down your body. You watched him crawl toward you, muscular shoulders bunching and curling over his rotator cuffs as he hovered over you, one hand bunching in the hair at the nape of your neck while the other slid your panties down your legs, your traces of arousal catching on the skin of your calves as the fabric dropped off the side of the bed. His lips were on yours in an instant, no more pretense necessary as you let his thick tongue part your lips and make a home in your mouth. It was messy and heated, your heart hammering as you tried to keep yourself under control.

The feel of two long fingers pressing hard against your clit had you arching up into him, a whine ripping from your throat and into his mouth as he licked the skin of your bottom lip. He circled slippery fingers once, twice, and one final time against your bundle of nerves before he slid his fingers inside of you without warning and up to the knuckle. You gasp harshly, pulling away from his mouth to dig your nails in the skin of his trapezius muscles.

“Such a wet little thing, you’re dripping.”

He fingered you with a finesse that had you trembling, the pads of his submerged fingers finding that spongy wall inside of you within a second before he was curling up, shooting burning pleasure through your core to pool at the base of your spine. He was relentless, curling over and over, thumb rubbing against your clit, his sharp eyes watching in concealed wonder as your moans grew in pitch, unflinching as your dug your nails harder into his skin.

“More Kento.”

You had planned to beg on his cock, you at least thought you would get that far. But the pleasure had come early just from his fingers alone and your dignity was in shambles. He tilted his head in confusion, a muscular arm still shifting with movement as he slowed down his ministrations.

“I thought I was giving you more?”

You whimpered hard in frustration, eyebrows pinching together and eyes prickling with the urge to build with tears. You blinked them away before they could form, frowning up at him.

“Stop it. You’re being unfair—”

He cut you off before you could beg any further, his eyes hard and the hand in your hair tightening fractionally as he spoke.

“You’re going to cum on my fingers and on my tongue, and then I’ll fuck you, darling.”

It was all you could ask for and still not enough.

“But—”

“Stop making demands when all you’ve done is tease.”

His tone was dark, heavy with lust and firmness as his fingers gave a sudden curl inside of you, pulling a loud moan from your mouth.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Even with the haze in his mind, his concern was evident on his face. Always thinking of you, even when every part of his body wanted to bury inside of you. You smiled up at him, shaking your head as the childish frustration billowed away in the hot air between you.

“Never. I’m just being a brat.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Something you seem to do well.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, reveling in the chuckle that rumbled against your chest from him. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and reassuring to counteract the firmness he had given you just moments ago. When he pulled away, he brushed his lips against your nose, smiling softly as he looked down at you.

“If it’s ever too much, if I hurt you in any way or if you want to stop, tell me at once.”

You nodded quickly, anticipation beginning to bubble in your gut for the millionth time that night. He pursed his lips in disapproval, the fingers stilling inside of you immediately. You whimpered harshly, teeth digging into the skin of your lip as you fluttered your eyes up at him.

“Speak to me. I need you to use your words.”

“Y-yes. I promise, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop or if it’s too much.”

The disapproval fell from his face and disappeared in the heady scent of his cologne around you, a smirk etching in its place as he kissed your lips.

“Good girl.”

The praise was dizzying, his emotions were practically giving you whiplash as you struggled to keep yourself grounded as his lips trailed down your neck, sucking the skin to leave yet another mark before he licked over the spot in satisfaction. You buried your fingers in the pillow beneath your head, panting heavily as you watched him—eyes locked with his—as that familiar thick and wet tongue slid down your skin, gathering the salt between the valley of your breasts, over the gentle swell of your stomach and down to your throbbing cunt. His eyes stayed on yours, your skin heating with an intensity that was making you faint as you watched him use the hand not inside of you slide beneath your knee, pushing it up and over his shoulder. You obeyed his unspoken command to not look away even as he dug his straight teeth into the skin of your inner thighs, pulling a sharp gasp from you that grew in pace as he kissed closer and closer before his tongue licked a smooth strip up your clit, dipping between the two fingers submerged in you to join the heat inside. The moan that left you was broken and deep, satisfaction sliding into the air from your mouth.

You were beautiful, he thought to himself as he watched you; panting and moaning from your place on the sheets above him as his tongue stroked inside of you, alternating with the movement of his fingers. Your hands were buried in the pillow beneath you, pulling the fabric hard to cushion against your ears as your teeth dug harshly into your skin, your lips swollen and red. You wouldn’t last long, the increased blood circulation from pregnancy had left you sensitive and engorged all over, the pleasure ten times more intense, more sensitive, your cunt throbbing from every touch and that familiar white hot pleasure beginning to curl more at the base of your spine. You could feel the muscles in your legs and back begin to tighten, your stomach clenching and bunching with every stroke of his tongue on your clit and every curl of his fingers against your g-spot.

You were barely coherent as you felt the promise of your first orgasm of the night make its intentions known, your legs twitching and chest heaving as you felt your back begin to arch. He was a man starved as he ate you out, the thick muscle of his tongue brushing against your bundle of nerves at just the right pressure, his fingers twisting at just the right speed.

“One more, baby. Let me stretch you out so you can take me.”

You nodded obediently, slack jawed and panting up into the air as you felt another finger slide inside of you, stretching you to the point where you could only shake out a disbelieving moan, eyes squeezing tight as the pleasure began to race down your spine and into your cunt. Your hands flew into his hair, burying inside of thick and soft locks and pulling him closer to you, the action making him groan against your clit. The vibration only served as a kick start to bringing your orgasm forth, your moans climbing higher and higher in pitch until you felt him curl those three fingers one last time, bursting the gates open.

You cursed harshly into the air, hips writhing against his still moving fingers and tongue as your orgasm pooled down your legs and back into your blood, ready to circulate again when he was inside of you. Kento was practically rutting into the mattress, using any sort of friction to soothe the throbbing of his cock and disgusting thoughts of being inside of your tight heat as he slid his fingers out of you and crawled back up your body.

You watched him breathlessly as he popped a finger in his mouth one by one, sucking the juices of you from his skin. You reached for his wrist to stop him, wrapping your hand around it and pulling his hand toward you before you slid the last slick covered finger into your mouth, twirling your tongue around the appendage and admiring your own taste.

“Shit.”

The hiss from his lips was full of surprise as he watched you pop his finger from your mouth and push his hand back down to your cunt, pressing against you insistently before you whispered words to him that he had been dreaming for weeks.

“Fuck me.”

He hissed out another curse, sliding a pillow beneath your hips and making you comfortable above all else even though his blood was pounding in his ears, cock twitching to the point of pain. Your hands were burning on his skin, trailing up his chest to bury at the nape of his neck as you felt him press against your entrance, hot and leaking.

He kept his gaze on your hooded eyes as he pressed his hips forward, pushing into you slowly, groaning deeply at the feel of your muscles contracting around him as he made his way inside. Your eyes fluttered harshly, fingers digging into his nape as you felt the muscles in your cunt throb and pulse around him. He was right to finger you with three fingers, but even with that, the stretch of him was intense and overwhelming, bordering on a faint sense of pain that you had to pant your way through. He paused to let you adjust, both of his hands bunching the fabric of your pillows on either side of your head.

“God you’re so tight,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you softly and trying to will the perverted thoughts away. They were pleading with him to slam his hips into you, listen to you moan hard and beg for him to let you cum, scratch at the skin of his chest as he pounded you into the mattress. But it’s been months, and your comfort was more important to him above all else.

The small whimper from your throat pulled him back into the present, kissing your nose softly as he looked down at you.

“You’re doing so well, baby and I’m almost there. Can you take the rest for me?”

You nodded before speaking quickly instead as you remembered what he had asked of you earlier.

He inched further into you, the stretched muscles giving way a little more, pleasure taking its place as you finally felt his hips press against yours. Kento watched you whimper below him, eyes misting over as you squeezed his cock tight, begging for him to move not a second later. His thrusts were slow and calculated, measuring your comfort as he moved in and out of you, using your facial expressions as a compass for what felt okay to avoid hurting the life growing between you both. Even though he could feel you tense below him, your eyes were heavy, mouth open and panting as you trailed your hands down to his biceps.

“Relax for me, darling. Just a little.”

He grabbed your hip, using sudden strength to keep them steady, forcing your body to sag into the bed and his cock to sink into you further, pulling a loud moan from your lips.

“More—more Kento.”

He obeyed you immediately, picking up his pace and stretching the rings of muscles squeezing him like a vice. Your pulse was racing, your heart fluttering like a bird in your ribcage as moan after moan fell past your lips like water. He was hitting spots in you that no other man before could ever touch, handling you with care with the life inside of you but also fucking you with an intensity that had all sense of modesty splintering from you with each steady thrust of his hips.

“I’ve waited almost six months for this.”

The confession hung in the air between you both, no longer shocking you but still a surprise to hear, nonetheless. His blonde locks hung heavy over his forehead, a few tendrils pressing to the skin from the building sweat. His pupils were blown out considerably, lust and arousal oozing from them and falling down onto your skin. A scalding hand grabbed the flesh of one of your thighs, pulling your leg around his waist and sinking himself a little further into you.

“You would be ashamed of how vulgar I’ve been. I think about being inside of you all the time.”

He leaned down, crashing his lips to yours before he pulled away and licked up the side of your neck, panting heavy hot air against your ear.

“I think about how you felt around me that night every day when I’m at work, in the morning when I go for a run, in the shower when I have my hand wrapped around my cock…”

Your cunt fluttered around him, your reservoir of pleasure bubbling from the heat of your skin, spilling over the edges as each thrust began to push against the hard barrier of a rewarding orgasm. The hand holding up your leg smoothed down your skin to the crease of your thigh, angling your hips in a way that had him brushing against the sponginess of your g-spot harshly.

“Oh fuck, right there!”

He obeyed you quickly, adjusting his thrusts to only hit where you wanted him, marveling at your breathy demands. You should have been wincing in pain from the constant onslaught on such a sensitive area, but instead tears were pooling in your eyes, the pleasure squeezing your hips and thighs and lips of your cunt as you moaned unashamedly into the air of your bedroom.

“So fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t help the yelp that left your mouth, cheeks coloring in embarrassment as you bit the corner of your lip, giving way for the moans to leak from the side of your mouth. You cunt gave another flutter around him, legs tensing and toes curling as brush after brush of his tip against that spot inside you had the tears finally spilling from the corners of your eyes. Your curls were wild beneath you, pooling on the pillow and sticking to the sweat on your face and neck.

“You don’t believe me?”

The hand at your hip grabbed an arm that was around his neck, bringing the skin of your wrist to his mouth before he pressed a soft kiss against your pulse. The breath leaving his mouth was quick against your skin, growing heavy and incessant with each pump inside of you. You couldn’t answer him, your throat was too busy pushing heavy moans out between pinched lips, eyes weighty with tears as you blinked them away constantly. You knew you were beautiful, but it was always scary to think about in such a vulnerable position like what you were in now, open and sweaty and aroused.

“I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. And now you’re finally beneath me; sweaty and messy and moaning like the sweet little thing you are. And all mine.”

Your heart was soaring, mind racing and barely functioning from the heat that was frying the tissue. Every nerve had been exposed and frayed from his intense gaze and heavy touch, every inch of you had been laid bare for him to gawk at, pick at, lick at until you were nothing more than a bubbling mess.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

His tone was hard and firm, demanding that you acknowledge your own vulnerability and face it head on as he plowed into you with renewed fervor, your cunt quivering once before squeezing him tightly.

“Y-yes!”

He growled beneath his breath, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yes, what?”

He pressed his cock harshly to the spongy wall of your g-spot, pulling a wet moan from your lips as you arched your back and sobbed in pleasure, your lower back tightening.

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

The admission slipping from your lips filled you with a sensation of warmth, marveling at the thought of him only wanting this with you.

“That’s right, baby. You’re right there, I can feel it.”

His acknowledgement seemed to spur you on, the tight muscles of your back heating and burning beneath your skin, your legs twitching and pussy pulsating around him as you felt that white hot sensation burn you from the inside out.

“Gonna cum—I can’t! Oh god, I’m gonna cum K-kento!”

You were clenching him constantly, pulling groans from his full lips and refusing to be ashamed as you choked on your breath, toes curling into the sheets and head pressing into the pillow behind you.

“Take what you want from me, darling. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You felt a thumb dip down to gather the wetness around your cunt before he stroked once then twice on your clit, yanking the orgasm from your spine.

His name fell from your lips, tears leaking from the sides of your eyes as the pleasure ebbed and flowed over your skin, licking away the dying embers as your muscles loosened and relaxed and you came floating back into your body.

You were eyes were heavy and your chest was heaving to catch your breath; satisfied and exhausted but still ready for more so he could cum.

Kento pulled out of you slowly before rolling you both over, your body now on top of him and still panting against his chest as he moved you both back so that he could sit up and rest against the headboard of your bed. You pulled away from his sweaty skin to look at him; exhausted and satisfied heaving breaths hitting his face as you pulled your hips up to hover over him. His cock was throbbing and red and wet from your arousal, twitching incessantly and begging to be wrapped in your heat again as you dragged your puffy and quivering pussy along the thick head of his tip. You smashed your lips against his, licking into his eager mouth as you sank down onto him in one fluid movement, leaving no time for him to adjust at the sudden sensation.

Large hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing hard to ground himself from the onslaught of the tightness that you encompassed. He pulled away from the wet kiss, hissing deeply from the feel of you, a soft moan panting hot into your mouth before he was guiding your movements on top of him, helping you slide up and down his shaft, the action easy from the soaked juices of your folds.

It took less than a minute before you were a woman possessed, bouncing on his cock with not a care in the world. Kento was struggling to keep up, hands slipping on the sweat of your skin as he gripped you harshly, angling your hips in a way that had him sinking deeper without causing discomfort.

His hair was a mess, more locks stuck to his face and forehead, eyebrows pinched in concentration, full lips parted slightly as he panted against you.

Suddenly you felt his hands dig into the cheeks of your ass, digging his fingers into the plushness of your skin and angling your back to arch your body into him so he could slip inside further.

“You feel so fucking good. So, so good. Hot and wet and tight, such a good girl.”

You were delirious with pleasure as you listened to him, basking at the feel of his thick cock sliding along your gummy walls that were quaking with overuse. You were overstimulated beyond belief, quivering against him and teetering between pleasure and sensitivity, lips brushing against his with every bounce on his length. The thickness of him and the feeling of being split open stoked some primal fire inside of you, your clit throbbing unexpectantly as it brushed against the skin of his abdomen over and over, the sensation making you shake.

You were going to cum again.

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, but your body had a mind of its own, determined to bring you to nirvana one last time before you passed out against him. Your jaw went slack, hands digging into his hair to anchor yourself as you rode him with a newfound fervor that had him reeling.

He was in awe of you as he watched you take control, thigh muscles bunching and clenching with your movements, never ceasing even though they began to quake in pain. The smell of sex in the air, the feel of your hot skin against his, your gold necklace slapping against your collarbone, nipples brushing against his chest, slick from your pussy sliding along his shaft and down his balls, it was all too much. He felt faint, head foggy with lust and a steady coiling pleasure in his stomach and balls that was making his muscles ache.

Suddenly the sounds coming from your mouth morphed into words, quiet and whispered against his lips as you spoke with unfocused eyes.

“So big—so big, split—splitting me open. I’m so full. More, more, more.”

The words were falling from your lips, uncaring if he or anyone else heard them, cheeks red from exertion and stained with drying tears, hair clinging to your face, nails digging into his scalp as you rode him with only one goal in mind.

He realized with a satisfied thought that you were using him, taking him in whatever way you wanted for your own pleasure as your blown out and unfocused eyes stayed locked with his.

He hissed your name, the familiar feeling of his balls tightening egging him on. As quiet and serious of a man as Kento was, he was surprisingly vocal as his groans increased in consistency.

“Tell me how well I’m fucking you.”

His command sliced through the air between you both, forcing you to come back to reality just a little bit. You were already delirious with pleasure, brain barely functioning as the weak embers of your impending orgasm steered your bravery to let the words tumble from your lips.

“You’re fucking me so well. Big and thick and fucking me just how I like. Keep going, Kento. Don’t stop.”

He groaned harshly into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing severely as he chased his release and equally yours, his cock hitting that spot inside you ceaselessly and pulling tears to your eyes again as you felt your body alight with fire.

You were steadily chanting into the air, breathy and delirious whispers of don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop sliding into his ears, making his heart hammer against his chest, his fingers clench harder into your skin, his desire for you swelling and spilling over the edges of his seal of control.

He reached between you both, stroking your clit at a rate that had you throwing your head back and hollering into the night air. He watched your Adams apple bob and stutter inside of your throat, moans piercing his ears as your entire body seized and you fell over the cliff of ecstasy for the final time of the night.

His name fell from your lips in a broken cry, fingers wet from the sweat in his hair, squeezing and pulling from the tautness of your muscles. Your head was swimming through the thick fog of pleasure as you came back down from your high, throat dry and stuck as you swallowed your dying moans, your body still moving atop of him as you realized through your haze that he still hadn't cum.

A sharp groan from him pulled you a little more into yourself, gentle moans still leaving your mouth on a staccato from the force of his thrusts up into you. He had taken control of your body completely, squeezing the flesh of your ass and bouncing you on his cock with a fervor that made your entire body jolt from each thrust. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, whimpering and moaning against his cheek, exhaling heavily against his face before you leaned over and pulled his earlobe into your mouth, biting down on the skin. He flinched against you, groaning from surprise and arousal as you licked over the bite marks of his ear.

“You can do it, Ken, hmm?”

You were mad with satisfaction, fucked loose and sweaty and reveling in his sudden sharp breaths and moans against your neck and as he climbed further and further towards his end.

You were encouraging him, breathing hard and heavy into his ear, clenching your core around him in a way that made him see white, the tightness in his balls making dark spots form at the sides of his vision. You weren't like this that night at the hotel. You were drunk and moaning, glaring at him at every chance you could get even though your eyes were rolling with ceaseless pleasure.

But now you were completely yourself; hot and messy, clinging to him until there was no space between you both, dripping slick on every part of his groin and thighs, moaning and whimpering into his ear yes, yes, please, cunt clenching him to the point of delicious pain.

The thought of being able to have this with you for the unseeable future had him bucking up into you harder, faster, deeper into your pussy until you wailed in his ear, tears spilling over your cheeks as your felt yourself clench impossibly tighter around him.

“That’s it, Kento. Beat this pussy up until I’m sore. Fill me up.”

Your words caught him off guard, unearthing a deep seated part of his brain that he didn’t want to acknowledge as his orgasm pulled from behind his belly button and ripped through him.

“Shit—shit—fuck!”

He moaned hard against the skin of your neck, squeezing you tightly as you felt him twitch harshly and spill into your wet heat, the warmth of it making you moan softly into the sweaty skin of his neck. You relaxed against him, sagging into his chest as you both basked in the comfortable silence of the cooling temperature of your bedroom, only your heaving breaths filling the air. You felt him press a warm kiss to your temple, pulling you back to look at him.

You soaked in the sight of him; forehead sweaty and matted with soaked blonde hair, a heavy ruddy color in his cheeks, his lips swollen and red. The brown of his eyes was returning as he down at you with a warmth that made your chest bubble with an emotion you either couldn’t place or wouldn’t acknowledge right now. He looked…blissfully happy. And it was evident more as a close lipped smile slid onto his face when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. You found your fingers carding through the hair on the nape of his neck, massaging and stroking his scalp as he pulled away to look down at you, his serious expression laced with a finality of what you both had just done.

You hummed, looking up at him before pursing your lips, your lids heavy with idyllic satisfaction and exhaustion.

“Not bad, slick.”

Kento chuckled harshly against your cheek before landing a smack to your ass that had you gasping up against him, giggles bursting from your throat at the shock and excitement as you watched him roll his eyes dramatically and slide out of you with a playful glower before carrying your still giggling form to the bathroom.

***

You realized with shocking—and satisfying—clarity that Kento was clingy, especially after sex. He had always hovered around you in public and even alone before you two had started putting your hands on each other, but now that an orgasm and acknowledged feelings were in the picture, his hands never stopped reaching for you. He couldn’t keep to himself in the shower, using your ‘fragile state as the mother of his child’ (his words, not yours) as an excuse to wash your body. He tried his best to feel on you through the soft fabric of your towel as he dried you off, quiet and observing as he wiped the pellets of water from your skin. He did give you space when you put on lotion, content to watch you with silent curiosity, a towel hanging low on his waist, as you lathered shea butter into your skin, paying extra care to the swell of your stomach.

You didn’t mind at all. He wasn’t overbearing in the slightest, you could tell he was making up for lost time. But you loved it all the same.

It turns out he really was serious about that movie he had brought up earlier in the night You watched him open Netflix on your laptop, eyes practically bulging from your skull as he pressed play for a movie that you would have never imagined him taking a second glance at.

“The Proposal?”

He looked back at you with a straight face, eyes indifferent and relaxed, his drying hair flopping against his forehead. His torso was bare, muscles bunching as he twisted back towards you, grey sweatpants—you thanked Ome mentally for liking to sleep in big clothes—stretching against his thighs as he pulled himself back towards your pillows and manhandled you to sit between his legs with your back to his chest.

“Is there something wrong with The Proposal?”

His voice rumbled against your back as you watched him use his foot to bring your computer closer, the movie beginning to play.

You flinched for a second as his hands carded through your curls, ignoring the cut reaction to smack his fingers away, and staying quiet as he parted down the middle and separated the hair into sections before putting your hair into long three strand braids and sliding the bonnet from underneath your pillow onto your scalp.

“H-how did you—”

“While many may think I am aloof, I do not thrive on being arrogant and misinformed about others who are not like me. Our daughter will be half Black which means things will be different for her in a way unlike everyone else. That includes her hair which needs unique care to be healthy. So I’ve been…watching videos.”

He cleared his throat, thankful you couldn’t see just how red his cheeks were as his fingers pressed down into the small of your back, massaging the sore muscles and undoing any kinks from the exhausting sex you both had basked in.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face, your cheeks aching from the stretch, chest filling with warmth as you watched the movie in front of you.

You knew Kento was a different breed, but it felt so good to see it, to hear it from him. It felt good to imagine him hunched over, eyes squinting in concentration as he watched a YouTube guru on his television show him what a washday routine looked like. It felt good to think of your daughter in the same position you were in now; between his legs and watching tv as he braided her hair before bed. You cursed inwardly, blinking furiously as you felt a tingle in your eyes, willing away the tears before they could build.

“You’ll be a good father, Kento.”

The conclusiveness in your voice was enough to reassure him as he pressed further into the flesh of your back, humming in acknowledgement. He watched the movie in silence, eyes locked on the screen and arm moving fluidly as he rubbed your skin, watching as Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds bickered with one another.

“Why this movie?” You found yourself asking, unable to hide the curiosity for long. You felt him shrug from behind you.

“It’s one of my favorites.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, forcing yourself to remember this moment so you could tell Ome tomorrow. Nanami Kento may be serious and indifferent with a face that barely conveyed how he was really feeling, but you had gotten to see almost everything that others would never get to. They wouldn’t get to watch reality tv with him or try to bargain pieces of his R&B collection. They wouldn’t get to know that he liked cheese pizza with no toppings and thick crust.

Not even now would they be able to marvel at the rare low laugh that fell from his open lips, deep in his gut and free flowing against your neck, your body shaking with the force of him as both the main characters ran stark naked into each other on the screen of your laptop.

This Kento was reserved only for you.

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months

Text

Nobody's Fool: Chapter 1

Summary: You have bartended for years after you were forced to drop out of college due to family circumstances. You have dated your fair share of musicians, had your heart broken by one particular one, and have learned they are not be trusted. You have sworn off of them for the rest of your life. Then, one night, a new band plays at the bar, and against your better judgement, you can't help noticing the lead singer and guitar player. Could he possibly be different from the ones who came before him?

Warnings: 18+ Only due to eventual smut and language. There is also a toxic family relationship if that is triggering for you.

So, this is an EddiexOC that I have on my Wattpad and AO3. @mmunson86 recommended that I share some of my longer fics on here too. I know most people don't prefer that so I decided to edit it into a reader fic for here. I would love to know what everyone thinks and if this is something you'd be interested in reading more of. If so, I have quite a few other books I could do this with down the road. If not, I'll just stick to my one shots. 😂😂😂

MasterList

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28

“Joey, we need more vodka from the back!” you called out from behind the bar.

“I’ll get you that vodka, sweetheart, when you finally let me have that date,” Joey countered, leaning across the bar, flashing you a smile and wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“In your dreams,” you chortled.

“You got that right. Every single night.”

“Ugh, you’re so disgusting,” you gagged. “Just go get the damn vodka. We have three bands playing tonight and John says we’re going to have quite the crowd. We need to make sure the bar is fully stocked.”

“Okay, okay,” Joey sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“You can when it’s the 100th time and he still fails,” you called over your shoulder as you checked the rest of the liquor. John had been adamant that you be as ready as possible before those doors opened for customers tonight.

The first of the three bands had just finished sound check and the second was about to come on stage. They'd been alright but not enough to really catch your attention, just your average, mediocre local band. You came out from behind the bar to check all the condiments on the table and top them off if needed.

“Your vodka, my queen,” Joey announced, making a big show of bowing and presenting two large bottles to you, one mid shelf, one low shelf. “Do you want me to grab the expensive shit or will these work for the night?”

“Those should be fine,” you replied. “I don’t see us getting high end clientele for a bunch of townie bands. Can you fill the condiments on the tables so we don’t have people asking for ketchup all night?”

Joey saluted you before heading off. You headed back behind the bar to clear the beer lines, pouring out a few ounces from each tap. There was nothing worse than having the taps malfunction when you had a bar full of drunks demanding more beer. Things got real rowdy, real fast when that shit happened and you were not in the mood for a bunch of belligerent drunks yelling at you because they couldn't drink until they couldn't see straight.

This job was supposed to be temporary, a stepping stone to something else. It was supposed to be a job that helped pay your way through college, but that's not what happened. Life happened and college fell by the wayside and here you were, four years later, still slinging drinks in this place.

It wasn’t a bad gig. The tips were great and the regulars loved you. You got to hear some amazing bands play. Free live music was definitely a perk of your job. There was nothing that could turn your mood around faster than good, live music. You never had to rise before the sun, which worked for you because you had always been a creature of the night. Still, you felt a bit like a loser, still tending bar at twenty-five instead of moving on to a real career, as your mother always liked to remind you.

“Everything set?” John asked as he came striding out of his office.

“As ready as we’re going to be,” you answered.

The second band had just begun sound check. You weren't paying much attention, not expecting anything special, as you did a last wipe down of the bar and tables. Then you heard the voice come over the mic and you paused mid-swipe, your bar duties abandoned. That voice was incredible, excellent range and pitch. It had this sultry, raspy quality that made you think about sweaty bodies tangled up in one another amid the sheets. But it also had this soothing, pleasant tone that felt like being curled up in your bed on a cold day, the comforter cocooned around you.

Forgetting all about the tables that needed cleaning, you turned to look at the stage because you had to see who that voice belonged to. Jesus Christ, what metalhead erotica novel did this man step out of? You head tilted, your hand coming up to your chest as your eyes raked over every inch of the beautiful man holding the guitar and singing into the mic. It should be a fucking crime to be that gorgeous.

He was tall, close to six feet with shoulders that filled out his tee quite nicely. He was lean but strong looking. As he shifted, the Iron Maiden tee rose up, revealing a bit of skin along his waist, just enough for you to glimpse the happy trail just above his button on those gloriously fitted ripped jeans and you couldn't help imagining where that trail might lead. Long, beautiful brown waves cascaded past his shoulders, moving around like the choppy waves of a stormy sea as his head rocked along to the strums of his guitar.

You were completely lost in the vision that was this man. You had seen endless musicians take this stage. You couldn’t even give someone a number if you wanted to, far too many to count. You had seen some beautiful men perform, men that could knock your senses loose with a look, but you had never seen anything like him. You didn’t know who he was, but you knew you were going to have to steer clear of him if you were going to stick to your promise to yourself. That one was trouble with a capital ‘T’.

“Hey John,” you said, walking back over to the bar, forcing yourself to turn away from the vision under the stage lights. “Who is the band that’s on stage right now? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Oh, that’s Corroded Coffin,” he said with a chuckle. “I was a bit hesitant when I saw their name. It sounded a bit cheesy, you know? But damn if they aren’t pretty good.”

“Yeah they are,” you agreed. “Why haven’t they ever played here before?”

“They usually play at the Hideout, and a buddy of mine saw them there the other week. He told me I needed to get them to come here because they were being wasted over there. They only gave them the Tuesday night slot, not much of a crowd. Even with a name like that, he swore they were one of the best bands he’s seen around town. So, I figured why the hell not? I like to give people a shot, especially the young ones just trying to find their place. Judging by what I’m hearing, they’ll be invited back.”

“Yeah…” you said, thinking you couldn’t possibly want anything less. It was going to be very hard to behave and avoid him if that guy was here on the regular.

“Uh-oh,” Joey teased, finished with the condiments. “I know that look. You falling for another rockstar?”

“Shut up,” you snapped. “No, I am definitely not. In case you forgot, I have sworn off all musicians for the rest of my life. They’re all a bunch of douchebags, anyway.”

“Yeah…because I haven’t heard that song and dance before,” he snorted with a chuckle. “I’ve been trying to get you to give me a shot for years now but, sadly for me, I have not a musical bone in my body and you have a thing for musicians, particularly long haired guys who can play guitar.”

He gestured to your shirt and you looked down. You were wearing your Van Halen tee and yes, you did have a thing for Eddie Van Halen, but like, who didn’t? The man was a gorgeous rock god.

“Actually,” Joey said, looking from your shirt to the stage, “I can see a resemblance there.”

“Oh shut up, there is not,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Eddie Van Halen is rock royalty. He is a guitar prodigy. No one can compare to him.”

“If you say so,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m exactly the authority on hot rock gods.”

You tossed a rag at him, telling him to finish the tables. You hadn’t noticed that the music had stopped, so focused on trying to think of anything but the one thing you really shouldn’t be thinking about. You absolutely could not let yourself go there again, especially after the last time. You went back behind the bar and bent over to stock beer mugs on the shelf when you heard a whistle from behind you.

“Well, that’s a lovely view. Hello there sweetheart. Can I get a beer?”

Standing, you spun around to come face to face with that ridiculously gorgeous man who had you paralyzed mere moments ago. If it was possible, he was even more beautiful up close. Those eyes, fuck, they were like melted chocolate, the kind that ran down your fingers on a hot summer day as you tried to eat your s'more as fast as you could. And his lips were so full and luscious, you just wanted to come across the bar, grab onto that shirt, yank him to her and find out what they felt like against hers. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip just imagining how they would taste.

You quickly shook it off. No, you absolutely were not going there again. This guy may have the face of an angel, but you knew better. All these damn rock stars were the same. You grabbed a mug, filled it from the tap and slid it over to him before turning away to resume your job.

“Damn, that’s quite the cold shoulder,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Trust me, I would remember. So, what could I possibly have done to deserve that?”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a laundry list of offenses that could warrant that. I’m guessing you can handle a little chill. I can’t imagine I’m the first lady who’s given you the same treatment,” you said, keeping your back to him.

“That’s quite an assumption,” he said, sitting down on the stool, drumming his fingers on top of the bar. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you,” you huffed with a harsh laugh. “I have known dozens of men just like you.”

“And what kind of man is that, exactly?”

“You think you’re a rock star even though you’re only part of a small townie band that plays for the local drunks each week and it makes you think you’re untouchable. Your guitar is just a metaphor for your dick. You have a complex about it and you treat it better than you’ve ever treated any woman. It was probably the only reason you got girls in high school. Hell, it's probably the only reason you get girls now. You play shows and look for some piece of ass to play around with and then the next show you look for a new one. Love them and leave them wanting more, right? If you do keep a girl around, you probably have another already lined up or one you’re already screwing on the side. You can’t stick with just one because it’s not how you’re built. You’re always looking for something more interesting or entertaining. Am I close?”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t be farther away if you were on the moon,” he said.

“Sure, of course,” you said, winking at him. “You’re that rare good guy musician.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he chuckled. “But how about we start with names? I’m Eddie.”

Fuck, this had to be a joke. His name could not be Eddie. You glanced down at your shirt and then back up at him and he smirked.

“Yeah, like the guy on your shirt, but not named for him,” he said. “I mean, I would be honored as he is one of the sickest guitarists to ever live but he would have been a kid when I was born.” You just stared at him so he raised his eyebrows, holding his hand out. “And this is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” you answered flatly.

“Y/N, beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Eddie smiled, winking at you.

Your body was having a fierce internal battle between your brain and your desire. This guy was not only beautiful, but there was something about him, something that was pulling you in like a magnetic field and you were trying hard to repel it. You were telling yourself not to be fooled, but damn if you didn’t want to take your chances and see where this went. Joey was right. You had a problem with long haired guitar players, but this one was something else entirely. What was it about him?

“So, Y/N, what do you say you let me take you out sometime?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow at you and you gripped the edge of the bar as your legs turned to jelly.

“No, I don’t think so,” you answered, determined to stay strong no matter what your body desired. And oh, it desired, you could feel it's desire pulsing between your legs.

“Why not?”

“”I already told you,” you stated. “I know your type. I’ve dated your type, and I’m not interested.”

“Well, that’s not fair. You don’t even know me. I promise you, I’m not like any guy who’s taken you out before. Sweetheart, I know for a fact you’ve never known anyone like me.”

Oh, you had no doubt of that but he was still a musician. You'd walked this path before and it only ended in heartbreak. You weren't doing it again.

“Maybe not, but my answer is still no,” you told him firmly. “I am sure you will have your pick of ladies tonight after the show. Your band is really good. Clearly, you know you’re good looking. The girls will be lining up for you boys later. You’ll have no problem finding some fun.”

“What if I don’t want just any lady? What if I want the one standing in front of me?” he asked, leaning on the bar. Did he have any idea what his gaze did to you? He probably did. Guys like him always knew what they were doing and they enjoyed it.

“Sorry, this one is not available. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to make sure we’re ready for the crowd tonight and don’t you need to get ready for your show?”

“You are going to go out with me,” Eddie said confidently as he rose from the stool.

“Points for positivity,” you teased, heading to the back. You closed the door to the stockroom, sucking in great gulps of air. Damn, that boy was going to test all your resolve.

So, I am not a fan of writing the Y/N. I had to here because they were just meeting but I am going to try to keep the pet names from here on out.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #corroded coffin #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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081314 · 1 year

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Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland 2 – Part 4

Following is part 4 of my translation of the Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland 2 event. This part contains Chapter 9 (Deuce and his tsum), Chapter 10 (Ortho and his tsum), and Chapter 11 (Lilia and his tsum).

Spoilers after the cut!

Chapter 9

Ace: Hey, guys. We were out on a little stroll with the tsum.

Trey: Ah, welcome back. We already started getting ready for the Unbirthday Party.

Deuce: We’re really sorry for getting here so late. We’ve been chasing the tsum all over campus today and time flew by before I realized it…

(Tsum!Deuce frowns)

Deuce: What? It’s your fault we’re late, and that’s that. …I mean, I know… somebody… was making things worse.

Ace: Huh, I wonder who that could be~? Anyways, I’m gonna go start painting the roses red. Have fun babysitting, Deuce.

(Ace departs)

Deuce: Geez… Alright, I’ll go ahead and get to work now, too!

Trey: Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Didn’t the principal tell you to look after your tsum? I heard those things can be quite the handful, so you just focus on taking care of it.

Deuce: Oh, no. It’s fine! It’s my duty as a Heartslabyul student to help with the parties, so please let me know if there’s anything I can do. Just because the tsum’s here doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit around and let you guys do all the work!

(something starts clinking around in the background)

Deuce: Huh, what’s that noise….? Tsum?

Trey: W-Wait a second… It’s stacking up a bunch of plates on its body…. It’s pretty good at keeping its balance.

Deuce: Maybe it wants to help out?

(Tsum!Deuce jumps up excitedly)

Deuce: Gotcha. Then we’ll do this together. I’ll get the plates from the cabinet, and you carry them to the party venue.

Trey: Ah-….. Just so we’re clear, I don’t want you going overboard with this, okay? That goes for both you and the tsum.

Deuce: Yes, sir! We understand.

Trey: Since the sponge cake’s about halfway cooled down, I went ahead and frosted it with whipped cream. Could you finish decorating it for me?

Heartslabyul Student A: Will do! Strawberries and powdered sugar should do the trick, right?

Trey: Yup. I’ll leave it with you, then. I’m going to check on that pie I have in the oven.

(Trey departs)

Deuce: Okay, this is the last one. You’re actually pretty good at this tsum. You didn’t even break a single plate.

Heartslabyul Student B: Hey, Deuce. Looks like we’re outta tea leaves…. Where do we keep the extras again?

Deuce: There should be some more on top of that cabinet. Here, wait a sec. I’ll go get it…

(Tsum!Deuce starts bending and stretching itself)

Deuce: What’s up, tsum? Looks like you’re doing yoga or something…

(Tsum!Deuce jumps high into the air)

Deuce: Wha-!? It jumped!? Woah, it was able to jump all the way up to the doorknob on the cabinet… But I doubt it’s gonna be able to get the door open just hanging from the knob like that. Tsum, get down. I’ll get the tea leaves…

(rattle rattle!)

Deuce: Oi, don’t try shaking the door open like that! All the canned food up there and the shelves are gonna fall down!

Heartslabyul Student A: …Huh? No way…

Deuce: The cabinet is falling over…!? Uwaaaa!?

(boom! Crash!)

Deuce: T-The shelves are rocking like a see saw…

(Tsum!Deuce gets launched into the air)

Deuce: The tsum got launched into the air from that shelf falling down!? How is this even happening right now!?? …Wait, it’s flying right towards that light hanging from the ceiling… It’s clinging onto the light for dear life, but at least it looks like the worst is over now…. right?

Heartslabyul Student B: No wait, the light’s swinging around from the tsum slamming into it.

Cater: What the heck was that crashing sound? Are you guys okay? ….What the- What happened to that cabinet!??

Deuce: Diamond Senpai, please stay back! That light’s shaking around a bunch ‘cause the tsum slammed into it and…!

(crash! Boom!)

Cater: Uwah. It’s knocking down the pots hanging up there!?

Deuce: I’m sorry, Diamond Senpai….! I’ll take care of this!

Cater: The tsum’s really trying it’s best to hang onto that light… but I think it’s about reached its limit?

Deuce: Tsum, let go! I’ll catch you!

(Tsum!Deuce jumps away)

Cater / Deuce: The tsum jumped away when it was about to fall!?

(boing!)

Deuce: It rebounded off the wall!

(plop!)

Deuce: Aah….. The tsum…. Landed right on top of the cake Trey Senpai made…!

Heartslabyul Student A: Oh no, and he’d already frosted it, too…

Cater: Uh oh～….. This doesn’t look good….

(Tsum!Deuce starts shrinking)

Deuce: Oi, don’t think you can just shrink down and hide away! Man, what am I gonna do… Even if I try to make a new cake now, I….

Trey: You guys done getting everything rea-….dy….?

Deuce: …Ah.

Trey: …What happened in here? I had a bad feeling and went ahead and baked a pie just to be safe, but… Why is that cabinet knocked over? Why are the pots lying all over the floor? And why is that cake topped with a tsum instead of powdered sugar?

Deuce: I- I'M SO SOORRRYYY!!

Chapter 10

Ortho: Tsum, I will support your body, so please go ahead and try moving your feet in the direction you’d like to go while I’m holding you in midair. ….Yes, just like that. Your attitude control system is responding in conjunction with your feet’s movements, exactly as it should.

(tsum!Ortho jumps up)

Ortho: What’s the matter, tsum? Do you want me to put you down? …Ah- Stop that, tsum. Please don’t tug on my anti-gravity unit. I know you’re tired of waiting, but please just be patient for a bit longer. Okay? I’m sure big brother will be finished making the final adjustments momentarily. And then you’ll be able to fly all you want!

(tsum!Ortho bounces around happily)

Ortho: Thank you for your understanding! Come on, let’s go see how things are going with big brother.

Idia: Initiating simulation test #26 of the tsum’s external flight gear, code name [TFLY-001]…. Maximum load during flight is within acceptable limits, no operational problems, and the energy efficiency is at…. 87%? Ugh, this is garbage! Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy!

Ortho: Big brother, how are the final adjustments going?

Idia: Not done yet! The energy efficiency rate is way too low. The way things are looking, I’m gonna have to go over the designs all over again…

Ortho: The gear should still operate just fine, since the tsum won’t be flying that far. It’s not like it’s going to be flying laps around Sage Island or anything… Anyways, it appears the tsum is growing restless. It was even trying to detach my anti-gravity unit earlier…

Idia: Wha- that’s scary. But I mean, these numbers just aren't gonna fly...

Ortho: It certainly is strange for low numbers like that to occur with your designs, big brother… I will perform a scan and investigate.

(beep beep beep)

Ortho: Ah! There’s a minor printing error in the internal multi-layer circuit board! It’s in the magic circuit on the second layer. It’s nothing serious enough to present any operational problems, but perhaps this is what’s causing the energy efficiency rate to be so low?

Idia: Ahh, so it was a printer malfunction, huh. That’s annoying, ‘cause you can’t really spot tiny problems like that just by looking at the thing. Printers are a major pain so I really don’t wanna bother with it, but… Guess it’s about time to buy a new one. Okay, let’s just print a new board and run another simulation…. Energy efficiency’s now improved to 96%. Well, I guess that’s a pass.

Ortho: Wonderful! Then let’s install the attitude control system I developed and finish this up. Now you’ll be able to fly through the sky, tsum! We made the gear as small as possible, so as to reduce any discomfort the tsum might feel when wearing it. The tsum hardly looks any different with it on.

Idia: That was a good call you made, Ortho. It woulda been ridiculous to put some heavy metal equipment on it. Woulda made its little doughy body look stiff as a board.

Ortho: And now it’s time to activate the gear.

(beep!)

(Tsum!Ortho starts floating in midair)

Ortho: Looking good. We’ve confirmed it can float around without issue. Now we just need to see if it can fly smoothly… Please give it a shot, tsum!

(Tsum!Ortho starts flying around the room)

Ortho: The gear is detecting the movements of the tsum’s feet and body, and is turning automatically in response to the direction it wants to go. And the forward propulsion system is operating… perfectly! And the tsum seems to be having fun, too. Perhaps we should take a test flight outside together.

Tsum!Ortho: ….!

Idia: Huh? Why’d tsum-shi drop down to the floor all of a sudden…?

Ortho: What’s the matter, tsum?

(Tsum!Ortho grabs Idia and Ortho and pulls them together)

Ortho: It’s pulling on us? Ah, maybe… Maybe the tsum wants to go flying together with both me and you, big brother.

Idia: You think so?

Ortho: Well, it is just like me, after all. So that must be it. Right, tsum?

(tsum!Ortho jumps up happily)

Idia: Whaaat… Can’t I just stay here? I’m running on, like, two hours of sleep so I’m really tired, and …. *yaaawn* Anyways, I don’t have any flying gear for myself…. No way you're gonna tell me to go hop on a broomstick and come join you guys.

Ortho: Then I’ll just hold you and I’ll fly, big brother.

Idia: W-What!?

(tsum!Ortho and Ortho start sparkling)

Ortho: The tsum looks like it’s really enjoying itself, and I would be delighted if you came with us, big brother! Do you really want to just stay here?

Idia: Ah-….. Okay, I’ll come with. But only for ten minutes… No, for five.

Ortho: Hooray! Let’s go, tsum!

(Sky)

Idia: ….Uh, did we really need to come up so high….?

Ortho: The tsum ended up going above the clouds when I followed after it.

(tsum!Ortho bounces happily)

Ortho: You look so happy, tsum. It was worth all the effort making that gear for it, huh big brother…

Idia: ….Zzzz….

Ortho: It appears that big brother has fallen asleep. We should head back to the dorm soon, I suppose. ….Thank you, tsum. Because of this opportunity you provided us… I was able to soar through the air together with big brother. I’ll give you that flying gear, tsum. Please take good care of it when you return home, okay? It’s…. Something that big brother and I worked hard on together.

(Tsum!Ortho jumps up excitedly)

Ortho: I’m glad to hear it! Now then… Let’s go take a little detour and head back to big brother’s room.

Chapter 11

Lilia: Alright, tsum. It’s time for you to show me what you’ve got!

Heartslabyul Student: Man, this juice sure is good. I wish it wasn’t one of those limited time flavors. I’ll just have to enjoy every last drop….

(Tsum!Lilia falls on the student’s head)

Heartslabyul Student: *spits out the juice* *cough cough*. D-Did something just fall on my head?!? I-Is it a b-b-bug!?

(Tsum!Lilia runs off)

Heartslabyul Student: Huh? There’s nothing there. Weird. Maybe I just imagined it….?

Lilia: Oh! You’ve returned, tsum. I was watching you surprise that student from back here in the shadows. You landed atop his head at the most exquisite timing, right when his mouth was filled with juice. And what’s more, you escaped before he even saw you…. Kufufu. How wonderful! Let’s keep this up and move on to our next target!

(Library)

Lilia: Hello there. Nice weather today, huh.

Diasomnia Student: Ah, Lilia Senpai. Indeed, it’s nice and warm out today…

(Lilia disappears and tsum!Lilia takes his place)

Diasomnia Student: Huh!!! W-What just happened!? There’s some weird creature here and Lilia Senpai’s gone! It resembles Lilia Senpai, but it’s smaller than him and looks a bit different somehow….. What kind of magic is this? Did he transform himself?

(Tsum!Lilia runs off)

Diasomnia Student: Wait, and now that creature’s gone, too!? What the heck is going oooon!!!!

(Interior Hallway)

Lilia: Yay! Give me a high five! Kufufu. Operation “Swapped out Surprise” was a big success. Okay, now on to the next one!

(Main Street)

Silver: Father still hasn’t returned to the dorm. Where in the world could he and his tsum have run off to… And just what are they doing….

Savanaclaw Student: Oi! Have you seen Lilia Vanrouge and his damn mini me around?

Scarabia Student: I sure did. And by that, I mean they startled me so bad I almost peed my pants….

Savanaclaw Student: So you’re another one of their victims, huh… You wanna team up and get back at ‘em?

Scarabia Student: Heck yeah! Let’s hurry up and find them!

Silver: Father…..

Sebek: It seems Sir Liila and the tsum’s activities have become quite the talk on campus. As expected of Sir Lilia!

Silver: We can’t let any unsavory rumors about father spread around school. We should go track down him and his tsum before things get out of hand. Sebek, I’ll search outside, and you go check the school buildings… ….Ack!!

Sebek: What is the matter with you? You’re standing there with bated breath.

Silver: It’s just, my back is… Something’s making me feel uneasy…

Lilia: Boo!!!

Sebek: !? Sir Lilia! When did you…!

Lilia: Oh my, looks like we caught you off guard. You boys still have a long ways to go～

Silver: “We”…..?

(tsum!Lilia pops out from behind Silver)

Sebek: Ah, Silver! The tsum is crawling about on your back.

Silver: I see. So that’s why my back felt so strange earlier.

Lilia: Alright, tsum. We succeeded in surprising Sebek and Silver, so come back here to me.

(Tsum!Lilia jumps off Silver’s back)

Silver: About those “surprises”….. There’s rumors spreading amongst the students. Don’t you think it’d be best to stop now?

Lilia: Hmm… If those rumors keep spreading, the students will probably start being more vigilant. Okay, tsum. Let’s head back to the dorm now. ….Hm? What, are you shaking your head “no”? Do you plan to keep on going?

(Tsum!Lilia runs off)

Sebek: Ah-, the tsum has fled! What insolence! To disobey Sir Lilia so!

Silver: We can’t let it go making anymore trouble. We have to chase after it!

Lilia: So now it’s putting on a little chase scene. These tsums certainly are interesting little fellows.

(Courtyard)

Silver: Ah, the tsum climbed up that apple tree over there!

Sebek: Very good. And I shall go capture it!

Lilia: Wait, you two! There’s someone sitting on that bench by the tree…. Hm?

Everyone: That’s….!!

(Tsum!Lilia drops onto Malleus’s head)

Malleus: ….Hm? Has something fallen on my head? I feel as though something like this has happened before, but…. Ah, it’s as I thought - another one of those little creatures has appeared. However, this time it’s a creature resembling Lilia, rather than Sebek.

Lilia: Nice catch, Malleus!

Malleus: Huh? Oh, it’s you, Lilia. And Silver and Sebek, too. Now I understand. You all came together to call on me.

Silver: Lord Malleus. My apologies for interrupting you while you were reading. Were you injured at all when the tsum bumped into your head?

Malleus: No, I’m quite alright.

Lilia: So what do you think, Mallleus? Doesn’t this tsum look just like me? It’s so cute, right?

Malleus: It certainly does resemble you. Both in appearance, and with your penchant for showing up unexpectedly.

Sebek: Young lord! Shall I not punish this tsum for it’s disrespectful… Nay, for it’s blatantly uninhibited conduct!?

Malleus: There’s no need for you to do that. A little good fun like this is nothing to get upset about.

Lilia I thought you’d say that, Malleus. What a big heart you have. That aside. Tsum, for you to go so far as to surprise Malleus of all people… You have quite the daring personality, don’t you. Kufufu. There’s truly never a dull moment with you.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

#twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst silver #deuce spade #ortho shroud #ace trappola #trey clover #cater diamond #sebek zigvolt #tsumsted wonderland #twst spoilers #twst

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fanficshiddles · 5 months

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The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 11

Loki flew back into the city, but he didn’t head home. Instead, he found himself standing at the end of the path of the building where Claire lived. He wasn’t sure why he ended up there, exactly… his wings had just sort of carried him there.

He paused and just stared up at the building, before eventually deciding to walk up to the front door. He pushed the buzzer for her flat, but there was no answer.

‘Shit.’ Loki sighed and pressed his head against the glass door for a moment. Then again, her not being in was probably for the best, he still wasn’t sure why he was there in the first place. It was probably a bad idea.

As he turned to head back down the path, he stopped in his tracks as Claire was just coming back with some shopping bags.

‘Loki?’

‘Hey, Claire.’ He said sheepishly.

‘What are you doing here?’ She asked with a smile as she walked up to him.

‘I…’ He wasn’t entirely sure what to tell her at first, but then decided that the truth… well, partial truth, would be best. ‘I had a big fight with Chris, I then just found my legs took me here instead of home.’ He said as he rubbed the back of his head.

Claire’s face softened. ‘Why don’t you come in, I’ve got stew in the slow cooker and it should be ready about now.’

Loki’s face lit up. ‘That would be nice, thank you. I don’t want to impose, though.’

‘Not at all. There’s plenty, I would be eating stew for the whole week otherwise.’ She laughed and juggled around the bags in her hands to get her keys out of her pocket.

‘Here, let me.’ Loki said quickly and took the bags from her.

‘Thanks.’

Claire and Loki headed inside, the lift was broken so they had to use the stairs. Thankfully she was only a few floors up, but Claire was secretly glad that Loki was there to carry the heavier bags for her.

‘Come on in. Sorry it’s not the tidiest, wasn’t expecting company so haven’t tidied.’ She said sheepishly as she opened her door.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Though if you say this isn’t tidy, I’d like to see what you think is tidy. This looks pretty neat to me.’ He said as he glanced around.

She had a small kitchen, but plenty of cupboards and counter space to make up for it. Her living room was a decent size, she had a corner of books and music memorabilia behind one of her sofas, a small glass coffee table was in the middle of the room and a TV hung on the wall next to a large window with a wide window ledge she had set up for a comfy reading spot, with cushions and a blanket. Her view of the city wasn’t too bad either.

‘Bat would love that window ledge.’ Loki grinned.

‘You know, that’s what I thought too the other day.’ Claire laughed.

Loki luckily had vaseline in his pocket, so he applied some around his nostrils when she disappeared into the kitchen. He had been hit with her smell as soon as he walked in and it was very overwhelming for him, obviously being surrounded by her everywhere. He began to think it maybe wasn’t a good idea coming here, he was going to have to use all of his strength to resist pouncing on her.

‘It’s a lovely home you have here, you’ve certainly made it your own. Very homely and cosy.’ Loki said as he followed her into the kitchen, she had started to unpack her shopping.

‘Thanks. I’m really happy with this place, just the right size for me really.’ She smiled brightly at him.

She was stretching right up on her tiptoes to try and put a packet of pasta on the top shelf, her t-shirt rode up, exposing her stomach a little. Loki breathed in sharply and tried not to stare, he quickly moved closer and offered to put it away for her.

‘It’s unfair how short I am.’ Claire laughed when Loki put the pasta in its place with ease.

‘Nothing wrong with being short and cute.’ Loki grinned and ruffled her hair playfully.

Claire wasn’t sure whether to be giddy about being called cute by him, or offended at the way he ruffled her hair. She batted his hand away with a laugh.

‘Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got soft drinks, tea, coffee or do you want something of the strong variety?’ She asked as she opened a cupboard that had quite the range of alcoholic drinks.

‘I’d kill for a gin.’ Loki said honestly.

‘One gin coming up.’ Claire poured them both a drink, then she checked on the stew. ‘Another ten minutes and it should be ready.’

They went through to the living room and got comfortable on the sofa together, Loki noted how she sat down quite close to him.

Loki began drinking his gin and almost finished it all in one go.

‘Wow, I’d say you really needed that. I’ll grab the bottle.’ Claire said with a gentle smile as she rushed to the kitchen and brought the bottle back, topping him up.

‘Sorry… I’ll try not to finish all your alcohol.’

‘I’d like to see you try, I have more in the utility cupboard.’ Claire laughed.

‘I’m starting to wonder if you’re an alcoholic, my dear?’ Loki raised an eyebrow at her.

‘I wonder that myself sometimes.’ She smirked and Loki chuckled. ‘I like having a drink at weekends, I’ve found its good to have a big stash too for any emergencies.’

‘Very wise.’ Loki smiled.

He’d actually almost forgotten why he had ended up there in the first place. Just being around Claire made him happy, she was like a ray of sunshine.

‘Are you ok?’ She asked when she noticed his smile drop.

Loki sighed and ran a hand down his face, he took another swig of his drink then placed it down on the side table next to him. ‘Not really. Chris and I had a huge fight, it got pretty bad.’

‘Are you hurt at all?’ Claire asked, concerned. She put her drink down too.

‘No. Well, I was a little but I’m fine now. I gave as good as I got.’ He chuckled a little bit. ‘Dad saw us fighting though, he’s not happy about it.’

‘What were you fighting over? It must have been bad, you don’t strike me as a violent person, I’m sure you had a valid reason and your dad understands.’ Claire said softly.

Loki knew that Claire would find out soon enough, as would everyone in the city, about Stevie being murdered.

‘Do you know the twins, Stevie and Kirsten? They’re in year five?’ Loki asked.

‘No, I don’t think I do.’ Claire shook her head. She had a bad feeling, she didn’t like where this was going.

‘They took my class last year, lovely kids. Bright and popular. They…’ Loki swallowed hard as he still couldn’t believe it. ‘Stevie was killed earlier, Kirsten saw it happen too and was lucky to get away.’

Claire was speechless, her heart broke at the thought of a student being murdered in this city. She was also heartbroken for Loki, she could see how much it was affecting him, he cared deeply for his students.

She reached over and put her hand on his forearm, to give him a reassuring squeeze. ‘Oh, Loki. I’m so sorry… Is Kirsten ok? Probably a stupid question.’

‘She’s as ok as can be.’ Loki nodded, he was trying not to react to the feeling of her hand on his arm, though he was so warmed that she was comforting him. ‘The police don’t know who did it, but it seems they were mixed in with a bad crowd… drug related.’ Loki said sadly.

‘So, why did this cause a fight with you and Chris?’ Claire asked.

‘He found them with drugs yesterday, apparently. Kirsten said that Chris took the drugs off them, even though they told him they had to pass it on to the buyers or they’d be in trouble. Chris didn’t report it, or tell anyone. He didn’t keep them safe, he sent them to slaughter.’ Loki said angrily, his hands balled into fists.

He was glad he’d thought of what to tell the humans in the first place, though he still felt rather bad for lying to Claire, even though it was for a genuine reason.

‘I… I’m sure he didn’t realise that would happen.’ Claire said softly.

‘No, he did. He knew they would be in trouble, that the drug gangs around here are ruthless and don’t give a shit about anyone, even kids.’ Loki said angrily, but he quickly calmed when Claire gave his arm another squeeze.

‘Hopefully the police will get the bastards that did this.’

‘I doubt it, the police aren’t very competent when it comes to this kind of thing.’ Loki sighed.

‘I suspect tomorrow is going to be a bit of a mess at school. Is there anything I can do?’ Claire offered.

Loki put his other hand atop of hers and smiled. ‘I don’t think so, thank you. There just might be a lot of unsettle for the next few weeks until things… sort themselves out. Students might be on edge, so any extra support we can give them will help.’

Claire nodded. She could understand now why Loki had argued with Chris, if he had at least told the police about the drugs or told the kids to stay home or something, maybe Stevie would still be alive.

The beeper for the slow cooker went off, so Claire went through to dish up the stew. She returned to Loki with a bowl each.

‘I don’t have room for a dining table, so we just have to eat off our laps I’m afraid.’ She said as she sat down again.

‘That’s quite alright, this sofa is far too comfy to move off of anyway.’ Loki said with a smile.

Claire felt a little nervous as she waited for Loki’s reaction to the stew, she hoped he would like it.

‘Mmm, this is delicious! I’ll need to come by uninvited more often.’ He grinned.

Claire laughed. ‘You’re welcome any time. I’m glad you like it, I’m not used to cooking for other people.’ She admitted.

‘Well, this is definitely the best stew I’ve ever had, and I promise I’m not just saying that.’

‘Glad to hear it. There’s plenty, so if you want seconds feel free.’ Claire grinned.

‘Oh, I most definitely will.’

After eating, Loki stayed for a little while longer, they talked a bit more about the school and what they might expect tomorrow. Then they changed the subject and talked about various things, movies and music mainly. Loki felt much more at ease than he had been earlier in the evening, more grounded again. Like he could see clearly through a thick fog.

When he was getting ready to leave, Claire gave him a container with some stew he’d requested to take home for tomorrow nights dinner.

‘Thank you, darling. Will save me cooking tomorrow.’ He grinned.

‘I’ve got some for myself too tomorrow. At least I won’t be eating it every night this week!’

‘I certainly wouldn’t complain if I had to have it every night.’ He said cheesily.

Loki couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He hesitated big time with his lips just hovering over her skin after kissing her. He glanced down at her lips, then back to her eyes. She was blushing hard as she looked at his lips too, then they both cleared their throats at the same time and leaned back awkwardly.

‘Thank you again, Claire. Truly. Not just for the food, but for helping to calm me down and letting me rant.’

‘Any time, Loki. Whatever happens tomorrow, or any other day, we will get through it. You’re not on your own.’ She assured him.

Loki desperately wanted to just grab her and hold her tight, to never let her go. Though it was as if she had read his mind.

‘It’ll be ok.’ She said as she stepped in closer to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Loki froze for a split second, but then he wrapped his arms back around her and hugged her back just as tight. His heart was hammering against his chest, he could even hear it. Then he realised that he could hear her heart too, beating just as fast at being in his arms.

He turned his head ever so slightly so his nose was in against her hair, he inhaled deeply, yet secretly, and almost swooned on the spot. When she pulled back, it was just in time before he lost control of himself.

‘Thank you… Goodnight, Claire. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Night, Loki. Take care going home.’ She called to him as he headed out the door.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be careful. I promise.’ He smiled widely at her and gave her another wave.

When Claire saw Loki disappear around the corner at the end of the corridor, she ducked back inside and closed the door. She let out a small squeal of happiness at the moment they just shared. Even though she had to remind herself he was her boss, and this was probably not allowed, she couldn’t help her feelings towards him.

Even though he had come to her needing some comfort, she was delighted that he’d chosen her to go to, and she got ready for bed with a big smile on her face.

Though when she got into bed her mind began wandering about those poor twins, she couldn’t believe one of them had been killed. It was horrible, and she knew that tomorrow was going to be a tough and challenging day.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #loki fic #vampire loki #the redbridge hunts

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finalfrontierpublishing · 1 year

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Ravenous by @rageprufrock

This is my first time trying to upload a post on my phone, so here we go -

Statistics:

38448 words || 148 pages

Titling: Playfair Display

Chapter Headers: Alchemist Serif Font

Body text: Charter, 11 points

A quickie bind in between 2 chonky chaparral_crown binds! This fic was recommended to me on the Renegade Discord and after I read it, it immediately leapt to the top of my to-bind pile. Sometimes you just need a taster of short fic bind while you procrastinate on the next few steps. I have a great appreciation for rageprufrock fics (have been reading them since the Star Trek days of yore) and damn, is this Hannibal fic absolute gorgeousness.

I had initially planned a wound man design on the cover (went so far as to convert an image to a black and white PNG but the image quality wasn't great, and due to violence, it might have been a rather disturbing cover to post publicly so I changed my mind last minute and did something else instead. The spine was too small for titling - I had initially wanted to go for block letters a la Annihilation style on the front cover as the title is 8 letters, but it hadn't looked as good as the serif no caps font rotated 90 degrees - so serif font it was. Hannibal doesn't seem like a man who likes san serif fonts anyway, so perhaps this was the right choice.

I'm deeply fond of this particular bookcloth and its colour iterations but I need some colour variation on my shelf - next book will be green, I swear.

I kept the bind relatively simple and relatively classic. The endpapers are foiled, though the foiling doesn't show up well in photos. I used a chattering of starlings on the chapter headers, and can totally imagine Hannibal drawing little artistic birds for his own amusement while incarcerated in the psychiatric hospital. For the title page, I had wanted to do a face with a moth in the style of Silence of the Lambs, but couldn't find a nice enough stock photo, so I foiled a solitary moth with the help of toner reactive foil. The laminator didn't like the foil so much and left a line across the paper.

The HTV itself adhered largely like a dream other than the thin stringy bits that were a tad difficult to weed. The gold metallic is a standout and I didn't melt it this time. (hurray!)

#bookbinding #fanbinding #renegade bindery #my books #hannibal #hannigram #rageprufrock #ravenous

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room-on-broom · 5 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tug by @marvellouslymadmim thank you so much me luv

Tagging @heathtrash @teapotteringabout @holdmecloser-gandydancer @womble1 @janetm74 @kiwi-cackles and YOU! and who else wants to do it! more questions under the read more

1. How many works do you have on A03?

48 (60 on fanfic)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

I've no idea, i messed up on my calculator and dont have the pactience to go back over it

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Stingray and Thunderbirds. and worst witch. its always worst witch

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Jabberjay-ded (128 vs 4 comments lol) Little Wizard, The Broken Hand mirror, Mildred's Monstrous Misadventures, (ah yeah witching kind!) and I saw Seven Idiots.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Fanfic.net dosnt let me reply any more??? but I do try to. even if its just a key smash and a thankyou. or if its an emoji spam i emoji spam back. I love those.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm. The closest ones I could think of are Death's acquaintance and In grief we bake. I don't tend to do agnsty endings. even the sad ish ones are kind hopeful.

EDIT: JABBERYJAYED! I forgot!? litreally a hunger games fic ends up in devistation?? fool.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I couldnt narrow it down so top 2: I saw 7 Dogs and Christmas Cards

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Onlya few times in the past. two of those times were Worst witch ship trolls and just deleted them. one was my fault, i got uppity with an 'UPDATE NOW' comment and user just went a few my other fics being rude. againn deleted.

9. Do you write smut?

write yes. post no. (not yet-!) :o

10. Do you write crossovers?

yes. Ive have a good half a dozen under my belt and a couple in the works.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

angain no not that i know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I would count @teapotteringabout @kiwi-collideoscope and Princess Sammi as , the amount i've bouced ideas about with them.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mary Poppins and Bert. the OTP before i knew what the internet was.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Froot, SEASICK and Cherrytree Carol. plus a bunch of WW ones. I keep picking them up but i feel like they might be left on the shelf a little longer.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and character voices. I also love mixing humour in too, even just a little sprinkle into sad bits and I think i do that quite well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot bunnies. and not finishing current WIPS. Ive made a mountain of improvement on that frount but yeah posting chapters before before the fics even 50% done. To the point ive sequeals to fics that are only two lines of an epic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Massivise kudos who can do that. not my forte. The closest I've come is writing the odd burst of ASL and BSL for Unshackled and Chest Compressions, and a pinch of welsh for Lucretia’s Baller but as yet Hypothetical Birthday Cake.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Corpse Bride (2005). a sad little fic for a le sad victor van dort.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Ever? Probably have to Mildred's Montorus adventures. but Your mother and Mine's got a special place in my heartjust cos family and the catharisis .

Thank you!!

#y know?#long post #the worst witch #worst witch #fanfiction #thunderfam #the adventure zone #mary poppins #stingray 1964 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #corspe bride #ask game #writers #taz balence #the hunger games

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pisupsala · 1 year

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One for The History Books [Chapter 20] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 4.3k

[Library]

Chapter 20 - Reaching the shallows

It’s getting dark, and you haven’t moved from the spot in your living room yet. After you said goodbye to your sister, you just sat there, tears streaming down your face until you are pretty sure you have run out of tears for a lifetime.

Exhausted, you lay down, resting your heated skin on the cool floor, watching the light from coming from the window slowly die.

Maybe you’ll just stay here. It’s as a good place as any you surmise.

You don’t know what to do.

So you just wait.

It’s pitch dark in your apartment by the time you need to get up. Your hip and shoulder hurt, your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, and your stomach feels acrid. Getting up is like moving through molasses, every nerve and tendon aching.

The corners of your mind are getting snowed in again, making it hard to think. Not that you particularly want to think. You just want this not to be.

You drag yourself to bed, not even bothering to get changed. The moment your head hits your pillow, you can’t help but notice how your sheets smell of him. With the last semblance of your energy, you fling his shirt against the opposite wall. It flops down on the floor pathetically.

God-fucking-damnit, you can’t catch a break. Should you just sleep on the couch? That spot on the floor was pretty sweet too, actually.

You groan. Jesus, you are not seriously getting chased out of your own bed by someone who isn’t even here. You blindly push Bradley’s pillow down the bed. There’s really no need for this now.

When your alarm wakes you on Monday morning, you don’t know what to make of having Bradley’s pillow wrapped in your arms, face pressed into the fabric.

Well, you are a sucker. But what else is new.

You try not to notice there’s no message from Bradley on your phone.

In the shower, you pettily push his body wash from the shelf. You watch it clatter on to the tiles at your feet, the water raining down onto the plastic loudly. Halfheartedly, you nudge the bottle away from the stream of water with your foot.

That did nothing for your mood.

You’re not even mad. Or maybe you are. You are definitely sad, right? You mostly feel kind of sick to your stomach.

Wrapping yourself up in a large towel, you wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror. You haven’t really gotten a good look at yourself since yesterday. The bruise under your eye is undoubtedly darker than it was—a splotchy purple smear over the bottom part of your eye socket.

Tears suddenly prickle in your eyes again. Bradley looked so scared. You’ve never felt so deeply attached to someone, while simultaneously having such a painful distance between each other.

“You don’t have time for this.” You tell your reflection sternly. Setting your mouth in a hard line, you start rummaging through your criminally underused make up bag. There is going to be some sort of concealer in there for sure.

It doesn’t look great. The darkest parts of the bruise still come through the makeup, looking vaguely like a smooshed blueberry. You shrug at yourself. It’ll have to do.

You have work to do. Last time - fucking last time, like Bradley just fucking off on a whim is a regular occurrence in your life now—your broken heart actually landed you in plenty hot water at work. None of that anymore. You’ll fuck up on your own time, thank you very much. Right now, you have a PhD to complete.

At work, you are pretty sure people have noticed the bruise, but mercifully no one comments on it. However, at lunch—the one you don’t eat because you feel like your stomach is getting strangled—your resolve breaks. Bradley has still not written you. Not a sign of life, let alone an apology.

You text Beth.

“Still nothing. Should I at least text hi?”

The answer is immediate.

“NO!!!!”

Sighing, you put your phone away. That many exclamation marks is pretty uncalled for. Yet, it doesn’t sit well with you—you want to talk to Bradley so badly. You want to fix this. Tell him you’re sorry.

Maybe you’re just not cut out for power games like this.

Every time you check your phone during the day and there’s no message, a little part of you dies. Each time you feel like you’re taking a step closer to the edge of “this is really it, huh?”

You are not angry.

You just feel like you have no more fight left in you.

Last time, you at least tried to look for a way out of the raging snowstorm threatening to consume you. This time you elect to just sit it out. Plopped down in the middle of a snow bank, as the snow mounts higher and higher around you.

It’s as a good place as any.

On Tuesday night, you are in bed early. You are cuddled up to Bradley’s pillow, watching an endless stream of YouTube videos on your laptop to keep your mind from wandering any further towards the edge. You want to hold out hope.

Your phone buzzes.

You don’t need to look to see who it is. Your stomach twists painfully while your heart jumps. It can always only be him. Eyes closed, you sigh.

Almost, almost you don’t want to look. What if it’s bad news? What if he can’t forgive you?

Enough. You pull your phone out.

“lets talk”

You wait. That’s it?

Well. At least he texted? You reply quickly:

“Ok.”

Yeah. That could have been put a… nicer way. Good going. You watch the speech bubble and disappear. Should you…

You hesitate for a minute.

Your sister would be so disappointed, and maybe you’re just too much of fucking softie, but you cannot handle imagining Bradley struggle like this.

“Do you want to talk now?”

The moment you hit send, his message comes in.

“i miss you”

Great. Now you feel like a complete asshole. You should have kept your mouth shut as per usual. Heart beating in your throat, truly hoping that this a positive sign, you reply.

“I miss you too.”

“lets talk in person” The messages come in quick succession. “soon”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The conversation between you and Bradley feels stale, like chewing through days old bread. At least you are talking again? You don’t really get beyond daily how are yous, good mornings and sleep wells, but you surmise it’s better than nothing. So far, he hasn’t clarified when he actually wants to talk. Your fingers are absolutely itching to ask and push him to make a choice.

But you don’t.

The message that receive late in the day on Thursday leaves you all the more surprised.

“can i leave some stuff at yours for safekeeping while i’m away?”

You can’t lie—your heart is jumping with joy. It’s not the apology you’re waiting for, it’s not even the start of the conversation you need to have, but damnit, Bradley has a knack for making you feel special.

“Sure. When are you coming by?”

“will tomorrow evening work for you?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You wait for Bradley to write you more, but no other messages come in. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, wanting to ask him so many things: will he be staying? Does he want to talk? What does he want you to keep safe for him?

In the end, you gracelessly drop your phone into your bag next to your desk. You’ll find out soon enough what the deal is. And it’s not like you had plans for Friday. Moping in private, maybe. Lots of YouTube. Not thinking about the state of your relationship, mostly.

Fuck.

These are going to be a long 24 hours.

When you finally return home from work on Friday, you are suddenly horrified by the absolute state of your apartment. The wineglasses have been on the coffee table a whole week now. Bed unmade, your laundry is piling out of the hamper, his shirt in the corner. Bradley’s body wash is still languishing in the corner of your shower. It’s like your entire apartment is grieving with you.

Ultimately, you don’t tidy up, nor get changed out of your work clothes. Whatever is going on in your apartment is your business and your business alone, you think tersely. Normally you would slip into some yoga pants or shorts to hang out, but somehow that feels too vulnerable. Your slacks and silk button up shirt are like an armor.

It’s nearly seven when your doorbell rings. You had been pretty calm, you think, but now your blood is audibly rushing through your veins. With shaking hands, you buzz Bradley in. You go to open the door to your apartment, and you catch sight of Bradley walking up the stairs.

He’s looking down, carrying what looks like a cardboard storage box. You fling yourself against the wall of the hallway, feeling like the breath has been knocked out of you. He looks so cool and collected, and so, so good. The dark blue shirt straining over his upper arms, his curls lightly tousled after a long day. It pains you.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you wait, heart almost beating out of your chest.

“Hi.” Bradley’s voice is careful. He’s standing in the door opening, somewhat awkwardly. You realize you are blocking the entrance.

“Hey.” You reply cautiously. You don’t know what you were expecting, but you can help but feel crestfallen. “Sorry, come in.”

You move out of the way and walk towards the living room. You quickly look back, taking in Bradley as he walks behind you. He appears tired, his tan skin looking almost dull. He holds himself in that same effortless and confident style you would recognize anywhere, but you can feel the weight that is dragging him down behind the facade.

Not quite knowing what to do, you stand in the middle of the room, facing each other. Bradley gently put the box down. As he straightens back up, he finally gets a good look at you.

Your face is drawn, the bruise under your eye poorly concealed by fading make up. You have your arms crossed over your chest like you are trying to insulate yourself from the situation. It’s been long since he’s seen you in work clothes, so formal, like you’re putting up a wall.

He wants to grab you, pull you against him in the way that always makes you squeal in delight and apologize a thousand time over until you stop looking at him with such pain in your eyes. But he also knows just an apology won’t cut it anymore. He dragged this out for too long.

As you stand there, you feel like a pot that is about to boil over. You desperately want to break the painful silence and close the cutting distance between you. Beth’s words keep ringing in your ears. If you do that, you’ll never be happy.

“I want to apologize-” Bradley starts.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out that same moment, not being able to take it anymore. You both abruptly stop talking.

Pain.

“I interrupted you.” You shift awkwardly on your feet. “Please…”

“Ah yeah…” Bradley replies softly. He takes a deep breath, hand flexing nervously at his side. “I want to apologize for everything I said last week.” He swallows dryly. “For walking out.”

You wait for him to continue, barely able to look at him.

“You deserve more than just an apology. You deserve me doing better…” Bradley trails off, voice vulnerable. “...I just hope you’re still willing me to give that chance.”

Head down, you nod. Your eyes are trained firmly on the floor—you don’t want him to see the tears that have already started to form.

“I… I said some pretty awful things to you.” You reply, voice thick. “Not matter how angry I was, that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

“I’m pretty sure I needed to hear those things.”

“You walked out on me for it.” You can’t conceal the pain in your voice. “You disappeared again.”

“I couldn’t handle it.” Bradley takes a shaky breath. “Because you were right. And I spent so long avoiding my past, the nightmares… that it seemed like the only thing I could do.”

You let out a long breath.

“And next time?” It feels like you are purposefully driving a dagger into your own heart with those words. You don’t want to say it, but you need to know. “One day you’ll walk out for good. And that… terrifies me.”

“I -” Bradley falters. God, he wants to comfort you, but he can’t find the words and hesitates to cross the few feet, which feel like light years, between you. Your tears are flowing freely now; through your lashes, you see them drip down the front of your blouse. “I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me.”

“I want…” His voice breaks for a second. Balling his fist, he steels himself. He needs to spit it out already. “I want to there not to be a next time. But I can't—I need you. I can’t do this by myself.”

Admitting it out loud to you finally gives Bradley the feeling that just a fraction of the weight on him might be lifting. There is seldom a prefect moment for anything. The only right time is right now.

“The nightmares —,” Your head shoots up at the mention of it. Bradley’s heart clenches at your bloodshot eyes, but he averts his gaze. It’s now or never before he loses his nerve.

“They started after the mission. I dream I’m flying when all alarms start blaring. There’s a SAM incoming on my six. I’m out of flares- it’s so close, there’s no way to outmaneuver it. The moment I look back, I’m in a two-seater. For a split second, that replays over and over in my head-” He stops for a few seconds to calm his suddenly rapid breathing.

“First I only ever saw Mav in that seat, yelling commands at me. Then there were more faces and voices, and they started to blur. I saw my father—he was silent…” His voice raspy now. He’s pretty sure he’s not crying, he hasn’t cried in years. “I guess because I can’t really remember his voice. Sometimes I heard my mother’s voice yelling my name, from when she was sickest and most scared.”

Bradley is so focussed on trying to explain what he sees in his darkest moments, looking everywhere but you, feeling completely exposed, he doesn’t notice you appearing next to him.

Gently, you unfurl his balled fist and thread your fingers through his. He falls quiet for a moment, while you stand next to him silently. You are so shocked that you can’t even cry. So you just stand there together for a moment. Bradley closes his eyes, brows furrowed.

“And then…” He breathes in through his nose, squeezing your hand almost painfully. “Then I started seeing you. In a split second of terror, calling out to me before you get engulfed in the fireball along everyone else… and I put you there. Every single person.” His breathing is rapid.

“And there’s not a fucking thing I can do to save you. And It’s my fault.”

It feels like his entire body is covered in abrasions—like he tore off his skin to expose his more vulnerable self. He unclenches his hand, but you squeeze back. Wordlessly, you lean your cheek against Bradley’s shoulder, waiting for his breathing to calm down and fall in sync with yours.

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” You tell him softly. “I hate that you have to suffer like that.”

“I’ve never told anyone before.” He replies, almost dazed. It feels so strange now it’s not a secret anymore. Strangely, he feels lighter.

“Thank you for telling me.” You murmur. Truth is, you expected this would be something more than monsters under the bed, but hearing Bradley essentially tearing himself apart at the seams to tell you, makes you feel like the biggest asshole in the world. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to, though.”

“No, you absolutely should have.” Bradley counters. “I’m pretty sure I would have let this eat me alive keeping it from you.”

“Why?” The question falls from your lips almost automatically. But you suppose if this is the time to throw all the cards on the table, you might as well.

“Because I didn’t want you to leave me.” Bradley says it so matter-of-factly, it takes you aback.

“Do—Jesus—do you truly think so poorly of me?” Your voice suddenly high. Looking up at Bradley, he finally meets your gaze.

“What? No.” He seems genuinely confused.

“You’d think I’d leave you at the first sign of trouble?” You’d actually feel offended, if you weren’t more panicked about Bradley apparently thinking you’d be that shallow.

“Everyone else did.” Bradley reply is so soft, so heartbroken, it stops your thoughts dead in their tracks.

“Oh Bradley…” You sigh. You’ve really put your foot in it. “I wouldn’t have fought like that if that was the case.” You search his eyes, and all you see is pain. “And I’m still here, still fighting.” You assure him.

“I can’t be the man you deserve.” Bradley suddenly admits. You blanch. “Not today, probably not tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll get there. Hell, I don’t even know where to go from here. But I think I can get there with you by my side.”

You’ve truly never wanted to slap sense into him more than at that moment. Instead, you grab him by the collar with your free hand, forcing him to look at you.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You bite out. Bradley’s eyes widen at your sudden mood change. “What I deserve? Forget that bullshit! Consider rather what I want, shit, consider what I need.”

Your tear stained cheeks are flaming red from indignation. You launch in what can only be described as the patented Williams spitfire barrage, not letting Bradley get a word in edge ways before you are done and well satisfied he finally gets it through his pretty but thick fucking skull he wasn’t the only one who is deeply invested in this relationship.

“You think I’d still be around after practically losing you the first time after San Diego, two fucking deployments and then some, plus you walking out last week if I didn’t fucking love you?! If I didn’t get what I need from this relationship, from you?!” Your voice is resolute, steadily rising in volume.

“Did you think I couldn’t handle you being a whole person, flaws and all? There’s a reason I was asking you to finally let me in. I want you to treat me as your equal, and fucking understand that watching you hurt, hurts me too.”

You take a breath, as Bradley opens his mouth to say something. No. You are not done yet.

“If I couldn’t offer you even a fucking semblance of the support and comfort you give me, it would be me who doesn’t deserve you.” Bradley’s eyes are large, a red tinge graces to the top of his ears. The fire in you dims and your voice softens. “What I’m saying is… I’ll be with you every step of the way, but you have to let me.”

Bradley heard your barrage, but his brain short circuits on every response. All he keeps circling back to you admitting you love him. He knows the words, but he can barely comprehend them.

You… love him?

Last week he was so angry he didn’t pay much heed to your almost-slip-of-the-tongue, but this time it seemed so much more… real. Eyes blazing, swearing at him, in the heat of the moment—he really shouldn’t think it so hot, not matter how much he normally enjoys getting a rise out of you.

Your hand is still clasped around the collar of his t-shirt. You’re looking at him with those big shining eyes—challenging him to dare argue with you after that.

He won’t.

Agonizingly slowly, almost cautiously as if he’s afraid he’ll scare you off, he bends his head over to yours. You don’t move, waiting for Bradley to complete the motion. Gently, he ghosts his lips over yours, waiting for you to respond. You let go of Bradley’s collar, splaying your hand over the wrinkled fabric on his chest instead before responding in kind, softly pressing your mouth against his.

If a kiss can feel like coming home, then this it, Bradley surmises.

Neither of you moves to deepen the kiss, simply content at sharing a deeply intimate moment while your breath mingles.

There is nothing left to prove, it’s enough to just be.

You have no idea how long you stand like that, lips touching, fingers still intertwined. Bradley pulls away a fraction, just so he can see your face.

“Just so we’re clear, I fucking love you too.” He murmurs softly, with a ghost of that trademark smirk tugging at his lips.

Oh Christ, you really blurted that out whole this time, didn’t you?

“You fucking better.” You counter, pursing your lips playfully, trying to ignore the furious blush spreading over your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You end up sitting on the floor together, leaning against the couch. Bradley’s arm wrapped around you, as you rest your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The silence that was tortuous before is soothing now. Just sitting there together, the orange light of dusk reflecting on the surrounding walls, you finally have some time to heal together.

Your stomach growls.

You shift uncomfortably. Fuck. Being an unfortunate subscriber to the heartbreak diet, you only had a bunch of coffee and a candy bar to tide you over today. Everything else tends to come out pretty quickly, as your stomach has been in absolute knots the whole week. Not that you’ll ever admit to that.

“Are you hungry?” Bradley asks softly, like he’s scared to break the comfortable atmosphere—like your stomach didn’t already do that.

“I should probably eat something.” You admit. “Did you eat?”

Bradley shakes his head. You know you have scarily little food in the house.

“Want to order pizza?” You smile up at him. “Like that first weekend?”

A grin breaks out on Bradley’s face. A real one that reaches his eyes. It makes your heart beat faster when you see him like this. When he smiles like that at you. Because of you.

Yeah, you completely blurted out you loved him without a second thought, but… how could you not? If felt so natural to say, you didn’t even beat an eyelash.

Hell, you refused to examine what on earth possessed you to almost tell him in the heat of your argument last week, because you really didn’t want to get into that kind of self-introspection hellhole while figuring out how to navigate the mess you made together.

Loving Bradley was just another puzzle piece falling into place.

“Which one do you want?” You hold your phone up to his face.

“Hmm, you know what I like.” Bradley’s voice is too low, too smooth in your ear. You shudder involuntarily. “Get some beers too, darlin’.”

You close your eyes for a moment. This man knows how to play you like a goddamn fiddle, and it’s so painfully obvious.

But you are also so hungry it’s almost making you dizzy.

Placing the order, you lean back against Bradley, settling back into the comfort of his arms. He presses a kiss against your hair.

“Bradley—babe, what’s in the box?” You ask, looking up at him. The cardboard box has been sitting in the middle of the room, right where Bradley placed it when he came in. You half-forgot that was his whole reason for coming, that he wanted you to hold on to something for him.

“Oh yeah- that’s…” Bradley chuckles awkwardly.

“You don’t have to tell me.” You interrupt quickly, remembering your sister’s words: you dig in and don’t know how to stop the bleeding. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“No, I brought it for that exact reason, actually.” Bradley admits lightly. “If there’s one person who would know what to do with it and that I trust completely, it would be you.”

You blush, not knowing how to respond.

“I spoke to Mav in the past week.” Bradley starts. “Penny says hi, by the way.”

You look at Bradley, eyebrows raised in surprise. Penny remembers who you are? And Bradley spoke to Mitchell…about you?

“And I guess…what we got to…,” Bradley contemplates his words from a moment. “I have a hard time talking about my past. It feels like it’s all overshadowed by my mom’s death, problems with Mav - like it infected everything that came before.”

You regard him carefully. Bradley seems at ease, like he’s accepted that situation as fact.

“But…” You prompt him gently.

“But I’m the one who let it come to that. I just don’t know how to untangle all those strands, I’ve spent the better part of a decade trying desperately not to think about it. And now I forgot how to talk about it.” His voice sounds so neutral, it’s raising your hackles. The fact he talks about his past in a such a calm way when it’s causing him such pain only underpins that he probably, actually forgot how to not only talk about, but also how to feel about it. Anger is easy to play off, but grief lasts.

“And what is it you’re looking to do with it now?” You ask him, not unkindly.

“I’m not sure.” Bradley admits. “I haven’t looked in that box since college.”

He looks at you deeply, pressing you against him tightly.

“If I’m going to open it, I want to do it with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] ok, so, I gave myself emotional damage writing this? It's weird, because I had been thinking about this chapter, the dialogue and everything for so long. And then when I sat down to write it, and it was fucking hard and hurt me in ways I honestly didn't anticipate? Hooray.

Anyway, good to know: the next chapter will be the last of the main story. I have an epilogue planned after that, and at least two side stories I really want to tell. So we're not totally done yet, but we're almost there. For now, happy holidays my sweethearts, and thank you for reading. <3

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader

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rayslittlekitten · 1 year

Text

I Almost Told You That I Loved You Ch. 11

Chapter 10 | IATYTILY Masterlist | Chapter 12

A/N: It's slowly coming together! This isn't beta'd.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,4k

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! reader

Plot: This takes place shortly after Tara leaves Charming. You start working at Teller-Morrow and an unlikely and messy relationship forms between you and Jax.

Warnings: None

You had scheduled the next two days off of work to focus on school. You have a big exam coming up and a paper due and you want to make sure you pass. It works out anyways because honestly Jax is the last person you want to see and he would be a major distraction from your studies, and not in a good way. You don't know what the hell happened yesterday that made Jax do a 180. Maybe he's just an asshole through and through and nothing he ever says or does actually means anything.

You take a break from studying to go make a grocery store run. As you're digging through your purse for your car keys, you find a strip of folded paper at the bottom. You pull it out and unfold it to see a phone number staring at you. Before making an early exit yesterday, you had ran into Will again and he gave you his phone number. You were never interested in him, but he seems like a nice guy. If there is someone to get romantically involved with, it should be him, but based off your short track record, nice guys are far from your radar. It might be time to change that. You deserve better. You had already decided you weren't going to bother calling him when he had given you his number, but you reluctantly shove the piece of paper back into your purse and head out.

***

As you're strolling down the cereal aisle, you pause to look for the Raisin Bran for your aunt. It's not where you usually find it. Your eyes then spot them up high on the top shelf. You try to reach up for it on your tiptoes. Who's bright idea was it to move them here?

"Hey, you need a hand?"

You turn your head and find Frankie standing a few feet away from you, holding a box of cereal of his own. You're surprised at running into him and the instant shift in his facial expression makes you realize he didn't seem to recognize you either until he saw your face.

"Yeah, that would be great," you flash him a smile.

Frankie walks over and reaches up to grab a box for you.

"Thanks!" You take it from him and put it in your basket.

"No problem. Didn't know you live in this side of town," Frankie says.

"Yeah. You live around here too?"

"Nah, my moms and baby sister does. Just picking up some things for them." He lifts up the box of fruity cereal in his hand. "So how are you doing? I didn't see you at Gemma's fundraiser yesterday."

"Oh, I left early. I wasn't really feeling well," you lie. "Plus, I have some homework to do and a big test coming up, so I wanted to get a head start on studying."

"You're smart. I like that," he nods while tapping his temple with his forefinger. "Don't meet too many broads like you."

You find Frankie charming in his own way, despite his interesting choice of vocabulary.

"Hey, you wanna maybe grab a cup of coffee some time?" You ask spontaneously.

"Nah, I don't do coffee," Frankie shakes his head. "Always gives me the jitters, like I did a line of coke."

You look back at him with a slight tilt to your head, amused.

"Okay, how about dinner? Just you and me..."

"OHHH," Frankie replies with wide eyes, shifting his weight to his other leg, realizing what you meant. "Listen, I'm really really flattered, but you're Jax's girl. You're untouchable." He raises his arms up in defeat.

“I’m not Jax’s girl,” you chuckle. “We're not together, together. We're just... fucking around," you explain.

"Not from what I see and hear. If he hasn't passed you around to any of us, it means he doesn't want nobody touching you," Frankie states. "That man doesn't play when it comes to his property.”

It takes you a moment to process this new information. You have so many questions.

"First of all, I am nobody's property. Second, what did you mean by he didn't pass me around to you guys? He... he does that with all the girls he sleeps with?"

"Yeah, I mean, usually he's wham, bam, thank you ma'am!" Frankie salutes. "And then he doesn't care anymore. Unless someone calls dibs first. He respects that."

You're not sure what to make of all this. It makes you feel uneasy and disgusted to hear all this, but at the same time, it makes absolutely no sense. Jax's actions and words have not matched up to what Frankie has imparted to you, but then again, Jax's actions and words have always contradicted each other.

"Well, I'm not Jax's girl, regardless of what you see or hear," you tell him with your hand on your waist.

Frankie simply shrugs.

"Look, as long as you're still fucking Jax, our interactions can't be anything more than friendly. I don't mean friendly friendly either," he explains.

"I see. Well, it was nice running into you, Frankie. Thanks for the help," you point to the cereal box in your basket.

"Of course. See you around," he nods and you both start walking away, but you stop and turn.

"Wait!"

Frankie turns back.

"What happened between him and Tara?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. It ain't my story to tell," Frankie shakes his head and walks off.

***

Your first day back at work was pretty standard. It was easy avoiding Jax all day since him and Opie were out doing club stuff. As you gather your things to get ready to leave, you hear motorcycles pulling into the lot. You walk over to the window to check. Great, the club's back.

You quickly grab all your things and walk to your car. As you do so, you pass behind the row of motorcycles that just pulled up. A few people notice you and greet with a nod. You politely nod back as you continue your way to your car. You accidentally make eye contact with Jax when he takes his helmet off. You instantly look away and focus on your car which is only a few feet away.

When you get into the driver's side you start the car and wait a few moments. You look out the passenger side window to look towards Jax, but don't see him. A sudden knock on your window startles you. You look over and see Jax waving at you. You roll down the window and he leans his arms against the top of the car, dipping his head down in the open space.

"Hey," he greets.

"Hey," you reply flatly.

"Just wanted to give this back to you. You left it at my place." Jax pulls a hair clip out from his pocket and hands it to you.

You glance down at it, staring at it for a moment before taking it from him.

"Thanks," you simply say, then get ready to back your car up.

"Wait!"

You look over to him, waiting for him to say something.

"What are you doing this Friday?"

"Excuse me?" you ask, not sure if you heard correctly.

"You wanna hang out Friday?" he looks away as he asks.

"Do you want to hang out on Friday?" you shoot back.

"Yeah, I do," he nods, then pauses. "Um... Ope told me about your classmate."

When you had bumped into Opie on the way out of the fundraiser, he apologized to you on Jax's behalf and you explained to him the same you did with Frankie - you and Jax are not exclusive. You also mentioned to him that Will was just a classmate and there was nothing going on, not that it's any of Jax's business anyways.

"What about him?" you ask curiously.

"Nothing," he shrugs. "Are we good?"

"Are we good?" you ask back.

"I am if you are," he says.

"What if I'm not?"

"Look I..." Jax looks around as he tries to find the words. "Can we talk about this Friday?"

You look at him for a few moments deciding.

"JAX! COME ON! WE GOT CHURCH!" someone yells out to him.

"Give me a minute!" He looks over the roof of the car and shouts before dipping his head back down to you.

"Okay, fine," you blurt out.

A genuine smile plays upon his face.

"Great. See you tomorrow," he winks, then slaps the roof of your car and back away.

You throw him a smile and he watches as you pull out of the lot.

#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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riaarivic · 1 year

Text

HATE 6: BABOOSHKA (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death, drugs and vioence, foul language, mentions of organized crime. I do not condone any of my characters actions: This is purely a work of fictions. You have been warned.

🌙 Chapter wordcount 4.1k

🌙 Series Index

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 6: BABOOSHKA (M) I MYG x F!reader

"So she arranged a place to go. To see. If he. Would fall for her incognito"

Seven Moons Mansion, Seoul, South Korea

You sighed in relief when you heard Jin say that Suga had left in the morning to oversee a gun shipment that was going to be sent from Russia and probably wouldn't be back for days.

The six remaining brothers ate breakfast together in the dining room. The walls were painted a deep shade of burgundy, with framed black and white photos of the Clan's story hanging.

You could also see some pictures of them scattered on the walls. It would be really cute if you weren’t also looking at the young faces of Asia’s Most wanted criminals.

On the table, there are several dishes of traditional Korean cuisine, including kimchi, bulgogi, and bibimbap all made for you by a private chef. The dishes are arranged on black ceramic plates, with elegant chopsticks and small bowls of dipping sauces placed alongside them. In one corner of the room, there is a small bar, stocked with a variety of top-shelf liquors and a few bottles of Soju…

All the details you rather think about to prevent your mind from remembering last night.

You were absolutely not going to think about how good his fingers felt on your skin.

Or how good he made you feel with his…

Oh, fuck.

The Lieutenant would be so proud of you that she would personally take charge of shooting you.

That if she found out...

Something that wasn't going to happen, because there was no way that you’ll write on the report that you fucked one of the mission's main targets on your second night in Korea. Your common sense had decided to fly off to Fiji for a permanent vacation the moment Suga kissed you.

Or did you kiss him?

Shit.

You knew that you were acting like a rookie

But you had to kiss him even if you did it just once. You had to know how his lips would feel on yours, his hands on your body.

You just had to know...

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

It was 3AM in the morning when you woke up, bodies tangled on his bed, it just felt so right and so absolutely wrong and out of place. Suga was still sleeping, breathing slowly like he didn’t have a care in the world. You rose from the bed and left the dark bed sheets fall from your body.

You felt like a teenager in college about to walk the walk of shame for the first time.

But instead of the hormone-filled hallways of the mid western university you attended and could only stand for a month. You were about to do that same walk of shame on the dark hallways of a 20 Bedroom Mansion in the outskirts of South Korea.

You swear it would be the last time you'd done something like that.

Right?

Did you mention those rooms were also filled with blood thirsty criminals?

Your mind stopped wandering for a second when you heard heavy footsteps walking towards Suga’s bedroom.

He told you no one went to that side of the house.

Did He lie?

Because someone was getting closer to the very much open door.

You had to get out of there.

And you had to get out fast.

You turned around to see Suga awake and wide eyed looking at you half dressed. You didn’t need to say it to each other, you both knew if someone saw you there you were both dead. He motioned for you to stay right where you were standing next to the bed, so he could peek into the hallway.

But you couldn't wait and risk someone seeing you like this, what were you going to say? What were they reading poetry Half naked? Or that you had a spider under your skirt and he tried to kill it by taking all of your clothes and his clothes off?

Well, he kind of did that.

The point is that if you said you weren't doing what you seemed to be doing. No one was going to believe you.

Because you were doing exactly what you seemed to be doing.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of at the time.

If the door wasn't an option...

You were going to jump off the balcony and into the gardens on the first floor.

It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something like that.

So you did.

You fell on heavily your feet and did not quite lose your balance. When you looked up you could see the face of panic and astonishment with which Suga was looking at you from his balcony. He definitely didn't expect you to do something like that.

You brushed the dust off your knees and continued walking towards your bedroom. As you went up to the second floor, you managed to see a tall figure entering the darkness of the corridors of the west wing of the mansion.

The moonlight hit his face for just a second and in that moment you could clearly see who it was...

What is Kim Namjoon doing outside at this time of night?

Although it was dark, you could also see that his shirt was stained with blood and for a second you were tempted to follow him to find out more, but it had been too much adrenaline for one night.

And you really didn't want to get caught.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

“Miss Nari, did you sleep well?” the voice of a smiling Jimin brought you out of your thoughts from the other side of the table.

“I don't think she did. I mean, she couldn’t have if she was walking around the house at 3AM in the morning” Taehyung replied, staring at you right next to his brother.

He saw you...

Everybody else on that table wasn't really paying attention to Taehyung but he kept going at you like he was on a mission “But what I don't understand is why use the windows as an exit. You do know that Suga-Hyung's door is always open, right miss Nari?” the blue-haired man shrugged his shoulders with a giggle and you looked at him with panic on your face.

Hearing that, Jin choked on the rice he had just put in his mouth and Jhope was about to spit out his toast with egg and jam.

The whole table was now looking at you in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Everyone except Namjoon, who let out an incredulous laugh “Taehyung, don't tell me you're trying the merchandise again. To think that Miss Nari would be jumping out of the windows of the house is so ridiculous that it is disrespectful. Apologize to her.” he said the last thing as an order, the deep dragon eyes of the clan’s right hand were undoubtedly one of the most intimidating things you had ever seen.

Taehyung immediately understood his older brother's tone and swallowed thickly “I'm sorry, Miss Nari. It was just a joke” he looked at you with a bored expression.

This guy definitely hated you and for no reason.

"Don't worry, it's okay" you replied trying to smile at him and continued eating your breakfast as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

The rest of the meal was spent in complete silence, which made most of them quite uncomfortable.

“Princess Nari, you must be excited today, your formal work within the clan begins” Jhope was the first to dare to speak “You will go with Namjoon and Jin to some boring meetings at the office. But tonight will be so exciting at the club. It has been very long since the last time we were all together having fun”

Ah yes, the Club.

Serendipity was the most exclusive club in all of Seoul. It was no surprise it belonged in the hands of the clan and was managed by none other than Park Jimin.

If you want to spend an exciting night in the city you just had to look for him.

“Every night in my club is entertaining, Hobi-hyung, you know very well about that” the blond glanced at his brother “but it will be much more fun if we can all be there, Jin-hyung hasn't been there for a long time. Maybe it’s time to dust off those terrible dance steps” now everyone was laughing out loud as Jin yelled at the youngest.

You had only known them for a short time, but you were surprised by the family warmth they all had when they were together. Right now inside the privacy of their home they didn't look like criminals. Sometimes when they were like that they really did look like a bunch of brothers.

That almost made you smile.

Before you remembered that each and every one of those men had blood on their hands.

None of them were innocent.

And each and every one them had to pay for their crimes.

“Excuse me, I'm going to get ready to go to the office. See you tonight guys” You made a small bow ready to leave the dining hall, when someone grabbed your arm from behind.

“Allow me to go with you, Miss Nari, I would like to speak with you for a second” Namjoon was right next to you without giving you time to say anything else, taking you by the arm and out of the dining room.

Namjoon looked around and with large steps led you to a corridor that was completely empty to push you against a wall. You could see an emotion in his eyes that you could not decipher “I don't want to have to tell you this again, but whatever you were doing last night. Will not happen again. Are we clear?” The voice of the young leader was deep almost like a growl coming from his chest and you could only nod.

He had seen you too.

“I don't know what stupid fantasy my idiot brother has made you believe. But Miss Nari” he let out a little exasperated sigh “He's not a person, he's a monster, for your own good stay away from him. Everything Suga touches, he destroys. Believe me he is not good for you”

Are you jealous, Kim Namjoon? you raised an eyebrow at the tought.

“And you are, Namjoon? I mean, are you good for me?” Finding your voice again, you shot the question with an expression as cold as ice. That took the man by surprise “And to be honest with you, Namjoon. I really don't know what you're talking about. Because I definitely wasn't the one who was sneaking away in the halls with a bloody shirt. That was you.” he opened his eyes in surprise and you continued "I get it, you're a gangster. You were probably giving someone a one way ticket to their next life. But you looked kind of nervous last night. So if you ask me, I don't think you were doing Right Hand ganster business. Am I wrong?"

If he had seen you, you also saw him.

And you knew you were walking a thin line before falling off the cliff.

Namjoon set his jaw and tightened his grip on your arm “You are playing with fire Lee Nari and let me tell you something… andyou are about. To. Get. Burnt” He bit every word of that sentence, making himself very clear that he was threatening you.

“So how is it? I must be afraid of Suga but not of you, even though you're hurting my arm and you just threatened me” although you and Namjoon were impossibly close, you took a step closer to be able to whisper in his ear. Yes, you were playing with fire. But what the right hand didn't know is that you really liked the burn “As see it, we both didn't see anything last night because neither of us were where we were.”

He was listening carefully to your words while drowning you with his gaze. You knew he was waiting for you to continue “I also remember that I told you to call me by my name. Because we're friends right, Namjoon? We are together in this” You say stepping away from him and releasing yourself from the man's grasp in a single movement “I'm going up to get ready for today, I understand that your father wants you to show me the offices. See you in a bit, Namjoon. I am really looking forward to getting to know eachother more” you said with a smile and a wink before turning to walk to your bedroom.

Namjoon chuckled, stupefied.

It was actually funny to him.

No one had ever dared to challenge him like that. Not his own brothers, not even Jin who was two years older than him had the nerve to talk to him like that.

And after that moment you became a fun game that this man was willing to play.

Because for Kim Namjoon there was no one who would not bow down to his power.

It would be fun for him to tame this little brat.

After all, he was used to having everything he wanted.

He would be the heir to the clan.

And you would be his.

He was going to make sure of that personally.

Even if he had to get his hands dirty.

Again.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

BH Group Headquarters, Gangnam, Seoul, South Korea.

The luxurious office is situated on the top floor of the towering skyscraper that belongs solely to the BH Group, The Seven Moon’s legal business front. The elevator doors open up to a spacious and sophisticated reception area, decorated with marble floors, plush velvet sofas, and a cascading waterfall feature.

Namjoon, ushered you into a private elevator reserved for the clan's top executives. As the elevator ascends, you catch glimpses of the sprawling cityscape through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was beautiful.

We’re not in Kansas anymore, you thought, feeling impressed by the opulence of the office and the power that comes with it.

But as you look around the lavish office, you can't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

That you were in danger.

But this was what you came here to do.

Looking at your surroundings, everything seemed normal, mundane. You had to be a member of the mafia, or an undercover INTERPOL agent, to realize what was really going on behind the incessant noise of photocopiers and constant clicking in every cubicle.

Only a highly trained eye could tell that some of the employees weren't really working, they were just pretending to.

If you looked closely enough, you could see the fact that some of those employees were wearing far too many items of clothing, as if they were trying to hide a clan mark or tattoo.

But Jhope was right, for the rest of the day you were totally bored.

The unnecessarily formal presentations and spending the entire afternoon listening to bootlicking executives presenting their departments. All while you just had to smile and look pretty.

The perfect, educated heiress.

This day had completely drained your energy.

“Miss Nari, this is Grace Rogers, she also comes from America and will be your assistant from today” Namjoon's deep voice made you come out of your trance, he took your hand to take you to an office at the end of the hall.

Inside it was a petite blonde typing rapidly on her computer while talking on the phone with perfect Korean pronunciation.

Wow, to think that I can hardly pass myself off as a native.

The woman stopped everything she was doing when she realized the presence of the new arrivals. Taking a good look at her, you thought she might be on the cover of a fashion magazine, dressed in a distinctly designer navy blue suit that matched her eyes.

She was tiny, the amount of papers, folders and screens almost did not let you see her on the other side of the desk. But when she smiled she had an aura that covered the entire room. Grace Rogers had an air of confidence, like a woman who's used to swimming with sharks.

But what caught your attention about the woman was the amount of gold she was carrying. Rings, earrings and at least three chains.

You have seen that before.

But couldn’t remember where.

And before you knew it Grace was hugging you too enthusiastically.

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Lee, I'm at your service for whatever you need” That's when you noticed a small detail, behind her effusive greeting and even bigger smile was a slight Slavic accent.

Polish?

No.

Russia?

Maybe.

Namjoon looked at the blonde as if he was already used to her behavior “Grace will be at your disposal for everything you need. And she will accompany you in some of your family tasks. Also she will make sure that you adapt perfectly to your new life with us” he emphasized in the last two words.

“Of course! I hope we will be great friends from now on. These boys are too all work, no play.” It was almost imperceptible but it was there, that accent. You narrowed your eyes a little but returned the greeting with a short curtsy.

"Likewise, it's a pleasure for me too, Grace. Call me Nari, please" He told her and the blonde winked at her.

"It's a fact, Nari. By the way, I love that Chanel dress, that white lily tone reminds me of one that I bought two summers ago in the south of France” Her entire expression said complicity, there was something else in her words but you weren't sure what.

Unless…

The hell? you thought, your dress was definitely not white.

It was lilac.

Wait a minute, white lilies in the south of France?

Oh...

Oh shit.

Blue-eyed blonde.

Russian.

Her name is not Grace Rogers.

This woman was Anya Drozdov.

Your second informant.

Anya works for Interpol.

And sje just told you the code phrase to identify her.

Oh shit, really.

You gave her a wide smile now, letting her know that you understood.

Namjoon looked confused at the exchange between the two of you but before he could say anything Seokjin joined you.

“Namjoon they are waiting for us in the meeting room, father wants to discuss something important” Jin stopped in front of the three of them in the office corridor “Oh, Hi Grace, do you think you can take over from here?”

“Of course, boss, I'm sure Miss Lee, sorry Nari must not have had lunch. Also, I'm sure you haven't taken her for a tour of Seoul yet” Her accent had completely disappeared, Anya had realized that you also recognized her.

“Is it okay with you, Miss Nari?” Namjoon asked feeling unsure

“Yes, I'm starving.” you gave him a little smile “and I would also like to visit Seoul. It is been a while since the last time I came here”

"Perfect then. Grace, please take her shopping for a dress for tonight. I would have loved to do it myself, but my father doesn't like us making him wait.” Namjoon took out his black credit card from his wallet and gave it to you with a wink “See you later, Miss Nari.” You heard Jin chuckle behind him and tried not to roll your eyes, amused that the Right Hand believed that his rich boy bad boy technique was going to work for you.

Two can play that game.

“Oh I’ll make sure to get something especially pretty for tonight” you said the last two words without breaking eye contact with the Right Hand “See you later, Namjoon, Jin-ssi” you could see the gears on Namjoon’s mind turning when you gave him the most innocent smile you could ever fake.

It actually made your stomach cringe.

He really is into the innocent kind.

Gross.

"And try not to cause too much trouble, Rogers." Namjoon added before getting lost as he crossed the corner of the hallway not even looking back at you. Jin was right behind him with an amused grin as he witnessed his brother get all flustered by a mere smile.

To think they were both going up to interrogate and possibly torture an informant in his father’s office. But yeah, there goes Namjoon giggling like a schoolgirl.

When Anya and you were alone again she started to walk towards the employee elevator. You noticed that you were surrounded by an army of bodyguards, all dressed in tailored suits and sporting earpieces all following “The Boss’s orders” and you couldn’t help but wonder which one. “I'm going to take you to a Korean food place that I'm sure you'll like and then we're going to…”

Once you got in the elevator the bodyguard army let you ride alone and you took the chance to greet Anya in Russian “It has been a while, right?” you interrupted the short woman and she shot you a serious look, hardening her expression and stopping her smile for the first time since you had met her.

“Not here, Princess Nari” she looked up at the surveillance camera on the corner of the elevator above you. They didn’t have one in the first one you got on. Maybe the top executives of BH really didn’t want to be seen entering the building. “The driver and your bodyguards are waiting for us in the parking lot” she continued speaking in Korean and gave you a big smile again.

Not here...

Princess Nari.

Why would she call you that?

This day was definitely getting a lot more interesting.

The elevator doors opened and you stepped out into the parking lot where three men were waiting for them in front of a black Lincoln SUV. In that moment you knew two things: one the car was heavily armored and the bodyguards would leave you alone for long enough to talk.

Meanwhile Anya chattered non-stop on the way to the restaurant and kept talking all through the meal. Mentioning completely trivial facts like her favorite Korean food, her opinion on New York Fashion Week, even why in her opinion MARVEL was ruining their own superhero movies.

You knew what Anya was doing, she was tiring the bodyguards with all the chatter that could go through her head.

She was making them drop their guard and stop listening to their conversation.

It was necessary, but it didn't make it any less insufferable.

By the time you got to the Boutique none of the bodyguards could hear another word. Now you could finally talk about what was important. All the information that Anya had collected so that you could fulfill her mission.

That was Anya's specialty.

She went from one personality to another, with the same ease that a chameleon could change colors. That made it the perfect element to adapt to any situation.

She could pose as any role assigned to her by headquarters.

An American woman working as the director of public relations at a Korean multinational? It was a perfect identity for her.

She's an expert at playing the role of a high-powered executive, attending meetings and making deals with ease. But beneath the surface, she's always alert and ready to act at a moment's notice.

Always carrying a concealed gun.

You know, if you’re always ready… you don’t have to get ready.

Anya is the type of girl you do not fuck with.

She had been there for a year and had already earned the trust of the two young leaders in charge of the BH group. Even Namjoon considered her a friend.

Anya was famous at the training center for her skills.

But despite her ability to go undercover and her chameleonic personality. Anya was loyal in every sense of the word, she cared for her loved ones like no one else and had a special kink for revenge when someone tried to hurt them.

That was perhaps because Anya had also grown up in crime.

She was the daughter of a Russian mafia boss who had been imprisoned a few years ago in an Interpol maximum security prison and her mother had been kidnapped and sold on the skin market.

That completely destroyed her.

That's why she vowed never to get involved with a clan again.

Some old habits take a little longer to break than others, and her skills were of great use to Interpol's organized crime unit. So here you were: both agents, in an exclusive boutique in Seoul buying an evening dress that would bring down even the strongest of the men of that clan.

“Hello, welcome to our boutique. '' They were greeted by a strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenties with long, dark hair, piercing eyes and a pointy nose that you thought you had seen before.

“Nari, This is Jung Garam, she is the owner of this boutique and my roommate”

The woman gave you a little bow before introducing herself “It's a pleasure to meet you. Miss Lee, we were waiting for the arrival of the princess of our clan”

Princess.

There was that name again.

That's when you saw it.

A small tattoo of a Moon covered by clouds that adorned Anya’s wrist.

Pointing out the oath of allegiance she had taken.

The symbol of the Seven Moons.

Anya had sworn allegiance to the clan.

But why?

Princess Nari.

You knew you had heard someone call you that before.

Oh fuck

Anya what were you thinking?

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