#I need a forty year nap

[bjorkshire-pudding]

Here's what I was doing while I was supposed to be working on my fics

Don't ask me, I don't know either it's been a really weird day

[anisespice]

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.

cont.

synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!

When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...

He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.

That man got up and left immediately.

He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.

Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.

His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.

However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”

“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”

“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.

A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?

How could you…how could you?

Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.

By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?

RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.

He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?

Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”

Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”

“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”

He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”

The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”

Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.

After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”

The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”

“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you��re not a stranger.”

This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.

“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”

The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”

Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”

Ran’s smirk dropped.

Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.

SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.

However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.

And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.

He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…

“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”

Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.

Wait…Mister? Not…dad?

The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”

Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?

The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”

You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.

So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?

“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”

“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.

Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[authorhjk1]

Idk if you saw but Yuri of SNSD posted a bikini pic, hoping we can get a sunbae series out of that or just a quickie one shot? She’s driving me nuts lol.

Shore leave

(Kwon Yuri X Julie X Belle X Natty X Haneul X Male Reader)

"Captain!"

You tear your eyes off the controls and turn around. Your XO is standing behind you.

"We've just reported back that our mission was a success. We will enter Honolulu Harbor within twenty minutes."

"Prepare to surface the boat."

"Aye, captain."

Jackson turns to his left.

"Chief of the Watch, blow main ballast tanks!"

The chief of Watch replies.

"Blow main ballast tanks, aye. Blowing main ballast tanks."

You start to walk towards the captain's cabin to finish your report. There is no need for you to be standing around the control room. The thirty man crew can do this while asleep.

"All ahead one-third, surface!"

"Raising the planes!"

"Clear the baffles!"

Opening the door, you look back into the control room. Jackson is standing at its center, overlooking everyone's actions.

"Periscope raised."

The man behind him, Miller, is making sure that it's free to surface.

"Surface is clear!"

You step inside and close the door behind you.

"Surface! Surface! Surface!"

Jackson's command is the last you hear as your submarine is about to see daylight once more.

Stepping foot on land feels odd after forty days underwater. You try to walk as normal as possible, while your crew follows you off the boat. A group of soldiers walk in your direction.

"Captain."

The man salutes you and you do the same.

"Major."

He extends his hand for you to shake.

"Happy birthday, old man."

"Thank you."

You laugh, happy to see him again for the first time in years.

"You and your crew deserve some rest while you're here."

He hands you a couple black cards, which look like key cards to hotel rooms.

"You should stay at a fancier place than the barracks. Order from the lieutenant colonel."

"I appreciate it. Please give him my thanks."

"I will. Now get out of here."

The two of you pat each other's shoulder, before you keep walking.

"Skipper."

You acknowledge lieutenant Kang's presence. The young man is barely 22 years old, but his career has been impressive so far. The worst thing about him? He found out that you used to listen to kpop.

"Have you talked to the major yet, sir?"

"I did."

The two of you walk in silence, while the crew walks after you, until Kang can't hold it in anymore.

"Did he give me permission to-"

"He did. But you have to behave yourself, lieutenant. No drinking, no fights, or any other way to get yourself into trouble."

You know that he has a short temper. But you trust him not abuse your trust.

"Everyone is on leave. And you're allowed to go to their concert."

"Thank you, sir."

You sigh as you reach the car that the major has left for you. Most of your men will head to the barracks. You, Jackson and Miller all got a room at a hotel, being the highest ranking officers on board. And you're letting the young lieutenant tag along.

After checking in, you decided to head to the hotel's pool. Being trapped in a steel cage several miles underwater with thirty men can get on your nerves. And since it's your birthday, you're more than happy to relax and clean your body. Although the number one reason to why you're not in your room, taking a well deserved nap, are the women. You don't remember the last time you talked with a woman for over ten minutes within almost a year. Living in your barracks, training younger soldiers and going on missions that take more than a month, don't leave you with a lot of free time. And the last months had been stressful and draining.

You realize that there aren't many empty deck chairs left as you make your way through the rather crowded area around the pool.

"Skipper!"

You turn your head to see Jackson, who is already sitting on one of the chairs. Miller is sitting to his left, while one on the right still seems to be empty. Skipper is usually not the term captains are addressed with, and some would tell them to shut the hell up, but you're easygoing. At least on land, when you're not on a mission. As long as your men know that you're in charge, you don't really care what they call you.

"Well, you guys came out here really quick."

"Forty days. I need some sun, sir."

You smirk at Miller's complaint, before getting comfortable on the empty chair.

"Do you know how long we have, until we get going again?"

You shake your head at Jackson's question.

"I don't. But I know what our next mission is about."

The two men don't ask for more information, knowing full well that you're not gonna tell them in a public area like this one.

"Let's hope we can relax a little longer than last time."

"Agreed."

You close your eyes, while you listen to the two men chatting.

"I like it here. The weather is nice."

"Just the weather?"

When you open your eyes again, you realize that you've fallen asleep. Quickly looking to your left, you don't see Miller or Jackson.

"Bastards."

You mumble, knowing what they're up to. The three of you have been become good friends over the years. It would surprise you, if they weren't out and about right now, looking for a bar to take you to later today.

"Excuse me?"

You turn to your right, only now realizing that someone is sitting there.

Her face is hidden by her bucket hat and her sunglasses. But it's not her face you're focused on right now anyway. Your eyes quickly scan her barely clothed body. Her white bikini matches the bucket hat. Even without seeing her face, you can tell how beautiful she is.

"I apologize. I wasn't talking to you. I just realized that my friends ran off without me."

"Those are some great friends you have."

"Well, I can't blame them. I already overheard them talking about a party this morning."

"Oh a party? What's to celebrate?"

"It's my birthday today."

"Congratulations. I hope you have a great year."

"Thank you. It would already improve my year quite a lot, if I knew your name."

You see her chuckle at your attempt to flirt with her. She hesitates for a moment, before she answers.

"Yuri. Kwon Yuri."

"Nice to meet you."

You reach out your hand and she shakes it as you tell her your name.

Hers does sounds familiar, but you can't really tell.

"Are you here on vacation as well?"

You shake your head at her question.

"Not exactly. Me and my crew are just having a shore leave, while we wait for our next mission."

"Oh, you're in the military?"

"I am. Navy."

"Oh, that's so cool. Do you work on one of those big ships that are lying in the harbor nearby? I walked past them yesterday."

"No, I'm the captain of a submarine. We only got here a couple hours ago."

"Submarine? You don't hear that everyday."

You try to steer the conversation in another direction. There isn't much to talk about when it comes to your job anyways. At least not something you're allowed to talk about.

"So you're here on vacation?"

You haven't had the pleasure of sleeping with a woman for way too long. And you have to admit it's getting harder to restrain yourself. If your lucky and Yuri is down for something more than just talking...

"I am. I've been working a lot recently and thought I would take a break, now that my project is done."

"Your project?"

"I'm an actress."

"I'm actually not surprised to hear that. It would be a shame if someone beautiful like you didn't show her face on TV."

You bite your lip, knowing that you're going a little fast here. But if this the opportunity you were hoping for, you're definitely going to take it.

"Thank you. Although I like to think that I got this far because of my skills. Not because I'm pretty."

You nod in understanding.

"That's true. Have I seen you in anything? Or have you just started acting?"

"I've been doing this for a while, but I doubt you've seen me before."

"Okay, then. What genre do you usually do? Action? Romance?"

"I played a love interest of the male lead for my last project."

"Damn. Now I'm jealous of the guy who played him."

Yuri laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.

"You can't keep complementing me like this."

"Why not? I haven't seen a woman in over a month. I have to get everything out of my system at some point."

"Well, there are a lot of beautiful women here. I think you're being a little unjust by only giving me your attention."

Her smile tells you that she doesn't really mind at all. You make a point of looking around the area and the pool.

"Nope. I think I'm talking with the most beautiful woman here, right now."

"You can't stop, can you?"

Her amused smile makes you smile too.

"Like I said, I need someone to let this all out on."

You didn't expect Yuri to slightly bite her lip at your words. And then you realize that one could take your words in a different way.

"You really seem to be in need of some.... release."

You clear your throat.

"But you can keep going of course."

Yuri takes off her sunglasses and now smiles at you with her eyes as well. You already knew she was beautiful, but this is on another level. At the same time, you do feel like you've seen her before. Maybe in a movie?

"It's not like I don't like it..."

"I need more."

Yuri gives you a happy and proud smile, before you capture her lips once more. You pin her against your hotel room's door. The two of you engage in another kiss. It's filled with passion and lust. You've been waiting for this for months. You don't know the last time Yuri got off. But judging from how hard she is kissing you back, you guess that it has been a while for her too. Or she's just turned on as hell.

Your hands leave her waist and start to explore her exposed skin. Yuri yanks off her bucket hat and throws it behind you. Her hair is a little more messy now as her own hands roam your body. While one of yours trails along the strings of her bikini towards the knots on her back, one of hers uses a finger and slowly travels down your spine, giving you goosebumps. Your second hand is lazily drawing circles on her flat midriff before it playfully tugs at the strings right beneath her chest. Her other hand mirrors your circles, but on your chest. You can feel her paying extra attention to your large tattoo, which she looked at earlier a little too long.

While you keep your lips locked with hers, you start to slowly undo Yuri's knots on her back. She draws along the lines of your tattoo. A big anchor. An equally sized dragon is winding itself around it.

Once you are finished with the first knot, you feel Yuri's breath shake a little as you both give each other a second to breathe. But soon, you're back at it again. Her hand, previously on your back, is now on your hip as she plays with the waistband of your trunks. Another knot follows the first.

You are getting bolder, now that she allowed you to undo her bikini. You let your hands travel along her waist and up to her chest. Yuri breaks the kiss as she feels your hands over her top. You give her tits a squeeze, making Yuri let out a moan. She has a smile on her face again, her arms now loosely placed on your shoulders. Her head slowly rolls back as you keep kneading her soft mounds.

"Your hands feel great. I love it."

Yuri now lets her own travel down your figure, until they're reach your trunks once more. You reach behind her and finally undo her top, before slowly taking it off her. Taking in the sight of her tits, you stay in place for a moment. But then you feel Yuri undo the tie on the front of your boxers agonizingly slow. You finally look into her eyes. She stares back at you as her fingers do their work.

Once she is done, you feel her thumbs glide between your skin and the waistband. Slowly she pulls them down. Around halfway past your hips, your trunks fall to the floor on their own. Yuri has a satisfied smile on her face as she looks down on you.

After you'd taken off her bottoms too, there wasn't much time or need for foreplay. You led Yuri to your bed, where you lied down and had her lie on top of you. Now you're enjoying yourself, tasting her delicious pussy, while you feel her soft lips glide up and down on your shaft. The position enables you to freely do with her lower half what you want to. You knead her full cheeks and pull them apart occasionally, while you let your tongue glide along her labia, before sucking on her clit. Yuri's moans are almost silenced by your dick in her mouth, which sends shivers up your spine. You feel her hands on your thighs and as she picks up the pace, it almost seems like she is fucking her face onto your cock. Just the thought of that makes you put in even more effort.

Soon, they both of you have made a mess of each other. You can't help but groan into her pussy, whenever Yuri takes you as deep as she can. And Yuri moans and sometimes let's her fingernails glide over your thighs, whenever you let your tongue flick against her clit.

When you both feel the increasing need to finally be as intimate as possible, Yuri momentarily gets off you, before turning around. Her face gets closer to yours once more as she sinks herself down on you. Her soft mounds press against your chest, you feel her nipples rub against your skin. But that's not the best part. The best part is the way Yuri's tight snatch slowly takes you inside. It leaves you breathing a little faster, her wet lips wrapping themselves around your shaft as tight as possible. A satisfied smile lingers on Yuri's lips as she leans down to kiss yours. She is now lying flat on top of you. Her hands are playing with your hair, while yours rest on her lower back, occasionally darting out to give one of her cheeks a playful squeeze.

The two of you take it slow, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. You were afraid you wouldn't last long at first, but the slow love making enables you to go longer than you expected. Yuri barely moves on top of you, slightly circling her hips, making your cock move inside of her. The two of you share one kiss after another. Her fingers comb through your hair. And she gives it a slight tug, whenever you hit the right spot inside of her. Yuri's breasts are pressed against your chest, her nipples rubbing against your skin.

Having your hands on her cheeks, you carefully start to move her back and forth. It brings more motion into the two of you. Yuri's lips find yours once more, while she lets out a moan, feeling her pussy glide along your cock. The more you make her move, the better it feels for the both of you. Your fingers begin to dig into her flesh and Yuri leaves a bite on your skin here and there. Looking up at her, you see her eyes are only half open, her eyelids heavy with pleasure.

"Oh my god."

Yuri lets out a loud sigh into your neck. It's the first time she spoke, since she took you inside. You feel her moving on her own now, so you let your hands travel along her back. Her hair is covering the both of you right now, serving as a makeshift curtain as it blocks out the sunlight.

Closing your eyes, you just enjoy the moment. How Yuri moves herself along your body on top of you. How her pussy glides along your shaft, her wet walls squeezing every inch. How her nipples move over your skin. How her moans reach your ear, whenever she doesn't lock her lips with yours.

"Yuri..."

You took too long. Focusing on the moment, feeling this gorgeous woman on top of you. You realize there is no turning back, the moment you open your eyes. Yuri bites her lower lip, looking down on you. She nods, giving you permission to finish what the two of you started.

You quickly reach down her back, your arms wrapping around her lower back, right above her ass. Instinctively, you let your legs slip out from underneath her and raise them, burying your heels into the mattress.

"Oh wow."

Yuri lets out a gasp. To her it feels like you just gained another inch. You start to fuck her now. A little faster than she moved before. Her arms now lying next to your shoulders, supporting her weight as she pushes her upper body higher. You can't stop yourself. Taking in the sight of her beautiful tits right in front of you, you fuck Yuri harder. She can't help but smile down on you, flattered by the way you seem to love every single part of her body.

"Yuri..."

You sigh her name once more. Yuri let's out a moan herself a moment later. She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You raise your hips a little higher, which makes you lift hers too. More and more of your cum invades Yuri's tight cavern, making her head sink onto yours once more.

The two of you stay in place, even after both of you have calmed down. Yuri is still lying on top of you. She has moved a little further down though to be able to comfortably place her head on your chest. Her toned midriff is pressed against your cock. You feel her fingers trace over your tattoo once more.

"You know...."

Yuri starts to talk after a while.

"My room is two floors higher. 5003. Just in case you..."

You crack a smile, your hand slowly stroking her hair.

"I will keep that in mind."

"Are you telling me that everyone is coming?"

You sigh, already knowing that this night will not end well. You expected the three guys to throw you a low profile party at a bar. Just the four of you.

"Yes, everyone. Plus, everyone else who is at the barracks and gets to go out tonight."

"Oh that's just great. How many men is that?"

Miller shrugs his shoulders.

"Fifty?"

You give him a disapproving glare. Now you wish you'd have stayed longer in bed with Yuri.

"Oh come on. They all love you. You know you have a reputation, right? No failed mission? Highest success rate?"

"So?"

Miller leads you down a long street which is taking you further to the beach.

"That doesn't mean I have to like that you invited fifty people."

"Relax, skipper."

He gives you a pat on the shoulder as you two reach the bar the three of them found earlier today. Looking to your right, you see the sunset. The sea is coloured in a beautiful orange. You'd have loved to take a moment and take in the view. You haven't seen a sunset in over a month. But Miller destroys your plan by opening the door. Music and shouts invade your ears. You walk inside, followed by Jackson, Miller and Kang. Most of the tables, around 10, are filled by men in uniforms, while two are occupied by other guests. One group looks like tourists, while the other makes you look at four gorgeous faces. Even after you were able to have sex with Yuri, you can't help but glance at the four girls a second longer. They all look significantly younger than you, with the girl on the far right looking like she just got fresh out of high school.

"Captain!"

One of the men spotted you and is now standing up. The laughter and chatter dies down. The other soldiers follow his example. You wait until everyone is standing. You hear Miller's voice behind you.

"Told you. Reputation."

You sigh as you look around. It seems like some of the men already had a couple of drinks.

"At ease."

As everyone sits back down, you notice how the group of tourists and the four girls all look very surprised by what's going on.

Suddenly, you hear Jackson groan in annoyance and you quickly realize why. There aren't any empty seats. Or rather, the only empty seats left are the ones at the table of the four girls. You see Miller stepping towards the nearest table, probably to get you a place to sit, but you grab his shoulder.

"It's fine. I was hoping for a relaxed night anyway."

The four of you walk through the bar and past some of the tables. Some of the men greet you individually, raising their glasses, or congratulating you.

"Hi. Are these empty, or are you waiting for someone?"

"No, they're empty. Please."

One of the girls spoke and is now gesturing towards the empty seats. You walk around the table and sit against the wall, next to the girl who looks the youngest. Jackson joins you on the bench, while the other two sit opposite from you.

You take one more look around the table. You can tell the girls are a little shy to restart their conversation now. The girl next to the youngest tugs her short black hair behind her ear, before taking a sip of her drink.

The girl across from her is the one who invited the four of you to sit down. You can't help but stare at her lips for a moment as she finally says something to the girl next to her. You can't understand it, but it sounds like Korean.

The girl she is speaking to is sitting next to Miller. She looks cute. Not as cute as the girl next you, but still kinda adorable. She seems to answer the other girl, before she takes out her phone.

When the waitress reaches your table, the four of you order. The girls seem to have picked up their conversation. At one point it looks like the girl next to you asked a question. A question none of them seems to have the answer too. You're surprised when Kang suddenly says something in Korean. You've noticed that he has been unusually quiet this entire time. You can't blame him. The four girls are stunning. But somehow it seems like something else has held him back so far.

The girls are surprised by Kangs answer. They probably didn't expect him to understand them.

Haneul's cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Why is he only saying now that he knows Korean? Her worried face glances at the man next to her. The man who seems to be in charge. She didn't expect anyone to understand her, apart from her members, when she admitted she found him hot, barely four minutes ago.

She was already afraid that he had caught her glancing at him from time to time. But now, she has to worry that his friend will tell him what she said. Haneul bows her head and thanks the man who spoke Korean, hoping he won't say anything. The other girls already teased her enough about her confession.

When the waitress comes back and placed the drinks in front of the soldiers, Haneul can feel how the man next to her relaxes further. He spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Now hers touch his. She can't help but bit her lip at the seemingly innocent connection. She isn't as bold as Julie or Natty, who would've placed their hands on his thigh and flirted with him. She hates herself for that. Haneul knows she needs to at least practice. Talking to her fans is easy. So why can't she do that with strangers as well?

"I'm surprised you know Korean."

Haneul looks up at Julie's words, which were directed at the man who answered her question.

"My parents are Korean. It's like my first language."

"Ah, that's cool."

"I have to admit, I'm a fan of you, girls. I'm going to the concert tomorrow."

"Oh, that's amazing."

Natty seems genuinely happy. While the three girls deepen the conversation with their fan, Haneul glances at the man next to her once more.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her inner self screams when he suddenly locks eyes with her. Haneul doesn't know if she should look away or not. But he smiles at her. And turns a little towards her.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Haneul."

Haneul gives you one of the cutest smiles you've ever seen. And the words slip out of your mouth, before you can think about them.

"You have a beautiful smile."

As the night deepens, you step outside, feeling the cold night air on your face. Haneul is walking out behind you. After her come Jackson, Miller and Kang and the other girls. It was one of them, Julie if you remember correctly, who suggested all of you should go for a walk on the beach.

You got to know all four girls quite well, who seem to be in a kpop group called kiss of life. They are all charming and beautiful, but it seems like you and Haneul have hit it off very well.

The two of you continue to talk as you walk past the palm trees and finally reach the sand.

"This is so beautiful."

Haneul can't fight the urge to take a couple of pictures of the star glazed night sky.

"It is."

You look at her and Haneul seems to catch on as she lowers her phone and turns to you. Her shy smile makes you chuckle, before you focus back on the stars.

"Haneul... Your name means sky, right?"

She looks at you in surprise.

"You speak Korean?"

"A little."

"Oh, you should've told me earlier."

You see her biting her lip and her cheeks slightly becoming darker. Is she embarrassed about something?

You hear laughter behind you. The two of you turn around. You roll your eyes as you watch Miller kissing one of the girls.

Haneul lets out a gasp as she sees Julie and one of the soldiers exchange a kiss. His hands are on her waist and Julie's are on his shoulders. Haneul is embarrassed, but at the same time, she is glancing at you, wondering how it would feel like to kiss you. Then she sees Natty and your other friend laugh together, arms locked. She watches how he slowly leans down, capturing the Thai girl's lips with his own.

You can tell Haneul has gotten more nervous over the last ten seconds.

"We don't need to do what they're doing, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Huh?"

Haneul turns to you, her eyes wide open. You hesitate, but it seems like she does want you to kiss her. You place a hand on her shoulder and eventually lower it a little. Further and further, until you reach her small waist. Haneul's eyes are glued to yours the whole time. But you catch them darting down to your lips from time to time.

Once your hand is on her waist, you pull her closer. You press her body against your own and you can feel her perky tits rub against your body, right underneath your chest. Leaning down, you see Haneul closing her eyes.

She seems so different from Yuri. Maybe it's her age or inexperience. But it doesn't make her any less attractive.

Your lips meet and you have to admit that Haneul's lips feel softer than you thought they would. You let your hand slowly wander over her back as you deepen the kiss. Haneul melts into you, her own hands pulling slightly at your shirt.

"Look at those two lovebirds."

Your kiss is interrupted by Julie's cheeky remark. You realize that you and Haneul have been standing like this more than a couple of seconds. For you, it felt like a short moment. But the other six are all looking at you.

"We are waiting for your answer, skipper."

"For what?"

You seem to have missed the question. A proud but shy smile appears on Haneul's face.

"Are you okay with all of us heading to the nearest hotel?"

You wonder why they're asking. They could just take off. It's not like they're on duty or something. But then you catch how Natty is casually leaning against Jackson, while her hand seems to be placed on Miller's back. While Kang, despite having his hands on Belle's waist, seems to exchange a knowing smile with Julie.

Their plan quickly dawns on you and you look down at Haneul. By now, you're pretty sure that Haneul wouldn't oppose to a night together. But, even if you have to share, the idea of being able to be with all four of them almost makes your head spin.

"What do you say?"

Despite the darkness, Haneul's cheek are laced with a darker red than ever before.

"I-I wouldn't mind."

The way to the hotel room was uneventful. You could tell Haneul was still nervous, but you managed to calm her down by taking her hand in yours while you walked. The receptionist raised an eyebrow when you told her all eight of you would share a room for the night. But she didn't say anything and just gave you the key card to a slightly bigger room.

Now you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down on Haneul. She is fumbling around with your belt. Miller is sitting on your left with Julie kneeling in front of him. The other four are on the other side of the bed behind you.

You can't help but watch as Julie opens her mouth and takes Miller's cock into her mouth. She is definitely more experienced than Haneul, who only got your pants off now. You catch her hesitating, but a moment later, she pulls your boxers down as well. Her wide open eyes are focused on your cock. She slowly opens her mouth as well. Reaching out, you take her cheek in your hand, encouraging her. Haneul's eyes smile up at you as her pretty lips close around your tip.

Your head rolls back as you feel her tongue moving around. You're so glad you and Yuri had fun earlier today. Otherwise, Haneul's cute face would've made you cum right there.

She lets her tongue dance around for a moment, before pressing it underneath your cock. You feel her taking more of you inside her mouth. On instinct, your hand moves up to the top of her head. You can't help but stroke her hair as Haneul does her best to pleasure you.

"Good girl."

You groan, when you feel her sucking on your cock properly. You expected her to have no experience at all. But it seems like Haneul does know just enough.

You glance to your left once more as you hear someone choking. Julie has placed her hands flat on Miller's thighs and is almost face fucking herself onto his cock.

Haneul can feel that you got harder by looking at those two. She takes a deep breath and then lets her lips glide further down your shaft. The younger girl can't compete with Julie, but you're more than happy with what she is doing. You reach behind her to hold her hair back, focusing only on Haneul.

"You're doing great."

You can't help but praise her. She looks so cute, while she sucks you off.

Haneul places her hands on your thighs as well and looks up at you. Almost as if she's asking for permission. You nod, curious to see what she's going to do.

"Damn."

You groan when you feel her throat tighten around you as she pushes her head down further. She quickly begins to cough and choke. Haneul's spit starts to leave her mouth. It gets all over your cock, your lap, her shirt and her thighs. But she tries to keep going, bobbing her head up and down.

"Don't close your mouth, open it wide."

You almost jump when you hear Julie's voice right next to you. She is kneeling next to Haneul, her arm stretched out as she keeps jerking off Miller's wet cock.

Haneul retreats, letting your own cock fall out of her mouth.

"Relax your throat when you first take all of it. It makes it easier."

Haneul listens closely to Julie's words.

"Like this."

Your hands dig into the sheets as Julie suddenly decides to deepthroat you. You can feel how she is forcing her jaw open wide enough to take all of you inside. Haneul watches in awe as the other girl bobs her head up and down. Julie doesn't even choke this time, her throat relaxed enough to take it all.

You notice how she still doesn't stop stroking Miller's cock. From behind you, you hear Jackson groan something.

You have to distract yourself like this, not wanting to cum early. Julie is doing an amazing job and now backs away to give Haneul another chance.

The younger girl tries to imitate Julie and takes most of your cock inside her mouth at once. You feel how she is able to take more now, her throat almost greedily sucking on your cock.

"That's it."

Julie smiles at her, before letting go of Miller's cock. She spits into her hand and wraps it around his length once more, making sure her saliva is all over shaft.

Haneul has now lifted her once more, letting her lips glide along your length.

"You're doing great."

Julie pats the back of Haneul's head. When she looks up at you, the older girl gives you a seductive wink. Before you can react, Julie pushes Haneul's head down, deep into your lap.

"Take it all, baby."

Her voice is still sweet and carrying, but her hand on Haneul's back makes the younger girl choke and gag.

And then, Julie uses Haneul's mouth to jerk you off. She lifts her head up and down, making her lips glide along your cock.

You barely notice that Miller is now standing next to Julie. She's sucking him off once more, but making sure she is fucking Haneul's face onto your cock at a steady pace.

You feel bad for Haneul. But at the same time, you can barely hold it together. Her tight throat just feels so damn amazing. The way her whole mouth almost takes in all your cock. The way her saliva gets everywhere. The way she gags whenever your tip hits the back of her throat.

You sigh in relief when Julie lets go off Haneul's head and focuses back on Miller. Haneul takes you in deep a couple of times more, before she finally backs away. Her big eyes and the strings of her saliva connecting her lips with your cock make her look so cute but sexy at the same time.

You reach out and wipe the spit off her lips. To your surprise, Haneul sucks on your thumb in return.

"Get on the bed."

You guide her to her feet and make her lie on her back. She watches you as you now undo her shorts. Glancing behind her, you can see how Natty is giving Jackson a titjob, while Belle is giving Kang head too.

But you focus back on Haneul as you pull her pants off of her.

You push the small piece of fabric that is covering her pussy to the side, exposing her snatch.

Haneul gasps when she feels your lips touch her thighs. She expected you to head straight for her core, but you tease first. It only takes you a couple of kisses, before her eyes silently beg for you to pay attention to her pussy.

You take both her thighs in your hands, spreading them apart so you have enough room. You kiss her right next to her lower lips, making her sigh in frustration. When you finally do let your tongue glide along her lips, Haneul's head rolls back. Her eyes close and her hands grab the sheets as you begin to eat her out.

The young girl's moans echo through the room. She occasionally lets out a small squeal or sigh whenever you suck on her clit. By now, one hand has moved to your head as she is slightly pulling at your hair, trying to get your tongue deeper inside of her. The other covers her mouth as Haneul tries to reduce the volume of her moans. She doesn't want to be the loudest in the room. Embarrassment is still colouring her cheeks.

But she doesn't have to worry much, when she hears Julie moaning shamelessly next to her. Miller is lying next to Haneul on his back, while Julie is riding his face. The older girl throws her head back and grinds against him, while his hands hold her waist.

Haneul almost jumps when Natty's face suddenly appears above her head. Jackson made her get on all fours on the bed and is now eating her out from behind. Natty basically moans into Haneul's face. The younger girl can't help herself. The Thai girl just looks so amazingly hot like that. She reaches upward with her free hand. Natty gladly follows Haneul's guidance and lowers her head. The two girls share one deep kiss after another.

As they both loose themselves in the sea of pleasure, Natty's limps grow weak. She gets lower and lower as they break their kiss. Finally, Natty is almost lying on top of Haneul. The younger girl's face meets Jackson's. She hesitates, but eventually she captures his lips with her own. She can taste Natty's juices.

You do the same with the Thai girl. You share a deep kiss with her, while she slowly inserts a finger into Haneul's pussy. The younger girl moans louder now, but you pull away and stand up. Natty follows your movements and invitingly opens her mouth. You push your cock past her lips.

Looking past her, you see that Jackson is doing the same with Haneul. While the two girls lie on top of each other, they give the two of you head.

"Damn."

You groan, acknowledging how skilled Natty is. She definitely did this more often than Haneul. You feel her tongue doing all kinds of tricks as she keeps her lips sealed around your length. You place a hand on top of her head and give her mouth shallow thrusts.

As you use Natty's mouth, you watch Julie, who keeps riding Miller's face. Seems like she got a hold of the lieutenant as well. Kang is standing on the bed, right in front of her. One of Julie's hands is wrapped around his length, while her lips are sealed around his shaft as well. Her other hand is entangled in Miller's hair.

Wait, where is Belle?

She catches your eye as she slowly crawls over the bed towards you. Just when she's about to reach you, you reach for her face, pulling her up by her chin. Belle smiles at you, before the two of you share a kiss. It doesn't last long, because Belle now reaches down to have a taste of your cock as well.

Natty starts to moan all over your cock when Jackson slowly pushes his cock inside of her. You watch her eyes roll as she suddenly finds herself trapped between the two of you. When Jackson pushes forward, he basically makes her take you down her throat. Belle makes sure that even your base is cared for, while Natty becomes helpless.

Belle suddenly gasps in surprise when Miller reaches around her waist and pulls her body towards him. Julie is already an all fours while Kang fucks her from behind. The older man now puts Belle into the same position. But instead of fucking her, you catch how he starts to eat her ass. The younger girl quickly turns into a moaning mess. Her and Julie both exchange one kiss after another.

Looking down on yourself again, you notice how Natty is starting to drool all over Haneul's beautiful pussy. It now looks so wet and so good, you can't help yourself. You almost have to push Natty's head off your cock for her to leave you alone. Now her moans are louder. You reach down and place two fingers on Haneul's clit. You feel her jump at the sudden touch, but when you start playing with her, you hear her moan as well.

"Damn, Natty. Haneul is such a tight girl."

"Yeah, she is. Such a tight cunt."

You make Natty watch as you slowly penetrate Haneul's glistening folds. The older girl keeps drooling all over the younger girl's pussy, coating your cock in her saliva as well.

"Does she feel good for you? Is she being a-"

A particularly hard thrust leaves Natty speechless for a moment.

"Is-Is she being a good little girl for you?"

"Yes, she is."

You take a hold of Natty's chin and make her look up at you.

"You like it when your friend is a slut?"

She eagerly nods, another moan leaving her mouth.

"Do you want to see how I use her tight pussy like a fleshlight?"

You talk a little louder, making sure Haneul can mentally prepare herself.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck her like the slut she is."

As Natty talks, you feel Haneul's legs close around you in conformation. It seems like the younger girl has lost all of her shyness by now.

You properly take a hold of her thighs and start to fuck Haneul's pussy. A moment later, you hear a string of moans and whines leave her lips. You watch how Jackson momentarily pulls out of Natty and thrusts down into Haneul's wide open mouth. You doubt the young girl has ever had two cocks inside of her at once. The two of you alternate between both of their mouths and pussies, turning the two of them into begging messes.

"Are you really going to-Oh god!"

You glance to your right as you hear a loud yelp. Belle is now on top of Miller, who is sitting on the bed. Her feet are planted on his thighs, her hands are holding onto his wrists. His own hands are on her waist.

"You're so big, oh god!"

He makes Belle take his cock into her ass. Slowly at first, before he starts to pick up the pace a little. You can't help but notice how good her pussy looks as well. Not as good as Haneul's to be honest though.

You don't really remember how you ended up in this position. After Haneul, you do remember being inside of Julie and the Belle. Now, you're lying on the bed and Haneul is on top of you. She's facing you, her hands on your chest, supporting her weight. To your left, the other three couples have gotten into the same position. The three guys and you are all lying down, while the four girls are each riding someone. At some point, the four of them all got into the same rhythm. They all lift themselves upwards and then impale themselves on their partner below at the same time.

"I-I think I'm gonna...."

Haneul's voice gets cut off when your cock is finally too much for her. You could tell she's kept it in for a while now, just to be on the same level as the other three. But now she finally becomes undone, shaking on top of you. Her snug pussy twitching around your cock. You hold onto her waist, making sure she doesn't fall down.

The next one to go is Belle. She is riding Jackson, who's lying next to you. With a loud gasp, she joins Haneul in her orgasmic state. When Haneul finally calms down, she looks at you.

"I-I need a break."

You nod, noticing that she really is out of breath. You help her with climbing off of you. As Haneul lies down, you get up. The fact that she just came on top of you has you longing for more. And the way Belle has started to pick up her pace once more, indicates she can take more as well.

Now kneeling behind her, you reach around her body and cup her breasts. Her bounces slow down and you move a little closer. Jackson reaches behind her and pulls Belle's cheeks apart.

"Why are you-"

She gets the answer a second later as she feels your tip push pass the tight ring of her ass.

"Oh! Oh, god! I've never taken this much before!"

You thrust inside of her, making Belle almost fall forward.

Jackson and you start to work together. Whenever you push inside Belle, his hands on her ass push her upwards as well. It makes her take even more of you, while her pussy glides along his shaft. And then you almost pull out of her as you pull her down with you, impaling her on his cock.

"Oh, yes! Ruin me!"

Belle quickly gets into it, the feeling of having two holes filled overwhelming her.

"Fuck, that's so hot."

Julie sighs on your right, who is riding Kang's cock. Next to her is Natty doing the same with Miller. The two guys exchange a look.

"Hey, wait!"

Natty complains, but Miller ignores her. He pushes her off of him and kneels behind Julie. The oldest has a mischievous grin on her face.

"Oh, yes. Give it to me, boys."

She moans loudly when the two of them start to fuck her ass and pussy as well. She doesn't seem to care at all that Natty just lost her own opportunity to feel good.

You motion her to come closer and Natty quickly crawls towards you. After she lies on her back, you hold Belle with only one hand and insert two fingers of your other one into Natty's wet pussy.

All three girls are now moaning together again, while Haneul is still lying on the side. Still recovering.

"Fuck."

You groan into Belle's ear, desperately trying to fight the urge to bite into her naked shoulder. Her ass is just so tight. It feels so good. That tight ring of her muscles keeps squeezing the life out of you, while you feel can feel Jackson's cock inside of her as well.

"Oh my god."

Belle sighs and moans. By now, she has become dead weight. It's up to you and Jackson to move her up and down, while you use her holes. Eventually, her strength leaves Belle's whole body. She collapses on top of Jackson. He's still inside her pussy and now you start to fuck Belle's ass a little faster. You make her body rock back and forth on top of him.

Natty seizes that opportunity and quickly climbs on top of Belle. You hear Jackson groan, you can't tell if it's their combined bodies on top of him, or just Belle's snatch. Either way, you're now able to switch between the two girls.

You pull out of Belle's snug ass and push inside Natty's pussy.

"Oh, yes. Fuck me hard."

The older girl sighs, backing her ass up a little bit more.

"Oh, that's it. You're gonna give us your cum?"

Julie's words push you towards the edge as you feel her hand quickly stroking your cock. The four girls are all kneeling on the floor in a circle, their backs up against each other. The four of you each stand in front of one of them.

Kang is the first to finish. With a loud groan, he cums all over Natty. Her face and her tits are painted waited after only a couple of seconds. Belle is the second one to get hit. Miller unloads all over her face as well, some of his cum hits her hair and Haneul as well.

Julie puts your cock into her mouth as well, urging you on to not leave her hanging. At the same time, Jackson orgasms too, painting Haneul's face. The youngest gasps at the rather unfamiliar feeling. But before she can say anything, Belle already captures her lips with her own. The two girls engage in a messy, cum filled make out session.

You suddenly feel a second pair of lips on your cock. Natty's painted face greats you as she eagerly lets her lips wander along your length.

"Fuck."

You groan, the two girls quickly getting you to the point of no return.

When they realize you're about to cum, they both lean back. They use their hands to push their tits together. Mouths wide open and tongues out. Natty closes her eyes, while Julie looks straight up at you.

You finally finish, painting both of their faces and tits. The sight in front of you almost makes you hard again already as you see the two girls sharing your cum.

You thought your birthday would've already been the highlight of your shore leave. But you're proven wrong, when you wake up the next day to a snap from your new friend.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 12

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s just a bluff, one you’ve perfected over the years. You’ve pulled this trick countless times, especially when someone refuses to give you the information you need. Most crack under the pressure, some get nervous and spill their secrets, just as you want.

But a few? A few see right through you.

And Bucky? He was one of those.

He scoffed, leaning back with that infuriating smirk. "I like this mind game."

You sighed inwardly, knowing you’d lost this round. He wasn't going to give anything up.

The tension hung thick in the air until the bathroom door creaked open, and Nate emerged, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and his uncle. Spotting his small luggage by the counter, he beamed, zipping it open to grab a change of clothes and, of course, his stash of snacks.

With his arms full, Nate wandered over to the both of you and handed each a snack—his favorite, the snack he wasn’t allowed to have at home. His parents and Hazel were strict about it, but he knew he could get away with it here, as long as he shared. This was his little bribe.

"This is my favorite," he said, grinning up at you both.

You couldn’t resist. You pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him gently. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Bucky, knowing exactly how strict Hazel and his parents were about junk food, raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get this? Did you ask the nanny?"

Nate shook his head, completely unfazed. "No. Uncle Steve gave it to me."

That name. The second Nate said it, it felt like an ice-cold bucket had been dumped over your head. You looked at Bucky, and his face tightened. His reaction told you everything—you weren't the only one feeling uneasy.

Something was going on, and Steve’s name was right in the middle of it.

You cleared your throat, determined to break the lingering awkwardness. “Let’s have lunch first. After that, what do you want to do next?”

Nate's eyes widened, his face lighting up with excitement as he turned to look at the spacious living room and the big TV. “Can we watch movies after lunch? Then take a nap together on that big couch?”

He’d seen that in a movie. With his grandparents, he could never relax like that, but he knew his uncles were much more laid-back. He wants to fall asleep while watching his favorite cartoon, being close to his uncle and aunt.

“Sure.” You patted his head gently, feeling a warmth spread through you. Besides, it had been ages since you’d enjoyed a good nap. It felt like a luxury for adults these days.

Lunch turned into a delightful moment of relaxation as the three of you settled around the table. Nate's innocent chatter filled the air, weaving a lightness into the atmosphere that slowly pushed away the tension between you and Bucky. Nate asked questions about everything under the sun—his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he talked about his favorite cartoons and the superheroes he admired.

After lunch, the three of you cozied up on the couch to watch a cartoon movie together. Nate nestled himself right in the middle, sprawled across both of you, laughter echoing through the room.

Within forty minutes, however, the excitement wore him out. He fell asleep, his head resting against your right arm. You smiled, reaching over to gently cup his cheek with your hand. “How did he get such a bubbly personality, considering the Barnes don’t seem to have it?” you mused aloud.

Bucky glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He’s different, isn’t he?” He reached over to place a soft pillow under Nate’s head, ensuring he was comfortable.

“Maybe my parents realized how strict they were raising me, Shawn, and Hazel. When Nate was born, I was surprised by how much gentler they are with him,” Bucky added, his voice softer, as if reflecting on the changes in his family.

“Do you think Steve has a bright character too? I wonder,” you said, still watching the peaceful expression on Nate's face.

Bucky’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious demeanor. “Why do you have to ruin this moment, my love?” he teased lightly before standing up and walking toward the balcony door. He opened it and stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.

You were surprised to see Bucky smoking; he hadn’t done that since you arrived. You knew he wasn’t a regular smoker, but sometimes the stress got to him.

You followed him outside, the cool breeze washing over you as you stepped onto the balcony. Bucky turned to face you, resting his back against the railing. His head tilted back, looking up at the sky as he released a plume of smoke from his lips.

“There’s a difference between me and Steve,” Bucky said, his voice steady yet reflective. “I got into this because of connections.” He paused, knowing that his privileged background played a significant role in his current position. “While Steve? He started from the military. He had no backup. He had real ambitions.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "You see me as a manipulative person," he said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "But you have no idea how manipulative Steve is."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Steve. The insinuation sent a chill down your spine, and you straightened your posture, folding your arms tightly across your chest. You weren't sure if Bucky was trying to manipulate you again or if he was genuinely warning you about something darker. Either way, the unease crept in.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you. “If you knew… compared to him, you’d think of me as an angel.”

You raised an eyebrow, your skepticism clear. “That’s hard to believe.”

A humorless smile tugged at Bucky’s lips. “He's a man of plans. If you and I think two steps ahead, Steve’s already thought 100 steps ahead.”

You let out a slow, steady breath, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “That doesn't excuse what you've done,” you replied, your voice low but firm. “You’re still responsible for dragging me into this.”

Bucky's smirk returned, but this time it held something deeper—almost regretful. “You might think I brought you here just for my own selfishness, but it's also for your protection.”

You blinked, the words hitting you like a slap. “You? Protect me? That’s a joke.” You couldn’t help the bitterness that slipped into your tone. The idea that he’d done anything selfless seemed ridiculous.

Bucky's smirk deepened, almost daring you to challenge him. “Like I said before—you can hate me, stab me, poison me. I’ll take it. But you need to know, I won’t let you get hurt.”

The conviction in his voice sent a tremor through you, but you masked it with a sharp exhale. “Who wants to hurt me?”

Bucky's expression shifted, something darker brewing in his eyes. “You can figure out the truth about Nate. I’m sure you can connect the dots.”

You felt your stomach drop as your thoughts raced. Could he be implying…? No, it couldn’t be. But then again, there were too many unanswered questions. “Is this about the election? And Steve?”

Bucky took a long drag from his cigarette before answering, the smoke swirling in the cool air. “You were walking through a minefield, and I got you out before you stepped on something that could blow your life apart.”

His words struck hard, and you bit your lip, turning over the recent jobs you’d taken. None of them seemed directly linked to the election, but you were a journalist with many connections, many stories—maybe one of them had crossed the wrong lines without you realizing it.

“This… this just makes me wonder even more why you chose to support Steve,” you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

Bucky stubbed out his cigarette against the balcony railing. “His leadership fits this country. You can disagree with that all you want. But Steve… Steve loves this country.”

You frowned, your mind spinning. Could that really be it? Could Bucky, despite all the manipulations and half-truths, genuinely believe Steve was the right person to lead? Or was this yet another layer of the twisted game they were all playing?

Bucky’s gaze softened slightly as he glanced at Nate through the glass door, the boy still soundly asleep on the couch.

“About Nate…” Bucky hesitated for a moment, and you could sense the weight of the words he was about to speak.

Your pulse quickened, your eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue.

“I won’t add more to what you already know,” he finally said, his voice heavy with the promise. “Because I made a vow—I’ll take the truth about Nate and Hazel to my grave.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, and a cold realization settled over you. Whatever secret Bucky was keeping, it was bigger than you’d thought. And it wasn’t just about the election… it was about Nate and Hazel.

“So, I should be grateful that you dragged me out of a minefield?” You raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear in your voice. “I’m not even sure it exists.”

Bucky met your gaze, unflinching. “Why do you think I’ve supported the independent company where you work?” His tone was steady, calm. “I could’ve ruined it. Could’ve made it go bankrupt, easily.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, heat rising in your chest. His words stung, even though he wasn’t saying them with any malice. Still, you couldn’t help the tension building inside you.

But then his voice softened, the intensity in his blue eyes never wavering. “You probably didn’t realize it,” Bucky continued, “but you’ve already passed through a minefield that could’ve ruined Steve.”

Your breath caught for a moment. Wait. Does that mean he sees me as a threat? The thought swirled in your mind, unsettling you. Was that why Bucky had been hovering around, keeping a close watch?

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. You searched Bucky’s face, trying to read between the lines. But there was no malice, no manipulation there—just something deeper, something protective.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your voice quieter now, a mix of confusion and frustration.

Bucky’s eyes softened. “I’m not here to control you. I just… don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of something bigger than either of us.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the tension still lingering, but his words had shifted something inside you.

"Crossfire?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? We can talk about other people, stay calm. But when it’s about us? All we ever do is argue."

Bucky’s jaw tightened at your words. She’s right, he thought, his heart aching with guilt. It’s always a fight when it comes to us.

He wanted to say something to ease the tension, but every word seemed wrong. He watched you—how your arms crossed defensively, how tired your eyes looked. Not angry, just… tired of it all.

“I know,” Bucky finally admitted, his voice rough with regret. “I’m the one who keeps messing this up. I keep dragging us into this same damn fight.”

You didn’t blink, didn’t soften. You were too worn down by it all. "Then why keep doing it?" you asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. "Why keep playing these games, Bucky? I’m tired. I’m so tired of being caught in your manipulation. It’s like… you don’t even care what it does to me."

Bucky winced at the rawness in your words, the reality of it hitting him hard. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes like never before. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping. “I know it looks like that, but… I never meant for it to be this way. I did it because I was scared.”

Your heart clenched at the confession, but the exhaustion was still there, weighing you down. “Scared of what? Of just talking to me? Of being honest?”

Bucky shook his head, stepping closer, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but unsure if he could. “I was scared of losing you again,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I did everything I could to keep you here, to keep you close. But I know I went about it all wrong. I twisted things, manipulated situations, because I thought it was the only way.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sunk in. He wasn’t trying to push you away—he was clinging to you, so tightly that it hurt.

“You have no idea what that feels like, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “To be pulled into your games, not knowing why, thinking I don’t matter to you. It’s exhausting.”

Bucky’s face fell, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. And I hate that I did that to you,” he said softly. “I hate myself for it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s because I care too much, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You could see the truth in his eyes now, the desperation behind his actions. It didn’t erase the pain, but it explained it.

“I was afraid that if I didn’t do everything I could, you’d leave me again,” Bucky continued, his voice shaky. “And I couldn’t take that. Not again. I know I’ve been manipulative, and I know I’ve hurt you because of it. But I was doing it to keep you close… not to push you away. I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightened, the weight of his confession settling in. You hated what he had done, but you could finally see where it came from—fear, desperation, and a love so deep he didn’t know how to control it.

Bucky stepped closer again, this time more confident. “I’ll stop,” he said, voice steady but full of regret. “I’ll stop with the manipulation, with the games. You deserve so much better than that. You deserve better than me, but I’m not giving up. I’ll make things right if you let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, the ache of everything still too fresh. But before you could respond, Bucky took a step back, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I’ll understand if I already have.”

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[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

It's a little addition to the three part fic! A little closure for people who needed it!

Warnings: swearing, fluff, comfort

A/N: that's it guys, they're gonna be happy I promise

~~

If someone asked, Y/N wouldn't be able to pinpoint the moment when she started feeling like home in the Arrow house. The realisation at first made her… fearful almost, as she knew how comfortable the boys became with the house. With Tommy. They’ve spent nearly a year here since the ongoing threats from the Changrettas. Could she take these young boys away from what they’ve known? Before, Y/N was doing her very best to focus on day to day life, back when her relationship with Thomas was very difficult and… barely there. Now, on the other hand, things looked different and day by day he kept proving to her that he deserved to be a father to Nick and Tommy.

Functioning around and with Thomas grew on her more than she'd like to admit. Subconsciously, she memorised his work schedule to make sure he had something warm to eat after coming home. Whenever she wouldn't know how to handle an issue, she would come to him instinctually. No matter whether it was a serious matter, or a stubborn lid on a jar she couldn't open.

Basically, they lived like a family. Neither of them expected the shift in the air that would happen after realising that… they weren't forced to live together anymore. The threat was gone, and so was the excuse for living together despite their uncertain situation. It was easier to brush it away, having an excuse other than… the want to stay. Thomas didn't dare to touch this topic, maybe fearing he'd give her an idea to leave.

So they both pretended like the matter didn't exist.

Y/N thought about it while she scrambled around the room, looking for Nick's pants in the midst of chaos as Tommy ran around fully dressed.

”Bloody hell” She mumbled, moving around in her nightgown, not prepared at all. Guests would start arriving in about forty minutes so she had to be quick.

“There!” She exclaimed happily, pulling out the small piece of clothing from their wardrobe as she grabbed the boy to put it on. A satisfied smile appeared on her lips as she took in their appearance. Their white shirts contrasted with the dark blue suit pants and suspenders which ensured that, well… their pants would stay where they're supposed to.

As she moved towards her vanity, Y/N looked at her face to check whether her makeup that she put on while her boys were taking a nap still looked neat, letting out a sigh of relief as it was all fine. In the corner of her eye, she noticed Tommy wearing only his right shoe, running towards the door while holding the other in his hand.

”Thomas!” She yelled after him, using his full name for a better effect, which… clearly didn't work, as the boy ran out of the room.

Without a second thought, Y/N rushed after him, immediately fearing that he'd fall down the stairs.

She repeated his name, falling out of the room at high speed, and before she could react, she stumbled upon the one person she didn't expect to stand there, Thomas. He stood there, cocking an eyebrow at the way she looked with her hair up, body covered by the thin fabric.

“Got places to be?” He asked with a head tilt and grin on his lips, causing Y/N’s cheeks to turn bright pink at the way he looked at her.

“No, I–I was dressing up and he.. bolted out of the room.” Y/N couldn't hold in the giggle, seeing Tommy clutching his father's hand and still holding the other shoe, looking proud of himself as ever.

Thomas watched her carefully, secretly loving the way she scrunched up her nose while laughing.

“Don't look at me like that, Shelby. It's your fault.” She pointed out, raising her eyebrows as she put her hand on her hips, causing him to eye her once again before indulging in the banter.

“How so?” He chuckled, still standing really close, and without any intention of moving.

“First off, you went to get ready first and left me with BOTH of them,” she pointed out, counting on her fingers for a dramatic effect. “...and he's a troublemaker because of you. Like father like son,” She added with mischief, causing him to shake his head with a smile.

“Well,” He started before glancing down, “I am in fact wearing both of my shoes, he probably got it from you.” Thomas pointed towards her bare feet, making her blush more fiercely. “And haven’t you always bragged to me about how well you’ve learned to multitask?” he added.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his words, secretly enjoying the exchange.

“I have,” She responded confidently, taking a step forward to reach for the shoe little Tommy was holding, unconsciously closing up some proximity between them. As she straightened her back, she was mere inches from the man's face, gasping as he leaned closer.

“Is that right?” He said with a cocked eyebrow, seeing the way she reacted to being so close to him..

“Mhm” She nodded, trying to hide away how flustered she suddenly felt. Thomas looked at her lips for a second, before smiling and clearing his throat.

He reached a hand out to her face to lightly brush her hair back into place, causing Y/N to involuntarily let out a quiet sigh.

“I’ll have to test it at some point,” He responded in a voice a little too husky to take it as completely innocent, yet nothing bold. It delicately danced on the line she firmly set between them after moving in.

Y/N’s pupils dilated, playfully scoffing at his words, yet unable to find anything smart as an answer. It wasn't often for her to run out of things to say, but it was one of these rare moments, which clearly amused him.

A peal of laughter interrupted the moment, bursting the bubble of tension which seemed to be surrounding them throughout the whole encounter.

Thomas glanced at the small carbon copy of himself, suddenly remembering they weren't alone.

“What's so funny, little man, eh?” He asked in a softer voice, the one he was using purely with their boys.

Without an audible answer, little Tommy's hand shot up, his chubby little finger pointing towards the room.

Looking back, Y/N suddenly froze at the sight in front of them.

The briefly unsupervised Nick had climbed onto the vanity chair and applied a nice thick layer of “crimson passion” lipstick to his nose and forehead.

“As of right now, that's your son” Y/N sighed with a glimmer of humour in her eyes.

Even though it was a joke in this instance, hearing her calling the boys theirs or his always melted his heart. Back when he first discovered their existence, he wasn’t sure Y/N would ever acknowledge his role in front of them.

With a shake of his head, Thomas took a step forward, to her surprise leaning down as he kissed her temple before moving past them.

“I'll take care of them, you go get dressed. Polly and Ada will arrive in less than half an hour.”

***

The small amount of powder on Y/N’s face was the only reason why her cheeks weren't pink as she walked downstairs, catching everyone's eye. She looked radiant wearing her blue evening dress combined with the pearls adorning her neck.

Thomas stood back, watching and he couldn't help but feel almost giddy at how pretty she looked. As everyone greeted her, they moved to the dining room, still chatting, as maids slowly brought out the food and drinks. The atmosphere around the house was much lighter since the threat wasn't hanging above them like a dark cloud anymore. Ada took the opportunity to talk to Y/N about the kids, gushing over their resemblance to her brother.

Arthur and Linda arrived a little later, explaining the delay as their kids had been more fussy than usual.

Y/N listened closely as Polly talked away, trying not to get distracted by Tommy's hand on her lower back whenever she was within his reach, which was quite difficult.

Soon enough he asked the maids to look over the children, giving Y/N a wink before he and his brothers moved to the office, having to look over one of the contracts.

The women were sitting in the living room drinking and gossiping when the conversation turned toward the whole Changretta affair.

“Y/N, you must give me your new address once you and the boys move out,” Linda said with a knowing smile. “Because you're planning on moving out, right?” The straightforwardness of her allusions made the chatter die down, stirring up an awkward atmosphere.

Polly and Ada exchanged awkward glances as the entire mood of the room shifted.

“I'm sure Y/N will let you know about any changes should they occur” Polly replied with a warning tone.

“Should they occur? I don't understand. I thought she only lived here for protection, not to live in sin,” said Linda, glancing around their faces as she raised her eyebrows in surprise. Linda was always bold with her words, but

“I think you've said enough, Linda” Ada coldly said as she glared daggers at her sister-in-law. Y/N rubbed her hands against her lap, looking around nervously. Finishing up her tea, she got up from the couch, thanking them for coming.

“It's about time for my boys to get ready for bed. I think I should go check on them and Frances. Please excuse me” Y/N said with a growing blush of embarrassment and fury on her face. Polly saw how nervous this exchange made her, so didn't dare to try and stop her, instead glaring eloquently at the blonde woman.

Being just around the corner, Y/N overheard the last few sentences.

“What?” Linda asked with a huff, “These were her words at the beginning, don't you remember? Plus they're not even Shelby's technically.” She offered with annoyance, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the smoke as the older woman got up angrily, pointing towards her face.

Y/N walked away before Polly's heated response came to her ears, scooping up Tommy and grabbing little Nick by the hand, as he rubbed his eyes with his fist.

“Let's get you two to bed, hmm?” She said in her softer voice, feeling Tommy nodding against the crook of her neck.

“Noooo” Nick replied in a sleepy voice, watching his steps intently with half lidded eyes, as to not trip over any stairs. Y/N just smiled under her breath, his stubbornness reminding her so much of his father.

After changing them into pyjamas, she managed to put them both to bed despite some fussing from Nick, as expected. She couldn't help but spend a few minutes watching them sleep so peacefully, feeling relief that they were both happy and content.

Standing up from the bed, Y/N froze for a second, only then noticing Thomas standing in the doorway, watching over them calmly.

“What happened?” He asked begrudgingly as soon as the door behind them closed, his eyes scanning her face in search of truth. Y/N didn't meet his gaze, looking ahead as she hugged herself lightly.

“Nothing happened, it was a nice evening” she replied in a tone that didn't even sound convincing to herself.

“It's still early, they're all downstairs.” He pointed out, raising his brows, fully knowing she wasn't being truthful.

“Boys were sleepy,” She pointed out, finally looking at him. He blinked a couple times, before narrowing his eyes.

“Alright,” he eventually said, “They're asleep, so let's join everyone downstairs then” his voice suggested a challenge in his tone, as he tried to get her to… start talking. Y/N sighed with annoyance at his digging, knowing damn well how stubborn he was.

“No, I just–” she stopped, pulling back ”I don't feel good–” Y/N offered but Tommy cut her off,

“It's what she said, isn't it?” His voice was rougher, eyes carefully studying her expression, which was enough to know the answer. “Polly told me,” Immediately added to the question she had written all over her face.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked towards the stairs, hearing fairly loud voices from downstairs, making it all the difficult to process her feelings. His eyes followed hers, sensing the anxiety she was feeling. He knew her too well.

“Let's not talk about it here, come on” Thomas said finally, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards his bedroom. Y/N let him lead her, quietly shutting the door behind as he walked further into the room. She crossed her arms, looking in his direction.

“She's not wrong,” Hardened expression and weak voice were giving away her mixed feelings on the matter, but Tommy let her speak. “I should–should find an apartment somewhere, and go back to work… We're not in danger anymore. We should go.”

Her words created some serious chaos in his head, as he watched her face for a longer minute. Eyes frantically grazing over her expression, unsure whether she was serious. Turning around, Thomas let his gaze drop to the floor as he came up to the window, searching for answers to the questions that weren't even asked.

Not directly. Again this fucking uncertainty, he thought, tired of dancing around the situation they didn't address for so long. The realisation dawned on him, as he felt the real threat of losing them. Of losing her again.

Facing her again, Thomas looked her in the eyes boldly, taking a step forward.

“Did I cause that? Have I don't something wrong that makes you want to leave?” His voice steady, demanding a direct answer. “Tell me what's missing and I'll fix it.”

Y/N groaned with frustration, stepping closer to the wardrobe, creating some distance between them that she do desperately needed to think clearly.

“No, Tommy, it's not that— fuck” she cut herself off with a sigh, looking for the right words. “You didn't do anything wrong, it's just… just not—”

“I don't want you to go.” He said suddenly, cutting her off as she fell silent, looking at him with wide eyes. “I can't stand the thought of losing you again, and.. and this” He pointed towards the door, referring to the situation that took place downstairs. “Should have never happened in the first place. I can't stand this fucking distance. Knowing I can't touch you, that i–i can't kiss you despite having you right here.” His voice grew rougher with simmering anger, directed to nobody but himself. “Having you sleep in another room even though your fucking place is by my side.” He took a step forward, looking in her eyes with emotions swirling in his mind. “Knowing that I have no right to keep you here, and.. and after what i did, I will never deserve you.” He said quieter, reaching for her cheek “But I'm selfish, and I can't let you go when you're standing right here, Y/N. I'm tired of hiding how crazy I am about you.” Tommy's eyes were fixed on her lips, as he licked his own, feeling the sudden dryness in his throat. “But uncertainty is the worst, so… so tell me. I need to know—”

This time, Y/N pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes. Her hand gripping onto his vest, feeling his heart thumping beneath her hand. Kissing him slowly, without any rush, as his words rang in her ears.

“Please” He said weakly as she finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. Y/N’s hand combed through his hair, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body.

“Please, don't break my heart, Tommy.” She whispered, feeling the weight easing off of her chest. “Because I won't survive being punished for loving you again.”

Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @honeymoon8 @chaimaarouaine11 @hatethis29 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @preparedfruit @emptyvoidofmine @dornishannie

[pmpmyread]

Nanami Kento Masterlist - 2024

Every piece I wrote this year pertaining to our beloved 7:3 sorcerer.

Nanami x f!reader fics

Bento Box Blunder | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x auxiliary manager!reader Summary: You’d always admired Kento Nanami from a distance, even harboring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion.Then one day, you stole his lunch. Content tags: fluff WC: 2.4k

Nanami Kento & Casual Touches | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: Some casual touching scenarios with Nanami, because you need it as much as he does. Content tags: MDNI, fluff with suggestive themes. WC: 3.6k

Perfect Matcha | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: Sometimes, it's tea for two. "A few similar encounters occurred over the next few weeks, distinct scenarios that always rhymed, an unspoken dance that incorporated two fundamental elements: you carefully preparing your tea and Nanami subtly observing you as you did." Content tags: fluff WC: 1.9k

Nanami Kento & Laughter | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: From the moment you first shared a laugh with Nanami Kento, you knew you’d want to do it over and over again. Some laughing headcannons with Nanami, because God knows he deserves it. Content tags: MDNI, fluff with smut. WC: 1.4k

Forty Winks | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: There's just something about watching your other half sleep. "Perhaps this was just something to take as is; another layer uncovered, another quirk you’d grow accustomed to, a funny bonding joke that would settle between you — that your sweet Nanami had a spontaneous napping habit, and that very few things could come between him and his forty winks." Content tags: fluff WC: 3.8k

Steamy Pretenses | Read on Tumblr

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: About slow mornings and steamy pretenses. Content tags: suggestive fluff WC: 438

Kneads Assessment | Read on Tumblr

Characters: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: On the heels of a long and stressful week at work, Nanami proposed you assist him in baking some bread, as a means to decompress. And decompress you did. Content tags: suggestive fluff WC: 2.4k

New Old Habit | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: You endeavor to comfort Nanami after a mission gone wrong. Content tags: Hurt/comfort, brief mentions of death. WC: 1.2k

Tailor-made | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento, Reader-insert, Kugisaki Nobara, Gojo Satoru Content tags: SFW, mentee Nobara, mentor Nanami, papamin vibes. Summary: Nanami fills in for Gojo to lead an individual training session with Nobara, and you witness a new bond forming between the two. Content tags: fluff WC: 3.8k

Crimson Vows | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: When presented with the opportunity to support the efforts in Tokyo to investigate and stymie the latest surge of Special Grade vampires, you're compelled to leave your life overseas and rejoin the Tokyo Hunter Academy's ranks as a vampire Hunter, only to find yourself paired on a mission with Nanami, a reunion that sets you both onto life-altering paths. Content warnings: 18+/MDNI, blood, blood-drinking, violence, language, biting, mature themes, graphic sexual content. Content tags: Vampire AU, romance, hunting/investigation missions, action sequences, angsty/hurt/comfort plot with smut, comfort sex, mentions of death, processing of grief, power dynamics, brief allusions to mind control, Black!reader. WC: 16k

Nanami-centric (no Reader-insert)

Birthday Reflections | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara Summary: Not for lack of trying not to, Kento Nanami often found himself becoming deeply reflective in the days leading up to his birthday. Content tags:Nanami's birthday, introspection, hurt/comfort WC: 2.6k

Character commentary/analysis

I wrote some things for other characters as well, if you can believe it (I can't). You can find those on my "Master" Masterlist.

Thanks for reading! 🩵

[cloveroctobers]

95 DEGREES — ARMANDO ARETAS x BLACK! Reader [Summer Randoms]

A/N: because y’all have been showing love on my first drop and I’ve been thinking about little moments with him since!!! *sings* I’m sprungggg! This was also Inspired by Rihanna acting accordingly on insta to this song towards A$AP 🤭

SYNOPSIS: you’re a content creator who’s on livestream during your vacation with your man. it’s summer time, you’re fine and think it’s cool to act up so Armando reminds you just exactly who he is.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of a character from: power ghost ;) just for a side of messiness, mentions of being in the itty bitty titty community, a little steamy moment somewhere, & me possibly or most likely butchering some Spanish!

<- read my previous anthology piece here.

𓇼 〰〰〰〰〰 𓇼 𓇼 〰〰〰〰〰 𓇼 𓇼

This Cuban heat made you feel like you were in hell to be honest. That’s why you alternated between jumping in the pool and lounging on the pool chairs but you can only do that for so long. Not according to Armando though, he had no issue catching a nap or three right underneath the sun but not without you spraying him down. You didn’t play with the sun and neither did that little sun spot that always appeared like the shape of an orange on your right shoulder every summer.

He started to doze off just by you rubbing the sunscreen into his glowing skin and the longer you stared at him, looking like that, you decided to leave him be before diving into your monthly read. After forty-five minutes of doing that you checked on Armando and got to snacking on the spread of fruit while enjoying some peach Bellini’s on the side.

This vacation was deeply needed so you understood how exhausted Armando tended to be, considering that he barely slept. When you weren’t around it took hearing your voice across the phone to help him find slumber. Now? Far away from Miami (by boat at least) and Mexico City, he had no problem catching a few Z’s knowing that you were not far from him.

So you being you, you had to entertain yourself by going to the side of the pool setting up your tripod and phone. You thought about sitting along the trimming but knew it would be too damn hot, so you moved up ahead to the patio to grab one of the bistro chairs from the checkered outdoor table.

Logging onto Instagram live, you patiently waited for some viewers to show up, greeting a few users that you interacted with before, a few internet friends, and others that also sent their greetings in. It’s easy work for you, chatting and seeing what everyone is up to. You answered a few questions about your channel, with the main one being: if there’s been any vlogging going on after revealing you’re on vacation but not where.

~ ctej01: i see armando don’t know what to do wit all that. No way you’re on vacation looking good af n bored. ijs ~

Which set the comments off after that messaged appeared. Of course your ex, Cane Tejada had to be in your live and in your business.

“Don’t you have some other hoes to fuck around with instead of worrying about how much I’m thriving with my man? You must miss me so bad. You’re so used to screwing things up that you don’t even know what the good life looks like, boy bye.” You clapped back, being aware that you should never give this cheater this much attention but you had a little time.

However you knew better than to go back and forth with Cane. He was good at getting a rise out of you and always wanted the last say.

And he could have that because once you said your peace, you started to pay him dust ignoring his laughing emojis and whatever else he decided to throw into the comments. You ended up only talking to the people that mattered and supported you, not some dude who only cared about getting off with other women who can never give him love past the physical. He didn’t respect you so you didn’t have to respect him. That relationship’s been dead for a solid year, maybe even close to two—if you kept track—and here comes this man always lurking. It only amplified once it was revealed that you were no longer in the streets.

Deciding that it was too quiet at the villa you minimized your live to head over to your fav music app, shuffling a random hot girl summer playlist and went back to your live. Scrapping the chair back after you heard that heavy Memphis accent, you already knew you were about to get in your zone regardless of who tried to ruin it.

“It’s 7pm, Friday. Happy Friday y’all!” You grinned after holding up your pointer and thumb.

You fanned yourself with a sway of your hips, “it’s 95 degrees, hoo!”

Unbeknownst to you, Armando had woken up from his third or fifth nap and had sat up looking for you after spotting your sarong abandoned on the chair next to him. It didn’t take him long to find you on your phone, telling no other than your obsessive ex off. There was no doubt in Armando’s mind that you could handle yourself but he was growing tired of that New York native’s game. Armando can only imagine how you felt, it was petty stuff at first—Cane was three years younger anyway so no shock there, leaving comments online like a punk before he even took it further to start leaving voicemails almost threatening that he would come out to Miami.

Armando of course didn’t take that lightly since a lot of his time was now dedicated to AMMO and he always prioritized your safety, doing his own research to find out exactly the kind of guy Cane Tejada is. The dark web provided everything Armando needed (he still had his own style whether the team liked it or not) and it’s not like Cane scared him or anything, it’s the fact that he thought he could continue to be disrespectful even with the relationship being tossed in the dumpster where it belonged.

Armando had plans for him but he just wanted to enjoy his vacation with you first.

“I ain’t got no ni—and no ni—ain’t got me!” You pounded on your chest, fixing the strap to your bikini afterwards just in case of spillage—although you were part of the itty bitty but still they were reserved goods.

You swiftly turned to the side for the next line, which Armando admired just how nice it sat even from a profile view, arms folded as you ran a hand along the side of the shape of your ass, “I’m bout to show my ass—

And with that, you watched in horror as your phone was smacked right across the trimming of the stone pool. The device skidded from your tripod before plunking right into the pool water. Your mouth dropped in shock as you slowly glanced over your shoulder just to feel Armando right behind you.

His husky and straight forward voice hit your ears as he said, “Hope that’s waterproof.”

Sucking your teeth, you turn to the man who meets your eyes, “excuse you?!”

He shrugs his shoulders, biting into a plum as he slowly scans his eyes over your melanin that contrasts over the yellow and green floral set you had on, “what?” He chewed, “Something wrong?”

“Not you trying to rain on my parade to be turnt up with my n-ggas and my bitches.” You placed your hands on your hips in annoyance.

Armando blinks, “you could do that without showing your ass to Cane.”

You tilted your head to the side at this.

Armando was hardly the jealous type, he didn’t care much for anyone having their eyes on you because they should admire you but it was once they started being vocal or even trying to touch you that he had a problem with. Your ex was sitting behind a screen and Armando knew that if Cane really wanted to—if he wasn’t too caught up in his mommy’s business, he could pull up.

And Armando had something for his ass.

“I don’t give a shit about him.”

You’ve done everything by kicking him out of the life and blocking him along with future accounts but with a guy like him? He always found ways around any blockage.

“I know.” Armando kept his usual leveled tone as he held your stare while you molded your lips into your mouth, scratching at your second protective style for the season in confusion.

Clasping your hands together you exhaled, “then what the hell was that?”

Armando finished his plum, licking at his fingers and then his lips before he sat the remains on a table near by. When he turns back to you, he makes a show of getting up close and personal. Lightly gripping your forearms, the pad of his fingertips gently running over your famous sunspot, he flicks his eyes to yours.

“A what don’t got you?” He questioned.

Oh here we go.

You try not to roll your eyes but you’re oh so tempted, “it’s a song and it’s summer! Let me live.”

“And you can do that but not screaming that with your whole chest to viewers.” Armando debates.

Scoffing your reply, “I didn’t see you complaining so much when we were crip walking to ‘not like us,’ the first day we got here.”

Armando pauses, “…that was different.”

“How?”

He doesn’t want to argue, so his hands just slide down to the sides of your ass. With his right hand his pats one side demanding, “jump.”

“No.”

Armando raises his brows and huffs, “okay.” And takes it upon himself to bend and lift you right over his shoulder.

Yelping you quickly find something on his frame to hold onto as he starts walking, “Arman!” You scream just as he jumps into the pool with you in his arms.

When you both resurface, you flick water right at Arman who is smirking while floating towards you. “I told you to jump but since you want to be difficult, i did the honors.”

“Of what? Getting on my nerves?” You start swimming towards one of the edges where’s there’s seating and Armando doesn’t hesitate to follow you.

He snakes a hand across your waist, turning you to face him. His eyes scan all over your face, a faint dimple still playing on one side of his cheek as he soaks in your annoyance. Gently he’s pushing you elsewhere from the seating of the pool and to the wall.

Armando pressed his forehead against yours, “i thought you wanted to play since you were just doing that on Instagram. So how about i give you something to play with?”

“What—

His lips are smashed right to yours, his facial hair tickling against your chin. His kisses burn against your lips as he moves with speed, hands on your hips and your body doesn’t need to fight against your brain to understand what’s happening. Your legs wrap against his hips and your chest to chest with the possibility of your necklaces getting tangled but there’s no one else the both of you wanted to be close to in this moment.

Your nails are scratching along the shortened hair at the back but he knows you’ll be gripping the top once he’s inside. Normally his kisses are soft yet tender while his hands are rough and calculated but right now? Everything is scorching from the weather to simply Armando’s body heat. His ego doesn’t want to give you time to breathe but out of the decency of his heart he does yet that’s no relief because his fingers are at work now.

“Damn mami, I don’t even have to warm you up do I?” He quizzes with a glance downwards.

The pool wall is scratching against your back, the curling of his pointer and the pressing of his thumb that’s just a little higher is dirty work and he knows it. You don’t have time for his shit talking because you’re yanking him by the neck to shut him right up. He matches your speed with no hesitation tasting sweet like plums and mint, your tongues doing just the perfect dance against the Cuban heat. He grunts when you catch him off guard, getting your own feel in his swim trunks.

He pulls back with a pop of your lips, his own movements faltering for a second as you only caress but even that is just right. He pulls his fingers away and place them right at your lips, silently commanding what to do. And so you do, tongue running along the length before sucking, holding Armando’s dilated stare while gripping harder.

“Sweeter than plums, huh?” He asks, his other hand cupping the side of your face.

You hum, ready to slip a hand inside but his smacks your hand away from his waistband. He does the honors of pulling his trunks down just enough and once he gets his other hand back from your lips, his hands are hot on your hips as he lifts you up higher before pushing your own suit to the side to settle right where he belongs.

The moans that echoes through the both of your lips is music to your ears. Armando always gives it time, still in amazement of how you were made to feel around him. He’s panting as he brings his attention back to you but your eyes are closed, also trying to savor him.

“Eyes on me, mami.” He tells you lightly tapping the side of your jaw, “you good?”

You nod before your eyes open to meet his and you match his smirk or freak or whatever. And when he begins to move against you, stretching you so nicely, you have no choice but to bite down on his shoulder (to not scare the birds of course!) so you can recreate a similar spot on your own.

Half lidded you’re lounging on the bed in a robe, your eyes widen as knees knock against the side of the mattress. You lean back against your hand, peering up at Armando that’s softly grinning down at you. He holds out your chipped phone to you and says, “I got you and apparently…you got me too.”

He moves the material to peek at the teeth marks at the top of his own shoulder.

“Shut up,” you croak while Armando laughs bending down to place a chaste kiss to your brow before he crawls over to the back of you.

He loops a hand around you, pulling you right to his chest in a matching robe, letting you get your rest this time.

After at least two minutes passed you awake with a snore, making Armando crane his neck to look at down at you. You snuggle against his chest and whisper, “can you order some garlic parm nugs for later?”

Armando chest jumps with light laughter as he squeezes your shoulder, “yeah baby, whatever you want. It’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Kay,” you sigh, “l love you.”

Armando quirks up a small smile as he gently rubs your back soothingly, “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”

𓇼 〰〰〰〰〰 𓇼 𓇼 〰〰〰〰〰 𓇼 𓇼

Continue with my anthology summer writings & prompts here.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

2 weeks later.... Friday

Eli: There’s a refresher and a donut waiting for u at the L&D desk ms I don’t like coffee. 

Kiyana rolled her eyes with a grin as she texted Eli back. Josh narrowed his eyes as he watched Kiyana smile down at her phone. He tried to ignore it but when she started to actually giggle at the fucking phone he snuck around the kitchen counter and tried to get a peek at who she was texting but she caught on and quickly locked her phone and set down on the counter. 

“You need something?” She asked, rolling her eyes when his eyes glanced down at her phone.  “You got anything planned today or yall just gonna chill?” She asked, grabbing her lunch out of the fridge. When she turned back around he had her phone in his hands.“HEY!” She called out,  snatching her phone out of his hands. “What are you doing?” 

“You changed your password?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Why were you trying to go through my phone? We are div-” 

“Divorced. Yeah you keep bringing it up.”  She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I get off at 9. Will y’all be good until then?” Josh nodded, his jaw was clenched tight as he kept thinking about how Kiyana changed her password to her phone. Kiyana rolled her eyes at his attitude before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door. 

“I love you!” She called out to the boys and Josh heard them call it back before the front door slammed shut. 

“Love you too.” He muttered before going to join his sons in the living room. 

“So you at Dr. Daniels seem to be getting close.” Debra , the senior nurse stated as she eyed the drink in Kiyana’s hand. Kiyana shrugged

“He’s cool.” 

“Cool enough to be talking about asking you on a date.” Debra said, smirking when Kiyana snapped her head towards her. 

“No, we’re just friends.”  Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. Her inner voice said. 

Debra rolled her eyes. “Honey, I helped deliver Elijah forty-something years ago and that man still doesn't bring me coffee everyday.”  Kiyana bit her lip and looked down the hall to where Eli was talking with another nurse. “Look, I know you just got divorced but shit, take the chance. You don’t have to fall in love with him.” Kiyanna sighed and shook her head, it was way too soon for her to even think about going on a date with another man. Her divorce was still fresh, like an open wound. 

“ I think Key already talking to somebody else.” Josh blurted out as he, Trinity and Jon sat in their backyard, keeping a close eye on his two older boys who were swimming. He had put Kairo down for a nap. 

“Well you were fucking someone else while y’all were married so who cares.” Trin said, smacking Jon on his shoulder when he elbowed her in her ribs. “I mean what did you expect? Kiyana is very attractive and now she’s single.”  Trin shrugged. 

“Don’t kick the man while he’s down Trin.” 

“Yeah, damn Trinity. I thought we were better than that.” Josh tried to joke but Trinity was still very pissed off at him. “I know I fucked up. But it’s only been two weeks.” 

“How long is she supposed to wait? Until you’re ready for her to move on?” Trin rolled her eyes. “Leave that woman alone. Her life is no longer a concern of yours..”  Josh didn’t say anything as he brought his attention back to his sons. How was I supposed to get her back if she’s moved on already?

“Fuck him” Shanté muttered. “Fuck him and his stupid mullet. It’s 2024, the eighties called, they want their hairstyle back.” She said giggling at her own joke.  Nikkita rolled her eyes from where she was sitting on their couch. 

“Tae, I been told you to stop messing with that man, She might've divorced him but he still loves her. You can’t compete with that.”  Shanté flipped off her best friend and took another swig from the wine bottle they were passing back and forth. 

“He told me he never wanted to be with me, Nikki.” Nikkita didn’t respond back because.. Duh. It was pretty obvious. Josh only hit Shanté up after the RAW tappings on Monday’s and as soon as he would fly back home to Pensacola he would block her, then start the cycle all over again the next Monday. Nikkita felt bad for her friend but she had also warned her the first time Shanté had told her she hooked up with Josh. 

Kiyana was Josh’s high school sweetheart and from experience, Nikkita knew that Shanté never stood a chance. 

Kiyana let out a sigh of relief as she clocked out for the day. She can finally go home and be with her boys for 3 whole days.  Just as she was about to walk out the front door she heard her name being called. She turned and smiled once she saw it was Elijah. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” He said back slightly out of breath. “I ran all the way down here. Though I missed you.” He smiled at her. 

“You just caught me.” She said, feeling herself blush under the heat of his stare. “Wassup?” 

“I wanna take you out tomorrow night.” Kiyana blinked. “If it's too soon. I apologize, but I really like you Kiyana.” She clutched her purse strap tighter as she felt the butterflies in her tummy start to rumble around.  Kiyana only got that feeling with one man before and she had just divorced him two weeks ago. 

Elijah sighed as she just stared at him. “It’s too soon isn’t it?”  Kiyana quickly broke out of her stupor and shook her head. 

“No,” She cleared her throat. “ I would love to go out with you” 

“Yeah?” Eli asked. “Bet, do you have a babysitter for tomorrow?” Kiyana nodded. “Okay, tomorrow at 8. Text me your address.” 

Kiyana bit her lip as she watched him run back into the hospital, the butterflies more intense as she thought about their date tomorrow night. She let out a groan and let her head fall back, looking towards the sky. She was so fucking screwed. 

Kiyana got her first date since the divorce.. Josh about to be soooooooooooooooooooooooooo fucking petty 😭, y'all just don't understand.

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[oneforthemunny]

can't hurry love |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a little blurb about older!dilf!eddie and reader adjusting to life as parents, which includes learning to have quickies where they can.

contains: domestic fluff. age gap relationship. reader is thirty-three, eddie is forty-nine. dad!eddie x mom!reader. fluff and smut. minors DNI 18+. quickie p in v sex.

Eddie was sure if he heard 'Let It Go' one more time he was going to scream, rip his hair out and shove it into his ears so he didn't have to hear the song ever again. He thought Strawberry Shortcake was bad, but it was nothing compared to this- a new level of hell that Delilah insisted on playing on a loop over and over and over. He figured it was probably because of her new Elsa dress, a costume blue replica of the character's that came with all the accessories- including a very tangled and tattered wig that you were "fixing". He had Wayne to thank for that, the old man could never say no to either of his grand babies.

Eddie was going to make sure he put the idea in Lilah's head to make Poppa watch the sing-along version the next time he dropped her off, give him a taste of his own medicine; but he knew deep down Wayne wouldn't mind.

"Delilah," You called carefully, padding into the living room with a basket full of her clothes on your hip, ready to be washed from the week before. "I think it's time for us to go lay down."

Eddie cringed, the soft whimper of shock, rounding eyes and a pout that made his heart lurch in his chest, followed by the expectant whine, loud and shrill. "Noooo..." Delilah stomped her foot. "No, Mama, we're not done with the movie!"

You looked at Eddie, lips pursed. You knew he'd cave if she begged too much, and you wanted to stop it before it started. "Delilah," You warned lifting a brow. "You gotta have a nap, baby. You'll be so mean and cranky if you don't."

"Daddy, tell her no." Delilah whined, climbing into Eddie's lap, curling into his chest. Your lips twitched, biting back a smile. You wanted to be irritated, but you couldn't. Three years old and already knew exactly how to play Eddie so he'd bend to her every whim. You wished you were surprised, but between you and Brielle, she was bound to learn the ways of the women around her.

Eddie's eyes softened, cradling her head into his chest, stroking her soft curls. He looked up at you pleadingly. "Just a few more minutes," He said, face melting. He looked down, Delilah's tiny fist rubbing her eyes as she fought back a yawn, easing into his chest and relaxing under his touch.

You tsked, lifting a brow at him. "Eddie, we talked about this." You warned quietly. You had been trying for weeks to get Delilah to go to sleep on her own, starting to ween her out of long snuggles and holding her until she fell asleep. She would start school in only a few years, and didn't need to be coddled like that and make it worse on herself.

Eddie had been less than thrilled. He loved nothing more than cuddling with his baby before she went to bed, reading her a story, his readers perched on his nose doing animated voices that riled her up more than soothed her. Often, especially if he was working at the shop late, it was the only time he got with her. He was so pouty when you talked to him about it the first time, petulant with huffy grumbles and protest, but he knew you were right.

"Just give us a few minutes, please?" Eddie's face contorted into a small smile. "The troll songs about to come on, then we'll go nap after that. Right, Pickles?"

Delilah giggled, half her face still resting on her dad's chest, her eyes still trained on the movie. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Fine, I'll go start this load and then you're going to take a nap, missy." You pointed at Delilah, who huffed and whined. Eddie's gruff, soothing voice peppering words and kisses into her hairline.

You dumped the clothes in, bending over to see a pair of your panties had dropped between the washer and dryer. You shimmied your hand down to snatch the clothing piece, blushing and rolling your lip between your teeth when you held it in front of you. It was a lacy black pair, part of a set you bought for Eddie's birthday, that you must've dropped, seeing as it was still covered in your release and his, dried and crusted on the black fabric.

Your legs squeezed together at the memory. You'd taken Eddie to the bar, meeting all his friends for his birthday, even bringing a cake to share at the small booth you rented out, everyone drunkenly serenading the birthday boy. The real surprise was when you got home. Madeline had offered to watch Delilah for the night, ecstatic to see her niece and spend time with her, so you had the house to just the two of you. As soon as you'd shown Eddie the lingerie set, he'd bent you over the arm of the couch, pounding into you relentlessly, not even bothering to take the panties off.

That had been over two weeks ago.

The shift from fucking each other anytime you wanted to with no worries, to having to sneak and worry about being interrupted by the baby monitor or tiny feet padding to your room was a hard adjustment for both of you. Even for Eddie, who had done it once before, it was still hard.

You poured the detergent in, tossing your panties in the wash, before starting the machine. You placed the basket on top, lips twisting in thought before walking back into the living room.

Delilah was heavy lidded, curled into Eddie's chest nearly half asleep when you stepped in front of the TV, hands on your hips. "Nap time, sweet girl." You cooed, turning off the television.

Delilah cried, angry and irritated, burying her face in Eddie's chest. "No, Mama, no!" She wailed, clinging to Eddie tightly. "Tell her no, Daddy!"

"I don't think that will matter, baby cakes." Eddie snorted lightly, running a hand down her back. "You know Mama's the boss lady around here. You better listen to her."

You bit back a grin, shaking your head at him. "Lilah, let's go. C'mon, Mama will go tuck you in."

Delilah cried, fat, crocodile tears streamed down her little red face. You knew it was probably from exhaustion more than anything else. She always got so cranky after lunch. "I not tired!" Delilah lisped, her 'r' sounding more like a 'w', and it made Eddie's heart swell, holding her closer to his chest, pressing his cheek against her head sweetly.

"Here, baby, I'll come lay with you ok? Just until you go to sleep, and then when you wake up we can play with your toys some more, ok?" Eddie cooed sweetly, avoiding your hard gaze.

"No," You said, shaking your head. "I'll go put her down, and I need your help in the bedroom, please." You eyed him carefully.

Eddie's brows knitted in confusion, twisting with a questioning look. You blinked, eyes flickering to your room down the hall. "Just go wait for me, please." You grit though your teeth. "I've got a really bad itch and I need you to scratch it, please."

Eddie's eyes flashed in confusion before widening, bulging in realization. The euphemism wasn't great by a long shot, you were trying to talk in code in front of your toddler, who was more interested in crying and screaming than whatever you two were discussing. Eddie blushed, mouth running dry. He pressed a quick kiss to Delilah's cheek, muttering a small promise that soothed her a bit before her nap, then handing her off to you.

You looked at him over the top of Delilah's curls, nodding down the hall before going into her room.

Delilah went down fairly easy, too exhausted from the constant running and excitement of the day to whine and protest too long. You'd tucked her in before sitting outside her door to make sure she stayed in her bed, listening until her little cries turned into sniffles then silence, the noise machine drowning out her little snores. You peeked in the room, illuminated by the soft glow of the night light and the sun peeking through the drawn curtains, before tip toeing down the hall to yours and Eddie's room.

Eddie perked up when you walked in, eyes lighting up when you shut the door behind you. "Did you get her down?" Eddie asked eagerly, standing up.

You nodded, shimmying out of your sweatpants and pulling your shirt over your head. "Yes," You muttered, feeling his eyes gawk at your bare body. You didn't wait for whatever lewd and suggestive comment was on his tongue, pressing yourself against him, your lips catching his, tugging him in deeper and deeper into you.

Eddie's hands found the small of your back, calloused skin skating down towards your ass, cupping and squeezing the fat of it until you moaned into his mouth. He dropped lower, hands tucking between your legs, swiping through your wet folds. You could feel him smirk into your mouth.

"Dirty girl," He tsked, pulling his shining fingers out with a dimpled grin. "What's gotten into you, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, huffing and reaching for the band of his sweatpants. You could see his growing erection already tenting the soft fabric, rolling your hand over his cock, squeezing it lightly before shoving his pants roughly to the ground.

"Shut up." You muttered with an eye roll, feeling his arrogant grin on you, mouth watering at the sight of his cock, thick and veiny, practically touching your nose. You wanted to bury your face in his groin, smother his dick with wet kisses, that's how much you missed it.

You pumped him a few times, silken skin soft in your hands. Eddie groaned, tipping his head back and you huffed. "Be quiet, you'll wake her up." You pouted, swiping your tongue over his tip.

"Then don't do that-fuck." Eddie groaned, hands finding your hair, gripping it lightly. You swallowed him easily down your throat, hands gripping his hair thighs to steady yourself, bobbing up and down on his shaft. "Shit, bunny, that-that's so good, but I need to be inside you."

You pulled off him with a small pop, eyes lifting to his in amusement. You wiped the back of your mouth with your wrist, his hands guiding you to stand up. "Never thought I'd here you say that." You smirked.

Eddie snorted with an eye roll. He smacked your ass playfully, hard enough to have you yelp and squeal, thighs rubbing together for friction. "Just get on the bed." He muttered. "Let me scratch that itch." He grinned.

You blushed, turning and climbing onto the bed, crawling into a table top position. "What? I didn't know what to say." You laughed with a small shrug, bending your front half to sink onto the mattress.

Craning your head to look over your shoulder, Eddie smirked, eyes rolling over your body, your presented ass and glistening pussy, ready and needy for him. You wiggled your hips, ass jiggling in front of him.

"C'mon, hurry up, before she wakes up and interrupts us, again." You groaned, watching him pump his length before situating himself behind you. "Gotta be quick."

Eddie exhaled slowly out his nose, smirking and rolling his tongue over his bottom lip. "I gotcha, bunny, I know." He grinned. "I'll get ya there, just slow down." He swiped his fingered over your folds, pushing his pointer finger into your sopping hole. You shoved your face into the mattress, muffling your loud, desperate moan that tore from your chest.

Eddie moved, positioning himself behind you. "Ready?" He asked, and you nodded. Eddie pushed in slowly, cock splitting you open, the burn from the stretch of his length against your walls made you whine, simmering out with the familiar mind numbing pleasure that always left you complacent and dizzy.

Eddie groaned lowly when he bottomed out, hunching over so his bare chest was pressed to your back. "Holy fucking shit, bunny." He ground his hips against the meat of your ass. "Been too fuckin' long, baby. Way too fuckin' long."

You moaned when he pulled out, hips snapping against yours, a rhythm building and pleasure pooling deep in your belly. You knew you'd be cumming in no time, the overwhelming pleasure mixed with the fact that you hadn't had him in so long, your legs were already beginning to shake, abdomen clenching and fists grappling at the sheets.

Eddie huffed, hot breath on your bare shoulder blades, pressing sloppy, wet, open mouthed kisses to your hot skin, nuzzling the scruff of his beard into you. "God, fuck, 'm not gonna last long." He warned, hand snaking between you, fingers expertly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you crying out.

"Should be a fuckin' crime to not fuck you for as long as I did, shit." Eddie hissed. "A pussy this sweet? And I've gone too long without it, haven't I?" Eddie cooed into your ear, a little taunting and mean. Your legs clenched around his hand. "You've just been a little pent up, haven't you, bunny? So needy for me, and I didn't even know, huh?"

"Fuck," You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. His hand on your clit pressed down harder, cock jabbing your g-spot so hard you were sure you'd be spilling over him in no time. "Too long, 's too long." You babbled.

Eddie felt his stomach clench, cock twitching deep inside your velvety walls. His hands gripped harder on your hips, thrusting deeper and harder, sloppy and sharp thrusts that took your breath away. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" Eddie's fingers worked faster on your clit, jaw clenching when he rocked harder into you, bed squeaking, mattress springs creaking with every harsh snap of his hips.

You whimpered, the pleasure building so closely you could feel yourself tipping closer and closer towards the edge of ecstasy. Eddie could feel you clenching, his hand still working on your puffy, sensitive clit, thrusting harder, while his other cracked down on the side of your ass, a resounding smack that left you crying out- a bit too loudly- a final thrust sending you reeling falling into the mattress with a fucked out cry.

"Thank fuck-ugh!" Eddie groaned, his own cock spilling deep inside you. He moved slow, pushing farther and farther into you until you'd collected every drop of him. His head fell forward, curly tendrils tickling your back, his hot breath ghosting over your skin.

You could feel him, warm inside of you, filled with every drop of his rather large load. Eddie rested his cheek, stubble skin pressed to the skin of your back, eyes closed and breathing in your scent, calming and grounding while he caught his breath.

You grinned, eyes fluttering at the feeling of him, his weight on top of you, still buried deep inside of you. The house filled with an odd moment of silence, the ceiling fan above you spinning was the only sound other than the labored breaths of you and Eddie. If you listened closely, you could hear the very faint sound of Delilah's sound machine, muffled to a small buzz down the hall.

Eddie moved his hand, tucking it so it cupped your cheek sweetly, tilting to bring you closer to him. He didn't say anything, slotting his lips over yours in a tender, sweet kiss, full of love and passion, like after a date night and a few glasses of wine. You smiled, his forehead against yours as you moved closer to him, content and basking in his embrace. He left you warm from the inside out, bubbly and happy, full of joy that he was yours; that this was your life together, a life you created that was far sweeter than anything you could've ever imagined- even if it started out a little unconventional.

The chirping sound of the washer singing and ringing rang through the house, signaling the the wash cycle was done. You sighed slowly, eyes meeting Eddie's through a glassy gaze. "I think I better go switch them over." You muttered, your lips brushing his, nose touching. "And you better go smoke now if you want to, before she wakes up."

Eddie sighed heavily, lips brushing against yours in a gentle peck, before he pushed himself up, groaning and the creaks and clicks of his joints and bones. "Agh," He hissed, pulling out of you slowly, his release falling in a puddle underneath you.

"Ed," You huffed, lifting your ass up farther to try and keep anymore from spilling. "Now I have to wash that too."

Eddie smirked, grabbing a wash cloth out of the bathroom and wetting it before coming back. "Sorry, baby." He muttered, wiping you slowly. You shifted, rolling over onto your back while he finished cleaning you, sucking in a breath at the sensitivity between your legs.

Eddie settled himself back between your legs, rubbing against your ass suggestively. "Think she'd stay down for another round?" He asked, scanning your naked chest.

You scoffed, pushing him back lightly by his sternum. "Please, we better not test our luck." You rolled your eyes, sitting up, legs hanging over the side of the bed.

You stood, bending down to shimmy back on your discarded sweatpants. You could feel Eddie's blistering gaze on your ass. "Besides," You smirked, biting back a smirk. "You couldn't get it up for a second round, geezer." You teased.

Eddie's jaw ticked, scoffing challengingly, arms crossing over his inked chest. You laughed, putting on your shirt with a small blush. "Alright," Eddie's tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek, eyes narrowing lightly at you. "I'll remember that, baby."

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, lifting on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "'M just kidding." You giggled, batting your eyes lovingly at him.

Eddie's hands snaked down, cracking against your sweatpants clad ass before gripping your waist tightly. "You wait until tonight, bunny. We'll see how many rounds I can go." He growled threateningly, but his eyes twinkled playfully, lustfully and alluring.

You broke apart, gathering the blanket from the bed in your arms while Eddie got dressed. He caught your waist when you passed him, arms full of the blanket, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, your head tipping back and reeling under his touch.

"Love you," Eddie muttered, kissing the tip of your nose. He fumbled in his top drawer for a cigarette and his lighter, winking at you when you dreamily repeated the phrase back to him, feeling airy and gooey, like a school girl with a second period crush. He still made you feel so important, so loved and adored.

[lostintransist]

Liaison | 3 - Costco Is Not For The Weak

Check out the part 1 or part 2.

Wandering into the kitchen on a break, you let your thoughts drift back to the second week on the job. You couldn’t work on your own yet and Kate had to be off-site for a meeting, leaving you with nothing to do. She had left you a book of names and faces to memorize but that tedious task did not appeal. That day Gaz tapped you to go to Costco with him and Harold, the receptionist.

“Come on,” he cajoled, “We need someone who can lift heavy things.”

Gaz’s easy manners and quick smile helped you feel at ease, and you liked Harold. He reminded you of what you expected it to be like having a grandpa.

“Fine, but I will be buying things I need for the office too.”

Gaz leveraged himself up using the desk. He had said when he picked you up from the airport that he had taken some shrapnel to the thigh and Doc wouldn’t clear him until PT said he could run on it.

“What kind of things would you need for the office?” He offers you a hand up.

You decline with a shake of your head and uncurl yourself from the office chair.

“Well, a better office chair for one. But I will be taking a lot of phone calls and I need something to do while those are going on so I figured I could make cookies, breads, and the like. The kneading dough will be a good way to avoid yelling at senators.”

Gaz let out a bark of laughter, “Good luck with that.”

Harold drove them to Costco, navigating the streets like a veteran. He chatted away about his garden, the growing conditions, and the soil’s acidity. Soaking in his voice’s warm timbre, you learn more about plants than you did before the drive started. You and Harold both flash a membership card, much to his delight. You spend the remainder of the trip pointing out the differences from a US Costco as Harold and even Gaz had many questions.

Harold, upon hearing of your penchant for baking, bought a full set of bowls, spoons, and baking trays.

“My late wife loved to bake,” Harold stares down sadly at the bread tin in his hand. “She’s been gone seven years and it still feels like she will walk through the front door with a smile and an apology for being late.”

“How long were you married, Harold?” Gaz asks as he rearranges the cart for the third time.

“Forty-two years with my Sharron, I don’t know that ninety years would have been enough.” The longing in his voice moved you to tears.

Gaz, aghast and concerned loudly points out the fact you are crying.

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh just leave me alone Gaz, it’s the Costco prices getting to me. Costco is not for the weak.” You fan your eyes, attempting to dry out the tears. “Harold, what is your favorite thing your wife would bake?”

“Peach pie, dear are you sure you are okay?” He pulls you into a side hug.

“I��ll be okay. Something about how much you love your wife just caught me in a tender spot is all.” A watery laugh and a sniffle seem to reassure both men. You take the handkerchief that Harold offers and wipe at your nose. “I’ll return this once it is clean. Now we have a lot left to buy so let’s go.”

The trip took several hours between the slow walking speed of Gaz and Harold and the excessive list Harold had. The cabinets and fridge were kept full as many members of the team would roll in hungry off jobs and would often sleep in some of the side offices set up for that reason. You hadn’t seen any of them yet but were told they were locked from the inside and indicated if they were in use.

“We all work such wonky schedules that sometimes a nap is needed to get through the paperwork,” Gaz groused.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully, I won’t need to use it.”

The side eye Gaz sent you said you would be using it, and often. He turned out to be right.

Checkout went smoothly, if a bit long. When the total rang up on the screen the comma caused you to wince. Harold swiped the company credit card without a hint of concern. With how much money the company made on a single man job you shouldn’t have worried.

The drive back to the office had been a tight fit. Once the boot of the car had been filled Harold instructed you in his best grandpa voice to get buckled in and he would load things in for you to hold. He did the same to Gaz.

“That’s it, Harold, you can’t wait so long between trips,” he let out a heavy oof as a box of protein drinks is set on his lap.

“Mr. Gaz I am an old man and unless you can convince Mr. Shepard to let me have the items delivered I must wait until someone can come with me,” Harold chides him gently.

You let out a small snort. Gaz flicks your ear while Harold is making another run to the cart at the back of the car.

“I will bite you,” you snarl at him.

You and Gaz had clicked into a sibling relationship so quickly it could be called concerning. It probably came from how he would sit and bother you as you were trying to work between his physical therapy appointments. He had broken three pens, a stapler, and a staple puller. The last one still didn’t make sense to you. How does one break such a simple tool? One of the extra purchases included a collection of small baskets that you would fill with fidgets for Gaz and others to play with.

Harold shut the doors and returned the cart. When he settled into the driver’s seat you caught sight of the time.

“I can help get as much in as I can, but I have a meeting with Kate in about forty-five minutes. Anything you can’t put away before you leave I can handle after my meeting. Anything that is for me if you wouldn’t mind leaving it on the counter. I can clear out a cabinet for my baking supplies.”

“I can do that for you dear, Gaz and I can handle moving everything in, we have a flat trolley for trips like this,” Harold replied.

Part 2 | AO3 (Up to chapter 27 as of this post)

Masterlist

[fluorescentbalaclava]

training season's over

chapter 1: Ground Zero

Summary:

After 5 years of service in KorTac, they consider you capable enough to hold yourself in solo missions. Money and freedom, what else could you ask for? But what feels like a good start, progressively starts to backfire.

TF141/female reader, Konig/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, militar inaccuracies, suggestive language, language, canon typical violence

This is an introductory chapter. Mandatory mention that English isn't my first language so apologies in advance. Hope you enjoy!

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Movies were absolutely right in one thing, one of the big parts in the life of a spy consisted in being shoved into small spaces for a bit too much time, mostly air vents. A little fact they forgot to add, is how fucking boring it could be while you waited for the for the moment to act.

They are late. You thought as you rested your head against the wall of the same air vent you’ve been in for the last forty-six minutes.

1900 – You were dropped in a nearby building by a car without a number plate, property of KorTac.

1920 - You’ve managed to catch a maintenance man smoking a cigarette on his break, successfully making him nap with an always handy syringe of tranquilizer, stealing his card, as well as his overall and cap, using it to sneak inside the building. Once you got inside, you saw the maintenance cart, and you used it to hide your tool bag. The way up wasn’t too complicated, as everyone seemed to respect the uniform, probably assuming something just needed to be fixed, and since you had the maintenance key card, you didn’t have to ask for permission to get through doors.

1945 – You were already on the roof, after what felt like a life climbing stairs to avoid most of the cameras, you discarded the uniform, and got everything needed from your bag before letting it hang from your back. You walked to the edge of the roof, big fall but not a big gap between buildings, you knew you could make the jump, but before that, you pressed the comm.

“Sage to Control, how copy?” You said quietly, while taking a moment while you wait to admire the view of the city. Perfect October day, the night already fell, the cold breeze hit your face, making you lift your face mask, only leaving your eyes uncovered. The streets beneath were full of traffic, full of lights, full of life.

“Control to Sage, send traffic.” Your station chief said through the comm, reminding you that you were here for work, not to admire the view.

“I’m in my first position, everything peachy so far. Remind me to check on the tied-up janitor in the alleyway on my way back”.

“For now, just try to get in there without a fuss. Remember---”

“I know, no execution authority, don’t get caught, recovery mission only. Get the intel without the 141 noticing, got it. I’m not a rookie anymore, remember? Playing on the big leagues now” You said with a hint of amusement, and the man behind the comm could hear the smile on your voice, which made him sigh.

“Listen, Sage, I know the first solo mission sounds exciting, but König was right to be worried when we left. The 141 is a dangerous unit, you must avoid contact by any means necessary…I don’t even know why they’re sending you alone in this, I think it’s a bit irrespon---”

“---sible to send a rookie? Don’t worry, I am not planning on getting caught. And for your information, I am being sent because all the other spies from the force are already in other missions, and I’m the only one left that fits into an air vent…but honestly, it’ll be fine, and if not, please bury me with my Sylvanian Families collection.” You said as you were eyeing the jumping distance, letting out a grunt as you throw your tool bag, which landed in the roof of the other building. “141 is supposed to be here at 2030 according to the intel, right? I should get going to get in position. I will listen but I will have to cut contact from my end, update me on the status”.

“You have a Sylvanian Families collection?” The voice now sounded confused on the other side of the frequency.

“Unimportant now. Update me on the status of the guests every 15 minutes. Over” You said before cutting communication on your side.

You took a few steps back, before running to the edge and jumping, landing on your feet in the next roof, which made you feel a small sense of pride, and it was a shame no one was there to witness your dexterity skills

The briefing for this mission made it very clear that this was a very important one, hour after hour spent studying the blueprint of the building, the map of the air system, and going through multiple contingency plans for every scenario that could happen. Alone, back in your bunk bed, you felt that the blueprint was already burned into your eyelids. Not only that, but four manila folders were often read back-to-back by you, and four names were constantly in your head.

Price.

Ghost.

Soap.

Gaz.

The folders contained multiple transcriptions of some of their communications, information of previous deployments, and some of their personal data. You also got some files on your work laptop containing security videos obtained of them. They were not only clearly bigger than you, but their form didn’t stop them from being able to be sneaky and fast. If they found you around, for sure you were dead.

From the roof, you went down an air vent with the help of a rope, until you reached a horizontal vent, which allowed you to start crawling. It was easy from here, forward, then left, then right, and straight until you reached the vent over two hallways in the shape of a T, and in the hall at the side there was a large window with view to the city, where the 141 was supposed to arrive any minute now. The hall was empty, as the armed guards were outside, protecting the three doors that connected the main building to the halls, and there it was, a heavy metal door that led to the office when the needed intel was. Some files about imports and exports, you weren’t really given much information about them, only their label to be able to identify them and the order to burn the rest of the papers.

Going down the air vent to the office wasn’t an option, as it would trigger the security system, the only way was to get in from the front with the keycard but get it from the guards directly would get the attention of the rest of them, going against the orders of being subtle. You had to wait for the 141, and use them as a distraction, knock the guard, steal the keycard, create further distractions, steal the files and leave a charge of explosives in the office. Easy-peasy.

“Control to Sage. They were dropped by a helo on the top of the building. Get ready to act. Over” The words snapped you out of your boredom, and you already felt your body pumping adrenaline to get you ready to move.

Soon enough, a loud crash of glass broke the silence, followed by three loud stomps on the floor, making the shattered glass on the floor crack underneath their boots. They seemed even bigger in person but given their entrance they were stealthier in the recorded footage.

“Bravo 0-7 to Watcher-1. We are in position, waiting for contact” A husky voice said, and you recognized the man as Ghost, which wasn’t hard considering he was wearing the same skull mask as in the files. The three men had their arms ready, and you heard the sound of the keycard granting access, soon followed by gunshots. The first ones to go down were the guards of the hall that was beneath you, the two dead bodies falling into the ground. But the group didn’t have a rest as guards started shooting from the other doors, and from the fallen guards corpses you could hear how they others were calling for back ups through the comms.

Shit. Be fast.

You opened the vent grid, the sound of shooting covering the sounds of metal, and taking advantage of the situation, you threw a smoke grenade at their feet.

“Fuck!” Another voice said as smoke starting to cloud the vision of a part of the hall. You quickly dropped from the air vent, your feet barely making any sound against the ground, and you crouched, stealing the key card from the dead guard, and quickly making your way to the office, not before throwing another smoke grenade at them to keep them busy.

The key card granted you access, deactivating the security system, and you quickly entered the empty office, hearing some coughing from the outside, and more shooting and screaming that got muffled as soon as you closed the door. You quickly put a chair on the door, in case they would try to get in, it would grant you some more minutes.

You searched through the office, not bothering to be tidy, just dropping the papers on the floor…and then you found the file, a twinkle of excitement appeared in your eyes as you put the folder in your mouth, stepping over the desk and taking from your bag a little box of tools. You took out a screwdriver, and tried to rapidly, but calmly, unscrew the grid of the air vent. Your eyes widened when you heard a loud “Clear!” from down the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps. You managed to make the grid fell, and you swiftly climbed into it. Once up there, you threw the explosives down the office with a detonator, which grant you three minutes to crawl your way out of the air vent. As you passed by, you could see the task force going through the corpses to find a keycard.

“Found one, LT” You heard underneath you, as one of them stood up, holding a key card. Mohawk = Soap, you thought to yourself.

“Wait, you hear that?” Another one says. Pretty boy = Gaz.

You stopped on your tracks, not even breathing. Before you heard a gasp for air coming from a guard, followed by a shot.

“Found it” Ghost answered.

You felt relief flooding your body, but you couldn’t enjoy your small victory properly as the sound of the explosion left your ears ringing. A heavy warmth flooded the air vent, and under you, the sound of glass, grunts and three heavy bodies falling onto the ground. Your ears were still ringing, the heat was slowly becoming unbearable, and the smell of smoke flooded the narrow space as you tried to crawl faster through it.

As you reached the vertical vent, you used your ascender and quickly got to the top. You gasped for air as you felt the cold autumn breeze on your face. As your eyes adjusted to the night, you saw the ropes and some other equipment the 141 left behind them. It wasn’t time to rest yet, as you took the file out of your mouth, saving it to your bag, before throwing it across the gap and into the roof you came from. Soon enough, you followed after, jumping across the gap between both buildings.

Your fall wasn’t as graceful as the first, accidentally missing a step and landing on your knees with a grunt. But you let yourself fall on your back against the concrete. Your face felt like it was burning, the breeze was pleasant against your flushed skin, your clothes and hair reeking of smoke, but once again oxygen was filling your lungs. As you catch your breath, you pressed your comm.

“Sage to Control. How copy?” You asked in a low voice, panting.

“Control to Sage. Are you okay?” The voice quickly answered.

“Yeah, yeah, got the intel. I’m in one piece. Ready for extraction, a shower, and a nap”

“Copy, Sage. Picking you up on the alley, remember to untie the handy man”.

Back in the base the mission was considered so successful that for the next few months your rank went from sergeant to "Task Force 141 shadow" as the first mission and your survival rate apparently meant that you were the first choice for any mission that involved them. They considered the indirect approach worked better than directly engaging in combat against them, which left casualties between the KorTac ranks in the past.

Every mission for intel they had, you were behind them, lurking in the shadows, waiting for them to just start shooting to use the confrontation as a distraction to get to the target first. It was funny to hear them frustrated and annoyed over the comms when they realized that once more, they lost the intel. And then it's fate was obvious once KorTac put it on the market, selling it to the best bidder, or sometimes even using it to complete their own missions.

"You have to be careful, maus. I know you think it's fun, but they're dangerous, like us" You found cute when König used pet names. It was truly amazing how such a unit of a man was capable of being soft at the same time, ever since you started working there under his command until now.

But lately you didn't feel like a mouse, you felt like a hyena or a vulture, just scavenging while the bigger predators weren't looking.

"It's alright, don't worry, bud. I promise you I'm being as careful as I've always been" You said in a reassuring tone, a soft smile on your lips, and you squeezed his arm as he was sitting across you on the common room, a hot tea brewing in front of you.

"That's why I'm worried" König had an unsure look, under his sniper hood, his eyes fixated on your mug, rather than you. And you could tell he was anxious by the way he was shaking his leg. "Just don't leave any tracks, ja?"

What you weren't going to admit to him, is that you were growing slightly fond of the task force you so dutifully followed around. During these months you learned plenty of things about them, just by staying hidden and listening, like Ghost's dad jokes, Gaz unluckiness with helicopters, Soap's preference to play as a goalkeeper while playing football.

You blamed the growing one-sided familiarity by the fact that your new assignments made you spend lots of hours alone, lurking, stalking, in position ready to strike the moment things unfold. Back in base, and since you started to work alone, it was only in rare occasions you were at the same time as your old unit, the opportunities to catch up with them and being social becoming scarce.

And they seemed to be so close, so used to each other, so comfortable to even use their names sometimes. You had to admit you weren't used to that. You didn't even know König actual name let alone his face, and even if other members were more open about their names, their backgrounds were still vague. Not that you were an open book, as you only went by your callsign, your real name a secret between your contractors and you. But back in KorTac the less you knew, the better. It's probably for the best, anyway. Another very possible reason for your newfound fondness was the fact that after every successful mission came a very generous check. In fact, so generous that it was enough, plus your savings, to purchase a flat. Not too fancy, but cozy and big enough for you and your things, and something to call your own as well.

Moving in was tedious, lots of boxes and newspapers wrapped around the fragile stuff, and you were too tired from work to really unpack everything, leaving only the necessary items out. You definitely needed to have dinner and have a nocturnal nap before you keep on unpacking stuff, and the other things weren't as urgent. Besides, it would be a few weeks before your next mission, so you had plenty of time to enjoy settling down in your new home and looking around the neighbourhood. For now, you could really use some food, and at this hour you certainly weren't going to cook. You grabbed your jacket and went down the street.

Thankfully, there was a Chinese place in a five-minute walk. There were lots of people around, going to pubs, as it was a bit of a commercial area. It was nice, some fairy lights, some decorations, people sharing drinks, laughing, you could get used to walking around here. You ordered a serve of chow mein and three spring rolls, got it in a bag and made your way back to your flat.

The building you lived in now was a bit old, so you had a fob for the main entrance and a key for your flat. The door creaked a bit when you opened it, and you closed it behind you, but as you turned around you bumped into something that felt almost like colliding against a brick wall, you turned around and you saw some hands inside a mailbox.

"So sorry, si---" You said looking up and as soon as your eyes focused on the figure you felt how your face went pale, and how all the blood of your body went to your legs, your mind screaming you to flee.

Black eyes stared back at you, and that was the only part you could see, as the rest of the face was covered by a balaclava with a skull print on it. Fuck...

"Staring is rude" That husky voice you were so used to hearing through a comm sounded so clear, and the grip on the takeaway bag tightened.

The fuck is Ghost doing here.

"I-I..." You had to clear your throat, to manage any words out. "Sorry, I'm usually more polite, you just...caught me off guard."

"Haven't seen you here before" He lives here?! No way. This is a trap.

"Moved in this morning" You answered as flatly as you could.

"Ah" He said in an uninterested tone, as he went back to check the mail.

You couldn't help but stare up at him, completely dumbfounded. He was wearing a hoodie covering his head, blank pants, and heavy boots. Why isn't he attacking me? Does he know who I am? What the fuck is this? Jesus, I could throw up.

"Can I help you with something?" He answered in the same tone, not bothering to look back at you a second time.

"You live here?"

"Third floor" He answered plainly.

"Ah" Does he genuinely just lives here? No way, they're setting me up. "Why check the mail at night?"

"Just arrived" He answered as he broke one of the envelopes and checked it's contents. Light bill, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

He is so much taller up close.

"Right…alright, see you around…" You said before quickly going up the stairs, so taken aback that you completely forgot about the elevator.

You arrived to your flat, a bit agitated, and closed the door with the lock behind you. And added a chair under the doorknob, for good measure.

You left the food on the table, and quickly went to grab one of your guns. A SIG Sauer P320, and you checked every room, not that there were many rooms to check. The bedroom, the living-dining room, and the bathroom. Both for people and for cameras or mics, but everything looked normal, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of place. Lock the windows just in case.

After your thorough search, you sat at your dinner table, left the gun next to you, before beginning to unpack your food. You ate as your eyes were fixated on the door, waiting for someone to come in shooting, for a team, for a raid, anything.

0000 – No contact.

0100 – No contact.

0200 – Still no contact.

0300 – Fuck, I’m tired.

Not today, it seems...fuck, this isn't a coincidence, out of all the buildings in this fucking island he lives here? No bloody way. They know.

next: chapter two "charlie foxtrot"

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

[radiance1]

Back on my bullshit with the Eastern Dragon Danny and Phoenix Vlad au:

So basically, Vlad decided to go to sleep for a while, inside a modified coffin built to withstand him and all that. So, he tells Danny a specific time to wake him so that he could resume his duties as Duke.

Why did Vlad decide to take a really long nap? Because he was extremely tired of ghost zone politics and decided to just go fuck it, I need a nap.

The deadline he needed Danny to wake him up at is relatively short in ghost terms really, just about a period of 40 years, he's currently 20, so at the end of this he should just be an even 60. Which would give him plenty of time to finish forty years of work before his rebirth cycle kicked in again.

He gave Danny the key to said coffin, with its specific magical signature and everything. So he expected and trusted that Danny would awaken him within a span of forty years, perhaps a bit earlier if push came to shove.

Then he just went to sleep.

Danny doesn't like his decision to just, up and go sleep for forty years, only because he would have to be the one doing the paperwork but its like, whatever he guessed. Do Danny was now actually handling the paperwork and navigating ghostly politics once more!

Joy...

He was buried in work for a fair amount of time, sometimes literally, and had to kick it back for a bit before going back to work. He felt like he was forgetting something, though...

A key appeared under a stack of papers that he just worked through, a veeeeeeery familiar key that he was sure had some kind of importance based on that itchy feeling in the back of his skull.

Eh, it's probably not important.

Welp, back to work!

Danny worked in silence for a bit, before getting up and slamming his hands on his desk.

OH FUCK, VLAD!

It's been waaaay more than 40 years last he checked, enough time that Vlad must've rebirthed inside his coffin already by like, a lot of times by now.

Considering that 5 millenniums have passed.

Well, shit.

So he hid the key in his hair, shifted, and flew off to Vlad's domain to wake him up. But when he got there, weeeeell, let's just say that Vlad's coffin was. Well.

It was gone.

Now, you see Observants. He had a totally reasonable explanation for this, you know. It was uh, well, you know, he just, ya'know?

He just, kinda, forgot...

He'll get him back! He swears! He just, need to, ya'know, find the guy!

Couldn't be that hard!

Another five millenniums later, he felt like punching his past self for fucking jinxing future him! The Observants were literally breathing down his neck to find the guy, and he didn't want to go back to doing paperwork either!

His salvation came in the form of a summoning, one he answered and finally, finally found the location of Vlad's coffin. He honestly got extremely, he didn't want to face paperwork again, so he asked these group of heroes to help him find this specific coffin in exchange for whatever they wanted him to do.

And he's Ancient damn thankful he did cause oh boy, cause like 2 days later he was presented the coffin that was just sitting collecting dust in some magician guy's house that was apparently passed down throughout generations that the Justice League managed to get their hands on.

So he opened it, and literally had to catch Vlad, who fell out of his coffin and looked like a literal 10-year-old. Did Vlad's temporary retirement plan include his deadline of 40 years being stretched by 9,960 years? No, no it did not, and unlike the previous ghost king, he was not unaffected by the length of his sleep.

So forgive him if he had to relearn how to do basic body functions, his memory foggy, and his powers were a bit outta wack.

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 4: Every Time You Smile, You Laugh, You Glow

Collaboration with my ultimate soulmate, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: Eddie's determined to help Sunshine wake up, but when she does, will the truth break them apart or bring them closer together?

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, angst, hurt/comfort

WC: 6.3k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

It seems like years pass before the doctors come out and report that they’ve been able to stabilize you, but that you need your rest and can’t have any more visitors today. 

“Her body has been under immense stress, physically and mentally,” Dr. Sanoj explains patiently. “You can come back during tomorrow’s visiting hours and see her if she’s strong enough.”

If she’s strong enough. The words grate at Eddie, chipping away at his resolve to remain calm. Of course you’ll be strong enough; you’re the strongest person he knows. 

He and your mom wordlessly make their way out of the hospital. Maybe it’s his eyes, red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, but it brings out a sympathetic side of your mom. 

“You should get some rest, too,” she says gently. She manages a small smile. “No sense in going in there tomorrow all sleep-deprived.”

Eddie nods, mutters a, “you, too,” and hurries to his van. The last thing she needs is to have to comfort him while her own daughter’s life hangs in limbo. 

To his credit, Eddie does try to take a nap. He tosses and turns for forty-five minutes before giving up, swinging his gangly legs over the side of Gareth’s couch and walking over to where Sweetheart is regally perched on her stand. He strums a few unenthused chords, attempting to muster up some semblance of ambition. Nothing he plays seems right anymore, like every note is out of tune. If he’s honest, it’s how his life feels without you in it. 

He thinks back to the day you formally met Dustin, Robin, and Steve. The way they insisted that there was something between you two. Jeez, Harrington went as far as to call it a spark, like a budding relationship could explode at any moment. And Robin had made that joke about how sad he got when the nurses “took his Sunshine away.” Like that song Wayne always sang around the house. 

Eddie hums the tune now, trying to match the pitch and find the right chords to play. He slowly picks them up, but there’s something still…off about the way the sweet, mellow song sounds on the electric guitar. 

“Hey there, Ed.” Wayne comes through the front door, wiping his boots on the welcome mat. “Got some good news for ya.”

“Mm,” Eddie murmurs, still entrenched in his music. 

Wayne holds up a manila envelope. “You’re officially cleared of all charges related to the Cunningham girl,” he announces, a big grin spreading across his typically stoic face. “Chief Hopper was able to pin it all on the Russians; easy enough, considering what happened at Starcourt last summer.” Wayne shakes his head at the memory. “‘M tellin’ you, boy: you’re real lucky the Chief of Police is also involved in this monster hunting thing.”

With the help of his friends, Eddie explained the truth about what happened to his uncle as soon as he got home from the hospital. And while Wayne was certainly skeptical—who wouldn’t be, with a story about an evil supervillain from another dimension?—he’d believed every word. 

“That’s good,” Eddie says now, no trace of enthusiasm in his voice. 

Wayne frowns. “What’s up your ass today? You’ve been cleared of murder charges, and you don’t so much as crack a smile?”

Eddie sighs, finally looking up at his uncle. “Even if they don’t charge me for the crime, people are still gonna think I did it. That I’m some kinda Satan-worshiping cult leader, or whatever.”

Wayne sits down on the couch next to Eddie. “Let me get this straight,” he says, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m supposed to believe that the same kid who would fight to the death over a traffic ticket doesn’t care that he’s no longer wanted for murder?” 

“I fucked up, Wayne,” Eddie chokes out, brushing the tears from his eyes. “I fucked things up with Sunshine, and now there’s something really wrong with her, a-and she might not wake up, and I can’t get this stupid song to sound right with this stupid guitar!” He pulls Sweetheart over his head angrily and places her back in her stand. 

“Well,” Wayne says, dropping a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I may have only met her a few brief times, but even I could tell that she’s a fighter, that one. And just because someone’s not awake, doesn’t mean they can’t hear ya. Remember we’d sit by your mom’s side in the hospital and you’d tell her about your day? She’d wake up a few hours later and, like magic, she knew what you said to her. Pretty sure Sunshine’s got that same magic. When you go back there and visit her, tell her what’s on your heart. She’ll hear ya.” Wayne pauses and takes a deep breath. “Now about this song business…I dunno how to help you with that one. You and I both know my musical ability ends at putting records on. What song are tryin’ to learn?” 

“You Are My Sunshine,” Eddie grumbles, not taking his eyes off of his feet. Wayne can’t help but smile at that. He always knew his nephew was a softy deep down, but there weren’t too many times that he’d let anyone on the outside world see that. 

“S’a good song,” Wayne says. “And I ain’t known you to never get a song just right before. Keep fiddlin’ with it.”

Wayne pushes himself off the couch, but before he can leave the room, Eddie calls out to him. “Wayne? What, um, what should I say when I go visit her?”

His uncle shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just speak from the heart, boy. Keep it real honest and tell her how ya feel and what’s been on your mind.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says. Wayne gives him a nod and heads into the kitchen. After staring at Sweetheart for a few moments, Eddie picks her back up and starts to strum. He sit and practices for hours, occasionally massaging the back of his neck when it starts to stiffen up from staying in the same position for so long. He’s so enraptured in perfecting the song that he doesn’t even hear Wayne come back into the house.

“Ed? You still at it?”

“Unfortunately,” Eddie mutters, standing up and stretching his back with a groan. “You can come in if you want. I need a distraction before I fling myself out of the window.”

Wayne peeks his head in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Good thing we’re on the first floor then, huh?” He laughs at his nephew’s inevitable eyeroll. “C’mon out; I’ve got somethin’ to show ya.”

Curiosity getting the best of him, Eddie follows his uncle to his rusty old sedan. Laying in the backseat is an acoustic guitar. It looks a little beat up, but definitely playable.

“Where–how did you–” he starts, unable to speak because he’s so stunned by Wayne’s kind gesture.

“Ya can’t play a sweet old song like that on the electric guitar. Need one of these,” Wayne says proudly, pointing towards the instrument. “Guy at the pawnshop said she just needs a bit of a tune and she should be good to go.”

Tears spring to Eddie’s eyes, and he envelops his uncle in a tight hug. “You’re the best,” he says, voice muffled by his cheek being pressed against Wayne’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the easiest to deal–”

Wayne dismisses his concern with a wave. “Enough of that. I’m just glad to have you back here, alive. Now,” he says, the joyful glint returning to his eyes, “go learn that song so you can get the girl and leave the damn house once in a while.”

Eddie’s unable to suppress the smile that grows on his face. He’d never thought of himself as someone who would “get the girl,” but then again, he’s never felt about anyone the way he feels about you. 

Re-energized by his gift, Eddie brings the acoustic guitar inside and starts to practice again. Right away, he can tell the difference. 

“Much better,” Eddie says to himself. Wayne was right, as usual—not that he’d ever admit that to his uncle. Before, Eddie felt every second drip by as he tried and failed to make the song sound right. Now, the hours were flying by faster than Eddie even realized. Footsteps march into the living room and Eddie reluctantly looks up to see Gareth standing in the doorway.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Do you know what time it is?” Gareth asks, raising his eyebrows. Eddie shakes his head and goes back to strumming. “It’s after three in the morning. Dude, if you don’t get any sleep, she’s going to think you look like shit tomorrow.”

Gareth managed to find the one thing he could say to make Eddie put the guitar down. He didn’t have an official place to put this one, since Sweetheart was already resting in the stand. Standing up, Eddie grabs his guitar case from behind the couch. Gareth shuffles back down the hallway towards his room as Eddie flips open the latches of the case. He sets the acoustic down inside and smiles as he looks down at it. His first precious guitar has a name, and now he has the perfect idea for the next.

“Goodnight, Sunshine the Second.”

When Eddie arrives at Hawkins General Hospital the next morning, he’s not surprised to see your mom already by your bedside. He winces when he notices the tubes in your nose, another painful reminder of your weakened state.

“Any changes?” he asks softly, a pang of disappointment settling in his chest when she shakes her head no. 

“No better, but no worse,” your mother reports, running her thumb over your hand, carefully avoiding the needle in your vein. “How’re you holding up?”

“All right,” Eddie shrugs, peeling the guitar case off of his back and setting it down. “Wish she would wake up, though.”

Your mom laughs kindly. “You and me both, kid.” She takes notice of Sunshine the Second and smiles. “Did you just come from band practice?”

“Nah,” Eddie shakes his head bashfully, letting his messy curls brush his cheeks. “I, um, wanted to play her a song. If th-that’s okay.” He’s never been good with parents; they’ve always written him off as some punk or, worse, trailer trash. He anticipates disapproval, so he’s pleasantly surprised when your mom’s face brightens and she encourages him to play. 

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she excuses herself, giving his shoulder a maternal squeeze. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Hi, Sunshine,” he starts, pausing briefly to give you a chance to reply, but the silence dashes his hopes. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alive. I kept thinking about you, and this song, and I—I wanna play it for you.” He unzips the case and slings the guitar strap around his body. Tuning it quickly, he starts to sing:

You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You’ll never know dear How much I love you Please don’t take my sunshine away

He’s not sure what he was expecting; it’s not like his warbling voice would heal you. But he can’t help the disappointment that sinks into his chest like a bag of rocks in a river when you remain perfectly still. 

He strums absentmindedly, playing whatever songs he can remember off of the top of his head. His usual repertoire of Metallica and Black Sabbath don’t sound right on an acoustic, so he thinks about some of the folk-y music that Wayne listens to. 

So kiss me and smile for me Tell me that you’ll wait for me Hold me like you’ll never let me go ‘Cause I’m leavin’ On a jet plane I don’t know when I’ll be back again Oh babe, I hate to go

The mention of an airplane reminds him of the argument you two had had before he was discharged. “I know you weren’t sure about if you wanted to fly with me to California and try to make it as a dancer,” he murmurs, “but whether or not your plans include me, I really think you should.”

He sighs, continuing to play random chords as he speaks. “Feel kinda bad right now. I mean, if you were awake, you might tell me to fuck off. And I wouldn’t blame you, honestly. But you can’t tell me that, so I’m just pouring my heart out whether you care to listen or not.” He laughs softly. 

Eddie’s fingers are moving of their own accord against the strings, his mind drifting off in a thousand different directions. It isn’t until his ear catches on the familiar notes that he realizes he’s playing a new song, one he heard a lot growing up, thanks to Wayne. 

Woah, my love, my darling I've hungered for your touch A long, lonely time And time goes by so slowly And time can do so much Are you still mine? I need your love I need your love God speed your love to me

His voice catches on the last few lyrics, his throat constricting and his eyes become heavy with unshed tears. Taking a deep breath, Eddie keeps strumming the guitar because he needs something to do with his hands. He slips his eyes closed, trying to compose himself, but it doesn’t do much. When he opens them again, a few stray tears escape down his cheeks.

“Sunshine, wake up,” Eddie pleads. “I don’t like this. Sunshine, wake up.”

He switches gears, going back to the original plan for the acoustic guitar. What he practiced for hours so it would be just right for you. 

You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You’ll never know dear How much I—

Eddie is cut off by the gentle fluttering of your eyelids. His heart stalls in his chest, his breath freezes in his lungs as he stares at you. In reality, it’s about four seconds of you blinking before your eyes are fully open. To Eddie, it was an agonizingly long wait. His hands are still on the guitar, too shocked to move. You’re looking up at the white ceiling above you before blinking a few more times. Slowly, your head turns towards Eddie and when your eyes lock with his, all of the emotions that have been swirling around and building up for days now hit their breaking point. The tears surge and Eddie sets the guitar down to wipe them from his eyes. He’ll be damned if anything keeps him from looking at you, alive, awake, wonderful you, even if it’s his own damn tears. 

“Sunshine,” Eddie breathes out, a rush of breath and a sigh of relief all wrapped up in the nickname. You look slightly groggy still from all the medications, but Eddie can tell you’re looking into his eyes, which is all he needs. Gently, taking care of the needles and wires hooked into you, Eddie takes your hand. “Sunshine, can you hear me?”

Your mouth opens and you go to speak, when a look of pain flashes across your face. 

“Shh, no, no. Don’t speak. Just squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” Eddie says. 

The soft pressure of your delicate hand tightening around his is enough to bring another round of tears. These, he scrubs off with his sleeve before they can make it too far down his face. Once his vision is clear again, he looks down to see you smiling at him. He’s not sure if you’re genuinely glad to see him, or you’re still so hopped up on drugs that you would’ve been happy to see Pennywise standing over your bed. 

“M-Mom?” you whisper, and your head is filled with sandbags as it lolls to one side. 

“No, Sunshine, it’s me. It’s Eddie.”

To his horror, you start to cry. He doesn’t know how to interpret it, so he quickly stands up. “I can go get her, okay? You don’t have to be scared.” Running over to the doorway, he pokes his head out towards the waiting room, catching your mom’s eye as he waves her over. 

“She’s awake,” he tells her, watching her body visibly decompress with relief, “and she’s asking for you.”

Your mom rushes into your room, heaving sobs wracking her body as she takes in your open eyes and small, chapped smile. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs. “I’m here now.”

Eddie awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other, not wanting to intrude on such a sensitive moment but not wanting to leave. “I can come back later,” he offers, but your mom shakes her head and pats the seat next to her. The two of them sit in silence as you go in and out of sleep, waking to ask for some water before dozing off again. 

After an hour, you finally claw your way out of a groggy stupor, focusing on the two people by your bedside. “Wh-What happened?” you manage.

“Honey, you had trouble waking up from your surgery,” your mom reluctantly tells you, sharing an uneasy glance with Eddie. “Your, um, your heart stopped; they had to revive you. We didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

“We should’ve known,” Eddie chimes in, offering as much of a smile as he can. “I mean, you’re a total badass. If anyone can cheat death, it’s you.”

It takes you a moment to piece together what’s going on. The last time you saw Eddie, anger and disappointment marred his normally cheerful disposition. There was no trace of the young man who theorized about future soap opera plotlines or who fell asleep with his cheek nestled against your shoulder; there was only hurt.

The Eddie sitting before you now is different altogether. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears at the sight of you, like he wants to hold on to you and never let go.

There’s so much still left unsaid, and your head swims at the mere thought of such an intense discussion. Instead, you opt for a more obvious question: “Is that a guitar?”

“Eddie was playing some songs for you,” your mom explains, looking between the two of you. Eddie hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he’s sat down, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop any time soon. “I’m gonna grab something for him and I to eat; maybe he can play them again?”

“You don’t have to–” Eddie starts, but your mom waves him off with the promise of whatever sandwich looks the least unappetizing.

“You always sing for your mortal enemies?” you ask wryly, a hint of teasingness in your tone that you hope carries over.

“Just your run-of-the-mill sacrifice chants,” he jokes back, and you audibly sigh at the easy slide to your usual back-and-forth banter. He lowers his voice and takes your hand in his, weaving your fingers together as he says, “and you’re not my mortal enemy.”

“I’m really sorry that I lied to you,” you tell him, a misty film covering your eyes. “I just didn’t wanna disappoint you. And if you saw me sad, then you’d get sad...”

Eddie lightly presses his palm to your cheek. “Sunshine,” he says mournfully, “I never wanted you to hide your feelings from me. You’re my Sunshine because you’re you, not because I thought you were happy all the time.” He uses his free hand to rub behind his neck. “But I could’ve asked. I guess I was just so in my own head, thinking about myself, that I took you for granted. Poured my heart out to you, but never gave you the same chance,” he chides himself.

“Or I could’ve spoken up,” you point out truthfully. “I could’ve said, ‘Hey, I need a bunch of surgery and I may never dance again, and I’m really fuckin’ sad about it.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. You may never dance again. And there he was, blowing up on you because he thought you didn’t want to run away and pursue your dream; the whole time, your dream may have been yanked from your grasp.

“Can you play me one of the songs?” you interrupt his thoughts, and he just nods wordlessly as he positions the guitar on his lap.

“It’s kinda lame–”

“Just play it. Or do I have to almost die again?”

“Sheesh, all right,” he chuckles, latching his gaze to yours as he sings:

You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You’ll never know dear How much I love you Please don’t take my sunshine away

You’re giggling and crying at the same time, a sight that must seem completely absurd. You don’t want to think too long about what Eddie’s making of the way you look right now. His voice is rough and gravelly from years of metal covers at the Hideout, but it’s soothing nonetheless. But it’s the way he sings one particular part that replays in your brain over and over.

You’ll never know dear How much I love you

Maybe it’s just a song lyric. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. He just sings it, not even remotely flustered, as though his love for you is common knowledge.

“So,” he says sheepishly, “what’d you think?” When he realizes that you’re cry-laughing too hard to respond, he grins. “Oh, Sunshine. What did I do to your heart–fix it, or break it?”

“I’m not sure,” you half-joke, because if you get your hopes up that he does love you the way you want him to love you, and then he doesn’t, it might shatter into a million pieces. “That was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Eddie pauses, biting his lip nervously before he speaks again. “Can I try something?” When you nod, he cups your jaw and lets his thumb graze over your lower lip. You cringe at how dry they must feel, but he doesn’t seem to care as his mouth presses to yours. It’s a quick kiss, over too soon for your liking, but it still leaves you breathless.

He leans his forehead on yours, smiling as he caresses your cheek. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he confesses, “and it kinda scares the shit outta me.”

“Only kinda?” you tease, nudging your nose to his.

Eddie leans back in his chair, letting out a shaky chuckle and rubbing his palms on his worn-out jeans. “I want us to be honest with each other. I don’t want any more secrets. From either of us,” he clarifies, so you know he’s not only talking about you. “Starting with what really happened the night of the earthquake.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you trust that I’ll tell you the truth?” he asks, and you nod. “Okay. So, um, shit, where do I even start? I guess…well, the earthquake…it wasn’t really an earthquake.”

Your eyes widen as he plunges into a story that sounds like it could be one of his D&D campaigns. 

“It was the first time I’d ever seen anything like it,” he tells you, explaining how some monster nicknamed “Vecna” had snapped Chrissy Cunningham’s bones like twigs. How he’d hidden in his drug supplier’s boathouse—a detail you’ll have to unpack later—until Dustin Henderson tracked him down. How the whole town was convinced that he was some kind of heinous murderer, when he’d never hurt a fly. 

All of that pales in comparison to the World War III-esque scene that awaited him in the Upside Down, an alternate dimension controlled by Vecna. “Every moving part was connected to him. Like a hive mind,” he says now. An arachnid-shaped force called the Mind Flayer that could possess anyone with a painful jab of its long pedipalps. Thick vines, far more dangerous than the poison ivy that showed up in your backyard each spring. “Nancy, Steve, and Robin—they almost died from them,” Eddie says somberly, and you sit up as much as you can and rub his back. 

“Is that how you…?” 

Eddie cuts you off with a quick shake of his head. “Henderson and I were supposed to lure the demobats from Vecna’s lair. That’s all we had to do. And we did it,” he flashes a sad smile. “But all I could think about was being a hero. Saving my friends. Finally facing danger instead of running from it.”

They’d just made it back to safety before the storm of bats surrounded the trailer, busting through vents and shaking the foundation. “Henderson went back first, an’ he was calling my name. Everything in me was screaming to climb the rope, get myself back to the real Hawkins.” He’s sobbing, and you have to lean in closer just to understand what he’s trying to say. “But I cut the rope and I went back.”

“To the Upside Down?” you interrupt, blinking back tears of your own. 

Eddie nods. “Those little bat fuckers got me good. I thought I was gonna die, right there in that weird, fake Hawkins. But my friends dragged me out, got me to a hospital…and here I am,” he finishes, trying to muster up a smile. 

“Here you are.”

“Scariest shit of my life,” Eddie says with a sigh. “But it landed me in the same hospital room as this really beautiful girl, so I guess something good came from it after all.”

His compliment brings a shy smile to your face, and your mind starts to remember all the laughs and conversations the two of you had in that room. A room, you assume, Max is still in. 

“So, uh, is this all how Max went blind?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his eyes dropping down to your hand in his. He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand, taking care to avoid your IV line. “When Vecna targeted Max, she started levitating like Chrissy did. Her bones started to snap and her eyes started to bleed. When Vecna was torched, she was released. But the damage had been done. Lucas—her boyfriend, swears she died while they were waiting for an ambulance. And she was in a coma here for a little while.”

“She seems like a good friend. Loyal,” you say.

At that, a small smile curls on one side of Eddie’s face. “Yeah, Red’s a good kid.” 

“When they brought you in,” you say, lacing your fingers with his. “What did they tell the doctors was wrong with you? It’s not like they could’ve come right out and said you were attacked by multidimensional bats.”

“Steve and Henderson were arguing the whole way here about what their story should be. In the end, it didn’t matter though. The hospital was so overwhelmed by patients that they just wanted to know what my injuries were and didn’t even ask how I got them.” 

“This is all so insane,” you say with a shake of your head. Eddie’s brow pinches up and you’re quick to reassure him that you believe his story. “Eddie, what you had to go through was insane. The fact that there’s this whole other dimension existing alongside ours. Why is this shit happening in Hawkins of all places? Land of the boring doesn’t seem like the type of place that evil creatures would want to strike. At least, not according to most of the monster or disaster movies I’ve seen—and there have been a lot.”

“Before Vecna became…well, Vecna. He was just some kid who lived in Hawkins. With weird as shit powers he used to kill part of his family,” Eddie says. 

“That’s almost more morbid than the killer vines,” you say. “So, he chose to create a new dimension?”

“Not exactly. He was…banished there, more or less. By this badass little superpowered girl that all my friends know. I haven’t gotten to meet her yet, though. But she sent Creel there and he corrupted it to his liking, apparently.”

“Wait, did you say Creel?” you ask. “As in, The Creel House? Victor Creel?”

“His son, actually. Henry Creel. Henry is Vecna,” Eddie explains. 

“Jesus,” you say, leaning back against your pillows. “I know this whole thing is all pretty unbelievable…but do you know what part is bothering me the most?” 

“The fact that there are worse creatures around here than regular old spiders?” Eddie teases, getting a giggle out of you. 

“No,” you say. “Though that doesn’t thrill me either. It’s that the stupid people in this town would actually believe you’re capable of murder. And why? Because you like metal music? Because you play D&D? That’s such bullshit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile at your words. How could he ever have thought that you were like all those other assholes in this town? Well, he knows the answer to that, unfortunately. It was bound to happen over the years of bullying and abuse he endured, that now he’s just become paranoid that people are always fucking with him. Trusting people becomes a harder process, but falling for you is oh so easy. 

There’s a gentle knock on the door and your mom sticks her head in. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says, his politeness towards your mother ever more endearing now that he’s kissed you. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” your mom says as she sits down in the chair next to Eddie. She has a plastic container holding a sandwich in each hand. “I’ve got ham or turkey. Take your pick.”

“I’ll go with turkey,” Eddie says. Your mom hands him the sandwich and the two of them tuck into their food. You let your eyes roam around the room, which is smaller than the one you shared with Eddie—and then Max. Hopefully, you’ll get to move back into that room once you get a little strength back. But this room isn’t bad. It’s private, quiet, and you have a nice view out the window to your left. Dragging your eyes back across the room, they land on Eddie’s guitar laying next to his chair. 

“So, you play guitar,” you say, staring at the instrument. “Electric and acoustic, I take it?”

Eddie nods as he finishes the bite of food in his mouth. “Mostly electric. Just got this bad boy yesterday, actually. But it’s pretty much the same. You can play one, you can play the other.”

“Do you play any other instruments?” you ask. 

“Nah,” Eddie says. “I tried piano when I was younger, but the white keys…the black keys…too many to keep track of. What about you?”

“I was in band in middle school. Played the flute, but that was about it,” you say and your mom lets out a guffaw of laughter.

“I don’t know if I’d consider what you did ‘playing’ the flute, hun.” She leans in towards Eddie. “Those concerts were brutal.”

Eddie laughs and you feel your face warm up. “Thanks, Mom.”

The conversation lasts for another forty-five minutes before your Mom decides to head back home. She thanks Eddie for being there, enveloping him in a warm hug. It’s loving and maternal, and not frantic like when they were both anxiously awaiting your prognosis.

“So,” you say, peering at Eddie through your eyelashes, “is it my turn to tell you what happened to me?

He shakes his head. “Another time,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips are soft and kind, and you never want him to break contact. “I had something more fun in mind for the rest of our afternoon.”

Your cheeks flame, and you press your lips together shyly. “Um, I don’t think I can do that for a little while,” you whisper.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “No, shit, that’s not what I meant. I mean, eventually, hell yeah, but not right after you rose from the dead.” He crosses his arms over his chest and gives a dramatic pout. “D’you really think I’d try to get in your pants now?”

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe you have, like, a coma fetish.”

He wrinkles up his nose as he stares down at you. “Is that a thing? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He scoots on the edge of your hospital bed and proudly announces, “I’m taking you on a date.”

“Eddie, I can’t leave the hospital,” you say, gesturing to the litany of wires you’re hooked up to. “Not sure if they’ll even let me leave my room.”

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie says. He gives you a mischievous smile as he stands from your bed and strolls out of the room. You try to situate yourself so you’re able to see out the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever Eddie is up to. A few minutes later, he steps back inside, pushing a wheelchair in front of him. Raising his eyebrows, his eyes dart from you, down to the chair, to you again, as if saying impressive, huh?

“Whatcha got there, Eds? We going somewhere?” you ask. 

“On our date, m’lady. You’re cleared to go downstairs.”

“What’s downstairs?”

“You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?” Eddie asks as he parks the wheelchair next to your bed. “Let me ask you one. Do you like coffee?”

“I’m a college student,” you say. “I need it to live.” 

“Well, Miss College, would you accompany me to the cafeteria for a coffee date?” Eddie bows at the waist, offering one of his hands to you and the other rests against his back. “I may also buy you a cookie.”

“Spoiling me, I see. I would be more than happy to go on this date with you.” You push the blanket off your legs and move to sit on the edge of the bed. Before you go to step off the bed, a frown comes to your face.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, standing up straight again. 

“I feel a little weird about leaving my room in just my hospital gown,” you admit, face heating up. 

“Not a problem.” Eddie shucks his leather jacket off and holds it out in front of him. The smile that lights up your face is involuntary at his sweet gesture. 

You stand up and reach behind you to keep your gown closed. “No free show,” you tease him with a smirk. 

Eddie chuckles and lays the jacket over your shoulders. “I mean, I am paying for your coffee…” He lets out a yelp as you playfully swat at him with your free hand. He helps you get seated in the chair and once you’re comfortable, you slip your arms into the sleeves. The scent of Eddie surrounds you as you're enveloped in his jacket. It feels soft against your skin and you just want to snuggle up in it.

He unlocks the wheelchair brakes and gently begins pushing you out the door, carefully navigating the frame so he doesn’t bump you. “Never thought I’d see the day that I was a responsible driver,” he quips, and you giggle. “Now, how do we get to the cafeteria?”

You crane your neck to look up at him. “How am I supposed to know? I didn’t exactly ask for a tour when they carried me in on a stretcher.”

“Ooh, feisty,” Eddie teases, continuing down the hallway until he finds a map of the hospital. His eyes scan the figure until they land on his destination. “Aha! Looks like we have to turn right at the end of this hall, then take the elevator down to the first floor, and it’ll be on the left.”

“Onwards!” you command, and Eddie gives a little salute as he brings you to the elevator.

You reach the cafeteria, and he wheels you over to a table. “How do you take your coffee?” When you give him your order, he repeats it over and over again.

“If you forget, just call out and ask me,” you reassure him, but he shakes his head.

“Wayne told me once that you should always know how your girl takes her coffee,” he explains. “‘S like one of the Ten Commandments or something.”

A grin spreads across your face. “Your girl?”

“Y-Yeah, if you want?” he stammers, shoving his hands in his back pockets and rocking back and forth. 

You crook your finger, beckoning him down to your level, and you kiss him passionately. He relaxes into you, deepening it and parting your lips with his own. “Yeah, I want,” you say softly, twirling a strand of his hair around your forefinger.

As he walks towards the carafes of lukewarm coffee, you admire him. Your boyfriend. He claims that revealing what happened to you won’t make him like you any less, but you have a niggling feeling that it might. He only knows you as Sunshine, and the one time you showed any emotion other than optimism, he left without a word. What if he decides that it’s too much? That you’re too much?

Maybe he’s better off without you and your baggage dragging him down. As if he can sense you getting in your own head, Eddie slides your coffee in front of you and plops down in the seat next to yours.

“My girlfriend gets the cutest little crease right between her eyebrows when she’s thinking too hard,” Eddie says. 

“Sorry,” you say with a sheepish smile. You take a sip of your coffee and let out a hum of approval. “Perfect.”

“No overthinking on our first date. Wait for the third or fourth for that.”

“Sounds fair,” you acquiesce. 

Eddie looks at you before taking a sip of his own coffee. “You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right? I don’t run away. Not anymore.” He reaches out and strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

You swallow your nerves, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Okay,” you agree slowly. “Okay. I’ll tell you.”

--

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[thesweetnessofspring]

Post-Mockingjay, Everlark family and Haymitch. Rated T.

"Haymitch!" a little voice cries out as his door bangs open against the wall, startling him awake. He gasps in the middle of a snore and grunts in annoyance at his interrupted nap.

Haymitch can't say he's ever really cared for little kids. Always whining, running around loose, needing help with the simplest tasks, sharing facts anyone over twelve knew as if you didn't know it already, and crying. So much crying.

Katniss and Peeta's kids, well, they weren't much better. The girl loved talking about ordinary information as if she were teaching you about it and the boy whimpered and whined at the smallest discomfort. Plus, the two of them coming into the picture meant he had to be more careful about his drinking, for such occasions as this when their family made an unexpected visit.

"I thought you were going to the lake today," Haymitch says as the girl runs ahead of the other three into the living room where Haymitch had been enjoying his afternoon tilted back in a recliner.

Katniss and Peeta follow behind the girl, Peeta carrying the boy sleeping against his chest, the boy's slobbery little mouth open and chubby cheek pink. Lucky bastard was getting to finish his afternoon nap. Still, a sleeping kid meant a quiet kid.

"We just got back," Peeta says, and Haymitch notes the still-drying hair on the girls, the flushed look of the sun on all of their faces.

"Had to leave early because the teenagers showed up and they were going to have your kind of party," Katniss says, frowning with disgust.

It had become a sore spot for Katniss over the years that teens had made "her" lake into the drinking place. But of course she'd never call the Peacekeepers on kids getting a little drunk. She just liked to complain about it.

"I have something for you!" the girl says excitedly and flutters her legs over to the recliner. She digs a hand into her pocket at says, "I found you glass!"

Glass? No way would Katniss or Peeta ever let their daughter have glass in her pocket. When the girl opens up her fingers, three smooth, cloudy white stones rest in her palm.

"It doesn't cut," the girl says eagerly. "At the lake, after a long, long time, the water makes the glass safe! See?"

Haymitch reaches out for her to spill the smooth glass into his waiting palm. They plink against each other, muted in comparison to the clear bottles of white liquor that he'd spent the last forty years clinking together.

"Very nice," Haymitch says. "Thank you, sweetheart."

The girl beams up at him and bounces on her toes. And Haymitch would never admit this to anyone, certainly not Katniss and Peeta themselves, because while their know-it-all daughter and crying son had every annoying trait little kids could possibly have...like their parents, he was really glad they'd come around.

[kinardsevan]

several sentence sunday

no one tagged me. i just need y'all to know that this scene exists in the next chapter of the aneurysm fic (which i'm basically writing in my free time, which i currently have very little of)

-

“I need to take a walk,” Tommy states, shaking his hands out at his sides after tossing his first empty coffee cup into the trash. He walks over to where the coffee Maddie brought him is still sitting and picks it up, is halfway to the exit of the waiting room when he hears it. 

“You’re going to leave while he’s in surgery?” 

Tommy closes his eyes and has to remind himself to breathe as his shoulders stiffen. He swallows down a gulp after another deep breath, and then turns around, forcing a smile on his face. 

“I’m going for a walk,” he replies. “Because waiting on finding out if my fiancé’s heart is going to hold on through a second surgery to correct a work-related incident is horrifying.” 

He watches as Phillip looks toward Maddie, Maddie puts a hand up toward her father and mutters his name softly, a warning to not push it. Whether that connects for the older man though doesn't seem to be clear, because Phillip has a response anyway. 

“I just think he should be here,” he says back in the same soft tone. Tommy furrows his brow, eyes squinting with irritation at the other man. 

“I have been here,” he replies. His voice is soft, almost disturbingly calm. “Every single one of the past 33 days. I’ve dealt with the anxiety, the nightmares, the vomiting, the naps on the floor because his heart couldn’t beat properly and he ran out of energy to move. Fuck, I spent the last three days before they actually did the first surgery making sure he was at least getting water down because he was so uncomfortable every time he ate that it just kept coming back up. 

“And then, I got to be here for the first surgery, which was six hours long, and he didn’t sleep the night before because he was scared. Which, by the way, meant I didn't either. I was awake for almost forty hours while you were at home, blind to it all. And then I saw him struggle just to stand again. I watched every single time they turned down the pacemaker and he had arrhythmias, and the pain it caused him. And where were you? Oh, right. Doing what I’ve known you to do best since the day I was introduced to your family—staying silent.” 

“Tommy-..” Maddie tries to cut in, and he looks over at her. 

“Please understand that I don't include you or your husband in that context,” he states, letting out a long huff. “I’m going to go outside for ten minutes. Call me if they come out.” 

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best-..” 

“You haven’t been anything!” Tommy growls at him, still trying to keep his tone soft and not draw attention. “I don't know you. I’m marrying the child you decided to bring into this world, and I don’t know three things about you. What I do know, is that I've picked up the pieces you’ve left strewn about and glued them back together. You want to act as though you’re doing some sanctimonious deed by sitting here for however long the surgery takes, and then giving him ten minutes of your time when he’s conscious before you leave again? By all fucking means, do so. It would be more than you’ve managed to do in the past two years.” 

[pennyserenade]

ONLY BACKWARDS

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), pinv, references to unprotected sex, hate sex, light dirty talk (not degrading) tags: angst, age gap (reader is 34 and bravo is 48), hurt/comfort  word count: 2.8k+ summary: it has been 6 months since you last heard from dieter bravo. this time he comes back to you with a black eye and he asks for too much. it is just like always.  a/n: i wrote this in about a day so if its a little funky, that’s probably why. unbeta’d. songs i recommend you listen to while you read (if that’s something you enjoy): american dream by lcd soundsystem, sculptures of anything goes by arctic monkeys, californication by red hot chili peppers, and conversation 16 by the national 

Fourteen years and two days. Depending on the way you look at it, that’s either a long time or too little of it. 

As you take a good look at the man who you share this age gap with, you aren’t sure where you fall on the spectrum. 

Dieter looks like shit. Beneath his right eye is purplish yellow, no doubt the reward he got for committing one of his heavily repeated mistakes. His eyes are reddish, bloodshot and he looks like he made some attempt at looking nice a day or two ago, but what he’s left with is stubble on his cheeks and hair gone greasy from too much product. You used to want to nurse him in these states, to hold his head between your hands and speak to him tenderly. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own age for once?” you say to him, pushing your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose. Your voice doesn’t possess the vitriol a sentence like that needs to really land. He squints against the sun, waiting. Your fingers press into the steering wheel. Be good, do good, you tell yourself. You can’t pick up a grown man’s baggage for the rest of your life. You don’t want to. 

He doesn’t attempt to charm you. “I just want to take a shower and a nap and then I’ll never bother you again.”

“Why can’t you do that at your own house?”

Dieter pouts out his lips, looking above the hood of the car. In the other corner of the studio lot, there are people making a ruckus, laughing, talking too loudly. He looks back at you, brown eyes devoid of any real emotion. “I don’t like my own home.”

You think of all you’ve got to do. A script to write, a meeting in the morning, a date at 9. You really think you could like the guy too—a salaried television writer who lives in a sizable house and graduated from somewhere like Princeton. Your friend who set you up says he’s the perfect match for you: handsome, sweet, smart. Reliable. 

“One shower and a hour nap, Bravo, and then you’re out.” He nods his head gratefully. “I mean it,” you say, voice serious. “No silly business this time. I’m doing this because I’m feeling charitable today.”

He makes his way to the passenger side and you take the time to glance down at the car clock. It’s two o’clock.A familiar pang of regret hits you. Seven hours seems like an eternity to you now. 

You decide it then: fourteen years is too much, even if you are thirty-four and he is forty-eight. It matters to you today, because you know if you don’t let it, you will be picking up his baggage forever. It is an entire ocean separating the both of you today, because it has to be. 

———

Dieter’s hair is still soaking wet, the towel you set out for him abandoned at the head of your bed. It hasn’t even touched him, didn’t get the chance before he settled between your legs. As he presses his warm tongue to your cunt, cold droplets fall from his head onto your thighs. You are keenly aware of the way they make their slow descent down, onto your freshly washed bed spread. 

You don't know why you let these things happen. It’s as if something takes hold of you when he’s around, makes you foolish.

The worst part is that you know it’s your fault. For once in his goddamn life, Dieter was being good. He didn’t make any passes, didn’t even say much aside from a few pleasant “Thank you”s. You couldn’t stand it, which makes you on par with him, foolish and reckless and self absorbed—and oh God, his tongue feels good. 

Your legs are draped over his shoulders and his fingers grip into your hips, pinning them down before they even get the chance to lift. Because he knows they will, knows because he’s made them do that before, many times. As he parts you with his tongue, lapping up your juices and making more of them, you watch him. His long nose barely grazes your sensitive clit and you moan openly siri want—too giving for so little effort. 

Dieter works with patience. You will give him this: he is a good pussy eater. He licks you open and leaves you wanting, pressing into every part of you except the parts you desperately need him to. He works you for so long, his warm tongue pressing hard against your lips, the place above your entrance, the place just below your clit. You are so sensitive beneath him that you feel like you might explode from the anticipation. You feel everything: the coldness of his wet hair as it presses against your thighs, your lower stomach, where he’s moved one of his hands, the fabric of the bra on top of your pebbled nipples. 

Dieter knows how to overwhelm you so well that it’s the center of most of your fantasies when you’re alone. You’d never tell him that, God forbid the ego it’d give him, but you relish the fact now. You’ve touched yourself so many times thinking about his tongue, the way it drinks you up and splits you apart, and here is he, doing it better than you remember. It’s like hearing a favorite song live after only listening to it on a scratched, over-loved vinyl for too long: exactly how intended, and better than it should be. Your toes curl and he doesn’t even come close to what aches the most.

You’re not going to make your date. It’s the fate he writes out with his precise tongue. He watches you as he spears the tip of it inside of you and he draws out the show he wants: that open mouthed, silent moaning that comes from feeling too much pleasure all at once. It’s the type that makes you tip your head back, flooded with a pulsing desire that causes your knees to try to draw together. He does it again and again, swirling around inside of one. You clench around nothing when he abandons it to run his tongue through your lips again, with no real destination. 

“Don’t make me beg,” you whine, voice low, tugging at his hair. Water drips out into your hands but you don’t care. He listens, attaching his mouth to your sensitive clit and he presses his tongue down, making you struggle, trying to lift the hips he’s got pinned. He takes it into his mouth, sucking at the tender flesh. You feel split open all the sudden, not vulnerable - not really - but laid out just for him, your body craving only what he can give. It is an embarrassing amount of desire that covers the entirety of you, and yet you aren’t embarrassed by it at all. 

For a moment, it is better than all the love in the world, which is exactly why you end up like this. You know that. You shouldn’t lie to yourself about it. That one second where he is enough - more than enough - can sustain you until the next time he will inevitably fail you. 

He draws the orgasm out of you quickly this way. The heels of your feet dig into his back, unable to stop the way you grow stiff with ecstasy of it coursing through you. He doesn’t stop when it hits, his tongue lapping up all your juices until you’re tugging at his hair, almost raw with oversensitivity. 

His lips glisten with your slick. You urge him forward, tugging at his forearm, letting him kiss you on the mouth before he has the chance to wipe you off of himself. He likes that, you know. You’re so blissed out for a moment, you forget the seas that part the two of you. Suddenly he is not Dieter Bravo, the man you have to rescue every six months, but Dieter, the one who knows you better than you do yourself sometimes. 

As his eager tongue meets yours, you allow him to position his hips between your legs, opening them up wide to fit his body. 

His weeping cock presses against you as he kisses you, hard and desperate to be touched. As his fingers gently skim over your jaw, down your neck, you think about how easy it would be for him to slip inside of you. How in one fluid motion, he and you could be so close, the thickness of him satisfying a greedy desire you have to take all of him. Fucking him all of the sudden seems like the very simplest solution to all your problems. It’s a primal thing that he inspires in you. His soft tongue drew out desires hidden in you and now that they’re out, you can’t put them back. 

You wrap your legs around him, pressing him closer. You want him to flirt with the idea in the same way you do, to crave it so badly he stutters asking for it. He freezes against your lips, overcome with the way you press against one another. Everything, everywhere, is warm. Tense. Taut. 

He kisses down your neck but is careful not to move his body, perceptive of the fact he is pressed to your cunt and with one accidental motion, will rub against it. He is wanting, sensitive. You want him to beg. 

“You’re so good, Dieter,” you tell him, hands intertwining in his drying overgrown locks. “I’ve missed this. Missed you,” you add, your breath against his ear. 

He pants against your neck, unwillingly pressing himself into you, rubbing slightly. He stops kissing you, focuses fully on not doing what he shouldn’t. He is being good, telling you to take the parts of him you want, saying sorry in the only way he really knows how: by clumsily handing himself over to you. 

You lift your hips into his, forgoing your need to hear him beg. His eagerness is akin to soft pleas. It is enough just to be wanted, and you know he does: he can hardly contain himself, pressing down when you finally press up. You wet his cock this way, letting him rub up and down, up and down, gathering you up and relishing what warmth of you you’ll give him as the mattress groans beneath you. 

“I could cum like this,” he pants, bringing his lips back to yours. He kisses you hard, enough to make your lips swollen, red. 

You shake your head. “Don’t cum,” you tell him, panicked. You stop moving and he stops too, eyebrows knitting together. “Fuck me, Dieter. I need you to fuck me.”

There is a vulnerability in his gaze as he takes those words in. You are pinned between his arms, beneath his solid body, surrounded entirely by him, and yet it is this look that makes you feel the closest to him. You share a feeling, not an agreement but an understanding: this is it. It is everything you are to each other, and perhaps all you ever will be. 

You hate him for that. You need him to tear you up, split you in half, make you feel the residuals of his affection through the quick snap of his hips and guttural moans you will feel in your bones. You don’t want understanding. 

Because you are angry or perhaps because you’ve gotten a little wiser since you last saw him, you tell him, “Condom,” evenly. It’s a barrier, some precaution you don’t usually make him take. He had told you once that he had never fucked anyone without one, that in all of his recklessness, he had never failed to do that. So of course you gave it to him, let yourself be his first. Now you’re taking it away. 

The purplish yellow of his under eye reassures you that this is right. He didn’t get that being good, being kind. Probably, he fucked someone’s wife, someone’s husband. He hadn’t called you for two months before today. He isn’t kind. Not always. The bruise is the violence he tears through life with. A marking of his wreckage. 

Dieter doesn’t protest about the condom, but you can tell he is wounded. He moves almost dutifully as he opens your bedside table and takes one out. 

You don’t watch him put it on. You look up at the dark of your ceiling, your heart in your stomach. 

“Okay,” he says with finality, wrapping a hand around your ankle. Your eyes soften as you look at him; he is blotted with desire, patchy with remorse. When his dark eyes gaze upon you with open tenderness, you feel your anger dissipate. 

When you open your legs wider for him, he crawls back on the bed, nestles between your thighs. His hands slide beneath you, groping your ass, lifting you to himself. When your bodies connect, his cock sliding into you, you feel all of it. The thickness of his head, the shake of his body as he eases in slowly, the way he settles in you as he bottoms out, trying not to lose control. It is tender, soft. It curls up in your chest and softens a resolve you need to survive on scraps. You don’t want it. 

You dig crescent-shaped moons in his ass, urge his hips forward as they begin to find a rhythm that is quick, angry. Your lips find each other clumsily, teeth clacking against teeth like inexperienced  teenagers. When you move your head away, he kisses the side of your mouth by accident, and then stops trying altogether, burying himself in your neck. He’s never faulted you for not wanting his affection and won’t now. Calloused fingers continue to grip at your ass, pushing you up to meet his hips; it is hip to hip, his cock pushing into the deepest part of yourself, filling you to the hilt with a shared frustration. 

You moan his name, a quick succession of Dieter, Dieter, Dieter, and he grunts helplessly, his body no longer his own, overtaken by desire and anger and disappointment. You are angry with yourself, angry you told him to put on the condom. You want him to fill you with it now—want the sticky substance of his desire to run down your legs and outlast the bitterness. 

He eases you into the mattress, fucks into you with the slow, lazy roll of his hips again. His hands slip away from your ass, travel up to your hands. He interwines your fingers together, pins them above your head. 

You whine, ache. “Harder,” you urge, your hips rising to make up for the lack of speed. You expected him to speed back up once he repositioned and the idea that he won’t fills you with dread. Fuck me, you echo again, hoping he understands. 

He pushes into you, more focused, like that is what you mean when you say harder: more focused. It isn’t. You mean harder. You paw at his hips, shake your head. “Dieter,” you plead. 

He draws back, snaps his hips into you. You gasp. Yes. You whisper it against his hot skin, and he does it again and again and again. Does it even when you sputter, voice straining, hips rising, rubbing against the patch of his body that meets your clit. He fucks you as you cum around his cock, lets your sensitive body feel the fury with which he takes you. With which you asked him to. 

He continues this pace even after he fills the condom, lingers over this spot in time and allows your cunt to suck him dry, to take pieces of him until he is gripping tightly to your hands and overdone with pleasure. He exits you quick, draws back like he’s going to snap forth but doesn’t. You miss the feel of him immediately and you understand the craving you’ve got has to do with far more than sex. 

Your eyes roll back, look at the clock on your nightstand. 3:30. You have time, but you won’t take it. 

Dieter discards the condom in the bathroom and comes back out wearing his underwear and a t-shirt. He offers you a towel and you take it, wiping your connection away. 

He helps you put your underwear back on and you let him climb back into your bed, lay yourself on top of him. He rubs your back as you listen to his heart thud in his chest. 

“Dieter?” you say, voice quiet. 

“Hm?”

“What happened to your eye?”

When he doesn’t respond, you tilt your head up. His eyes are closed but he’s not pretending to sleep. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs, not opening them. 

“It’ll make me mad to know?”

He nods, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Why can’t you just be good?” Your voice is so quiet - timid - nearly inaudible. But he hears it, winces. 

“I don’t know,” he tells you honestly. You’ve touched upon an open wound; he shifts beneath you, moving you to his side. But he still wraps himself around you, holds you close. “Let’s sleep.”

“Are you going to be here when I wake up?” 

He holds your head to his chest. “If you want me to be.” 

“Please,” you manage, before closing your eyes.