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katsheadinclouds · 2 months

Text

Like a sun, shining late at night

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie works in a coffee shop where you have been coming for the last few months. The crush from the first time he ever saw you is bubbling over on the hottest day of the summer.

warnings: Frankie and reader are in their twenties, small town vibes, pining, fluff, kissing, no use of y/n, reader has no pronouns and wears a dress, the picture in the header is just for the visual and isn't an indication of the reader's skin color. Not beta read.

word count: 9.3k

notes: Happy Frankie Friday! I wrote this for @secretelephanttattoo 's secret springs creative challenge and it's purely self indulgent. I'm graduating from university next month and the idea for this fic came from that. This also falls more in to the first week's theme, but I didn't have time to finish this until now. I hope you'll enjoy!

Dividers by saradika

”Frankie, can we switch, I need a break,” his coworker whines in a hushed tone, leaning against the wall. She has the gift of puppy dog eyes that she has perfected over time and uses only when absolutely necessary. No one can say no to her.

Frankie dries his hands on a too wet hand towel; the break doesn’t come a moment too late. He just finished cleaning the cabinets in the kitchen that’s more like a shoebox than an actual kitchen.

Their boss was right. Times like these, when waves of customers aren’t pushing in through the door, is the perfect time to clean. The narrow space of the shoebox-kitchen in a heatwave is an experience Frankie wouldn’t mind skipping though.

His skin is sticky and little droplets of sweat have formed into big splotches of wet fabric on his t-shirt, stretched across his shoulders and upper back. The electric fan in the cramped corner is barely functioning and begs to be replaced in a weather like this.

“The kitchen is all yours,” Frankie gives the damp rag to the younger coworker and sees her eyes light up when he relieves her from the front of the coffee shop. She might handle the humidity a bit better, at least she has enthusiasm to immediately push the damp cloth against the fridge door and find something to furiously scratch off.

Only a couple of tables are taken under the exhausted ceiling fan circling warm air in the cozy café. More people are sitting outside by small round tables under pastel striped umbrellas.

The pink lemonade they make daily from the boss’ recipe is sweating with ice in most customer’s cups, easing the effects of a seemingly endless spell of sweltering heat. The town center has fallen quieter as people are either enjoying their summer holidays by travelling or spending their time at the beach not too far away.

Frankie can’t blame them. Anyone would escape the temperatures in this weather. The ones who are brave enough to stand the scorch from the concrete and minimal shade from any dry trees lining the streets have made their way to cafes with cold drinks and ice creams. The amount of different fresh baked goods, bread and pastries, that are delivered daily have been cut in half just because people are more interested in something light and cold.

The sounds from the street flow into the coffee shop in waves through the open windows and door. Frankie says pleasantries to the few people who come and go and leave their tables for him to empty. He does a few turns outside to bring a straw for a child who dropped his to the ground and to wipe the artisan gelato off the table when someone accidentally knocked over their bowl.

There’s easy music playing from the speakers. They lull him into staring outside, at the people in their airy clothes and sun on their skins. There’s nothing else for him to do other than wait for someone to come in or leave.

The sweat that pushed through earlier sits against his temples and back like a second skin. It’s not going to dry until the sun has set and the night sweeps through the town with cooler air. He listens to the laughter from people sitting outside and the screech of seagulls somewhere nearby.

Some kids skateboard past the café, a few on rollerblades. Few cars drive towards the coast at a crawling pace, pumping out music that shakes the glasses on the shelves lining the walls, turning people’s heads, while some nod to the beat.

This morning, when Frankie got out of the shower with his hair still dripping wet and his skin too stubborn to dry even after toweling, he looked at a t-shirt hanging on the back of a chair. It’s still newly crisp and in need of a few washes. The neckline isn’t worn and stretched from overuse yet, like his usual clothes he wears to work. He has his t-shirts and jeans, and sometimes a cap that his boss always reminds him to take off.

That isn’t the case anymore. He pulled the new t-shirt over his head and decided today would be the day. If you were to come by the coffee shop, that is.

He leans against the counter, doodling on a piece of old receipt; another order of pink lemonade and a sundae. The customer is enjoying them under the shade of one of the pastel umbrellas while reading a book.

Frankie’s curls are enjoying the heat and humidity, the salty air blowing in from the coast making him look like he shouldn’t be standing behind a register in a coffee shop but at the beach by a lifeguard station overlooking the waves. They fluff every time the ceiling fan manages to flutter the air with something that resembles a cooler breeze. A strand tickles his temple, immediately remembering your fingers against his forehead. It was just a simple touch.

“There’s a dandelion seed…” you mumbled last week, when you reached for him over the counter. He was making your drink, focused on pouring the milk into the mug, when like you would’ve done it a hundred times before, your fingers caught the fluff and stayed against his temple a second longer.

“All gone,” you said and continued your story about painting a wall in your childhood home deep green, like nothing had happened.

Frankie drops the pen against the stone counter and touches his fingers against the spot where yours had been. His heart gives a thump and another, the thought of you like cotton candy in his mind.

Everything changed when you walked into the coffee shop with a canvas bag flung over your shoulder.

It was the end of March. The day was grey and windy and people were looking for comfort inside the warmth of the café. It looked like it would rain at any moment, the air even smelled like it. The first time this spring.

You unraveled a thick scarf from around your neck and stopped by the door to take in the café. You took note of the few empty seats and tables, most taken by people working or by those who were on their lunch breaks.

Frankie could only stare at you, with his head going blank, until you took a step forward and you smiled at him. A joyful, eye crinkling smile that comes out easily and stays on your cheeks for a long time.

There was something else to it as well. It wasn’t just the smile that left him dumbfounded. It was the way you lit up from inside first, your skin glowing, your eyes sparkling even on the grayest of days like you held stars in your soul. It was enigmatic, electric, magnetic. Frankie immediately wished to experience it again.

You made your way to the counter and asked Frankie what he’d recommend for lunch.

“You new here?” He asked when he had written down your order and given it to someone working in the kitchen that day. He got to making your drink, a mocha that you gracefully asked to be made with more milk and sugar.

“Oh no, I’m from here but I moved away for college. I don’t get to visit as often anymore as I’d like. But now my last couple of courses are online and I could come back home to finish my thesis.” You took a deep breath and laughed out of nowhere. “That must’ve been exciting for you to hear.”

Your brow arched with the edge of your mouth. He could’ve listened to you read the ten different tea options they had and then he would’ve asked you to repeat them. He would’ve still been hungry to hear your voice more.

“It’s okay,” he said and turned awkwardly from you to steam the milk to hide the blush that crept up to his cheeks. The heat of it burst in waves that showed up across his skin in red splotches.

The milk got done too fast. He thought of anything cold, anything mundane, that would make his blood stream calm down. Just another customer, just another damn customer, he repeated to himself.

He poured the milk gently on top of the chocolate syrup and espresso, folding the foam in on itself to make a pattern on top of the drink. He had made it hundreds of times before, a skill he was proud of, yet now his hand was trembling, and the lines got muddled.

The mug barely made a noise when he set it on the counter, even though his attention was on you eyeing the fat cookies on top of the display cases. You read each label of the options carefully; chocolate chip, white chocolate and cranberry, macadamia and walnut, raisin, triple chocolate, salted caramel, cinnamon and brown sugar, –

“I’ll take one of those lemon and blueberry cookies as well, please.” Your smile got softer when you turned back to him.

“I hope you enjoy it,” he could only say, unsure if he meant the café or the lunch you were about to eat. The cookie looked massive on the small plate he placed next to the coffee mug, reaching high with blue swirls. He was mesmerized by the spark in your eyes and the unsaid mischief in your voice.

You stood in front of him, quiet. Your brows rose slowly and the longer the silence stretched, the more you looked confused.

“Should I wait for the sandwich and pay after or…?” You finally asked and it got Frankie to shake back into action.

“Fu –,” he caught himself just in time to not swear in front of you, even though it made that beautiful smile spill onto your lips again, this time accompanied with a light giggle. His wish came true. Your laugh was just a tip he didn’t expect to get, much more valuable than money in that moment.

“You can pay now, I’ll bring the sandwich to you,” his mouth barely kept up with the words and the moment was over so fast that he wasn’t sure what he had actually told you. But you dug out your wallet and your card and he was tapping on the register to get the right amount charged which he checked twice before you paid.

You accompanied your generous tip with a soft thank you before you collected your drink and cookie off the counter. There was another customer behind you already, forcing Frankie to focus. From the corner of his eye, he saw you sitting by the windows, peeling your coat off and hanging it on the back of your chair.

You sat down and for a fleeting moment he could’ve sworn that you were watching him, still with that smile on your face. When he was done with the customer who came after you, you were already typing on your laptop.

You stayed for hours. So long in fact that Frankie’s shift ended, and other people came in for their evening shifts. You ate your lunch, got another coffee and the same cookie after a few hours, and then kept on sipping on the drink even when it had gone cold long ago.

Your brows were pulled together and at times you leaned closer to read something on the screen of your laptop. You wrote fast. Your fingers flew against the keyboard and at times you stopped just to keep your fingertips hovered over the letters before you kept on going. The sound got drowned out in the steady ambient chatter of the café.

You had a notebook next to you where you wrote a few words here and there. When the café was fairly quiet, he could hear you clicking your pen a few times, then tap it against the half-filled page. A soft, muffled rhythm against the paper.

You rolled your shoulders back and bent your neck from side to side. Every once in a while, you looked out the window, at the darkening day, and the first drops of rain against the glass.

After that day you became a regular at the coffee shop. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday Frankie could expect you to come by. Sometimes you came in early and spent the whole day there. Some other days you came in later and left early, but every time you had lunch and then typed away on your laptop.

Some days you looked more tired than some other days, and some other times your smile was a little dimmer than the others. It still fell on your face easily, but it wasn’t as wide or as energized as he had seen on you usually.

When the days were getting warmer and the sun stayed hung on the sky a little longer, you didn’t come to the coffee shop for two weeks. Frankie was doing his shift, waiting to see you that Tuesday like he normally would. To hear you tell him about your weekend, to hear your voice at all.

His shift ended and you didn’t show up. It left him empty, like something was missing. You had become such a constant at the café that when you broke the pattern, the day seemed off. Maybe you were sick, down with a cold that everyone seemed to have as winter shook from the trees and sunshine forced leaves to bud on the branches.

Then you didn’t come by the next day either. With his coworker Frankie tended to the constant stream of customers who came and went steadily in and out the door. When there was a break, he could only watch the cookies that managed to stay crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. There weren’t many left anymore and your chances at choosing one were getting slimmer every time the door opened, and it wasn’t you who walked in. You didn’t.

When the weekend rolled around, there was a hollowness in Frankie’s chest. He was missing you, as terrifying as that was to admit to himself. He missed seeing you sit at one of the tables by the window where you could watch people as an escape from your work. He had never asked what your thesis was about, how it was going or what made you choose the topic. In that moment he regretted it.

Frankie missed the way you paid attention to what was happening around you. You listened to others, and you started to say hi to some of the other regular customers. Until he noticed you weren’t only paying attention to them but also him.

Sometimes he caught you staring, watching him do his job, follow his moves as he made drinks for customers, wrote down orders and listened to answers for his polite questions about how their day was going. In the beginning, you hastily turned from him in an attempt to not get caught even though he always already had.

He could see you smile when he entertained a toddler by making faces at her while her parents were choosing what to eat. Your brow furrowed and you shook your head when he listened to an older lady shamelessly hit on him.

And then one day you didn’t turn from him when he caught you staring. You stopped hiding your interest in what he was doing. Your cheeks caught the smile on your face and then you got back to your own work.

All those looks, all those smiles, made him want to say he was done for the day and come sit and people watch with you even if you wouldn’t have watched other people, only him.

The next Friday, after another whole week of not seeing you, Frankie didn’t have high hopes for you to show up that day either. It was possible that you had grown tired of the place, of the same sandwich you took every time, the mocha that you usually ordered twice, or the one or two cookies that you always got after careful consideration. Or maybe you were finished with your thesis. Maybe you had left the town again and he was wasting his days daydreaming about you.

The line was long, and the kitchen was overflowing with orders. Frankie had just finished typing one more and had it register in the kitchen when he lifted his gaze to find you standing in front of him.

You didn’t look like yourself. You held your canvas bag in a death grip on your shoulder and you were inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, steadying your breath as best you could. You avoided looking at him and you hid under your clothes.

Your voice was sunken and without your usual animation, the fall and rise of your tone was gone. You didn’t make conversation. You didn’t ask how Frankie’s day had been or if anything unexpected had happened, like you normally did.

“I’ve just had a bit of a hard time lately,” you dropped the façade completely without actually saying anything. You only had to see Frankie’s face once to read the worry from the furrowed brow and the seriousness in his eyes.

His mouth was in a tight line, and he tried to understand you without asking you a serious question. He never had; he didn’t think it was his place even after weeks of friendly banter.

As he was preparing your order, your distress crawled under his skin as well. You opened the light jacket you wore over your sweatshirt, you flinched from the hiss of the espresso machine, and you stood there making yourself as small as you could.

In that moment he decided to get to know you better, to do something about the thump in his chest when you opened the door to the café and to the shivers that ran up and down his back when you stood close enough and he could smell your perfume.

So far, Frankie was harboring a crush across the café, a stolen glance here and a playful look there, an attempted flirty tone in his voice on questions that were too basic to incite any interest or a spark in the corner of his eye. You had captured him without you knowing it, and without him knowing what to do with the swell of happiness every time you were around.

You tried so hard to seem like yourself, but you were on autopilot. You ordered your usual coffee and sandwich. You stared at the foamy milk on top of your mocha. He put too much effort into his attempt at making the leafy shape perfect, only to mess it up and then mess it up even more when he wanted to fix it.

You didn’t say a word about it like you would have if it was like any other normal day. He noticed the short-bitten nails and cuticles on your hand when you paid for your order.

“I’ll bring it to the table,” Frankie told you, watched you nod once and drag your feet against the floor to your usual table. You sat there, staring out the window, your head tilted, and your mind elsewhere. Frankie took heavier steps than usual to alert you, but placing the sandwich in front of you still spooked you out of your head. You tucked your hands between your thighs and let the last bit of steam evaporate from your coffee and the grilled sandwich sit untouched until the fillings looked sad and undesirable.

There was finally a break in the flow of customers. Frankie’s head was buzzing, and his feet were tired. The breather couldn’t have come any later. Yet he didn’t take his break. Instead, he was drawn to observe you like you were a magnet to him. Whatever he was doing, he always made note of you. Something was missing.

“Could I get one of those big cookies?” A customer asked and it clicked instantly in what else was off.

“I didn’t order this,” you told him when he placed the thick chocolate chip cookie next to your laptop that you had managed to get out of your bag. He saw the screen; a text editor open with a margin full of notes and different parts of the text highlighted with red.

“it’s on the house,” he gave you a soft smile, hoping it would ease at least some of the anxiety that had made you look ill while reading through the document on your laptop. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see you burst into tears at any moment.

You thanked him without any sound actually leaving your throat before you got back to reading. He was bothered by the state of you. It made him turn on his heels and take those two steps back that he had put between the two of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He didn’t stop himself to consider before he asked the question, but it got you interested. You looked at him straight in the eyes for the first time the whole day and waited for him to continue.

“Why haven’t you ordered the chocolate chip cookie before?” The cakey cookie draws both of your attention to it and the question takes you by surprise.

“Because I knew I’d like it the most and wanted to save it for something special.” You picked it up and cracked a piece from it. Even Frankie could smell the buttery richness laced with the caramelly sweetness from the brown sugar the baker had once told she uses.

The chocolate was in big chunks, some broken, some sticking out from the piece between your fingers. Instead of taking a bite, like Frankie thought you would, you set the piece down on the small white plate and fixed your attention on him.

“I didn’t know you had noticed, or kept book of what I ordered.” The words came out like a question, but there was nothing for you to ask. You just stated the obvious.

It made the peaks of his cheeks blush instantly. How much more of a creep could he even sound like, asking you about your order. “No one’s ever noticed,” you said a little quieter. Your tone made it sound like you weren’t talking about the cookie anymore. The words held much more weight to them.

“I hope I didn’t overstep any lines, it’s just that you’ve become a regular here, orders are easy to remember after a while.” Frankie watched you break the cookie into even smaller pieces, some of the chocolate falling on the plate.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and a hint of your smile faded across your face. He would’ve missed it if he blinked but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He never can.

“Tell me if you need anything else.”

You ordered one more coffee that day. You didn’t stay as long as you normally would, but when you closed your laptop, you looked a bit calmer. Your shoulders weren’t pulled to your ears anymore and you seemed to be able to breathe without much effort again. You seemed relieved. You waved him bye from the door when you left and the corner of your mouth rose just the slightest, telling him that you’d be okay.

The next time you came in, the next Tuesday, you opened the door and immediately when your gaze landed on Frankie, you glowed. You gave him a chipper, “Hello!” and ordered your usual mocha and sandwich, this time with the salted caramel cookie.

“So, how long have you worked here?” You asked him while he was pouring milk into the steaming jug. After that he gave you pieces of himself to you, answers that were insignificant in context, but they created an image of what he was like.

He told you that he hadn’t worked at the café for that long, but it was a job that he enjoyed. He took care of his mom, which made you ask if she needed to be taken care of. “She’s just getting older,” Frankie smiled to you. He valued his time with his mom, especially after his dad left when he was still young.

At the same time he gently asked you questions too, usually over the counter when he was carefully making your drink and hoping it would last a little longer every time so you’d have more time to answer.

When you came in, he continued the puzzle of you, collecting your words into his memory. How you moved out of the town when you felt the time was right, nothing really holding you back. You went far, but still came back to see old friends and family every few weeks. How you ended up wanting to come back for the rest of your studies, knowing this would be the last time before you’d need to properly start a career and wouldn’t have time to visit as often as you normally would.

There were moments when you would’ve probably spoken for a long time. About your plans for when you were done with your thesis, what festival you were going later this summer, what you still wanted to experience before becoming a full blown adult. “I don’t know why, but I want to go to the beach and have someone cover me in sand.” You laughed when you said that, shook your head and continued, “The problem is that I don’t want to be washing sand off me for a week after that.” It made Frankie crack up as well.

You would’ve told him anything. But then the mocha was ready and he had to set it on the counter and it cut you off immediately. It was like an axe to your words, cutting them short and making you laugh before you collected your thoughts and said, “We’ll continue from here the next time.”

As spring turned into warm early summer, the sun stayed up a little longer and the birds started to sing more as a sign of their little nests getting full, you smiled even more. There was levity in your steps, almost like you could’ve taken one last one and then flown away without looking back. You swapped your long sleeved shirts and jeans to tops and flowy, lighter pants and dresses. There was a glow on your face from the sun and when it rained, you welcomed it with open arms to enjoy the smell of summer arriving.

Every time you came to the café, you brightened Frankie’s day. Seeing you brought a smile on his face, warm richness to his voice, and his eyes always glinted when they found your brightness. You started to call him by his name and every time you said it out loud, he wanted to hear you say it more.

“Frankie!” You exclaimed when you reached the counter after standing in line for a moment. He had already seen you and you had given him a wave of your hand before you got back to tapping on your phone.

“Frankie!” You approached him when there was a break in the stream of customers coming in. You switched in which hand you held your empty water glass in every few seconds. He reached for it but you pulled it back.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you began and cleared your throat. “I have these tickets…”

“Hi, could I ask for something to be changed in my sandwich order?” A middle aged man wearing a pressed suit cut in and pushed you from the counter. You took a step back and gave him all the room he needed. Your shoulders deflated and you stood awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to the other. Frankie listened to the customer while his attention slipped to you.

“Thank you, and sorry,” the man apologized to you before he went back to his table by the corner where he had spread all his stuff.

“He was in a rush,” you joked flatly, staring at the glass in your hand.

“What did you want to ask me?” Frankie took in the nerves on your face and softened his voice. You avoided his attention as he tried to ease the strained energy between the two of you. Instead, you offered him your glass.

“Could I get some more of the raspberry and lime water, the container over there is empty,” you waved your hand towards the water station. Your voice was flat, admitting defeat.

Frankie wanted to know what you had in mind, what tickets you were talking about, he would’ve pushed for it. There was no chance for it though, the moment was over. You took your glass with a quiet, “Thanks,” and returned to your seat, burrowing your head in your work.

“Frankie, are you serious?” You once asked, when you saw the new cookie flavors. White chocolate and strawberry, lemon and raspberry, coconut and ginger, and one that you wanted to save.

“Frankie?” You asked with a lower voice when there weren’t many customers around. He leaned forward instinctively. “Can you watch my stuff for a moment? I have to go make a call.” You waved your phone in the air. He nodded, all words lost when he was lost in your eyes in the closer proximity. He came to collect your empty plate and wipe the few crumbs off the table, and then stood by all your stuff like that was his job.

“Hi Frankie,” you said with mischief in your voice when you leaned against the counter. You didn’t have to tell him your order anymore. He knew it like he was the one ordering it.

“The carnival’s this weekend.” You swallowed after stating the fact.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Everyone knew the carnival season was starting, information about it was plastered all over the town.

He could see the question on your lips, how they opened and closed like you were about to say something. You wet them with the tip of your tongue. Your eyes flicked to the shelves and machines behind Frankie, too nervous to look him in the eyes.

“Are you going?” You tapped your fingers against the speckled stone counter.

“Yeah, with some friends.” Immediately the hopefulness drained from your eyes even though the smile remained.

“That sounds fun. I hope you have a good time.” Whatever you had really wanted to say, or ask, drifted from reach. He wanted to believe you had planned to ask him out but chickened out at the last second.

“Are you going?” He rushed to ask when you refilled your water.

“Maybe.” You bravely held onto the smile even though it was slipping, cracking to show the disappointment that was already lacing your voice. You still waved him goodbye before you left, but you rushed off in a way that he hadn’t seen before.

Frankie straightens his t-shirt against his shoulders and sips at his water bottle. There’s only a couple of people left in the café and closing time is ticking closer. His coworker clatters something in the kitchen, but soon she’s whistling again to the music that she can hear through the speakers.

You would’ve come already, if you were to come to the café today. A sweltering day like this, wasted in a café, didn’t seem like something you’d do. “I can’t wait to hang out at the beach and do nothing all day,” you once said and even the thought made relief flood your smile.

“Frankie, can you come and help me a bit?” His coworker calls. Even though she was only supposed to clean the fridge, she has extended her task to include the cardboard boxes on the top shelves, with different types of napkins inside them. One is balanced against her chest, the other she’s barely able to hold on the shelf.

“I tried to wipe the shelf behind them but didn’t think how heavy they are,” she grunts as Frankie secures the box from her hand. “Thanks,” she sighs.

“And you cleaned the fridge already?” He asks, expecting to see the stuff inside it organized. The door opens to a fridge that looks incredibly like it hasn’t even been touched.

“I’ll get to it right away!” His coworker pushes the door back closed, and him out of the kitchen. “Thanks Frankie!” She hollers but doesn’t get an answer.

“Hi Frankie,” you say, in your strappy short sundress, sunglasses pushed on top of your head. Sweat beads against your forehead. Your skin glistens from the heat and the sun cream he can smell from far away. Sweet peaches.

You have a flower-patterned fan in your hand which you wave towards your face. The space between where your collarbones meet under your neck is wet with sweat trailing towards the neckline of your dress.

“Hi.” He combs his fingers through his hair and takes the necessary steps to meet you by the counter. The question he had on his mind for you this morning drains out of him. He can’t ask you out. He’s convinced it would be weird, it wouldn’t be appropriate. You would probably run away without a second thought.

“I’ve never seen this place this quiet before,” you wonder out loud. The cooler air that you fan against your skin wafts towards him with every push of your wrist. At the same time he can smell you more, that sweet sunscreen that takes him back to his childhood. The hot days when the sand under his feet was too hot, the sunscreen sticky on his skin and the salty water slipping into his mouth with every push of his arms.

“What can I get you?” Frankie asks, not wanting to assume you’ll go for your usual this time.

“Lemonade and…” You look at the cookies and stop in front of the one that you still haven’t tasted. “One of those triple chocolate brownie cookies, thanks.” You fidget with your dress while he pours plenty of ice into a takeout cup and drenches them in the tart lemonade. He chooses a cookie that looks the biggest and fattest.

“You’re not working today?” Frankie asks when he sees a smaller canvas bag on your shoulder and how it’s not bulging with contents as your usual canvas bag does.

“I actually finished my thesis.” You focus on digging out a couple crinkled five dollar bills and push them into the tip jar.

“Congrats.” What else is he supposed to say? His chest fills with disappointment. You said it long ago. You were here to finish your studies and now you’ve done it.

“Thanks.” The silence between the two of you stretches and teases the lines of discomfort. The look on your face matches the bittersweetness on Frankie’s face.

“You’re probably leaving soon then?”

You turn to look at the sweating cup on the counter and swirl your straw through the ice. You nod before you open your mouth, “Yeah, in a couple of weeks. I’m on holiday until then.”

“I’m happy for you,” and Frankie truly is. He saw how much you worked in the past few months. You’ve earned to have a breather before you’re thrown into work. “I hope you’ll come and visit again.”

“Of course.” You smile that genuine smile that is nothing but you. It’s the first thing that lights up your presence and the last thing he has seen in the past months when you’ve left through the door to go back home.

You take your lemonade and wrap your cookie in a napkin, leaving the plate on the counter, and head outside, under the shade of the sun umbrella. You watch people pass by and bask in the heat while slowly fanning your face and chest. The sun is finally sinking lower and the lower it gets, the faster the temperature seems to ease up. Frankie’s coworker finally emerges from the kitchen, just as it’s time to start closing up. You’re still sitting at the front while Frankie sweeps the floors.

“Hi!” He hears your cheerful voice say to someone. The edge of the broom clatters against one of the table legs, his attention on you and the small child you’re talking with.

Your muted voice carries into the café, the rise and fall of your excitement clear in your tone. You’re showing him something while his mom stands next to you, they’re both listening to your words intently.

Frankie continues sweeping, wanting to be done with work and get out of the sweaty cafe. The child’s high pitched inhale is clear and demands Frankie to look outside again. The air is full of rainbow colored soap bubbles. Some are smaller than the others but they all gleam in the golden sunshine.

The warm breeze carries them easily away from you before you blow on the soap bubble wand again and a burst of new bubbles escape into the air. The child follows the bubbles until they burst in the air. You offer the dripping wand to him, which he takes carefully into his small fist. He blows on it and the bubbles burst straight against your face. You pull back in laughter, wiping soap off your face.

“Frankie?” His boss calls for him, forcing him to meet her in the back.

The back alley is scorching hot, the sun trapped between the brick walls. Frankie drops the trash in the dumpster and takes his bike, the seat hot under his palm. This is the worst time to have his truck at the mechanics, and the only thing on his mind is driving with the windows down.

The air gets immediately cooler when he steps out on the street, the sun umbrellas closed and drooping in the light breeze. One of the seats isn’t empty.

“Don’t tell your coworker I stayed here even though she told me to leave.” You stand up and take slow steps to him. You take your sunglasses off and fidget with them, bathed in gold. You stop right in front of him and your smile pulls crows feet to appear next to your eyes.

Frankie is lost for words. Seeing you here, while he’s not in the café, is different, even though nothing has changed. Your closeness, the shy glances that you try to hide in the sun shining in your eyes while you don’t cover them with your sunglasses awakes those deep thumps in Frankie’s chest again. He’s even more confused when you put them in their case, and the case in your bag, no intention of shielding your eyes.

“Did you forget something?” Frankie’s voice is unsure, full of doubt on why you would’ve stayed after the closing time.

“I wanted to ask if you’re busy?” You swing your canvas bag next to your leg and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. As he stands in front of you, he could swear it’s just the two of you on that street, bathed in the dark rays and the refreshing breeze that the day has been craving for hours. There’s salt in the air, blowing in from the coast.

“No?”

“Would you like to go to the beach with me?” Your voice shakes gently in a way that someone might mistake it for you being cold. Frankie’s heart flies heavily in his chest, the sound in his ears dizzying him into questioning if he heard you right. You beat him to it.

You switch your weight from one sandalled foot to the other and grab your bag with both of your hands. The uncertainty is back. You try to keep on smiling, but it falters the longer he doesn’t answer.

“Forget it—” You raise your hand in the air and are ready to wave it in the air to dismiss your question completely.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Frankie snaps out of his reeling head, shutting you up in an instant. His hands sweat against the seat and handle of his bike. His mouth is dry and the pit of his stomach is filled with butterflies.

How long he has contained them, but you broke the jar with one question, filling him with the good kind of anxiety. He knows that whenever he gets nervous, he shuts down. Just like the first time he saw you, the first time you visited the café, his shyness takes center stage in how he acts. He gets quiet, his brain short circuits. No one else has been able to do that in a long time, no one else but you.

This time, seeing you standing in front of him practically radiant in the setting sun and by your happiness, he doesn’t want to lose any second of that to his reserved being.

“Hop on,” Frankie tells you gently.

“What?”

“I’ll ride us there.” He emphasizes the words by climbing on his bike, the seat still too warm even through his shorts.

“Okay,” you laugh and push your bag on your shoulder. Frankie offers you his hand, yours slotting with it like it has always belonged there. What he doesn’t expect is your other hand to land on his shoulder, holding on dependently as you swing your leg over the rear rack. You squeeze the muscle there, your fingertips digging into the tightness under his skin.

“Wait,” you say, and pull your hand back from his. Frankie misses the contact immediately, the imprint raising moisture from his palm. Your sandals scuff against the ground and the bike sways just a little as you find at least somewhat comfortable seat.

Your both hands are pressed against his shoulders, hanging from him awkwardly. Your hands are hot, gripping to him, and it makes his head spiral.

“Ready?”

“Mhm,” but you don’t sound sure at all. Immediately when the bike bumps on a crack in the pavement, no matter how much he tries to avoid them, you let out a sound somewhere between a screech and a yelp, your hands shaking and your balance flailing. Frankie’s feet are against the ground immediately.

“Okay, this won’t work. Wrap your arms around my middle, it’s more secure.” You don’t say anything for a beat, he only hears a light chuckle.

“More secure you say?” The meaning isn’t lost on him. You could understand his words in many ways, what wrapping yourself around him would imply, and apparently you stuck with exactly the one that suggests something else than riding a bike.

“You know what I mean,” his voice cracks with unintentional humor.

“Do I?”

“Yes, now just trust me.” You fix your chuckles and sigh out. Your breath fans against his back. You lower your hand from his shoulder, drag it against the muscle closest to his spine, and leave a trail of sparks that burst into goosebumps all over his body, every nerve ending awake and alert. Your hand rounds against the softness of his side, and over to his middle.

“Is this okay?” The question is full of uncertainty even though you’re trying to hide it under the smile he can hear in your voice. His confirmation gives you enough confidence to bring your other hand on him as well, tightly wrapping around him, securing you against him.

“You want to try again?” Frankie hears the drop in his voice and the slight tremble that your closeness causes. He can’t trust his voice at all, when you squeeze closer to him, your chest glued to his back.

“Yes.” You lift your feet off the ground and Frankie gets to pedaling.

You let out a squeak as the bike twitches into movement but relax against the broadness of Frankie’s back. The blowing breeze cools your skin and brings much needed relief for Frankie to keep his focus on the street and not in your hands that twine together around him in such confidence that it makes his stomach drop.

In the traffic lights you drop your feet against the ground at the same time as Frankie does and pull them back up when the light turns green. The salty water gets closer with every turn of the wheels. Streetlights flicker on and a deep blue mass swells across the sky behind you.

The sun colors the horizon in rusty yellows and oranges, the deepest parts already red that fade into the nearing night. Seagulls laugh somewhere up above, and the breeze turns cooler towards the sands that you’re already waiting to have under your feet.

You squeeze Frankie’s t-shirt into your palm, to hold onto him and to keep him close. There’s not much traffic around, some cars here and there, and the quieter it gets the more Frankie can hear the nerves talking to him in his head. For all he knows this could be a dream, after months of pining after you.

You gasp out loud when you see the sea. The horizon bathes in the last sunlight, wispy, blue and purple clouds swirled in like in the cookies you’ve been eating. Your hands untangle around Frankie and rest softly against his back. You’re pulling back, letting go, and the emptiness is already settling in with how he misses your touch.

Your feet brush up against the sandy ground and you’re off his bike, off him, drawn to the ocean. The metal chain clangs against a railing as Frankie locks his bike to it, eager to follow after you.

You stand in the ocean, the waves splash against your ankles, and you look like a vision. Frankie sits further back in the warm sand. His toes bury deeper in, and the remnants of the heat keep him grounded. He doesn’t care if it gets under his clothes and if he’ll find it for days to come. It’ll be a reminder of this night.

There’s a bonfire that crackles and sparks embers into the air, some people around it laughing. They’re making smores, the burnt smell of sugar wafting through the salt for a second. You point out a boat in the distance, the lights clear against the darkening sky. The waves crash in mellow waves against the sand, leaving white fine froth on it.

A fancy restaurant by the beach has a live band playing easy jazz, the sounds from the soft saxophone and the piano drifting towards the water. You stand in the foamy waves, watching your feet get devoured by the dark that ebbs and flows.

Frankie holds on to your bag and sandals and watches you against the rusty sky. He could watch you until it was completely dark and even then, he could make out the silhouette of you against the night sky.

“I’ve always loved the sea,” you say with your voice somewhere between a whisper and a soft sigh when you make your way back to dry land, like you were dreaming and wouldn’t want to break the spell or wake up. You don’t hesitate to sit next to Frankie, your thigh brushes against his.

“Thanks for coming here with me, I didn’t know if you’d want to.” It’s easy to lose himself in you. In the gentleness of your voice. Now in the warmth that pulls him in closer to you, searching for more contact with you.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I guess I’ve been scared that I’ve read you wrong.” You swallow and lick your lower lip between your teeth. He might not be the only one who has been shy this whole time. Your confidence comes and goes, sparks every few moments and then gets replaced by a timidness that holds you back. You can’t face him. You can barely let your voice be heard over the lapping waves and the music from the restaurant.

“How do you think you’ve read me then?”

“That maybe…” You stop yourself. You play with the hem of your dress. The fabric bunched against your bare thighs. “I’ve been a bit scared to be forward, maybe, just because I wasn’t sure what you thought of me. That maybe I was reading the signs wrong, it wouldn’t be the first time, you know. That maybe, possibly, you might… I don’t know…”

Listening to you try to wade your way to the point through the waves of your nerves is endearing, while it’s also pushing Frankie to smile. His crush for you is pulling it out of him with the heat that spreads from his chest up to his neck and cheeks.

“I mean I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” You finally admit and the crush he has been holding onto blooms into a garden. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes but I had to ask. I had to know if maybe… you would’ve wanted to ask me out as well.” The words are out. You drop your hands and everything you wanted to say is now out in the open. It doesn’t erase the butterflies that flutter somewhere between the two of you, but finally having the truth out does bring out a safe peacefulness, something he can lean on.

“Hmm,” he hums out a breath. Words have left him completely. The warmth of your skin close to his is reminder enough for him to keep his head focused, his eyes on you and his heart from flying from him. He moves his leg just a little to get it pressed against yours. You’re waiting, your eyes on him, your body turned towards his.

“I wanted to ask you out the first time you came to the shop.”

The words take you by surprise. A smile spills on your lips. You try so hard to contain it, but hardly manage to keep yourself from laughing out loud.

“Why didn’t you?” Your eyes are tearing up, either from the breeze or the release of nerves. One lands on your cheek. Frankie is quick to reach his thumb out and catch it. The tear rolls down to his palm, heavy and beautiful, leaving behind a streak that gleams in the last rays of the sun. He closes it into his hand and spreads it onto his skin with his fingers.

“I’ve never been good at seizing the moment or being brave. I didn’t want to be a creep.”

“So, you’ve let me be a creep? Watching you work, coming in every other day?”

“But you’ve been working.”

“My thesis has been done for a while. If I was there only for that, I would’ve stopped coming about six weeks ago.” Laughter bursts from you and Frankie in disbelief. The more you laugh, the more the indifference he convinced you were feeling reveals to be plain blindness.

You press your forehead against his shoulder, a gesture he doesn’t expect but also isn’t surprised by. You’re in his space, on him, never breaking a boundary, but wanting to absorb him as much as you can.

“What have you been doing then?”

“Applying for jobs, reading different forums and articles, sometimes nothing.” He holds his hand out and like earlier, yours fits against it like it belongs there. It’s not just a simple touch anymore though. It’s revelation of what you’ve been hiding. It’s hope for something to come out of it. Whatever will happen might just be a short fling. Or maybe it’ll be the beginning of something Frankie hasn’t had before.

Frankie takes you home. The energy is different as the night has fallen above the town. The air has turned balmy promising a mighty thunderstorm in the coming days. It doesn’t stop you from pressing yourself against his back, sticking to him with your arms around him. He doesn’t mind it, neither do you. You only push in closer and hold on tighter.

“Thanks for the ride home.” You fix your dress and stand in front of him. Your eyes drift to his lips, and you wet yours.

“Sorry for the uncomfortable seat, I’ll have my truck back next time.” Your reaction is worth every word. The soft smile, the drop of your gaze, the hand that reaches for his and twines with his fingers loosely swaying back and forth.

“Next time,” you repeat back to him, the words hanging as a promise in the air. They’re wings to his heart that soars into a fast beat, excited for whatever’s to come and nervous of the same prospect.

“I better get going.” Your eyes still flit to stare at his lips.

“I’ll wait here, make sure you get home safe.”

“The door is right there.”

“I’ll still wait.” You reluctantly let go of his fingers and take a step back, then another before you turn from him. Frankie rests his hands on his thighs and waits. You dig your keys out and stop. Maybe you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

The sound of your sandals against the concrete is loud in the quiet. You have a new kind of bravery in your steps when you come back.

“Would it be completely inappropriate if I kissed you?” Frankie’s heart is in his throat. He shakes his head, giving you permission to step even closer.

You lean in but you don’t rush into it. You bring your hot palm against his cheek, and further in to tangle your fingers into the hairs at the base his neck. Your first move is to press your forehead against his and take a breath.

Your chest rises and falls steadily when you close your eyes. He presses all the details of your face into his memory from such close proximity. Your lashes, the faint lines next to your eyes, the plumpness of your cheeks, the curve of your mouth which you breathe a heavy sigh from. Your nose nudges against his, as a final sign for him to throw away his insecurities.

Your lips press against his slowly, so soft it leaves room for so much more. Your kiss is a breath and Frankie needs to chase it to keep his lungs filled. It’s easy to deepen the kiss, to have your lips slot with his, to feel the tip of your tongue tease his bottom lip just to test how he reacts.

You press in closer, just to get Frankie to pull you in even more. The bike under him wobbles as he moves to hold you closer, from you pressing your weight against him, yet somehow, he’s the most secure he’s ever felt in anyone’s embrace. A sighed out moan vibrates in your throat and your hand tugs at the curls on his head. And then it’s over.

Too soon, yet just at the right moment. He wants more, his body craves you, and the blown out pupils in your eyes under the orange street lights is enough to tell him that he’s not the only one. You lick the moisture from your lips, the signs of his mouth from around them, and pull your hands back. The smile that he has learned to want to see appears again, this time with the heaviness of unadulterated lust on your skin. You’re an ember in front of him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you pledge and give him one more soft touch of your lips against his. Frankie doesn’t want to let your lips go and chases after them with the kiss still on his lips. You giggle and pull away.

Frankie’s hand slides from the back of your thigh, right under the hem of your skirt and slips off your skin with heat etched onto it. His fingertips are sensitive from holding onto you so tightly, from wanting to have you.

You give him one last look from the door, and you fix your dress on the thigh he was holding. Your own fingertips brush against where his hand was resting, excited and like it was his place to touch. He hears your tender laugh accompany the wave of your hand, before you disappear from view. He brushes his fingers through his hair with the hand he held you with, the scent of your sunscreen tattooed on his palm now forever etched to his memory.

#secretsprings #frankie friday #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #katsheadincloudswrites #like a sun shining late at night

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Note

Hey love how is your day going? ❤️

Just saw you are open for request so I thought I would pop in bc it's been on my mind all day. How about some pure Nanami fluff where he take care of his s/o on her period? I feel like I've been run over by a truck and that gorgeous man taking care of me would be just ARGHH...🥹

cw: fluff, established relationship.

Author’s Note: Hi my lovely friend! Thank you for the request and I hope you feel better soon! Periods always suck, but husband Nanami is an EXPERT at making it all better. I hope you like this one! Short and sweet. :)

--------------------

You shuffle out of the bedroom in your coziest sweats, eyes tired, head throbbing, cramps aching. It’s that time of month again, the dreaded period. All you want to do is pop a painkiller to make it all go away.

Nanami is at the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee with a spoon, amused at your rough appearance in the kitchen. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kento. I’m not in the mood.” You sit down at the dining table, resting your head on the surface, pouting.

Chuckling softly, he takes the seat beside you. “I’m not lying. You are beautiful. Gorgeous, really.”

You can’t help but smile through your feigned anger. He always knows what to say to make you feel better. “Do we really have to go to that thing today?” you ask. The two of you have plans to attend a friend’s baby shower, but given the current state you’re in, that’s the last place where you want to be.

He caresses your cheek, gazing at you fondly. “No, my love. We don’t. We can stay here all day if you’d like.”

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Really?”

“Whatever you want.”

Within minutes, Nanami whips up your favorite breakfast, served with the hot beverage of your choice to soothe your cramps. When you start clutching at your abdomen, your husband is quick on his feet, walking to the bedroom to retrieve your heating pad. He carefully runs the power cord to the nearest outlet, adjusting the settings on the controller until it’s the perfect temperature. It’s become somewhat of a routine every other month or so, when the pain is almost unbearable that you can’t function normally, and Nanami is always there to help you through it.

You digest your meal at the couch, him cuddled next to you under a throw blanket, reading the morning paper while you scroll through your phone, the two of you in a comfortable silence. After a while, he asks, “Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure. Which one?”

Smiling, he answers, “My absolute favorite.”

You don’t know what to expect when he gets up to retrieve his laptop, connecting it to the TV. On the screen is his desktop, and you watch curiously as the little cursor hovers over a folder called, “My Love”. He double clicks on a particular icon before you can see what it is. When your wedding video starts playing, you look at him, tears welling in your eyes, unable to speak.

He sits back down on the couch, holding you, as the two of you watch. There’s candid footage of you getting ready with your bridesmaids, him dressed to the nines in his tux besides his groomsmen. The first look, when Nanami nearly breaks down at how stunning his soon-to-wife is. The vows you exchanged, promising each other a lifetime of unconditional love and support through thick and thin. Your first kiss as an official married couple, where Gojo had to physically pry the two of you apart when it was lasting longer than necessary. Yuji’s speech, which was a perfect blend of humor and heart, unlike Gojo’s, which resulted only in roaring laughter from the rest of your guests, much to Nanami’s dismay. Then, the dancing to end the night, all your friends and family together, celebrating the happy couple.

The tears haven’t stop streaming down your face, remembering each detail like it happened only yesterday. It’s been years since this monumental day, and your relationship with Nanami has only gotten stronger.

When the movie is done, he holds your cheeks between his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips.

Eventually, you both fall asleep on the couch, you cradled in his arms, his hands massaging you below the belly where the dull pain is. After your nap, you take a warm bath together, basking in each other’s warm bodies in the water, exchanging soft kisses throughout. It’s simple, peaceful, serene. Everything you adore about your life with your husband.

Dried off and back in your most comfortable pajamas, you apply a face mask, offering one to him. He accepts, enjoying your gleeful expression as he presses the Hello Kitty sheet mask on cheeks. For dinner, you order delivery from your favorite restaurant. While you wait, the two of you look through photo albums together, reminiscing about vacations, family reunions, outings with friends. It’s easy to get caught up in memories, even easier to fantasize about the future together. That’s what you love most about your marriage with Nanami. It’s easy. Even on days when you feel like you’re at your lowest, he pulls you back up and makes everything alright.

Dessert follows your delicious meal in the form of an ice cream sundae bar, complete with different candies, nuts, hot fudge, even sprinkles. Nanami always has these on hand for days like this. With your bellies full, the two of you relax once more on the couch, watching a few episodes of a show you’ve been keeping up with. Your head is on his lap, his hands delicately rubbing at your temples, easing whatever remaining tension away.

At the end of the night, you’re snuggled with him in bed, warm and cozy with his arms wrapped around your waist, spooning you. His breath tickles the back of your neck as he asks, “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

You turn around to smile at him, nuzzling your nose to his. “Yes. All thanks to you.”

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #Kento Nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #requests

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stellar-solar-flare · 1 month

Text

Warmth | S. R. | oneshot

Mature | Steve Rogers x Chronically Ill Reader

I’ll take care of you, he had said then. I love you. I always will. On the bad days and the good ones.

AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AUTHOR AO3

Established relationship, married couple, romance, fluff & hurt/comfort, angst with a happy/hopeful ending. Reader is good friends with Bucky and Nat.

Word Count: 1,771 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her. Mid-to-late twenties. Has a chronical illness that causes pain and fatigue, no specific diagnosis mentioned. Married to Steve. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

Warnings: Themes of chronic pain & illness, and the feelings that such conditions may cause, including self-worth and self-esteem issues.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

You get close.

The base of the batter is done, butter and chocolate melted, instant coffee and sugars mixed into it, milk and eggs and vanilla extract poured into the bowl. The kitchen of the Tower floor you and Steve share is downright indulgent, spacious enough that you can spread everything out and you try to work fast enough before being up becomes too much to bear. You manage to ignore the nagging tingling of your body, the slow burning that goes in waves from knees all the way to your chest.

You grind your teeth, focus on the task at hand.

Just as you’re about to start sifting in the flour-cocoa mixture, the first red-hot knife sinks into your stomach. You yelp, even as you knew it was coming, and with the second strike of the blade, you drop down to crouch next to the kitchen counter, squeezing the edge of the counter with both hands, fingers cramping from the grip.

Eyes closed, you wait as the pain drums through your body with every heartbeat, nerves aflame with lightning, muscles contracting and releasing. You try to breathe through it, squeeze your eyelids together to keep the tears at bay.

That’s where Steve finds you.

It doesn’t alarm him like it used to; he no longer drops a bag of groceries down when he sees you like this. Instead, he sets it gently down next to the fridge and steps closer, kneeling down on the floor next to you. His warm palm slides over the back of your dress.

“You were supposed to rest, darling,” he scolds gently.

You glare at him with tear-filled eyes, but the anger melts away when you see the worry on his face. That has stayed, even as he has learned that anything like this is not inherently dangerous.

“I wanted to bake. I was craving mud cake and the store-bought just never hits the right spot.”

“I would’ve baked for you,” he sighs.

“I don’t want you to bake for me! I want to be able to do things myself. I want this stupid goddamn body to fucking function like it should be,” you snap, regretting the bite in your voice the second the words have left your mouth.

“I know,” he says. “I know how it is. I know how much it sucks.”

And he does. It is almost impossible to remember that sometimes, after watching footage of him yanking helicopters out of the sky, but once, this was his life too.

“Yeah, the difference being that you’re no longer pathetic,” you mumble.

“You are not pathetic. It’s just a rough patch,” he says.

He knows where it’s coming from.

You still remember the time you got your diagnosis, how you told Steve that you should break off the engagement, that you didn’t expect him to hitch his wagon to this. You went as far as sleeping on Nat’s sofa for a week, and then Bucky forced himself through the door and sat you down and looked at you with eyes full of Winter Soldier steel.

You really think he can’t take this, huh? If there’s one person who understands how it feels to be in pain and helpless, one person that will know why you’re full of frustration and anger at times, it’s Steve Rogers, he had said.

It’s not about what he can take. It’s about what he deserves, and what I don’t, you had grumbled in response, desperately not trying to show how much you missed sleeping in Steve’s warm arms at night.

So he wasn’t worthy of being loved and taken care of when he was sick and incapacitated and chronically ill? Would you love him any less if the serum fell out of him and he went back to that state?

Of course not. But that’s different.

How’s that different?

Because you are a fucking asshole, Bucky Barnes, you had spat, knowing that to resort to ad hominem was to admit defeat.

Oh, I am, he had grinned. But right now, I am the fucking asshole who is right.

And he had been precisely that. Steve had welcomed you back with open arms, and you had cried against his chest until you had felt like you could breathe again, until the words ‘chronic’ and ‘illness’ didn’t feel like they were sucking all the air out of your lungs.

I’ll take care of you, he had said then. I love you. I always will. On the bad days and the good ones.

You know that. You know Steve Rogers makes no such promises if he doesn’t mean them, but sometimes it isn’t the same to know something on a rational level and accept it emotionally. On some days, you are full of pain-sharpened thorns and god, you just want to prick something that is beautiful, want to wallow in the self-pity and despise any light that tries to reach your darkness.

“Help you to bed?” he asks, and you don’t want to, but you nod nevertheless.

He lifts you up. It’s spring; he’s been out in simply a button-down and slacks, and you can feel his warmth through the cotton as he holds you against his chest. At least this part was easy. At least you knew that taking care of you wasn’t straining his body.

You’ve done what you can to make the apartment into an oasis of peace, and the bedroom is no exception. The bed is huge, filled with soft sheets and a pile of pillows that can be moved to allow you to rest as comfortably as possible. Steve sets you down on your side and sheds the clothes he’s been outside in before getting into bed next to you. You groan at the feeling of his body, covered only by the boxer briefs, pressing against your back, warm and relaxing like a furnace.

“You’re the best heating pad in the world,” you manage to smile, snuggling deeper into his embrace as your muscles start to relax.

He chuckles against your neck and presses a kiss to the back of your neck. Lying down, as much as you hate to admit, always seems to make a wave of relief flow through your body, muscles relaxing. Steve’s palm smooths over your side, stroking again and again, and the relaxation deepens, seeps into every muscle.

“The oven’s on,” you mumble, as he makes no attempt to move. “The groceries you brought are still in the kitchen.”

In response, he rucks up your dress and places his palm over your stomach, and you can’t help but groan at the relief of the warmth.

“I’m on heating pad duty,” he says. “Those can wait.”

You sigh, despite the smile on your face.

“I really thought I had enough spoons. It was better today, until it wasn’t.”

“It’s okay. It’s not always predictable.”

It’s not. And he knows that’s the worst part of it.

“I wanted you to come home to something nice.”

“I come home to you every day.”

“Flatterer,” you say, but despite the words, you entwine your fingers into his on top of your stomach.

Your wedding rings make a small clink when they touch his. It had been a longer engagement than you had initially planned; you had wanted to make sure he wasn’t marrying you just because of duty, just because he felt like he should, now that he knew you were going to battle with this for the rest of your life. He had countered that with the argument that he had proposed to you even before he had known anything about this, when your illness had still masked itself into bouts of tiredness.

He had convinced you. Your wedding portrait, Steve lifting you up and spinning you around, hangs above your bed, and even on the worst of days, looking at it brings a smile to your face.

Bucky had cried through the entire ceremony.

“Do you want me to get your meds?” Steve asks.

“I already took them; can’t take more right now. Lot of good that did.”

“Hey,” comes the whisper against your neck.

The tears that have barely dried escape your eyes again. Steve feels you tense and kisses the back of your neck again, the hand on you pulling you closer against him.

“I feel so useless,” you say. “Everyone’s so nice to me; I’m everyone’s stupid charity project.”

He has heard all of this before; this conversation comes every time you are going through a rough patch, and every time, his answers are full of patience and love.

God, what have you done to deserve him?

“Or they’re your friends – our friends. They like you. You are more than this, even though it doesn’t feel like that right now. You are plenty of things outside this illness. And I love you, for reasons that have nothing to do with whether or not you’re useful.”

“And you’re the stubborn dumbass who married himself into this mess.”

“I’m definitely both,” he says. “But neither of those have anything to do with the fact that I married you. And the doctor told you to rest, so who’s the stubborn one here?”

“Hypocrite,” you say. “Bucky has certainly told me how good you were at resting up, huh?”

You hear the chagrinned laugh and know the expression on his face. He mumbles something about how he really needs to get Bucky to stop telling stories about his youth to you, if they are just going to be used against him.

“Too late,” you say.

The tiredness is creeping over you again; being up in the middle of a bad flare-up has taken more out of you than you care to admit, and Steve’s closeness has taken all the bitter fight that had remained after the energy had drained out.

“I know it’s hard to rest when it doesn’t feel like rest is making any difference,” he says. “But you still should.”

You want to fight him, but your eyelids are falling closed as his warmth has filled your every crampy muscle and tight tendon.

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “Sleep well, beautiful.”

“Loveyatoo,” you mumble in response, the safety of his presence nudging you over the edge of consciousness and into sleep.

An hour later, you wake up to the scent of freshly-baked mud cake floating through the apartment and smile into the room, feeling like you could go for a big slice and a nice cup of coffee, sitting across from Steve and listening to him talk about his day.

Even in a rough patch, it’s not all bad.

#steve rogers x reader #stellarsolarflare literary universe #tw chronic illness #tw chronic pain #steve rogers x chronically ill reader #steve rogers romance

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

Flawless

TW: Smut. Language. Mentions of blood. SoftDomRafe! Angst due to body image.

SUMMARY: Rafe validates why he loves your figure…

WORD COUNT: 2800

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Flawless

It didn't matter the color of the fabric or style of the dress. Nothing seemed right for the aesthetic the Cameron family left at every function. Wheezie was the eccentric youth who wore the carefully curated pastels orchestrated by Rose, who owned a dramatic statement piece all her own. Ward was demure in his perfectly tailored suit and million dollar smile. And Sarah was effortlessly soft yet desirable with her siren stare and ethereal style. But the responsibility it meant to be on Rafe's arm had meant your own physique was set into question against his mouth watering appearance. It was louder than that of your own insecurities even as you'd overheard those envious of your relationship with the attractive Cameron, remarks of your healthy weight contrasting their improbable perfections made possible by unhealthy standards. And it was enough to drain any potential confidence into uncertainty as you bowed your head while sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Bullshit tie-" Rafe groaned at the inability to perfect the Windsor knot expected in the reflection of his father's ensemble. Yet the sight of your state had redirected his focus to your well being. More specifically, becoming enraged to whoever or whatever was responsible for its decline.

"What is it, baby?"

"It's stupid." You sniffled, shaking your head. The only thing you loathed more than their comments and glances, were how you let them get to you. Even if you were tempted to fall into the fads of disordered ‘diets’ to appease them, the way he found beauty within even your most shallow of confidences had kept you clear from acting on such dark thoughts.

"The only stupid thing is how stupidly beautiful you are..." He spoke in pure honesty as you scoffed.

"Can I just meet up with you after?"

"Are you sick?"

"No..."

"Do you want to be with someone else?" Your eyes narrowed.

"No-"

"As far as I'm concerned, those are the only two reasons you wouldn't be coming with me. The first I'd stay back and take care of you...and if there was someone else..." He used the bend of his fingers to direct your eyes to him. "I'd miss the entire party to prove that I'm the only one for you. Just like you are for me…"

You couldn't respond to his sweet words. You felt hypocritical to agree but uncertain to answer as you were well aware how quick to anger he was. For that, you only remained silent.

"So tell me who said something..."

"Nobody."

"So I don't make you feel beautiful then?"

"Rafe..."

"It's my job. To make you come and feel beautiful." Your cheeks flushed to his words.

"I just don't feel...skinny enough...okay..." You hung your head in shame at the remark. No matter the times he reminded you of the opposite, you couldn't help but question the sour words of your peer antagonists as they circled your mind and withering self-esteem.

"Stand up."

"Rafe..."

"Stand. Up."

He spoke more aggressively as you stood in only your lingerie. His eyes adored the sight for a moment, a greedy glance, as you stood in anticipation. You were expecting him to turn you towards the mirror set to the side of the closet you stood in front of. But instead, you watched him take your dress to his fingers.

"Apparently I have to make something clear..." The tag of your dress was removed from the fabric. Your eyes widened.

"I don't give a shit if you're a size zero or fifty."

"Rafe-"

"I'm not done." He moved to your closet, taking any piece of clothing he could and repeating the process with each tag he could.

"I don't care if you weigh under a certain amount. All I care about is that you're healthy. That you eat. That you’re happy." His eyes darkened.

"And that you're mine." When finishing the final dress, set in a pile discarded at your feet, he now pulled you before the mirror.

But even in his dramatic attempt to make a point, you could feel those bitter words add weight to your curves.

"Look."

"Rafe, please. I just don't feel like-"

"If whoever was stupid enough to make you feel like this can't see how fucking beautiful you are, that's on them. But I'm telling you to look. Look at this...Look at what's all mine..." You turned to face him, forcing the fingers tracing the skin of your stomach to now rest at your back as your eyes met with his.

"I have stretch marks-"

"And claw marks...from where I love to guide you into me-"

"And I'm heavier than the other girls-" He scoffed at this. "I look in the mirror and I can't help but notice. The way they look and how they'd look better at your side and-" He moved in a quick step to the mirror beside the closet. A sudden first made an abrupt collision to the glass as it shattered.

"Rafe!" Picking up a piece of glass within a dress he'd then in disregard moments prior, he moved in your direction. But even with the menacing look behind his eyes and the way he'd sauntered to you with the sharp edge of a potential weapon, you trusted he wouldn't harm you.

"You should only listen to me, not done fucking reflection that's too stupid to know beauty..." He led the edge of the broken piece of mirror to your chest. The delicate fabric keeping your bra connected was teased with the makeshift knife's edge.

"I don't want you to wear what they do. I don't want you to wear anything." In the time it took to exercise a simple exhale, his secondary hand took hold of that thin material as his dominant hand cut it loose. Your gasp was silenced by his scoff.

"But even when you have to wear something. You have my full attention. You're beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurts. I have to keep from touching you every second of the day...sleeping next to you at night...but I know you need to rest for how you're gonna take me later ..as a reward for being patient. But if I say you're beautiful and you say you're not...are you calling me a liar?" He asked, leading the glass beneath your chin.

"Because I think you're smarter than that." You swallowed hard from excitement as you were well aware he'd only mark your skin if you asked.

"I just don't feel like I'm...skinny enough..." He cocked his jaw, slowly nodding, and sucking in a breath. And yet, none of those motions were genuine in agreement. Instead, they had been given as a means of validation he would need to prove his point.

"I don't know who the fuck made you think that. Don't have to worry about those stupid tags or that mirror...so I know it's something else..." He walked you to the direction of the bed.

"But what I do know...is that by the time I'm done with you...you'll never question it again." He pushed you onto the bed. "If you do..." he chucked his tongue. "You'll have me to deal with." He pulled you to the edge, removing your panties with the sharp edge of the glass before disposing of it completely.

Disposing of the fabric, his body was suddenly over your own. Hands pressed to the bed on either side of you had sent you deeper into the mattress as you swallowed hard to the dominant man set with such a task behind usually kind eyes.

"You trust me, yeah?" You nodded.

"You know I wouldn't lie to you?" Again, you bobbed your head.

"Then listen...because I'm only going to be able to explain it once before I have to act on it...So listen carefully..." He kisses your lips softly.

"Perfect. Soft and warm..." He led his mouth to your jaw and then your neck, "I love tasting your heart beat for me right here..." His fingers drifted to the natural part made of your thighs as his hips had fit perfectly there, "and I love feeling it here...But I'm getting ahead of myself..." He returned his hands to your breasts.

"I could massage and tease these all day...I love watching you squirm when I do..." Your mouth parted to release that light kaon that came expectedly as he twisted your hard nipples from his touch.

"And sucking on them...feeling you pull my hair because you want more..." He narrated it just prior to it happening as he smirked to his clairvoyant prediction.

"And when I kiss lower..." But in the attempts to do this, he felt you tense. He groaned to this clench as he knew why. Your eyes flashed to the sight of those girls, even ones like Sarah, that had the flawless flat stomachs you couldn't help but fantasize to own. But the structure of your body made this impossible to obtain.

"Right here..." He explained with his ringed finger set at rest just below your navel.

"That's where I come...inside you when I can't take it anymore...and you feel it ..and I love how well you take it..." His words were drilling with too much heat to fathom. You pulled him to your lips. He still had a point to make, but your desperations managed to swallow him whole. He relished in the race made of your fingers rushing through his hair and pulling ever so slightly as his tongue brushed your bottom lip.

"I can't wait-" He breathed quickly, your nod acting as the consent he needed, before you helped him undress. The lack of a full ensemble meant for swift access to his bare chest that you craved to feel in a collision to your skin. The heat of his body and the power of a desperate heart had transported you to believe every word spoke from his breathless lips.

"I know you don't need it-" He spit at the feminine fold between your legs as you gasped, "But I love that look on your face when I do that." You pulled him back in to kiss you as he aligned himself with your sex.

"You were made for me. Me." He groaned, offering a single thrust to which you felt him at optimum depth.

"Do you feel how fucking hard I am? That isn't because you look like them. It's because you're YOU. Beautiful. You." He moved once, your lips parting to accommodate the stretch you weren't ever white able to adjust to.

"But still all mine." You nodded slowly, agreement interrupted by a genesis of a slow pace. His toes came to a stabilization to the wood beneath his bed, forcing the mattress to creak to his slow collision made against your hips.

"Every whimper...every inch....every time you come...everything is mine- " His grip ate into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you even closer to him. Even if his words were vulgar and his hips were capable of taking you at a murderous pace, he moved in a slow glide to bask in every sensation for you both.

"I love you." He spoke, almost pained. "And if I have to remind you of it every second, you bet your perfectly blistered ass," He offered a teasing strike before taking it back in an amorous hold. "That I will."

Silence filled the space between you as you became invested in the hollow of lust. Worries and obligations quieted in the war of desire and love blossoming between you. As he fisted the sheets in the soft drives made in climbing acceleration, you responded with the perfect moans and labored breathing that only motivated him further. Wrapped completely in one another, limbs a blur to the amorous connectivity made in such motions , he needed to feel you to the deepest and dullest extent.

You were taken into a kiss, tongues tangled, as your legs set over him in a straddle. He prepared you to take him once again, but kept you raised over him with a grip around your back, as he took hold of the back of your hair and neck.

"Do you know why I know?" Your eyes narrowed as you were breathless but curious hovered over him.

"I know you're flawless because I'm so fucking broken that being near you...touching you...being loved by you...is enough to fix it. That's beautiful. Not just your body...or the way you say my name when you're annoyed but still put up with my shit ..not the way you feel when you come or how you make me...But because you make those broken pieces whole again."

"Rafe-" Tears filled both of your eyes.

"And you questioning that questions me...us...But so help me, if I have to spend every night reminding you...I will." He almost growled those final words as you were taken down onto him. He flexed immediately inside of you in response to the gasp made against him.

"Tell me you understand. Tell me " He spoke behind clenched teeth. Those once soft motions were now harsh. The thrusts made deep but the pleasure and compassion still on the forefront.

"Tell me you're beautiful."

"Rafe-" He took hold of the back of your hair, pulling you to take a sharp inhale of surprise once again.

"Then tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours!"

"And that makes you perfect. That makes you flawless... THAT makes you mine." He huffed, leading you to that intense rise of ecstasy that sent your back into an arch. Collecting you in his arms as he found his own release in time of your coming tremors, he kissed you to breathe in those moans he'd earned.

"Now you're going to put on any one of those dresses and let me show you off..." You looked to the floor, a heavy gaze assessing the options quickly. "But it won't matter whatever you choose because I'll tear it shreds when I get you back in here..."

You cocked your head.

"And you let me see anyone giving you anything even close to a cross look and that mirror is the mercy I won't show them-" To the mention of this, you pulled him back to you by taking hold of his hand. Licking your lips, you kissed around the wound as your eyes rose to make contact with him. The fingers if hei fist came loose as you took the ringed digit into your mouth.

"I feel beautiful for you, Rafe. The way you look at me when I'm on my knees for you." His jaw clenched.

"Let me feel beautiful?" He wanted to fight you and make you rise to your feet again. But the way you spoke such a request in such a whine that made him hard for you once again, he only endured what you offered him.

"You are always beautiful, baby."

"Then let me be." You smirked, taking him behind your lips as a favor of gratitude. As he had been slow with you, you had returned the ecstasy to him. Tasting yourself had only added to the eroticism before his hand suddenly retracted you from your endeavors.

"Say it. Say it or you don't get to do this anymore." You took your hand around his shaft.

"I'm beautiful for you. I'm perfect for you. Now let me make you come for me so I can remember that as you show me off..." You used his own words against him as he scoffed. You took the distraction and weakening grip to take him into your throat again.

Tears and drool gathering at your chin had been an announcement of a job well done as he grunted and cursed over you. The grip made in your hair had mirrored the one you'd taken into his thighs as he warned you if your skillset being more than enough.

"I'm gonna come! Baby! Fuck!"

You only nodded, the vibration from your moan of approval sending him over the second edge, strengthened by that overstimulation.

"Fucking perfect." He answered.

"Beautiful..." You teased with your thumb collecting his cum from your bottom lip and setting it behind your lips.

"Flawless." He corrected, kissing you quiet as it has been enough to silent your insecurities for now. And even if they would return again, you would have this to reference from here on out.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @belcalis9503

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#rafecameron x reader #rafe x y/n #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks #obx #obxsmut #outer banks smut #obx fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks smut #outer banks fanfiction

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streets-in-paradise · 1 year

Text

Unlikely Friendship-Child's Play (1988) and Stranger Things Crossover

Warnings: Crossover AU, many apects of the ending of Stranger Things season 4 were ignored for this. Eddie Munson moves to Chicago and gets adopted by meets the Barclays. Background Eddie x Reader (reader is named). Happy fic with an A Nightmare On Elm Street-like open ending.

Summary: Little Andy Barclay develops a peculiar fascination when he meets the boyfriend of his substitute babysitter, a neigbor from his building that keeps an eye on him whenever Maggie is unavailable. His mother is highly skeptical of him due to his strange attitude and threatening appearance, but Eddie's kindness of heart would end up surprising her.

Notes: The name I picked for the reader (Lily) i did because I wanted a flower name to match with Maggie and I really like that one. Also, the flower represents a few things in her characterization and plot function. Not intending to make it even more of a self insert or anything

Tags: @losersclubisms

The neighbors of the building were for most living immersed in their own problems and Karen didn’t expect anyone to care for hers. Being a prideful woman herself, she wouldn’t have seeked any support networks among them. There was not much on their part besides some volatile offerings during small talk that often sounded more like charity than friendly help born from true involvement. A kind young girl on the down floor was the only exception, she had been babysitting Andy from time to time since the first moment she had to leave him for a job interview. The deal was arranged as a spontaneous thing meant to last just for that occasion, but it kept repeating sporadically. The little boy responded well to her and his adorable sweetness won her over, so she felt more than happy to help. As their bond became more stable Karen insisted on offering her payment almost every single time, but she would end up accepting only a minimal fraction attempting to show she truly cared for her family untill she would understand it.

A cordial, reciprocal solidarity based friendship began to develop between both women. They were both struggling in their different ways, Lily didn’t have a good relationship with her mother and she would often come to her asking for advice on countless topics. From work problems to romantical advice, anything that would be floating around in her mind she would share it with her. Karen was quite concerned about the guy she was seeing, from the tales she heard he seemed quite eccentric and describing him like that would be an euphemism. It wouldn’t take much time for some of her guesses to be confirmed, since she got to meet him quite quickly as the relationship advanced.

If she would have come across him on the streets, his threatening looks would have probably scared her. The long haired young man dressed in black leather and jeans carrying tons of jewelry with strange symbols didn’t inspire her much trust. Even less the first words she heard him say overhearing the couple talking before they noticed her and her boy coming in close to them.

“ I’m going to keep taking you home, babe. I have reasons to be worried, there is a maniac on the loose! Well, another one besides me, of course. “ He joked, making the girl chuckle. “ How long do you think it’s going to take for local metal bands to catch up on that? Every impactufll psycho eventually gets their song."

“ Until police would catch him, I hope. “

Their conversation got inmediately interrupted by Andy's pure excitement.

" Hi Lily!!!" He happyly saluted, quickly catching attention before his mother could say anything. " Nice to see you!!"

Her expression was brightfull for the cute surprise.

" Andy!!! How are you, darling?"

He was all smiles before replying.

" Good, doing all kinds of stuff. "

The curious eyes of the kid were fixated on the man beside her, his attention focused in his unusual appearance.

In the meantime, Karen followed with more kind salutes.

" Good evening, dear. Excuse us for the intrussion. "

The young neighbor was happy to see her.

" You are never intruders, i have wanted to do the presentations from quite some time. "

" I handle it from here, sweetheart. " The man followed her. " A pleasure to meet you, from all I have heard I guess you must be Karen. I'm Eddie, and i have the honor of dating this lovely lass."

Andy chuckled, the self introduction somehow reminded him of a Robin Hood he saw in a puppet show.

He once more spoke in advance

" Hi, Eddie! I'm Andy!!!"

Eddie responded while offering him a handshake.

" Nice to meet you, Andy!!"

There was no glimpse of fear in the boy, only a strange fascination. He was paying attention to all the details in his jewelery, specially the rings.

" Woooow! What's that?"

The kid had clearly pointed one of the skull shaped ones.

" Well, it's how all of us look from the inside. When we die, that's what's left. "

The answer was too disturbing and it weirded the mother.

" That's enough, honey. We are going home. "

As the small family followed its route, Eddie still intended to apologise.

" Sorry, Mrs Barclay! i'm not a big fan of lying to kids, I will try to be less terrifying next time."

It was hard for her to understand what was that girl seeing in him. The first awkard interaction didn't do much for his reputation, but she would notice her so in love and the whole thing was a mistery to her.

However, her son was another story. The strange man must have caused a great first impact in him, because he wouldn't stop talking about him. Everytime his neighbor would be babysitting him, he would ask her about Eddie. When was he coming to see her?, What was he doing? and Could he come to play? where some of the most usual ones. At one given time it occured to him that they could call him and she had to invent some excuse to avoid indulging him. During their next cassual encounter in the building the metalhead was carrying his guitar and the kid wouldn't let him be. He even attempted to beg his mother if they could invite him for dinner so he could show him his music.

When he saw him for the fourth time Andy came to him for a hug and asked him if he would be his friend. Eddie looked at Karen, bright smile in his face caused by the shocking reaction of the child, indirectly asking for her approbation before giving any answers.

She couldn't refuse, not when her son seemed so happy. That didn't mean she wouldn't bombard Lily with questions about her boyfriend. She already knew they have in the record store where he worked, only job Karen imagined that would have allowed him to keep that style. Admitting she was understanding of why she would find him a bit rough arround the edges, her neighbor promised he would surprise her if she would give him time. His kind heart and sense of humor had her infatuated since the first date, she had no doubt more people would be able to see the good in him.

Watching an instant on any of the interactions he had with the boy was enough to make one suspect there had to be more about him than what meets the eye. Eddie had managed to connect with Andy in such an unique form. He seemed to understand him in ways no one else in his close circle did, they somehow related to each other. His impressive, highly developed imagínation was doing great as a developmental stimulation source for the little boy either while telling stories or playing games. Karen saw it happening by herself on his first short visits coming to pick up Lily after the babysitting. The positive impact on her child slowly began to change her mind about him.

The definitive step that seiled a start of true bonding between them happened spontaneously and with a very strange timing.

It was the morning of Andy's sixth birthday and facing her son's dissapointment with the gifts she could buy for him had crushed her. She brought him clothes and the only Good Guy brand set of toys she could afford. An accessory playset, while he wanted the doll meant to go with it. A good while after the present unboxing Andy got the first birthday call of the day. Their happy couple of neighbors wanted to give their salutes early and Karen pretended not to hear the sadness in her boy's voice while telling Eddie about his presents.

Minutes afterwards they were at their doorstep and the smiling metalhead was carrying a huge wrapped box. Karen couldn't believe her eyes and the disbelief was evident. To the ' no way' in her expression, Eddie's complicit mischievousness seemed to confirm her it was, Indeed, very possible. The pridefull smile of his girlfriend showed it was probably his idea. She knew which presents the mother was planning to get for the kid and probably just commented to her boyfriend about it before deciding what they were going to do.

" Good Morning, Karen! Where is the birthday boy? I have this thing my princess has been hidding for him in her appartment."

Andy rushed to the sound of his voice, but remained skeptical to the sight of the package.

" We tricked you, little buddy!!! Do you think your mom was going to leave the big one in plain sight?" Eddie cheerfully encouraged him to approach, pretending he was carrying the box for Karen. " This is all an elaborated scheme to surprise you. The little one Karen gave you is ours, we were hidding hers all along. "

It was enough to get the kid excited again.

" Really? Woooow!!!"

" We have no idea of what's inside, but it's kind of heavy." The man followed, exaggerating with his mannerisms the effort of carrying the box to later support it at the floor level." Why don't you take a look for me?"

The three adults remained expectant and when the kid ripped off the paper mother and son were one in the surprise.

" A Good Guy, I know it!!" Andy cheered towards her. " I knew you would get me one!!!"

Karen gave a side look to Eddie while he played the fool, comical fake innocence almost getting a chuckle from her.

It was unbelievable, the excuse was so perfectly crafted that she had no time to object before he presented the doll in her name.

" A Good Guy doll for the nicest kid in the neighborhood. " Eddie spoke because Karen couldn't. " It fits, ríght? Your mom is a genius."

Andy glanced at him for an instant and smiled, then rushed to hug her.

" Ohh, mom. Thanks!!"

" You are welcome, honey. " She lovefully replied. " but you should also thank Eddie and Lily for helping me hide it. Without them, the surprise wouldn't have been so great. Don't you think?"

The boy nodded affirmatively and kissed her cheek before following her suggestion.

" Happy Birthday, buddy!!!" Eddie cheered while receiving him. " Aren't you excited to play now?

" Thanks, Eddie! Will you play with me?"

The metalhead didn't hesitate in reassuring him.

" Sure I will, we are going to play such cool story games that Good Guy Show will want to hire me to write for them."

The boy's eyes were open wide and the excitement accompanied him when he gave the girl her time to be hugged.

" Thank you, Lily, for my friends. " He sweetly said to her and she understood the phrase implied two different things.

Convinced of the tale they told him, he was thanking her for hidding the doll with her. However, in his childish way he also tried to thank her for bring Eddie into his life.

" You are welcome, sunshine. " She inmediately responded. " I love them too. "

A silent instant of shared smiles completed the moment, then she tried to create a good excuse to get him occupied so her boyfriend and the mother would have their needed space to talk.

" Hey, Andy! The box says your new best friend needs batteries. I have a singing rabbit plushie at home, so I know how this things work. Wanna follow me so we can power up your buddy?"

He happyly obbeyed, leaving Karen free to interrogate Eddie.

" So, you finally learned how to lie to kids … You didn't have to do this. How the hell did it occur to you? Do you know how fucking expensive that thing is?"

He tried to ignore the fact that hearing her swear was kind of shocking.

" Hell i know, but I was sure Andy would want it. Good Guy Show is all he talks about and the ads are everywhere."

The answer frustrated her, he would say that as if she wasn't already aware of that.

" Why couldn't you just wait untill I would get one for him? "

" He would have never ask you directly, he knows you can't afford it."

The ríght guess in his thought process felt a bit too personal. It was one of those moments where Karen felt as if the man would be trying to prove he knew Andy better than her even when that wasn't his intention.

" And how exactly did you got it?"

It was an important question he trully didn't want to answer, even less to her accusatory tone.

" A magician never reveals his secrets, just enjoy the magic."

She was not in the mood for more of his jokes.

" Eddie, I'm being serious. You are an adult and I shouldn't mess with your spending, but i'm older than you and I can't just allow you to commit this act of financial irresponsibility without having a say. "

She was showing true concern for him, so he was at least going to give him some of his reasons. Seeking to make her understand so he wouldn't have to explain more Eddie opened up to her like never before.

" Listen, Karen. I come from a trailer park in a small town forgotten by God in some corner of Indiana. My uncle took me in on his own and it was just the two of us against the entire fucking town. I know how your son feels, he just wants a nice toy and a friend to play with. Believe it or not, I understand your powerlessness too because i saw it happening while growing up. If i can make it better for another struggling family, one that by the way I really care a lot about, I'll do it even if I have to go broke for it."

It was then when she got to discover he trully had a heart of gold, the breaking surprise her neighbor prophetized.

" I'm so thankfull, but please take care of yourself. " She tenderly nagged him while approaching for a hug. " I promise I will find a way to repay you. "

" You don't have to, but if you insist, just think of me if Ozzy adds concert dates near here on his next tour. "

It was a joke, he chuckled to let her know he was just messing with her.

Her son and his girlfriend returned to find her kindly fixing the loose locks of his messy hair.

Andy was happyly showing his unboxed doll.

" Mommy, mommy!!! Come to see this!!! "

The three adults silently shared their relief for the accomplishment.

Andy wasn’t completely unaware of the implicit secrecy around him despite not being sure of its reason. It made his smile acquire a shade of mischievousness, wondering if there was another surprise.

“ You tricked me again! ” He complained to the young man, slightly frustrated. “ How you do it?”

Before he could get to answer, Karen did it for him.

“ I invited him to your party, that’s the last surprise.” She announced, matter that was never discussed before. “ Lily can bring Eddie after work to play and have cake if that’s fine for them.”

Trying the doll was the only thing that could have possibly redirected the kid’s excitement after getting to hear that. Fascinated as he was with its startup phrase introducing itself as Chucky, he encouraged every single one of them to talk to it.

Chucky and Eddie were all he would be talking about for the rest of the day. Although his mom couldn’t be present for the occasion because work forced her to miss it, he would still comment on it with Maggie over and over. Best friend and coworker of Karen, she was his main babysitter and the most trustable emergency contact. Usually, the neighbor girl would come whenever she was unavailable.

They had met, so she was aware of her, but on the many times Andy would mention Eddie he referred to him as his friend and never specified he was the backup sitter’s boyfriend. In fact, the way he would speak of him didn’t differentiate him much from a child. Karen told her about the kind hearted lad showing up at her doorstep with the doll her son wanted, but the differential descriptions made her think she and Andy were talking of two different persons.

Opening the door for a threatening looking grownass man followed by his contrastingly sweet appearing girlfriend was not what she had in mind.

The visits were initially unaware of the change and, since they were hoping to find Karen, seeing someone else confused them too.

" Sorry, wrong place. "Maggie said as soon as she saw him, almost shutting the door if she wouldn't have recognized the girl beside him. " Is this guy coming with you? Look, Lily. Karen isn't home because Walter forced her to take other shift to cover up for someone else. I have been warned Andy is waiting for a friend to show up, but i will be fine on my own dealing with the two kids. "

The couple shared a few chuckles, unsure of how they were going to explain the hilarious misunderstanding.

" Well, if you think so i'll pick him up at nine. "The girl responded, acting on purpose as if she would be leaving a kid at the birthday party of his little friend. " Have fun, Eddie! Listen to Maggie and don't get yourself in trouble."

He followed the joke pretending child like excitement.

Maggie got the message, but was still quite shocked.

" So, this is Eddie … If you would hear the way that kid talks of you, you would get why I was waiting for a child."

" My teachers used to say i'm one in spirit as some flattering, euphemistical replace for inmature as fuck. " He mocked himself, trying to overcome the awkwardness. " I guess I should let you judge by yourself. "

She rolled her eyes and let both in.

" No swearing in front of the boy. If I hear one curse word coming from Andy, I'm going to know he got it from you. "

He smiled and did a gallant reverence before stepping in.

" Worry not, Margareth, for I will keep the manners of a knight."

Lily chuckled as he guided her inside to later kiss her knucles and do the same for Maggie.

" Calm down, Shakespeare. " She mocked him in return. " Don't piss me off and we are going to be fine. "

" I could never not behave accordingly in the presence of such lovely ladies. " He insisted, sticking to the character for a little bit. " Margareth and Lily, the most beautifull flowers on the little prince's garden. "

She amusedly ignored the compliment.

" Andy, you friend is here!!!!"

In a matter of instants the presence of Eddie revolutioned the home. The quiet playtime of the little boy was over, since the energy of the metalhead would incentivate him to go nuts. It literally finished turning the situation into something closer to a birthday party, music incluided. Aware that Andy was super curious about his guitar, he would have preferred to play something by himself. However, since Karen just started to like him and he guessed that would be too much for her, he límited himself to bringing a mixtape with the most palatable music for a general audiencie that he owned. When questioned about it, he simply said there was nothing on it heavier than Metallica mixed with some radio friendly hard rock.

Maggie stopped caring for his strange excuses once she saw Andy jumping all over the place to Led Zeppelin's ' Rock and Roll ' while holding his doll so he could pretend it was doing the same. He was acting like a happy kid on a birthday should despite that was happening in a very unconventional way. In fact, she wished she could have videotaped it for Karen to see. The hairstyle of the doll was completely ruined during Andy's attempts of making it replicate the movements of Eddie, who would also try to encourage everyone else to join them.

She got more material for her self deprecating and ironical dating jokes. When asked about it she could say that at least part of her night involved being dragged to move by a twenty somethings and out of context it would work.

The calm part of it was still full of games that were more intense than what she would have expected from Andy's usual playing behavior. He tried to show Eddie the way that the Good Guy Show lore pre imagined for him to play with Chucky, but the man kept challenging it.

" We are going to think outside the box here, Andy, … literally speaking. " He was kindly explaining his point. " The Playpal guys say Chucky has only six options depending on the accesories we can buy for him, but he can be anything we want if we dare to imagine it and we don't need any more sets for that. "

Sat on the floor ríght next to him and in front of the doll, the kid was observing it as if he had the most amazing realization.

" But we have the construction worker set, what else can we make him be?" He asked in a wondering tone. " What do you think ?"

" I don't know, but we can have fun figuring out. " Eddie followed him. " For example, with that flaming red hair and the hammer, I believe he could be a dwarven blacksmith who craftes magical weapons and beautifull jewelery. "

The idea seemed appealing to the kid simply because he made it sound way cooler.

" Mom sells jewelery, Chucky can make it for her. " Andy agreed. " Don't you, Chucky?"

Following the whole thing while trying to keep a conversation with Maggie, Lily was undone from tenderness feeling as if her heart would be about to explode holding all that love for Eddie. She couldn't help excusing herself and do an Intervention to help him out.

" We can make him look more dwarvish, we just have to make some little changes."

She attempted to transform Chucky into a fantasy dwarf using one of her boyfriend's bracelets as necklace for the doll and adding the touch of one of the pending chains from his pants circling the hip to represent a belt.

" I will add a few cool dwarvish braids in his hair and that's it." She pridefully informed. " He would be ready for forge work or battle. "

" He still needs a battle axe, but that one comes in the fireman playset. " Eddie joked, still admiring the work. " Be carefull with that, babe. Braiding hair is a marriage proposal gesture in his culture. "

Andy seemed quite surprised and she pretended to follow him for an instant.

" Well, I can play as Chucky's bride. Surely he will not mind."

" Over my dead body!!!" Eddie exaggerated on purpose, making the kid laugh. " I'm going to challenge him to a duel for your hand. "

" Andy should decide who I should marry, it's his birthday and you are his friends. What do you say, birthday boy?"

" I don't want them to fight. " He sweetly admitted. " Friends shouldn't fight."

Maggie couldn't help bursting into laughter many times while watching the madness escalate. Eddie convinced Andy of enacting the duel, but it ended up as playfull fighting between them while Lily finished braiding Chucky's hair.

Some of the fictional escenarios they were collectively coming up with were hard to follow, so the woman eventually got bored and sat on the couch to watch tv.

" Pardon me, Margareth, but we are in the middle of a quest to destroy a dark wizard and you are ruining the ambience!!" Eddie complained at some point. " Are you sure you don't want to be the wise witch guiding us? I'm offering you the coolest role."

He made her chuckle, she couldn't pretend to be upset anymore despite she would still make him a target of her sarcasm.

" That sounds great, but i think the dark wizard can wait untill after the cake. "

Once Andy blew the candles surrounded by happy cheering and had a piece of his cake he began to feel tired from all the exciting playing. Noticing it as well, Eddie explained him that they didn't have to complete the quest all in once. Relieved and happy, the boy finished the day with some of the standard playing with the construction set and his Good Guy back in the classical look. In the meantime, Eddie insisted in helping Maggie clean to compensate her for all the chaos of the night.

Bedtime was near when the little boy delivered one last weird occurence.

" Aunt Maggie, Chucky wants to watch the nine o clock news."

She shared complicit glances with Eddie as he pilled up the clean dishes that had to be saved, initially thinking Andy's plead was some joke to ignore the bedtime and keep playing with him.

"Sure, he does."

Lily tried not to chuckle, feeling almost sure of what the thing was about.

The news presenter mentioned the Lakeshore Strangler, Eddie's most recent fixation. He obviously wasn't talking about that with Andy, but he must have been aware of that because her boyfriend was talking about it with her the same day the kid meet him.

"Don't worry, sweetie. He can watch the repetition at twelve. " She tranquilized him in sweet whispers as Maggie approached. " You should go to rest."

His aunt turned off the tv and picked him up in order to carry him to the bedroom, while the substitute sitter carried Chucky a similar way. The kid obediently proceeded to go brush his teeth in the bathroom, when the sudden bombing of tv sound freaked them out.

Eddie was sitting on the couch, staring at them innocently like a child that tries to deny doing mischief.

“ I’m done with the chores … Can I watch the news, Aunt Maggie?” He pleaded by himself. “ It’s very important, I wouldn’t ask it otherwise. They are on the case I’m following.”

“ Again with that? “ Lily wondered out loud. “ Charles Lee Ray is dead. It 's over, love.”

“ His accomplice has escaped. “ He summarized for her. “ Police get the right Eddie this time and they let him escape. Can you believe it?”

“ Why is it such a big deal for you?” Maggie seriously asked him. “ The hell are you talking about?”

Following the conversation and remaining attentive to the screen was hard, especially because one of the women was in front of it. He didn’t want to explain his full reasoning, but she was cornering him so he had to say something.

“ I know it sounds creepy and I’m a total freak, just don't get upset with Andy. He must think that the Strangler is to me what the Good Guy show is to him, that’s why he said that. I never spoke about it with him, I swear. He must have overheard me and he just wanted to be nice. “

“ If you say so, I won’t deny it: you are a freak.” Maggie simply stated. “ … but you make that kid happy so I guess I have to get used to it.”

“ Eddie is not a weirdo obsessed with a killer just because his partner in crime has his same name, he has valid reasons to feel the way he does. “ His girlfriend interrupted, sweetly approaching to sit beside him. “ There was a series of ritualistic murders happening in his old town and the people wrongfully targeted him and his friends just because they looked suspicious to them. When things seem to work out, he moves here trying to leave everything behind and some guy starts doing a similar thing. He was terrified of being targeted by the police all over again, he would be trying to hide it from me through silly dark jokes.”

He was very thankful of not having to explain the situation himself, unsure of how to present it in a way that wouldn’t ruin things.

“ I elaborated an exhaustive list of reasons proving I could never be the Strangler just in case they would come to interrogate me, if there was going to be a second time I wanted to be ready.”

“ Holy shit, that’s terrible!” Maggie exclaimed, feeling truly sorry for him. “ I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to be blamed for a crime I didn’t commit. Did they eventually catch the guy?”

“ I like to believe I helped to serve justice somehow.” He vaguely explained. “ Charles Lee Ray was the most faithful reflection of everything people said I was, I felt relieved when they identified him as the Lakeshore Strangler and I followed his case intensely because I wanted to feel sure cops weren’t fucking up again. The dude who was shot in a toy store last night wasn’t an unlucky scapegoat and nobody will be coming after me again saying I’m a killer for the way I dress, the game i play or the music I listen to.”

Maggie stopped obstructing the screen.

“ I was kind of a bitch to you, sorry for that. You may be weird, but I can tell you are a great guy.”

The recognition got a genuine smile from him.

“ No problem, I’m used to it.”

“ I tell him all the time that I feel lucky to have him, but he says I’m insane.” Lily continued, seeking to cuddle from her position beside him. “ He is wonderful, maybe I’m a bit guilty of trying to make the world love him as much as I do.”

He gave her a soft peck on the lips and they smiled at each other before he proceeded to share bits of their story.

“ I love this woman from the very first moment she smiled at me after having asked me for the dullest hair metal record that she wanted to buy mostly for the power ballad single. She was so lovely, I became a mess and I couldn’t care less for my artistic principles. For her I ended up listening to that damn Whitesnake record during the in-between dates time, closing my eyes to think of her to Is This Love because I knew she loved that one and I was becoming a lovesick fool.”

Their tenderness was very surprising to the woman observing them.

“ Girl, I’m going to end up asking you for dating advice.” Maggie mocked them, that time with plenty of good intentions. “ Should I start attending metal concerts?”

“ We are on the same page, I follow Karen’s. “ She honestly replied. “ Well, except for that one time I didn’t and I kept dating him.”

The women chuckled and kept chatting, but he missed most of it because he got lost in his own thoughts while the heat of his girlfriend’s body was relaxing him. Eddie’s imagination was starting to connect the dots in many strange coincidences surrounding him and the story he intended to follow. Lee Ray and Caputo were partners in crime named exactly the same as Andy’s partners in playing. From the many names the Good Guys could have, the one he got for the kid was a Chucky and Chucky was short for Charles. The serial killer was shot by police in a toy store, last hideout resource when his friend abandoned him.

“ Hey, handsome. It’s your mind on the moon again?” Lily teased him sweetly, noticing he got very distracted. “ What’s wrong?”

“ I’m gonna write the song, babe … and I know what I’m going to do.” He revealed, with determination. “ I’m going to write about the killer from the point of view of his friend, and it's going to be wrapped in a metaphor about childhood. Andy just inspired it to me, you know? We have a Chucky and I’m an Eddie … that ‘ My best friend Chucky ’ thing. It 's perfect! “

“ What do you mean?” She stopped him before the rambling could escalate because she wanted to follow him. “ Slow down and share it.”

“ Chucky IS Chucky.” He replicated with excitement. “ Chucky is short for Charles, so doll Chucky is my metaphor for dude Chucky and Eddie is his best buddy. Committing crimes is like playtime for them, until the police arrive. Waking up from the fantasy of their murder spree is like growing up. Eddie becomes aware of the consequences and trying to escape those he leaves Chucky behind to die in the fucking toy store like a forgotten toy. “

It was a bit too much, but she was quite impressed anyway.

“ It’s … twisted, but brilliant! And you are going back to writing! That’s good, I’m just so happy that Andy managed to inspire you somehow.”

“ Are you planning to launch your musical career with a lawsuit from Playpals? Because that’s what you are going to get. “ Maggie warned him. “ Just try to keep yourself out of trouble, allright?”

The casual demonstration of concern was well received by him.

“ Yes, Aunt Maggie!”

They intended to stay until Karen would return, but Maggie told them over and over that she was going to be alright on her own and they didn’t have to. They were going to be in the building anyways, so if she needed anything she could just call them and they would be there for her.

Lily seemed uneasy, there was something else her boyfriend hadn't discussed with her and coming down from all the excitement surrounding them once they were back in her apartment made her aware of it.

“ Where did you get the doll, Eddie?” She questioned him. “ I had no money for it, as far as I know you didn’t have it … So where did it come from?”

The ask was very rational, but at that point he would have preferred to avoid it.

“ Why does it matter? Andy is happy and Karen will not have to lose all her savings for it.”

“ It matters to me because I’m afraid you could have endangered our friends “

She meant she feared he could be messing himself and others into something illegal and she had a point.

“ It was alley money for a clean doll, alright? I got rid of the last shit I had left and with what I got from those sales I bought him a brand new doll from the store.” He finally confessed. “ I paid in cash so there is no way to track it, just don’t tell Karen. “

There was no inmediate reaction, but when it came, her reply was way deeper than a moral objection.

“ Andy told me something very curious today when we were unpacking the doll from the box. I kept calling it his best friend because that’s the slogan of the brand, but he corrected me. He said Chucky is not his best friend, you are.”

She held his hand holding back tears.

“ If something happens to you, it would crush that kid. I want you to take care of yourself and I’m not even doing it for us, but for him. He already lost his dad, he can’t lose you in the most shitty way possible.”

Eddie hugged her and began to caress her hair in a calming way.

“ Easy, princess. it’s going to be ok, nothing bad will come to them or to us.”

For once in his life, that seemed to be true. With some ups and downs, but things were working out. He had a day job that didn’t suck while he could still keep working on his music, a wonderful girlfriend and one more friendship with a kid bringing out the best of him. Aware of Andy’s frustration for wanting to get little friends of his age, Eddie was slowly starting to teach him how to socialize in the way of the weird kids. He would constantly tell him about his younger friend from Hawkins who had three friends to play with since many years before meeting him. In some ways, he could be blamed for talking too pridefully about Dustin presenting him and his experience as the horizon for lonely freaky kids. To be fair, he would also comment with excitement to Dustin about the baby steps the little boy was making from time to time on their phone calls.

His first visit was an important event for everyone involved.By that point Andy had heard so many amazing stories about him that he hero worshiped Dustin despite the teenager was initially unaware of it.

" You are completely sold to that cute little brat, it is unbelievable. " Dustin concluded in whispers after observing an interaction between his friend and the kid for the first time. " I finally understand how Steve felt when I befriended you. "

Andy couldn't hear the talk because he was distant enough from them searching for some thing he desperatedly wanted to show them.

" We are lucky he isn't here. He would loose his shit over how tiny and cute that kid is, Msrs Barclay would never get rid of him."

They laughed because of how accurate that sounded to both.

" Karen could use one more free babysitter. " Eddie concluded. " C'mon, Dustin! I can't believe you are jealous of a six year old kid. "

" Well, he says you are his best friend and i thought WE were best friends. "

They were just messing with each other, but he still wanted to give him a good reminder of how important their friendship was.

" I owe you everything, you are practically my little brother. "

Eddie hugged him ríght away and Dustin chuckled through it.

" Don't try to make me tear up!"

Briefly afterwards Andy returned proudly holding a piece of paper.

" I made this for you. " He explained to Dustin while handing him the paper. " … and your friends. "

A drawing, classical little kid present. The teenager managed to distunguish at least four human figures in it surrounded by strange shit that was coming after them.

He smiled, unsure of what to say, so Andy provided a clarification.

" It's you fighting the monsters with them."

" Did you told him about the Upside Down? " He asked to Eddie, midly panicking. " How much does he know? "

" Chill, Karen and Maggie think is just nice tales I tell him. " Eddie defended himself. " Andy knows you are a hero."

Without any gestural warning the little boy rushed to hug Dustin.

" I want to fight monsters with my friends like you. "

The kid managed to awake his sentimental fiber.

" I wish you and the friends you will make will never have to, Andy. "

They all were awaiting for more introductions to be made. Since Eddie was introducing Dustin, Andy wanted them to meet the very first friend he managed to make in school. Lily was in charge of bringing him in, acting as trusting sitter and bridge between both families.

Eddie was particularly excited about it, from all comments he had heard the child was an old school freak in the making. He was a loner with an interest in fantasy and a labelled troublemaker.

The first impression didn't dissapoint.

" Nice shirt." The kid complimented him ríght away, pointing at the Iron Maiden cover art in the shirt Eddie was wearing." Great taste. "

" Aren't you a bit young to know what this is?"

The questioning didn't bother him in the slightlest.

" Is she your girlfriend? "

" Yeah, she is. " Eddie confirmed. " She is Andy's sitter and i heard she will become yours soon too because everyone else has given up. "

He smiled at her, then replied.

" … I like her. "

" Well, Lily is lovely so I can't blame you. " The metalhead added before introducing himself. " it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Eddie. "

The boy was laughing, a bone chilling cackle that threw everybody off.

" What should I do with your Good Guy, sweetie?" Lily asked him, trying to overcome the awkward moment. " I wouldn't want to mix both by mistake, Andy has a Chucky too. "

#stranger things #child's play #eddie munson #andy barclay #karen barclay #maggie peterson #dustin henderson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things and chucky crossover

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 9

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 7/28/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “He says he’s a friend from New York.”

The next day, I had to go into the office for a few meetings with staff to catch up on where they were with their accounts. I was actually happy about this because I knew it would be a good distraction. I threw my blow-dried wavy hair up into a loose updo, applied a small amount of make-up, and I got dressed in a black pencil dress and blazer. Then headed out the door for my short commute.

Around eleven fifteen, my office phone rang. I heard my assistant, Kerrie, yell that it was Lauren. I picked the phone up.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to me?” I said as I answered.

“Don’t be silly. Also, I love your new assistant. I think we’re going to be besties. So, I was thinking…we should go grab some lunch.”

“Well, I’m happy you feel that way and it sounds like I need to tell her to ignore your number when it pops up.”

Lauren laughed.

“As for lunch, I don’t have enough time to go out. I have a meeting at 1:00.”

“Boooo. You suck. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

Before I could answer, Kerrie walked into my office, leaving the door slightly ajar. Her eyes were wide with a shocked look on her face. She was doing a small wave with her hands to get my attention.

“Hold on Lauren, what is it, Kerrie?”

“Umm, there is a gentleman here asking if you’re free for lunch?”

“A gentleman?” I said, confused.

“He says he’s a friend from New York.”

“A friend from New York?” I said, still confused.

She watched the realization set in on my face. I momentarily lost my words. She leaned over toward me and whisper-yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him!” Meanwhile, I could hear Lauren on the phone asking very loudly who was here. She had clearly pieced it together from the tone of her voice.

I sat motionless, feeling my heart rate pick up. My breathing turned shallow as I broke out into a sweat. I shook my head from side to side and took a deep breath trying to pull myself together.

“Get rid of him. I can’t, I have a meeting.” I said sternly.

I heard Lauren shouting from the phone, “NO! What the hell are you doing! GO WITH HIM!”

Kerrie stood stunned, surprised at my answer. “I can reschedule it for you. It’s just Steve.”

“No. I can’t go.”

Kerrie didn’t move.

“Is there a problem? Handle it please.” I said out of frustration.

Lauren was still yelling nonsense on the phone while Kerrie just stared at me, shaking her head.

“I can’t tell him no,” she whispered with a stubborn look on her face.

The door started to inch open further as Dieter slowly walked in, immediately noticing the phone a few inches from my ear. My eyes met his. He paused and mouthed “sorry” once he realized he was potentially interrupting something. Kerrie��s head swiveled back and forth between us, waiting for someone to say something. I could feel my face tighten and my brows draw together. I’m pretty sure I looked pissed more than anything, but it was actually pure panic. Dieter instantly looked beyond nervous. Lauren was still yelling on the phone, asking me what was happening. I was suddenly feeling over-stimulated between the three of them and couldn’t focus. I put the phone all the way back to my ear.

“Shut up. I’ll call you back.”

I could hear her telling me I better talk to him as I moved the phone away to hang it up.

I looked away from him, lowering my head. I noticed my hands were starting to shake. I gripped the arm rest of my chair tightly in an effort to make them stop.

“What are you doing here?” I said in a rather assertive tone, trying to keep it together. I glanced back up at him. He looked like he was about to say something, but snapped his mouth shut. My tone had taken him off guard. He glanced over at Kerrie, looking slightly panicked himself.

“Mr. Bravo stopped in to see if you’re available for lunch.”

I gave her a pointed look.

“I have a meeting, so no, I can’t. I’m sorry.” I replied as I looked back over to him.

“Steve actually requested to reschedule it earlier this morning. I just haven’t updated your calendar yet.”

My eyes darted back toward Kerrie. She gave me a wicked smile before continuing.

“So, you’re actually free for the next two and a half hours.”

I exhaled, then touched the fingers of my right hand to the side of my right eye that had started to twitch.

“Ok, thank you for that update, Kerrie. I guess I’m going out to lunch then. I’ll be back shortly.” My tone was clipped. I gave her a tight smile, dismissing her. She continued to give me a wicked grin as she walked out of the office, leaving Dieter and I alone.

We sat in silence for a moment, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t know what to say to him. This whole situation had caught me off guard and I was not handling it well at all. Yet I still managed to notice how amazing he looked in his dark fitted jeans and black t-shirt. He had sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have called instead of just showing up.”

I continued to stare at him, unblinking.

“I mean, I did try to call several times, but I chickened out and hung up on whoever answered.” he added, sheepishly.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, reached down to grab my purse and phone, and walked toward the door.

“Come on. Let’s go,” was the only response I was able to give him.

I walked down the hallway, noticing several of the ladies staring.

“Don’t you all have work to do.” I said loudly, looking around as I walked through. They quickly pretended to busy themselves while giving sideways glances.

Dieter was following behind me as we went toward the back exit to the staff parking area. When I pushed the door open, Aubrey stepped back from the outside of the door to let me exit. I walked out and her eyes immediately shot up to Dieter, then back to me with a questioning look.

“I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back at some point,” I said dismissively, walking past without really looking at her. I heard Dieter give a polite hello as he walked past, still following closely behind my brisk pace.

I walked over to my vehicle, hitting the unlock button on the handle twice to unlock both doors, then we both got in.

I started the car, then sat there for a moment and sighed.

“I have a feeling I’m going to face an inquisition when I get back.”

Dieter let out a small laugh, but then stifled it, like he wasn’t sure if it was ok to laugh at it.

“Did you have a place in mind you wanted to go to?” I asked him quietly. I stared out of the front window. Not really looking at anything. Trying hard to keep my breathing calm.

“No. I mean I noticed a place down on the corner if you want to go nearby.”

“I’m not going there.” I said, still staring out the front window. I could feel him looking at me. I slowly turned my head to look at him, not exactly meeting his eyes. I couldn’t.

“I know the owner. I got him fired from his previous place of employment, unintentionally. The company downsized on my recommendation. He doesn’t like me much.”

“Oh…it sounds like hanging out with you might be kind of dangerous,” he said, laughing nervously.

He was trying to ease the tension, but I was so wound up, that wasn’t going to happen. I just gave him a small smile and put the car in reverse.

I picked a small cafe about 10 minutes away that typically wasn’t very busy at this time of day. Lauren and I were regulars, so we usually got pretty good service. They let us sit out on the small back patio that was enclosed by tall hedges. We were the only ones sitting outside, which was probably a good thing, because I didn’t know what was about to happen.

I reverted to old habits, ordering a Long Island Iced tea, water, and a salad with grilled chicken. I had a feeling that I was going to need some liquid courage to get through this conversation. Once we finished ordering and got our drinks, we were silent for a few minutes. Neither of us really knowing where to start. I could feel that my jaw was clenched, I could only imagine what my face looked like. He finally broke the silence.

“Look, I’m sorry I just showed up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“How did you even know where I worked?”

“Google.”

“I never even told you my last name.”

“I.. I saw it on your security badge. I-It was on your nightstand. I swear I wasn’t snooping or anything.”

I shook my head up and down, I had no argument with that. It has been out in plain view.

His hands caught my attention. They were bigger than I remembered, but the feel of them was still ingrained in my memory. He had the fingers on both hands tracing the grooves on the glass of his drink. He was obviously anxious too. Without thinking about it, my hand went up to my collar bone and started rubbing as I looked around. This was so fucking awkward. He broke me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand and pulling it to the table. I looked at his hand sitting atop of mine, then pulled mine away gently, sitting it in my lap.

“Did I do something to make you mad in New York? I don’t understand why you’re acting so pissed at me.”

I propped my elbows on the table, putting my fingers on either side of my temple, rubbing, with my eyes shut. I sat like that for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts before answering.

“I’m not mad at you. You did absolutely nothing wrong. I’m just…kind of on autopilot mode right now… trying to keep myself in check. You did catch me off guard showing up at my office. You’re the last person I expected to walk through that door today.”

I opened my eyes to look at him and our eyes met for the first time since leaving the office. I noticed the sadness was there again and he looked like he hadn’t slept well in some time. I felt even more guilt for treating him so badly today. I continued speaking.

“I didn’t have time to prepare for this, so my anxiety kind of spiked on me because I didn’t know what to expect given everything that happened. This is just me trying to manage it. I actually feel like shit for not reaching out to you afterwards. I completely ghosted you; I know.”

“Honestly, that makes me feel a lot better. The way you were looking at me when I walked in, I thought you wanted to rip my head off. I think I officially got the full dose of the ‘fucking scary’ side of you.” He chuckled at himself. I finally broke a smile too, which caused him to visibly relax some.

“I’m sorry, I know, I really do need to work on that. My face kind of has a mind of its own though.” I shrugged.

“So do you want to talk about why you ghosted me?”

“That’s a little more complicated…”

The waiter appeared at that time to drop off our food and refill our drinks. After he walked back inside, Dieter picked up the conversation.

“I’ll be the first to admit that whatever that was in New York freaked me out a little. I’ve never experienced something that…intense before. Honestly, when I didn’t hear from you initially, I was kind of relieved.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, trying to figure out where this was going. He noticed the look on my face.

“BUT, after a few days, I was actually a little hurt by it. I felt like we…I dunno…maybe it's a delusion, but I felt like we connected. You know what I mean?”

I continued to stare at him, trying to digest what he was saying. My face giving nothing away. He looked down at his glass before he continued.

“At the same time though, I’m not sure I’m in a place that I can process and deal with whatever that was. At least I definitely wasn’t at the time. I felt like my fucking soul had been ripped out of me and laid bare in front of you. It was a lot for me and something I just wasn’t prepared for or have ever experienced.”

He understood it more than I ever thought he could. He felt it too. I could feel my chest tightening as my eyes fought to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. I took a deep breath reaching up to grab one of his hands away from his glass. He relaxed further and I immediately felt better as a result.

“Dieter, I…I actually get it. You put that into words better than I ever could have. I felt the same way. It was…overwhelming and scared me too. I think that’s the biggest reason I just left it all in New York. I couldn’t process it. I was seriously so fucked up at that point from my marriage, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. And to be clear, hooking up with random people is not something I have ever done before, so I was a little shocked and embarrassed at myself for that.”

“I was a little shocked at myself too because that isn’t something I do on the regular either. I was worried you thought I was a big man whore after that.”

“Why, because you’re currently one of the biggest celebrities in the world right now and could have any woman you wanted at any time?”

He sucked in air between his teeth and gave me a tight smile.

“So, you figured that out huh?” He laughed nervously.

“Hard to miss your face plastered all over billboards.”

“I’m sorry, I should have been honest about that. I was kind of thrilled by the idea of someone not knowing who I was. It helped me feel a little more at ease with you.”

“I figured. I won’t hold that against you.” I smirked at him.

“So how are you doing these days,” he asked.

“Well, I’m still kind of a mess, but I’m better than I was. I’m still working on things though.”

“Same.”

We sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of what to do with that information. I had to admit to myself that it was good to see him and good to know that he wasn’t mad at me. I watched him for a moment as he released my hand and started to shuffle his food around, my mind playing through all the scenarios this situation could lead to. I was more open to some of them than I would have thought. Dieter raised his head, giving me a questioning look.

“What’s going through that mind of yours right now?”

I gave a small laugh, “What isn’t?”

I leaned my head into my hand that was propped on the arm of my chair and shook my head, inhaling deeply. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Dieter smiled back at me; he looked as deep in thought as I was.

“How about we just start over? Try to forget about New York. Clearly neither of us are really in a place for anything too serious, but that doesn’t mean we can’t just be friends. Right?” he asked.

“You’re seriously going to be able to forget about what happened in New York?” I asked with doubt in my voice and a small smile on my face.

“Well, no. It’s impossible. Those images aren’t going anywhere, but I can behave myself and just be here for you. However you’ll have me.”

I laughed at him. At least he was honest. I wasn’t going to be able to get those images out of my head either.

“Do you think we can really be ‘just friends’ after that?”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life. It’s a feeling I can’t shake, and I think we can be good for each other. If it means it’s just as friends, then fine. I’m cool with that. I honestly didn’t expect anything more and I would love to have at least one friend that’s supportive of me getting my shit together.”

“Alright, so we’re gonna do the friend thing then,” I agreed. Feeling a sense of relief and a little excitement at the thought of him being a constant in my life. He did have a way of making me feel more relaxed. He nodded in agreement.

“So can you text me your number now?” he asked with a smirk on his face and a playful glint in his eyes.

“About that…I actually deleted your number as soon as I got on the plane in New York.”

I covered my face with one of my hands, then gave him an apologetic look through my fingers. He feigned shock.

“I knew if I didn’t, I would’ve called you,” I added.

“Damn, you are ruthless. You didn’t even give it a few days,” he said in disbelief as he shook his head at me. Then he reached over to pick up my phone, quickly held it up in front of my face to unlock it, then went to typing as I gave him a dirty look.

“Excuse you.” I said as he started to laugh, eyes crinkling as he did so.

“I’m putting my number in your phone again.”

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.

“I’m also making sure I have your number this time. No more ghosting.”

“Oh, trust me, I can still ghost your ass if I wanted to,” I said laughing.

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

The remainder of our lunch was filled with jokes and laughter. It was almost like we picked up where we left off, minus the flirting and sex. I was acutely aware that this was meant to be a friendship and I wanted to be cognizant of that line. I couldn’t cross it again.

Once we finished eating, we drove back to my office. He walked me to the back entrance, then stopped.

“Is it ok to give you a hug?” he asked timidly. I laughed at him and nodded yes. He wrapped his arms around me completely, pulling me in close. His face was in my hair, and I could tell he inhaled deeply. I wrapped my arms around his back and buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. We stayed like that for a minute, before he kissed the top of my head, then pulled away. Our actions always saying what our words wouldn’t. We had missed each other, more than either of us would like to admit.

He smiled at me before turning to leave. “I’ll text you later this evening,” he yelled as he walked away. I watched him jog across the street to where his vehicle was parked. Once he reached his car, I went inside.

When I walked in, Aubrey and Kerrie were standing in the reception area. They paused and looked at me. They had been watching us through the window. I could tell they wanted to ask me a million questions. I stared at them and rolled my eyes.

“He is just a friend. Don’t get any crazy ideas.”

“That hug lasted a little longer than socially acceptable for a friend,” Aubrey said with a smirk on her face.

“He’s a friend I haven’t seen in a while,” I shrugged.

From the looks on their faces, you could tell they didn’t believe me.

“Anyway, I have things to do, so excuse me,” I said, walking to my office.

My last few afternoon meetings dragged on painfully slow. Through all of them, Lauren was texting me, asking for updates. She was going to be mad that I made her wait all day. It was driving her insane.

When I pulled into the driveway around five, Lauren was there waiting on me. I should’ve figured. I just laughed to myself and shook my head. I pulled into the garage as she got out of her car and followed me inside. I smiled at her and gave her a quick “hi” as she stared at me expectantly. I didn’t say anything else as I walked inside and sat my things down, keeping my phone in my hand. I went to the kitchen and pulled one of those cold coffee drinks out of the refrigerator and offered her one. She was still staring at me expectantly and did not respond.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked her, with a sarcastic tone.

“You have GOT to be kidding me. Come on, out with it! What happened?”

My phone pinged in my hand, and I glanced down at it without answering her. I chuckled, seeing the name that popped up. He didn’t list his number under his name. He put it under “Guy from the Bar”. I unlocked my phone to read his message, still ignoring Lauren.

DIETER: You home from work yet?

ME: I’m sorry, I am not sure which guy from this bar this is. Can you clarify?

DIETER: You’re HILARIOUS. Figured I would get creative to make it harder for you to delete as soon as I was out of sight.

ME: Now who’s the funny one…but to answer your question, yes, I’m at home.

DIETER: Can I call you? I hate texting.

ME: Yes.

I glanced up at Lauren who was looking at me like I had three heads.

“What is happening right now?” she asked. I smiled and shrugged as I walked toward the table to sit down. My phone rang and I answered.

“Hello mysterious stranger from the bar,” I said with a laugh. I could hear him chuckling and I felt it to my core. I was getting butterflies.

“Hello. What are you up to?”

“I am sitting here with Lauren, who looks like she wants to choke me because she has no idea what’s going on.”

He laughed again while Lauren flipped me the bird as she sat down in front of me.

“Who is that?” she mouthed to me. I waved my hand at her dismissively. She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and eyed me grumpily.

“So, does Lauren know about me?”

“Yes, somewhat. She knows we met in New York. She’s the one I was on the phone with when you came into my office today.”

Lauren smacked her hand on the table with force while saying, “I KNEW IT” very loudly. Dieter heard her and started laughing again.

“That makes sense, I was wondering who you told to shut up.”

We both laughed at my earlier behavior.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow evening? Want to hang out?”

“Well, Lauren and I usually have dinner and hang out on Fridays.”

Lauren perked up, “Invite him over, I wanna meet him,” she whisper-yelled at me. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that or not. I gave her a warning look.

“What did she say?” he asked, chuckling.

“She wants me to invite you over to hang out with us. Do you think you can handle that? I’m warning you; she’s probably going to interrogate you.”

“I think I can handle it. What time?”

“We usually eat around six, but you can come earlier if you want. She usually helps cook or just hangs out until it’s ready.”

“Cool. I’ll do that. Can’t wait to meet Lauren. I think she and I will get along great.”

“Yeah, that’s my concern,” I said laughing. “You two better not gang up on me. I can see it happening already.”

They both laughed.

“Well, I’ll let you go since you have company, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Can I bring anything?

“Just yourself.”

“Alright, text me your address. See you tomorrow.”

“Will do, bye.”

After I hung up, I sent him a quick text with my address. Lauren was still eyeing me.

“So are you going to tell me what happened? Clearly it went well.”

“Just so we’re clear, he and I are only friends. Starting over. So, no suggestive jokes about me and him ok? I don’t want this to be weird.”

“Just friends? Really? Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

She rolled her eyes at me and laughed.

“What are you gonna wear tomorrow?”

She was gauging my reaction. I shrugged.

“I don’t know, something comfortable. Let’s keep things chill. I’m not trying to impress the guy. Pretty sure I already did that.”

I gave her a wicked smile at my joke.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now. Ok. I like the funny you. Keep those coming.”

My phone pinged with a text message and Lauren saw the name pop up. She started laughing.

“Is that him?”

“Yes, he said that’s how he put his name in my phone so it would be harder for me to find and delete it as soon as he was out of sight.”

She continued to laugh as I opened the message to check it. It was a screenshot of a map with directions. I stared at it for a minute, my brows knitting together, slightly confused. Another message came through.

DIETER: You literally live four streets over from me.

ME: No fucking way.

DIETER: Apparently so. LOL

ME: That isn’t weird at all.

Lauren was looking at my confused expression. I sat my phone down.

“I don’t think I want to tell you this.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because you’re going to start going on about fate or whatever again.”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to let it go. I sighed, before giving a slight chuckle.

“He lives four streets over from me.”

“I can’t believe you all haven’t run into each other before now. I’m telling you, read the signs woman. The ‘powers that be’ have a plan.”

I shook my head, “Stop that.”

I got up and started straightening up the kitchen some. I should probably give the rest of the house a quick once over, I thought. Lauren got a text as I was running through everything I needed to do. She stood up saying she had to go, mumbling something about having to close the shop that evening because somebody’s kid was sick. As she was leaving, she mentioned how she couldn’t wait to meet her new bestie tomorrow and was looking forward to giving me hell. I gave her the bird as she pulled the door shut behind her, cackling loudly.

I spent the rest of the evening cleaning and prepping for the following day. I had to admit that I did feel nervous about him coming to my house. There was something so personal about him being in my space. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing where they live. I wondered what he would learn about me.

Even though I tried to play it cool with Lauren about what I was going to wear, I was completely stressed about it. I finally settled on dark denim shorts, a white tank, with a loose fit light purple long-sleeved mesh top. It was casual, but cute.

Around ten, I finally decided to call it a night and settled down in bed to watch some TV. Soon after, my phone pinged with a text message.

DIETER: Wanted to send you a quick good night message. Friends can do that, right? Can’t wait to see what you’re cooking for me tomorrow.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I wasn’t sure how well this ‘just friends’ thing was going to work out, given our history, but we needed it to. At least for now.

ME: Pretty sure that is acceptable for friends to do…good night. Make sure you rest up. You’ll need it for the interrogation that is sure to come.

He sent me back a thumbs up and a sleeping face emoji.

I laughed at him before setting my phone down. I set the TV timer and turned my nightstand light off. It didn’t take long before I was out.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl

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voraciousvore · 5 months

Text

Giganterra (Chapter 14)

^ King Richard with Millie

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (13) | Next (15)

Content Warning: NSFW/18+!! Non-consensual sex, graphic descriptions of violence/ gore/ blood!

Word Count: 3.2k

------ Chapter 14: Perversion ------

“Please don’t take me back to him,” Candy begged, fueled by pure desperation. “I’ll do anything! He’s a monster, he’ll-”

“Ugh, shut up already,” Chef Gore groaned, squishing the small woman with his fat sausage fingers. He touched his index finger to her head and pushed her deeper into his palm to make her quiet. It was inconvenient enough that he had to deliver her to the king and interact with the creepy brute, without a human with a shrill, irritating voice whining incessantly like a buzzing mosquito in his ear. She was giving him a headache. He scratched his red beard and frowned.

Candy went silent, shriveling up in the hollow of the giant’s hand as she was trapped by the tangle of his thick, rough fingers. She didn’t have much time to stew in her despair, because the big grumpy chef reached the king’s quarters all too soon. His massive, menacing guard stood watch at the door, as always.

“I have the king’s new favorite here,” Gore grunted. “Could you just... deliver her for me, so I don’t have to?” He plucked at his beard as the bigger, muscular giant looked him up and down with his only functional eye. Finally, Ajax held out his hand and the chef readily dumped the human off with him and hurried back to the kitchen. Candy yelped as coarse fingers closed around her. His hands were even bigger and rougher than the chef’s. She could feel every ridge and callus on skin made abrasive by countless years of training and combat.

He lumbered over to the king’s domicile and knocked with a fist as large and uneven as a boulder. “Come!” King Richard’s deep voice called from within. The fine hairs rose on Candy’s nape.

“Your Majesty,” the guard boomed in his bass voice as he opened the door and bowed. Hardon was laying in bed, with Millie still huddled up on his belly. Her dress had been removed, so she was as bare as Candy, and the king himself was shirtless and only covered by his comforter at the waist and below. Ajax offered the girl to the giant king, whose lips peeled back into a lecherous leer. Candy squeaked with fear and blindly bolted, despite having nowhere to run, but he snatched her out of Ajax’s hand with enthusiasm.

“That will be all, Ajax,” Hardon proclaimed. The guard gave another small bow of acknowledgement as he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Candy began to wail as she gazed up into the repulsive man’s face and perceived just how screwed she was.

“It’s alright, darling,” the giant cooed, petting her lustrous hair with his thumb. “I’m not going to eat you now. What’s your name?”

“C-C-C-Candy,” she stuttered. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“Aww, what a perfect name! A sweet name for a sweet little lady.” His tone was soft and sultry, which creeped Candy out even more. He continued to intrusively explore her body with his fingers as he spoke, giving her goosebumps. “You don’t need to be frightened of me, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you.” His malicious grin full of fearsome, glistening teeth contradicted his honeyed words, but Candy was too scared to protest.

“Anyway, it’s time for bed. I’d like a goodnight kiss, my little cupcake,” The giant lifted her to his lips and pressed them against her naked skin. Candy cried out with instinctive fear, the memory of being eaten alive still fresh in her mind, and wriggled her arms to get away. The king’s eyebrows knitted together with dissatisfaction, but fortunately for Candy he was in a forgiving mood.

“When I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. Candy stiffened, her heart bludgeoning her ribs.

“I-I’ll be happy to, Your Majesty!” Millie piped up from her perch on his belly. She was perspiring with stress as she strained to avoid calamity. She didn’t want to see the new girl get hurt out of ignorance.

“Ah, Millie, my cherished girl! I knew I could count on you!” the giant praised with glee, sweeping her into his palm. She dutifully pecked his giant lip, repressing a grimace. He nibbled her with his lips, and couldn’t resist giving her a small lick to imbibe her unique vanilla flavor. “Millie... my beloved... you’ll teach my new pet everything she needs to know, yes? Train her so she understands how I like it?”

“You can count on me, Your Majesty,” Millie agreed, patting his lip with her hand. “Show her, with your great spirit, how forgiving and magnanimous you can be... please?”

King Richard hummed. “Hmmmm... I suppose I can oblige...” He stroked her again with his tongue playfully as he felt her up with his fingers. “I’ll do it for my best girl.” Candy experienced a wave of nausea as she observed the disturbing display. She restrained her urge to vomit as the king snuffed out his lamp and placed the two ladies on his vast chest, layered with hair. He covered them with his colossal hand like a tent, weighing them down.

“Sweet dreams, my cute little love bugs,” the giant purred. His rich voice rumbled through his chest as he spoke. Candy, with her head pressed to his warm skin, winced. She struggled to quell her rising panic as she was sandwiched between his huge, heavy hand and his chest, which thumped and expanded with his heartbeat and breathing. The sounds reminded her of the horror of being trapped inside his body. She shifted with discomfort, only for the giant wall of flesh to press down on her harder. She felt a small hand grip her wrist and turned her head to look at the other woman. Millie shook her head, indicating for her to cease her movement. Candy stopped.

They laid in darkness and silence, until the giant man fell asleep. His breathing deepened to a grand swell, like the rise and ebb of the tide at the beach. Candy’s pulse quickened. “Now’s our chance,” she whispered to Millie. “He’s asleep, we can escape-”

Millie shook her head, gripping Candy’s wrist harder. “No,” she protested with urgency. “Don’t even try. Bad idea.”

“But why?” Candy argued, exasperated. “Is he a light sleeper?”

“It’s not that.” Millie inhaled deeply, then let out a shuddering sigh. “He’s got personal servants, and his guard, Ajax, is always right outside the only exit. He’ll catch us. There’s no way around him. And even if you somehow miraculously avoided him, Chester can still track down your scent and find you. And when he does, and brings you back to the king...” She closed her eyes in a flash of painful recollection. “You don’t want to know what happens next.”

Candy’s stomach dropped, but she persisted. “We have to try, though! We can find some way to conceal our scent! Plus, the guard has been there all day, hasn’t he? Can’t we wait for a shift change or something, when he’s distracted? And then sneak around him?”

“He never leaves. As far as I can tell, he sleeps standing up and with his eyes open. I never see him rest or take a break. I think he’s got some strange magical enchantment on him,” Millie explained. “Like he’s become more of an automaton than a person.”

Candy blinked, baffled. This information was disturbing, but she was undeterred. “I can’t stay here, Millie. You can do what you want, but I need to get out of here. Now. I can’t tolerate this.” She tried to leave, but Millie yanked hard on her arm.

“No!” she hissed. “Please, I’m begging you, don’t go! I can’t...” She began to cry. “My heart can’t bear it...”

Candy softened. “Millie...”

“I’ve seen...” She hiccupped. “I’ve seen him enact some truly deplorable, wretched tortures. He’s... killed people. He’s cruel and wicked. One girl escaped, and when he found her, he was so furious, he carved her up with a knife. Cut the flesh clean off her bones, while she was still alive. Oh lord, the screams... and the blood...” She covered her mouth with revulsion.

“No... that’s horrible...”

“And another girl, she refused to cooperate with him, and didn’t show him the proper respect. Sometimes he likes that, since he enjoys dominating us and breaking us down, but that day he got fed up with her sass. He snapped her arms and legs... and then shoved her up his ass. He’s not even into that sort of thing. He just wanted to be cruel.”

“Ugh... how vile...”

“One girl was prone to panic attacks and kept screaming and crying and carrying on in his presence. He became annoyed and dropped her on the floor on purpose and crunched her under his foot. He did it slowly too... I could hear every distinct crack as each bone broke... and he smudged her corpse all over the floor until she was nothing more than a soupy stain.”

“Okay, I get it Millie, please stop...”

“And there was one woman, she bit him while he was rubbing her on his cock. So he bit her back. Piece by piece. His teeth were completely red when he was done, and blood dripped down his chin. He started with her feet and worked his way up, so she had to watch as her body disappeared into his mouth with atrocious, graphic-”

“Enough! Okay, okay, I won’t run, just stop!”

Millie clammed up at Candy’s sharp tone, her eyes spilling over with excess moisture. She was used to taking orders; her spirit was broken and chained. She had accepted that the rest of her life, however short it may last, was tied to this odious giant, and did everything in her power to tolerate his perversion, just to survive another day, to take another breath, and to keep the other humans around her safe. She no longer lived for herself. Her life revolved around King Richard, his needs and desires. She shoved down her own feelings to please the giant king.

Candy saw the effect her words had on Millie, and offered an apology. “Millie, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry...” Millie simply nodded with weary acquiescence, and turned away to sleep. Candy laid her head down, deep in thought. She schemed for a means of escape, but the nightmarish stories that Millie told filled her heart with dread and despair. How long had Millie been in King Richard’s clutches, with no opportunity for freedom? Months? Years? She hated to ponder the answer. Escape seemed elusive, if not downright impossible.

She had trouble sleeping, despite how long and draining her day had been. Resting on a giant’s chest was noisy and distracting, especially when he snored louder than an orchestra. His heart throbbing, his lungs heaving, and the gurgles and groans of his internal organs disturbed and disrupted her. Thus, she didn’t sleep much at all, and by the time morning came around, she was groggy and crabby.

She regained consciousness with Millie gently shaking her shoulder awake. “Candy, wake up,” Millie murmured.

Candy started to sit up, until she felt the weight of the giant hand on top of her and slumped back down. “What? What is it?” Early morning sun filtered in through the diaphanous curtains.

“It’s time to awaken the king.”

Candy’s mind laboriously processed this statement as she struggled to wake up. “Huh? Why?” Millie didn’t answer as she wormed her way out from under his massive thumb. She stood up on his pectoral and offered her hand to Candy, who grasped it and crawled out of the range of his fingers. “What are we doing?”

Millie began to walk around the huge hand, with Candy trailing behind. They hiked down the squishy landscape of his torso, stumbling as the living hill undulated beneath their feet with his breathing. Millie ducked to enter the tunnel of the bedsheets that concealed his belly and the lower half of his body, and Candy followed. The air beneath the sheets was muggy and oppressive, almost suffocating. Candy’s innards curdled as she realized that they were traveling lower and lower, almost to the base of his belly now. She stopped, her knees knocking together with anxiety. “Millie, we’re not...”

Millie glanced over her shoulder sadly. “Yes, Candy. We are.”

“But—why? He’s asleep, he’s not forcing us-”

“Candy.” Millie shook her head. “Sometimes it’s best to be proactive.” When Candy took a step back, intimidated and disgusted by the task ahead, Millie elaborated, “It’s best for the king to be in a good mood when he wakes up. Plus, he’s going to be hungry. Do you want to be his breakfast?”

The color in Candy’s face evaporated. “No! Definitely not!”

“Right. You do this, and he won’t eat you, and he’ll be all tender and sentimental and won’t be inclined to harm anyone. Just trust me on this. Please.” She gave Candy a pleading look. Candy was reminded of all the gory atrocities Millie had witnessed at the hands of King Richard, and she understood her logic.

She gulped. “Alright.” The agreement was bitter on her lips, but she felt cornered. She couldn’t bear the thought of being eaten again. Reluctantly, she trudged behind Millie, tracing a path along the ridge of the giant’s pelvic bone. A heavy dread compressed her chest as she beheld, for the first time, his colossal manhood, at rest like a dormant serpent in a nest of dark, coarse, curly hair. As they crept closer, a pungent, musky scent pervaded the stifling air, making her woozy.

Candy was an innocent young woman, and still a virgin. She had never touched a man in an intimate place before, and she was timid and squeamish. Until now, she had never even seen a man naked. She gulped as her mouth suddenly felt dry as sandpaper. “I-I don’t think I can do this,” she choked, falling back on wobbly legs.

Millie grasped her hand gently. “Candy, you don’t have a choice. You’ll have to learn, or else he will force you. I… I may not always be here to help you.” She swallowed and urged Candy forward. “Trust me, and everything will be okay.” Candy moved forward with Millie’s encouragement.

Millie straddled the base of the gigantic shaft. Even when soft, it was so wide in diameter she couldn’t wrap her arms and legs all the way around. She began to massage the limp pole with her limbs. She gestured for Candy to help, so Candy reluctantly climbed down into the bush of pubic hair and rubbed her hands along the soft, loose, warm skin. Her feet unexpectedly slipped on the steep slope of sweaty skin, and to her horror she tumbled down and faceplanted on the plush pillow of his ballsack. She nearly retched as the slightly moist, smelly skin saturated her face.

Panic jolted through her as he body continued to slide down. She scrambled to regain her balance, her hands sliding over the giant man’s balls and inner thigh without gaining any purchase. Fortuitously, she managed to grip a fistful of flabby scrotum skin before she dropped into the stuffy, offensive darkness below. She scrambled back up, gasping for breath and desperately wrapping her arms around his giant penis to keep from falling down again.

“Candy, are you alright? That was a close call!” Millie panted. She had been humping the gigantic dick the whole time and working her arms up and down with vigorous strokes. Candy was too hot and flustered to answer, and her discomposure was only magnified when she felt a pull on her arms and began to rise up. She flailed her legs with alarm when she realized the flesh below her feet was gone, and she was suspended in the air. The massive phallus in her arms was expanding, hardening, and rising as it filled with blood. The vein on the side ballooned out, pulsing as blood pumped through it. Candy struggled to maintain her hold on the widening mast as her skin grew slippery with sweat.

She didn’t realize her frantic climbing and slipping, especially as her skin grew wetter and warmer from the exertion, was only stimulating the responsive nerves in the fleshy tower more. The tiny women had successfully awakened the sleeping giant. Millie worked the base and Candy unintentionally worked the upper portion, just below the head. The dick grew harder and more erect until the king orgasmed, blowing his load like a cannon. The force was enough to topple Candy off her precarious mount, and she collapsed back down to his titanic testicles, which twitched underneath her as they pumped out their seed.

A deafening groan of pleasure resounded around them, and the sheets were thrown off with a gust like a hurricane, exposing the women to fresh, cool air and morning light. Candy squinted with confusion until the gargantuan face of the king came into focus far above, filling her with consternation.

“Good morning, my lovely ladies!” King Richard sang, scooping them both up in his palms. He gave each girl a kiss on the head. “What a wonderful treat to wake up to! Millie, you’re superlative as always! And Candy! Honey, I’d say you passed with flying colors!” He sighed with contentment as he nuzzled the ladies with his cheeks. Candy was mortified and overwhelmed by all the unwanted attention.

She was in shock as the morning passed by in a blur. Her mind couldn’t process anything, was numb with horror, as the king fawned over her and Millie, touching them reverently all over. She dimly perceived a spread of magnificent breakfast foods below as the king was brought a tray of food to eat in bed. She mechanically ate bits of food that were offered to her, despite not tasting any of it and having no appetite.

A cold metal clasp snapping around her waist brought her back to stark reality. Straps were fastened around her chest and shoulders to keep her in place as she was suspended from a thick leather cord. Millie, with a kiss and a pat on the head, was returned to her enclosure. Candy was disoriented as she was lifted and dropped again, the world spinning around her. The king’s giant fingers closed around her in a secure grip and she gazed up at him questioningly.

His breath washed over her as he held her inches from his smiling lips. “You’re spending the day with me, cupcake,” he murmured in a cloying tone. With that, he thrust her into his tunic, to be stuck dangling between the fabric of his clothes and his bare chest. As Candy was tossed up and down by his steps, she discerned she was hanging like an ornament from a necklace. Tears stung her eyes. She felt revolting, with his giant man all around her, his warmth and body odor permeating her skin. This was her life now, and there was no way out.

Chapter 15

#nsft #macro/micro #micro/macro #macro micro #micro macro

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