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sundrop-writes · 18 hours
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One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson
Season One, Episode One: "Titans"
Summary:
You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.
Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.
He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.
Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.
Word Count: 2,300
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).
A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!
....
Dick needed some fucking air. 
He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 
Fuck them. 
If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 
If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 
Fuck all of them. 
Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 
Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 
“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 
That voice. 
Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 
So much for time to calm himself down. 
He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 
That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 
(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 
That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 
But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 
Because you looked so good. 
You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 
A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 
Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 
Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 
He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 
“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 
You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 
“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 
Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 
“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 
The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 
(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 
“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 
“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 
He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 
“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 
He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 
He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 
So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 
“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 
You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 
“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 
“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 
You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 
“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 
“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 
You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 
“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 
Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 
“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 
“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 
“She does.” You corrected. 
“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 
“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 
You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 
But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 
He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 
He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 
Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 
How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 
This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 
“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 
If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 
“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 
‘Or us.’ 
You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 
“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 
Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 
“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 
You made a mocking face in return. 
“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 
Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 
“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 
When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 
But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 
Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 
“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 
“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 
At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:
‘Oh fuck. You were right.’
...
A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.
While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.
Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.
If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.
Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.
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pronoun-checks · 8 months
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Hi, I'll like the name Lavender with He/him, They/them, it/its, and purr/purr/purrs/purrs/purrself please. I like the LEGO movie and drawing. Thanks
No problem!
Wait a second, is that Lavender? I think I see Lavender over there! Do you see him? He’s the one sitting by himself with his headphones on. I wonder what he’s listening to? You’ve met Lavender before, right? No? You’ll have to meet him sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with him. I’ve only spoken with them once or twice, but they seem like an interesting person. I believe they said that they enjoy drawing, and maybe they’ll show you some of their drawings sometime! I can’t remember if it does digital art, traditional art, or both, though. I’ll have to ask it the next time I see it. It also said that it likes the LEGO movie. Maybe you and it could watch it together sometime? Oh, hey! Lavender is looking this way now! I think purr’s waving at us? Yep, purr’s definitely waving at us. Do you want to go meet Lavender? Sure, let’s go have you meet purr. Hey! Lavender!
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yea-baiyi · 1 year
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yunmeng trio’s hugs
Jiang Cheng's hugs weren't good, exactly. He gripped too tight, like he was trying to press you right into him, like if he didn't almost crush you, he couldn't be sure that you were real. You couldn't really hug him back because he'd trap your arms in a vice-like grip, the ornaments on his robes digging into your shoulders and chest, and he'd dig his sharp chin into your shoulder. Usually with a half-hearted growl about how you're an idiot and deserve to be punched in the face. His fingers would dig into your shoulders and they'd almost shake, that's when you knew he was scared.
A-jie's hugs were gentle. They smelled like her, like the kitchen and flowers and her perfume. She tended to grip you gently, like she didn't want to even leave a dent in your clothes. You always hugged back, just as gently, though part of you wanted to dig your arms in and hold her tight. Sometimes you wish you had, because when you close your eyes and picture her hugs you still can't feel it.
Wei Wuxian was not the kind who hugged easily. Sure, slinging a hand over someone's shoulder to walk together, or bumping your shoulder against them is well and good, but a hug? It's a demand, it's asking someone to enter their space and hand you their comfort. It's not a liberty he's used to taking without it being offered first, or thrown at him in a surprise lunge. He's glad for it, every time. But there comes a point where the betrayals are too much, the misunderstandings, the lies, the secrets, build a wall so thick that no one dares to move past it, not without him saying so. And of course he wouldn't ask for that. He wouldn't know where to start.
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impeakcharacterdesign · 6 months
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Just the Tip
— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —
MDNI!!!
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
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The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
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kiwi-bitchez · 7 months
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Double Down, Triple Threat 
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Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader
Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 
Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 
Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.
Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together
A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I
"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.
"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 
"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 
"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."
"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."
"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 
Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 
Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 
"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."
"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 
If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 
He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."
"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 
Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 
But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 
Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 
"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."
"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."
"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'
"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"
"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 
"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."
"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."
"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."
"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 
He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 
"What's your drink?" he asks.
"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 
"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 
You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.
"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."
"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.
"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."
"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."
He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.
As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."
You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."
Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 
"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 
Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 
"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"
"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."
"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 
"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 
You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 
You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 
"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."
"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."
"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."
"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 
"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 
"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."
"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 
With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 
Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 
You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 
Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 
It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 
You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 
Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 
Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 
You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 
"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 
"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 
"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 
You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 
"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."
"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 
"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 
He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."
"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 
"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.
"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 
He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 
The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 
"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.
"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 
"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.
"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."
"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."
"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.
"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."
You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.
"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 
"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.
"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."
"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."
"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 
You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 
"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 
You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."
"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 
"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."
"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 
You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."
He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 
The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 
After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 
"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 
You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.
"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 
He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 
Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 
Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 
He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.
"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.
"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."
"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"
He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 
"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.
"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.
"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 
"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 
This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 
Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 
It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 
"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 
"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 
It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 
After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 
When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 
He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?
In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 
So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  
“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”
“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.
“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”
“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 
You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 
He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 
“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 
With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 
It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 
He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 
His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 
“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.
Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 
He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 
“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.
He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 
Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 
The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.
Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 
“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 
He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 
Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 
“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”
After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 
“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 
Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?
Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 
You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 
“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”
And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 
Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 
After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 
Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 
“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.
You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”
“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”
“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.
“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 
“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  
You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 
“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 
“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”
There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 
“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 
He understood, he hated how much he understood. 
“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 
“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”
“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”
“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”
“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”
“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’
He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 
You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 
“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 
He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 
A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 
The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 
You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 
You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 
He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 
“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”
“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 
“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.
“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.
“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”
You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 
“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 
“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”
He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 
He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.
He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 
When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 
A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 
The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 
“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“
He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 
“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.
“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 
“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”
With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 
“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”
“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”
You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 
“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.
“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 
You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 
He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 
“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 
“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 
“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 
“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 
“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”
You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 
“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”
You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 
You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 
“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”
It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 
“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”
“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“
“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”
You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.
He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 
As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 
“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 
He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 
“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 
You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 
As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 
His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.
Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 
Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 
He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 
“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 
When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.
You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”
He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 
“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 
The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.
“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 
“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 
He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 
As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 
Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”
Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 
He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 
He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”
Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 
“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 
“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“
“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”
Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 
It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 
“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”
Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 
Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.
The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 
The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 
His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 
“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”
You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 
You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 
He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 
“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”
“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”
Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 
After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 
“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”
“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 
An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 
You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 
A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 
“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 
A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 
You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 
You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 
Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.
“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”
His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 
“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 
“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”
“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”
“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”
“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”
“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”
“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.
“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.
“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 
“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 
“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”
“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”
“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”
“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 
“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 
“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 
“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”
“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.
“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”
Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 
“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”
“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”
His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 
“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 
“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 
The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.
Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 
“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.
“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”
“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”
“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”
“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”
“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”
“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”
He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 
Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 
As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 
“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.
“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”
“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 
“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 
“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”
“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 
“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”
As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 
He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 
You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 
After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.
“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.
“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 
“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.
“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”
“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 
“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 
“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 
“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.
You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 
“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.
“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 
You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.
A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”
You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”
He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 
You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.
He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.
You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 
“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 
His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 
“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 
You nod with a “Please.”
“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”
He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.
“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”
With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 
He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 
“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 
You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 
You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 
The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.
You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 
“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 
“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 
The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 
“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”
He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 
Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 
“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”
Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 
“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 
He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 
“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.
“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”
You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 
“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”
He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 
“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 
You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 
You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 
Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.
“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”
He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 
He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 
Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 
He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 
You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 
“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 
He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 
You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 
“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 
“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 
Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 
His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 
“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.
He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.
“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 
He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 
Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 
Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 
You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”
Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.
Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 
Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 
“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 
“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”
“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 
“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”
Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 
Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 
“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 
“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”
He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“
He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 
“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 
“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”
You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 
“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 
“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 
Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.
He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 
He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.
Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 
More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”
How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 
“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”
“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.
“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“
“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 
Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 
“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 
It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 
It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.
“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 
You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 
He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.
“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”
He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 
“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”
“Special enough for a fourth date?”
You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”
Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 
“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 
“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 
A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3
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neuvistar · 1 year
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TOO TEMPTING FOR ME TO RESIST. (tbh there is no topic or theme for this is just separate thirsts i’ve been thinkin abt for these men lawl)
— featuring ┊ dan heng, jing yuan, blade, luocha x fem!reader (all separate)
— warnings / content warnings ┊ not proofread whoops uh uhuh makeout sessions wink wink, use of she/her pronouns, hair pulling or tugging??? (luocha + blade), praising mayhaps?? (jing yuan), slight degradation (blade), vaginal fingering (danheng), oral sex (blade, fem!receiving) luocha being such a sweetheart (maybe ooc luocha? i don’t rlly know what he’s like so stay w me on this), mentions of breeding, ALSO blade is also called “ren” here cuz i think that’s his real name?? idk! luocha is a tittie lover foreal (tittie men.. ugh), use of nicknames (angel, sweetheart, etc), overall slight suggestive content || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
— a/n ┊HONKAI STAR RAIL SMUT DEBUT FOREALSSS! except it’s kinda messy cuz this is just a brainrot n also i’m sososorry i’ll get requests done right after this, i’ve been busy so again think of this as a filler, although i did enjoy writing this tbh (>ε< )
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✦ 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆
“cmon pretty, tell me how much you trust me,“ dan heng pulled you closer, his right hand touching her cheek. “you’re giving me complete control over you. you’re letting me do whatever I want with you, whenever I want. how do you know I won't go too far?“ he plunged two fingers inside of her soaking wet cunt, earning a whine from her as she felt him buck his hips against her, fingering her at a slow and steady pace. fuck.. you were beautiful. dan heng wanted to do this with you for so long but yet never had the chance to ask you properly. you were just.. too tempting for him to resist. he wanted you, now. he wanted you to take him and his fingers right then and there on his lap
“hah.. i don’t mind.. just— mm.. faster please, ‘need you so bad, dan heng.”
he smiled nonchalantly, “well... I'm sorry if it gets too intimate. you asked for this, mm?.” dan heng pulled her into a deep kiss, pulling her body closer as his arm embraced her so gently while the other was working on her aching pussy, the lewd sounds of squelching could be heard as his fingers worked wonders on her sweet cunt, struggling to hold back the dirty sounds that threatened to leave her throat. that kiss soon became more passionate as his tongue explored your mouth. the taste of his lips was so addicting to you.. the sweet taste of strawberries filled your mouth. dan heng curled his slender fingers inside her as he began to bounce his leg gently, adding another digit inside. he kept the pace of his fingers up, planting a series of kisses and nibbles along her neck
she couldn’t take it. she really couldn’t. the feeling of his fingers inside of your cunt drove you crazy, you wanted more. you yearned for more. throwing her head back as she felt herself chasing her orgasm. “‘gonna cum, dan heng.. g-gonna cum!”
suddenly, he stopped the movements of his fingers, completely catching her off guard, her pussy clenching around his fingers. he slowly pulled out, cum connecting his digits to her cunt as he looked at her dead in the eye, chuckling to himself. “i love it when you cum on my fingers like that, sweetheart. it just makes me more tempted to ruin you more than i already do.”
✦ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍
“goodness your body is divine... it’s like you were carved by angels,” his eyes lingered on her chest, giving her a wide grin before planting a small kiss on her neck. “maybe that’s why you’re so tempting, hm? that body of yours.. ‘can’t get enough of it. temptin’ me too much.”
he pinned her down onto the mattress, knee brushing up against her crotch which forced out a whimper out of her as he chuckled lowly. “your body.. It's so damn beautiful,” jing yuan traces circles on your bare shoulder, kissing it every now and then. “your body is like art, angel. i wang to keep looking, touching, and feeling you.. i’m sure you wouldn't mind, would you?”
“you want me sooo bad don’t you, yu?”
he chuckled before his fingers moved up from her neck then to her chin, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “mm.. more than anything.“ he smirked pulling her into one of those kisses that she can't help but melt into, as his hand trails down into the curve of her waist, pulling away slightly. “you’re the only one I want, my sweet angel.“ jing yuan pulls her in even closer, the intensity of his kiss rising even more. “I crave you like nothing else. I need to have you, hold you, treasure you.” she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than he already was, her hot breath landing on his neck as she licked it slowly, hearing a low moan leave his lips “fuck baby.. you’re like a drug to me, you make me weak. that’s why you’re so tempting. ‘s so hard to hold myself back when i see you.. ‘s hard to hold myself back from bending you over my desk to fill you up whole.”
his fingers ran along her thigh, lifting it up slightly as he interlocked his lips with hers, loving the feeling of her lips on his. jing yuan’s breathing becomes even more ragged, his eyes looking into hers with utter passion. “i’ll make sure you never forget tonight, ‘gonna breed you all full.. you want that, don’t you? you want a lil’ me and a lil’ you running around, sweet thing? ‘cause i’m gonna give you exactly what you want.”
✦ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄
“stay still f’me.” he lifted her knees to her chest as he kept them in place, pushing her panties aside. he gazed up at her one last time, moving closer towards her with a low hum. his lips curved into a smirk, she sucked in a short sharp hiss of breath as he bit down on a spot on her thigh, kissing the other. “‘s mean.. always ‘s mean to me ren..”
“but you like it when i’m mean to you like this, right? don’t you put up at act with me. you know you enjoy it as much as i do.”
“mm.. ah! r—ren!” blade pressed his thumb against her puffy clit, giving your cunt one nice slap as her body shuddered, moaning his name before tightening her grip on his hair, pulling his face closer to her cunt. “‘always so desperate, huh? you want it so bad? fine. if that’s what you really want, i’ll give it to you, sweet thing. don’t start cryin’ that it’s t’much. because you’ll lay there and take it like the slut you are.” she whined and threw her head back as she felt his warm tongue lick her dripping slit. his tongue swirled around her clit, keeping her knees completely still.
god, he was good at this. it’s like he was a natural. licking at all the right places, circling his tongue on her folds, gazing up at her only to see she was already gazing down at him, eating her out like a mad man like there was no tomorrow. he stared at her in awe, the facial expressions she was making, the way she arched her back at how he lapped at her juices, and the way her hand on the back of his head pushed him down further on her cunt, he was absolutely losing it. all of the sudden, the pleasure she was receiving suddenly stopped as blade pulled away from her, licking his lips clean. he stared down in between her legs then right back at her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he crashed his lips against hers, letting her taste herself before pulling away from her lips slowly. “‘want more, ren..”
“then beg for it. ‘m not givin’ you anythin you want unless you beg. beg like a needy slut. maybe then i’ll give you whatever you please, cmon. lemme hear you beg for me, sweet girl.”
✦ 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀
“want you to do whatever you want t’me, luocha. show me what you can do to me, show me that you’re the only one who can love me like this, who can cherish me like this, show me that nobody is willing to love me like you are, nobody is willing to be as genuine with me as you are.” she ran her fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp before tugging at it slightly, hearing the blonde’s breath hitch at that before smiling at her lovingly, “you’re really asking me to do absolutely anything i want with you?”
“please.”
“you’re doing things to me y’know that, princess?” luocha’s entire body throbbed with the immense heat present between them. she heard him sigh lowly, his lips now on hers kissing her roughly, his kisses filled with lust and heat ahe hadn’t felt in so long. she inhaled sharply, running her fingers through his soft locks, pulling on it gently once more. she kissed and sucked on his lip, yanking his hair more roughly now. he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, caressing your belly ever so gently with his palm, running his all the way up to cup your breast. a string of saliva followed his lips, pulling away from your lips. “say.. [name]?”
“mhm?”
“you said i can do whatever i want with you, right? that being said, i’m sure you wouldn’t mind if i put a little one in you right here right now, mhm? i’m sure you can handle that can’t you, princess?” her back arched at his words, body jolting at the feeling of his cold hands on her sensitive breasts, rubbing them with the tip of his fingers. “then.. go ahead. i’m not stopping you, luocha.”
“then.. have all of me.”
damn this is messed up n all over the place it’s ok it’s just thirsts guys trust stop i had no theme in mind — Maryse
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cameronspecial · 2 months
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You Will Always Be My Business
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Summary: Y/N goes on her first date after her break up with Rafe and he has something to say about it.
A/N: This is inspired by this post.
Masterlist
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Rafe and Y/N broke up about two months ago. Y/N couldn’t deal with Rafe’s possessiveness and addiction anymore, so she had to end their relationship for her own sanity. She was surprised by how easily he let her go because she expected more of an argument from him, but after his pleas to not leave him were ignored, he accepted their fate and left. Even with his vices, Y/N was heartbroken by their separation. There was a side to Rafe that only she got to see and it showed her the man he could be if he wanted to. It showered her in love with no limit. 
Now, two months later, Y/N is getting ready for her first date with Aaron. She is nowhere near healed from the breakup; however, she needs to try to move on to help the process. Aaron knows about Rafe and also just got out of a relationship, so they are both on the same page with what this relationship is. She finishes putting her earrings in when the knock comes at her door. She jogs to the door and opens it with a smile. “Hey, Beautiful. Are you ready to go?” Aaron greets. She nods while grabbing her purse, “Yep, lead the way.” 
———
The door to the car shuts with a thud and Y/N thanks Aaron for dropping her off. She jogs to her front door, fumbling with her keys as she places them in the lock. “The date must not have been that great if he isn’t coming inside.” She jumps at the voice coming from her side and turns toward Rafe. The porch sensor finally flicks on, illuminating him clearly. She doesn’t know what to say to him, so he continues. His head flicks toward Aaron’s car, “Might want to tell him you are safe. Don’t want him waiting there all night.” She turns to Aaron and gives him a thumbs-up. When Aaron looks unsure, she nods. The sound of his motor fades as she enters her house with Rafe in tow. “What are you doing here?” she questions, going through the motions of getting comfortable. Rafe drops to a squat to undo the buckles of her heels, “A little birdy told me that you were going on a date. I wanted to check in and see if he treated you like the gentleman you deserve.” 
“We aren’t dating anymore, so how I get treated by other men is none of your business.” 
Rafe stands to his full height, towering over her. His hands drop onto the back of the couch she is leaning against and traps her within his arms. He leans forward so she can feel his breath against her ear, “You will always be my business. My heart is completely and utterly yours and yours is mine. No matter how long we are apart, we will always be each other’s. So if you need time to play the field, then you take it because, in the end, you are going to come back to me.” Her breath hitches when he presses his lips against her cheek. He takes tentative steps back before leaving her alone to question the validity of his statement. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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avatarchic · 1 month
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— FOREIGNER
How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.
— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's
— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining
— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint
— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)
— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol
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daichi is whipped for you from the start
he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you
he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off
he loses his backbone whenever you're around
he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows
when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon
he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily
he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"
the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately
he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair
overall, he's super soft with you :)
sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.
kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.
when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.
"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."
the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"
at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."
daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."
when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.
"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.
your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.
"hey, hey—why are you so red?"
"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."
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koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little
he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao
he fumbles a bit in front of you
he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long
when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better
and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better
the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you
he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL
the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes
wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there
his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before
he really wants you to think he's cool
but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot
suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.
you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.
you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.
"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.
your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"
thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."
koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"
you wince, "no."
"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."
when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.
eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"
koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."
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honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet
he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him
you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred
and even then, your conversations are short
he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you
don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you
you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him
when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class
you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework
shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out
as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit
he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears
he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games
he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you
he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways
will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together
azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.
several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.
he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.
it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.
he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.
he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."
"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.
there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.
even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.
"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."
as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.
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as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet
he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)
at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it
he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform
he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'
you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol
though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer
he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something
during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you
you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform
he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas
he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit
your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown
after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance
shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot
he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you
he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand
he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you
nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.
"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."
yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.
he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."
"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"
your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.
even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.
you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.
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oh ryuu. typical ryuu.
the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped
like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet
he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face
eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away
when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you
of course, a man can't change overnight
he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces
however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you
he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)
when you become close friends, you become his person
he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent
he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan
he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)
it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you
tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.
it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.
"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."
there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"
ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.
the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.
ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."
he at least has the grace to blush.
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to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later
it's not because you're related to shoyo it is
he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao
you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo
the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh
it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)
he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh
like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified
so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague
when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)
your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you
he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads
you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think
it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court
slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)
kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.
of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.
the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.
tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.
he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.
later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.
you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."
tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.
when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.
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you and kei barely interacted at first tbh
he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really
even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye
after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol
but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student
your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered
you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him
however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions
to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk
"can't you see you're bothering them?"
the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone
your relationship with him from then on is odd
there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it
he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often
if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)
when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height
making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)
tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.
"shoyo! sho!"
the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?
shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"
before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"
you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.
"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.
you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.
as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.
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my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3
he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face
he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol
"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"
"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("
becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be
it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice
the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you
he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture
i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck
the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest
you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei
the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL
kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware
he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you
the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him
yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.
he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.
although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.
"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.
even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.
"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.
"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"
"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."
he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.
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your first meeting with keishin is awkward
ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you
he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it
you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often
the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression
he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin
he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades
when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face
"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"
to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)
you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store
it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh
"you wanna share that?"
he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him
keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you
ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.
"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.
as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.
"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.
you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.
when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."
he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"
keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"
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©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
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alisonwritesimagines · 8 months
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This Night is Sparkling, Don't You Let it Go ~LA! Shanks Imagine~
Summary: The moment Luffy gets his own bounty poster, Shanks makes the decision to come back to you.
Author’s Note: Not as long as the angst one but at least this is the fluff ending.
Fluff Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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“I’m going to be king of the pirates and I promise that I will find Shanks and you two can live with me in an island or I can get you two your own island so you two can be happy,” Luffy tells you.
“Focus on becoming King of the Pirates first then you can worry about me," you tell him.
"I promise I'll make you proud. I won't forget what you and Shanks taught me," Luffy said.
You watched as Luffy was ready to set off in the world to become king of the pirates. He had told you two days before that he was leaving and that he had gotten a small boat ready. You felt nervous on letting him go off but you knew that he would not change his mind once he had his mind set.
“And I promise to be safe. I’ll send you letters of my adventures!”
“Or you could always come back and visit me,” you tell him.
“I will do that too!”
“Luffy. Please be careful,” you tell him.
“I will. And thank you. For taking care of me for all these years,” Luffy said.
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you again soon! And I’ll bring back some awesome stuff for you!” Luffy said before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He got on his boat and began to sail off.
-
A few weeks later, you saw Luffy’s bounty poster in the newspaper. You stared at his photo as you fiddled with the ring Shanks gave you.
You were alone now. Luffy was off being a pirate and Shanks was God knows where. You leaned your head on your head as you stared down at the photo. You missed your boys and now that you were alone, what was left for you to do?
"You okay, Y/n?" Makino asked you.
"Just missing my boys," you tell her.
"At least you know how Luffy's doing," she said. You smile softly before nodding.
-
“Gents! We are setting sail!” Shanks called out after drinking another pint of beer.
“Where to captain?”
“Windmill Village! I need to pick up someone from there,” Shanks told his crew.
“You mean Y/n?”
“Of course I do. Let’s go get her shall we?”
-
You gathered your vegetables from your garden before walking back to your home. You began to separate them for ones to keep and ones to sell. Now that Luffy was gone, you had more food to sell.
A faint knock at the door was heard making you look over. You walked to the door to find Shanks standing there. Your eyes widen as you stared at him.
“Shanks?”
“You’re just as beautiful as the day I left,” Shanks said before cupping your cheek and leaning in to kiss you.
“Wait! Did you find the one piece? Why are you here? Am I dreaming?” You asked, a million questions ran through your head.
“Haven't found the one piece yet. But I am here to take my fiancée away from here."
“Shanks-“
“I saw Luffy’s bounty poster. And I knew that meant you’re no longer taking care of him. So join me, my love.”
“Shanks. I don’t know.”
“Please. I cannot bare another day without you. Join me and I promise you to give you everything you could ever ask for,” Shanks tells you. You leaned up to kiss him again before pulling him into your home with his shirt. He closed the door behind him, locking it with his one hand.
“I’ll join you Shanks. But first, I need you to touch me again,” you tell him as you began to undo the knot on his cape.
“Of course my love. I'm all yours."
-
“I’ve missed you so much,” you tell him as you cuddled up next to him. There was only one perk of Shanks having one arm. You can lie close to him without worrying about making his arm hurt or fall asleep.
“I’ve missed you too. You’re all that I thought of,” Shanks tells you.
“Same here. I should leave a note for Luffy for when he decides to visit,” you mention as you looked around your home.
“Of course.”
As you packed your bags, you looked around at your home. You began to tear up as you stared at a few pictures of you and Luffy.
“You’ll see him again my love,” Shanks said, kissing your head.
“I know. But I just can’t help but think what would happen if Luffy came home and he needs help?”
“He’s a grown boy now, Y/n. And even then, we can always come back here if you need to,” Shanks told you. You nodded before kissing him once more.
“Though I’d like to marry you before we set sail,” Shanks mentioned as he held your hand.
“I’d love that.”
Once you were packed up, you two headed to the village. You dropped off the vegetables to Makino while one of Shanks’s crew members brought your stuff to Shanks’s room. You wore a white dress as requested by Shanks.
“Shall we get married?” Shanks asked you.
“Who’s going to officiate?”
“My crew got the priest to quickly rush over so we can marry before we set sail.”
“You planned this didn’t you?”
“Darling, I knew I wanted to make you mine forever the moment I decided to come back to you.”
You smiled at Shanks before kissing him once more.
Shanks’s crew and a few of your close friends were your witnesses to your small and quick wedding. But it didn’t matter if it wasn’t a traditional wedding. You had each other and that’s all that mattered.
While the crew celebrated in the village, you and Shanks were enjoying each other’s company in his room on his ship. The two of you didn't wait any time to consummate your marriage together.
Shanks lied awake as you slept soundly next to him. After six rounds, you were knocked out. Shanks smiled as he kissed your forehead, finally being able to relax now that you were in his arms.
“I love you so much my love,” Shanks tells you.
“If it isn’t my lovely wife,” Shanks smiled as you waddled over to him.
You were eight months pregnant and Shanks was more than happy for you to be carrying his child. He quickly greeted you in the middle before kissing you on the lips.
“How is my beautiful wife?” Shanks asked you.
“I feel fat,” you tell him honestly.
“Nonsense. You’re still the most gorgeous woman in my eyes,” Shanks said.
“Plus it doesn’t help that the sea is making me sick again,” you tell him as you felt queasy.
“We’ll be docking again back home my love,” Shanks assured you before kissing you once more.
“Are you sure you're okay with staying in the village until the baby is born?" You asked him.
"Of course. I'd do anything for our family," Shanks said before kissing your head.
"Daddy! Come on!" Your five year old son called out as he ran towards the ocean.
"Don't go too far or else you'll give your mother a heart attack," Shanks chuckled as he carried his one year old daughter in his arm.
"Why doesn't anyone wait for me?" You complained as you waddled over towards your family.
"I'm here for you," Shanks said as he waited for you. Though you had two kids already, you were expecting one more.
"You did this to me," you joked as you pointed a finger at him.
"I don't recall you complaining about it," Shanks smiled before giving you a quick kiss.
"Mom! Can we have a bonfire later?" Your son asked you.
"Yeah. Of course baby," you nodded.
Shanks and you sat on chairs next to your son as he built a sandcastle. You smiled at Shanks as he smiled down at your daughter.
"I got a letter from Luffy. Said he plans on visiting us next month with his crew," you tell Shanks.
"Oh good. Haven't seen him in a while," Shanks said.
"I know. I'm happy to see him and his pirate crew together. Remember when he always asked for you to take him into your crew?" You asked Shanks.
"Those were the good old days," Shanks laughed a little.
"Yeah. I'm glad you came back to me sooner."
"I'm glad to. I could never imagine a life without," Shanks tells you before leaning in to kiss you.
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lale-txt · 2 months
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❉ in a long-distance relationship ↳ w/ Nanami & Naoya (separate)
a/n: getting into my clown car because originally i was planning to write this for four characters in total, then i blinked and suddenly i had written over 2k words in headcanons and drabbles and decided to call it a day. i personally want to thank Nanami and Naoya for representing the both flawless and horrendous ends of the spectrum regarding my taste in fictional men ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
contains: headcanons are sfw & gn!reader, drabbles are ns.fw & afab!reader. i'll put individual warnings before each drabble later in the text.
word count: 2.3k
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❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
the driest texter known to man
it’s not like Nanami won’t think of you and text you throughout the day, it’s more that his texts read as if they’re coming from your tax consultant rather than from the love of your life
“Arrived at the accommodation. Room is very clean. About to head out for work, will call you later tonight. Love you, K. PS: Heard Lawson has cabbage on sale this week.”
he’s never beating the old man allegations
it’s an obstacle that yours and his work often requires you both to travel and spend time apart, but to Nanami, once committed, long distance was never a reason for things not to work out between you
he keeps his promises and calls when he said he would, he sends you flowers when he can’t bring them back home in person and he orders you food when you’re having a rough day, staying on the phone with you while you eat and letting you vent if you need to 
when he misses you (which he always does), he lets you know. no matter how far apart, Nanami would never make you doubt if you’re on his mind and in his heart 
often he’d send you photos of his lunch or local specialities, sometimes photos from the local pigeons too when they’d pick up the crumbs of his sandwich at his feet
“Those two seem inseparable. Made me think of us. Miss your voice, will call you tonight. What are you having for lunch? Careful when you cut the cabbage.”
at night, after another draining day of fighting curses, the only thing keeping Nanami going is the prospect of hearing your voice over the speaker
he will close his eyes and imagine you snuggled up in bed while talking to him, waiting for him to come home, and oh, how badly he wants to be by your side and never let you go
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cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), phone sex, panty sniffing, masturbation (with said panties), dirty talk, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), mention of: brat taming, mirror sex and hair pulling
“Sorry, love. Were you asleep already?”
Nanami’s voice is quiet, almost like an apology for calling you this late. He knows you’re always staying up and fighting your sleepiness, despite him telling you not to wait for him—he’s grateful you do though, because hearing your voice is the one thing that will get him through each day, no matter how long it drags on.
“Mhm, not quite yet,” you mumble into your phone and smile at the sound of his voice. “‘m all cozy in bed though, it still smells like you. Only missing your warmth.”
Nanami laughs quietly at the other end of the line. He has no problems imagining you right now, having the big bed you bought together all for yourself but still curling up on his side of the mattress, where his scent still lingers. He hums softly.
“That was quite the surprise I found in my pocket this morning.”
You hear some rustling sounds and a pair of pants getting unzipped, and the grin on your face widens. Putting your phone on speaker, you set it down on the pillow next to you and roll over on your back, feeling more awake now.
“Well? Did you like it?”, you coo.
“Loved it.”
The panties you slipped into Nanami’s jacket before he left are now dangling from his finger in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He picked them out for you a while ago and now you were simply returning the favor, knowing how lonely it can get on a solo mission. He closes his big fist around them and brings them to his face, inhaling your musk and making him groan quietly. His cock aches in his boxers, precum staining them slightly, but he doesn’t touch himself yet.
“God, I miss you,” he mutters after catching another whiff of your worn panties. “Want to taste you so badly, love. When I get home, I’ll have you sit on my face till your legs give out.”
You chuckle at the prospect of it. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Did you touch yourself with my panties?”, you ask in a sultry voice and you can hear Nanami growl a little at the other end of the line.
“I’m doing it right now,” he replies in a husky voice, having his bottoms hastily pulled down his thighs and now fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around it. The fabric feels soft and expensive, and the thought of how they clung to your cunt when you soaked through them has his mind spinning circles.
“Good. I want to hear you cum,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a better imagination. “Tell me what you want to do with me when you’re back home.”
Nanami pumps his fat cock with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. He’s sprawled out in an armchair, head in the back of his neck, his eyes shut as well. His breath comes out raggedly.
“Gonna fill your pretty little cunt to the brim,” he mumbles. “Tongue, fingers, cock. Everything. Whatever you beg for, I’ll give it to you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll have it ruin your panties for days, but you’d like that, don’t you?”
“Fuck,” you mewl at the other end of the line, kicking back the sheets and spreading your legs to touch yourself to his words. Your fingers reached nowhere as deep as Nanami's, but it was better than nothing.
“Gonna bend you over and fuck you on every flat surface in our house,” he rasps. “In front of the big mirror too, so you can see the faces you make when you cum on my cock. Wanna feel how tight you get when you’re milking me. As if you’re trying to remember the shape of my cock forever. Made for me, only me. And if you’re gonna be a brat, which I know you will, I’ll stuff your mouth with your panties and pull your hair till I fucked some obedience into you.”
Nanami groans; he is so close. Damn, if only you were here for him to bury himself in the warmth of your cunt. Your whimpering at the other end of the line and your panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps himself are enough to send him tumbling over the edge, a supernova of pent up lust and frustration unleashing within him. The silken fabric soaks up all of his cum, sticky and hot against his skin. He made a mess, but cleaning up was for later.
“You good, love?”, he asks in a raspy voice and can’t help but smile at the sound of your heavy breathing.
“Came so hard I saw stars a little,” you confess over the speaker and snicker. You’ll definitely have to change the sheets before Nanami gets home. As if you two wouldn’t ruin them anyway.
“Good, good,” he laughs. “Now sleep, dear, I kept you up for too long. I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? Can’t wait to kiss you.”
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❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀
Naoya hates being apart from you and he doesn’t understand why you take on missions that require you to leave the Zen’in estate aka him
in his eyes, as his spouse there’s no need for you to work at all, you should just stay at home with him or accompany him on his business trips 
he can and he will yap about this while you pack your bags, while he drives you to the train station (he insists to escort you there himself), while carrying your luggage and even between goodbye kisses. seriously, this man never learned how to shut up in his entire life
the night prior, Naoya had made sure to leave plenty of hickeys all over your body, as a reminder who you belong to 
he’s clearly bored out of his mind without you around, your phone blowing up with text and voice messages from him, demanding your unrestricted attention and getting pouty when you don’t immediately reply to him
it’s not like Naoya is jealous or worried that you’d see someone else behind his back–his ego is too big to consider this even a possibility
he’s simply the undefeated champion in the pain in the ass competition 
he’ll act nonchalant when you call him once you’re back at your hotel, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pacing restlessly around all day until his phone finally lit up with your name on display
asking you about your day comes second, first you’ll have to listen to him whining how much it sucks without you around and that this’ll be the last time that he’s allowing you as your husband to go on a solo mission (he’s ignoring your unrestrained laughter about it), and that you’ll have to think of something to make it up to him on your way home which will be in 3 days, 11 hours and 27 minutes (he’s counting)
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cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), video call sex, dirty talk, masturbation, praise kink, mention of spitting, sweet talking Naoya into submission, he has nipple piercings in this one, Naoya being his own warning
“Seriously? You couldn’t wait three seconds to at least show me your face before flipping the camera to your dick?”
You lie on your stomach in a hotel bed that’s way too big for you alone, fresh out of the shower, glancing down at your phone in your hand. After a long day of fighting an extremely nasty curse, you crave nothing more than rubbing one out to the voice of your husband and passing out immediately afterwards. Your hips grind lazily into a pillow between your legs, feeling that familiar throb, while Naoya on the other end strokes himself on display as slowly, his thumb drawing circles over his leaking tip. His moans are slightly muffled over the speaker.
“Can’t help it, babe, I’ve been like this all day, aching for ya. Had my cock throbbing even at family dinner. Been thinking about nothing other than stuffing all of yer greedy holes. Just look–”
The movements of the video get a bit shaky when he fists his cock, pumping himself at a leisurely pace. You’ve memorized every vein of his cock, feeling your mouth water a little at the sight of it. While Naoya wasn’t a size king, he had the girth and you vividly remember how he knocked the air out of your lungs when he pounded you into the mattress for the very first time. You roll your hips some more, chasing for the right friction to get you off, the camera still aimed at your face. 
“Then gimme a show at least,” you whine and put on a small pout which you know Naoya can never resist. If there’s anything Naoya loves, then it’s attention and praise, and he is way too easy to bait into whatever could offer him that.
“Oh, ‘m gonna give yer a show, baby. Gonna make ya regret not being here with me. I’d have ya drooling all over my cock if yer were here with me now,” he rattles. “Would spit in yer mouth, that’s how ya like it, dontcha?” 
The display turns dark and blurry for a moment, and you can practically feel the excitement from the other end of the line when Naoya props his phone up against something to have his hands free. He is so obedient at times, yet he would hate to hear that. For the first time today you get a glimpse of his face now, the pink of his tongue poking out slightly between his lips, his hakama pants hanging unfastened from his hips, his cock resting heavy on his thigh when he leans back.
“The shirt, too,” you demand. “Take it off.”
“Nah, too many buttons,” Naoya huffs and grips his cock again, making sure to angle it just right at the camera. Oh, how he wished you were on your knees before him right now. All the ways he’d mess you up. 
“Then pull it up at least. C’mon, put it in your mouth like I do it for you sometimes,” you coax him in your sweetest, sultriest voice. “I know you can be a good boy for me.”
Naoya’s hips yerk up slightly at the praise and he lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to restrain himself from coming too fast. His resilience is crumbling so easily at the sight of your pretty face and he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, biting down on it to keep the fabric from sliding down again. One nice side effect of this was that with his mouth stuffed, he would shut up for once. 
“Mmm, yes. That’s it, so good, aren’t you?” you coo and have Naoya gripping his cock tighter, his movements getting sloppy. His abs contracted with every jerk of his hand, and soon he was whining and panting, legs spread apart so beautifully for your perfect view. 
“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”, you ask while grinding against your pillow, mesmerized by the sight on your display. Seeing a man like Naoya falter so easily at your words alone has you feeling a certain kind of arousal, pooling right in your stomach. 
It makes you want to wreck him entirely. 
Naoya nods and whimpers, using his free hand to play with his nipple piercing, all while his other pumps himself into a higher sphere. His hips are bucking and precum is drooling from his pink tip, making a mess out of him and amplifying the lewd sounds. 
He doesn’t last long, and when he cums thick white ropes fall onto his stomach, his mouth hanging agape. His cheeks are flushed and he mewls while he keeps stroking himself, milking every last drop out of him while chanting your name in a needy voice.
This. This might be your favorite sight ever. 
“Such a good boy. So good for me. Now bend over for me, hm? Show’s not over yet.”
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cyborg-franky · 3 months
Note
Hi! I have a request : an headcanon of sabo, ace and law (separate) react to a usually shy reader asking to bath together ? (I don’t mind any pronouns by the way)
Anyway have a good day/ night and don’t forget to eat and hydrate !!
Ace x GN Reader Law x GN Reader Sabo x GN Reader SFW
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Ace
He laughed when he heard you ask to bathe together, not a mean laugh but one of disbelief. You were just so damn shy that hearing those words from you just tickled him.
Ace blinked a few times when you played with the hem of your sweater and avoided eye contact with him, that was when he stopped laughing and cleared his throat. 
“Really?” He asked and you nodded. When you did force yourself to stop staring at the floor and meet his eye you could see a dusting of blush across his freckled cheeks.
That was surprising. The way Ace talked to people, he would brag about flirting with people whenever the ship was docked. But he was shifting in place, the blush growing as he rubbed the back of his neck, mulling it over.
“Yeah, we can if ya wanna?” He wanted, needed, to hear you confirm again. He didn’t want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.
“I do,”
Ace’s unsure smile soon turned into a big grin as he sprung up from his seat and offered you his hand. “Let's go then!” he said, winking, his usual confidence back in full swing once he knew this was your idea and you wanted this as much as him.
“I’ll try to behave,” he said with a playful waggle of his eyebrows which had you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, taking his hand and feeling him pull you eagerly in the direction of the bathroom.
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Law
“Excuse me?” He asked, pausing from what he was doing, setting down the book and looking at you. You felt the weight of his scrutinizing gaze as grey eyes peered into your soul, at least that's how you felt.
Trying not to shrink under the intensity of his stare you bit the inside of your cheek trying to summon up the courage to repeat yourself “I was just curious if you wanted to go have bathe together. I thought it would be romantic.. Relaxing…”
Law sat back in his seat and hummed. “That’s what I thought you said,” He clicked his tongue as he adjusted in his seat. Neither of you were very forward with such things so it had taken him by surprise when his normally shy partner asked such a thing.
“How about a shower instead? I don’t like baths, it’s st-” “Stewing in your own filth, I know, I know.” You grinned when he blinked at you after you finished his sentence. Law crossed his arms over his chest and just chuckled in response. “Yes, a shower sounds great.”
You felt your heart skip a beat, giddy that he had agreed and you watched him stand up, nodding for you to lead the way.
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Sabo
Sabo stared at you with wide eyes when you asked him that, it wasn’t so much that he knew you to be so shy it was his own hangups on his body. He rubbed his arms, scars hidden by the long sleeves as he looked around the room, not wanting to make eye contact with you.
“Really?” He asked, unsure himself. You seemed to deflate at how he was reacting, you thought he would be surprised to hear that coming from you but he seemed sort of against it which made you regret asking for such an intimacy with him.
“You don’t have to, I just thought it might be nice?” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to act like you weren’t upset by his beating around the bush on his way to refusing you.
“No, no, no, it’s not like that!” He waved his hands before grabbing your shoulders when you tried to back out of the situation. “I just… Not many people have seen how I look without clothes…” 
You worked it out, everything tumbled into place. It wasn’t you it was how he saw himself.
“Don’t worry about your scars, I love every part of you Sabo.” You said, gently reaching up to rub his cheek, feeling the scar that covered his face. “I promise.” You felt him place his hand on yours and he nodded. “Alright, let's do it,”
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pronoun-checks · 4 months
Note
hiihaihii ! could i get a name and pronoun check the name aster and the pronouns it/its, xe/xem , they/them
Sure thing!
Wait a second, is that Aster? I think I see Aster over there! Do you see it? It’s the one sitting by itself with its headphones on. I wonder what it’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Aster before, right? No? Well, you’ll have to meet it sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with xem. I’ve only spoken with xem once or twice, but xe seems pretty neat. Xe didn’t say much about xemself, though. Oh, hey! They’re looking this way now! I think they’re waving at us? Yeah, they’re definitely waving at us. Do you want to go meet Aster? Sure, let’s go say hi to them! Hey! Aster!
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cosmos-coma · 3 months
Text
My Sun, My Star- Part 2
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 7476 (whoops)
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.
Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!
________
“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”
He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 
“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.
“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  
Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 
“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.
As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 
“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 
“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 
“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 
Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”
“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 
“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 
“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 
“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 
----
You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.
Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 
“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.
You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 
Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 
“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 
“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.
“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 
He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.
“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.
“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 
“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….
“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“
“But I-“ 
“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 
You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 
You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.
“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 
“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 
“Doll, I’m sorry-”
“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”
You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 
“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.
Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.
You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 
You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 
You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 
When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 
Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 
A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 
“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.
“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 
“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 
“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”
“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 
“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.
 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”
You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?
You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 
But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 
“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.
You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”
Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”
“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 
Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 
“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 
You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”
“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.
You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 
Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”
Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 
Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”
You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”
“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 
You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 
You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 
“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 
Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 
You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 
This was it. 
--------
Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.
“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 
“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.
“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 
Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-
The apartment. 
Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.
“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 
Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 
“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 
“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.
“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 
“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 
“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.
“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 
A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 
Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 
You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.
Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.
Well, that was the plan anyway.
As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 
“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 
His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 
He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.
You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 
“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 
You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 
“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 
You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 
After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 
‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘
With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.
Silence.
You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 
Quiet.
Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 
With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.
---------
Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 
The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 
Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 
“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 
Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 
He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 
Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 
“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?
He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.
Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.
He would take care of you. 
“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  
Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.
What did he do to you…?
-----
You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 
You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”
“It’s Bucky…”
You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 
“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 
As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 
“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.
“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 
He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 
“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”
But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.
“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 
You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.
You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.
As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.
Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 
He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 
You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 
Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 
“He…” 
Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.
“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.
“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 
Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 
The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 
He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 
When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 
Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 
“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”
“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”
You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 
Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 
“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 
“Doll…” 
“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.
“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”
Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 
“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”
_____________
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moonrisecoeur · 6 months
Note
Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”
OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY
the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^
las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS
also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡
no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)
you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.
“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”
he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”
you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”
“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.
“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”
but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.
“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.
“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.
he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.
“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”
he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.
“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.
you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.
when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”
part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.
instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.
when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”
“wha… what?”
“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.
when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.
“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”
“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”
he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”
“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.
“what?”
“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.
“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.
you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.
he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”
“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”
his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”
“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”
he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.
he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.
but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.
he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.
it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.
somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.
when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.
“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”
“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”
he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.
“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”
he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”
you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.
“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”
he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”
your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”
his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.
“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.
he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.
fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.
“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.
he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.
and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.
still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”
he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.
“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”
and he has no choice but to comply.
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dee-the-red-witch · 1 month
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One more time, with FEELING? (April Pinned)
Now that we're past the first, let's do this. One. More. Time.
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I'm Dee. Queer lesbian trans woman. Just she/her for the pronouns. Not your Responsible Adult, and while I'm safe for MY work, I'm self employed, my bitch of a boss gives zero fucks about adult content, and I believe in a healthy education. Kinky. Poly. Separated. Witch-adjacent. Occultist. Possibly cute/hot according to others. Sex and body positive. What do I do? Art- leatherwork, digital art, and these days, tattooing and tattoo flash. (Click that link for the goods. Tattoos, for locals only, by appointment, etc.)
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Writing- One book (with accompanying tarot deck), two more in edits, several more in progress. Completely unscheduled film/tv reviews and weekly tarot spreads.
I'm also in the process of dealing with a massive work backlog, a life starting to fall apart in a few ways, a transition surgery I'm desperately trying to fund the expenses for, and, y'know, all the wonders of being transfem in late-stage capitalism in a christofascist country.
Yes, that's a lot. Welcome to my life.
Let's get the usuals out of the way. Tipping should be mandatory. Terfs, fash, bigots, can and should fuck off out of here. No, I will not tag NSFW or mature, because it ends up getting creators targeted half the time. And because if you're on here you can learn to consume media critically and censor your own damn experience without me doing it for you. Plastics suck, including your precious vegan leather. Land back. Do it alone. Do it weird. Do it scared. No I don't know what a jerma is, and do not tell me. Yes I do swear. A lot.
I love fantasy, horror, cassette futurism, cyberpunk, brutalism, and all sorts of stuff with it. You want my discord or server? Ask me for either. Yes, I still take voice recording requests, and yes, it's the only form of 'content' I do, though I absolutely support creators of other types like mad. You want to help out? Scroll back up and hit any of those links, or just throw money at me screen here.
Otherwise, that's it. Yes, my inbox and messages are still open for now.
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