#this one song I’m working on keeps referring to ‘you’

[age-of-moonknight]

Night Moves. Marvel Superheroes: Official Game Adventure (Vol. 1/1990), pg. 19.

Designer: Anthony Herring; Editor: Karen S. Boomgarden; Illustrator: John Statema

[kaciidubs]

Talk Dirty [Like You Need Love]

This song has me thinking heavily about expanding this into a fuller fic, so if people end up liking it, maybe I'll go ahead and finish it further! ✧ Summary: Chris was a great friend, picking you up from work whenever you had a late shift - so, it was only fair that you wanted to repay him. ✧  ✧ Word Count: 3.5k ✧ Warnings: Biker!AU, friends to ???, smut, slight dom! Chris, open ended ✧  ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧  ✧ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as Baby, Good Girl, Pretty, Chris is referred to as Baby, Channie ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

The streetlights came and went in intermittent strobes, passing over the two of you as his motorcycle hummed along the sparsely occupied street.

Your arms were wrapped securely around his waist just as he’d taught you, the warmth of your body against his back combating the chill of the crisp night air - he really wished he hadn’t forgotten his hoodie in his rush to pick you up.

“Are you cold?” 

As if reading his mind, your voice floated through the comms of his helmet and he shook his head, “I’m alright, baby - don’t worry about me.”

Of course, you weren’t easily swayed - it was a quality he loved about you, no matter how much he preferred to be the one to look out for everyone else, you were always there to double back on him with undeterrable determination; proved by the way you leaned a little more against his back.

He wouldn’t have thought twice about your sweet gesture if it weren’t for the shifting of your arms, your hands slowly splayed against his torso.

“I always worry about you, Chris…” Your voice was soft, dripping with sweet honey as your right hand wandered its way higher, following the soft defined path of his chest underneath his shirt. “It’s hard not to, if I’m honest.”

He took a short breath, unsure if this was truly happening or if his mind was playing tricks on him and twisting your intentions to fit his deep seated desires.

That is, until your left hand carefully danced its way to his thigh, sitting nicely against the cotton of his sweatpants.

“You always do so much for everyone else- do so much for me,” your hand flexed, nails pressing lightly against his thigh, “I just wanna do something for you in return, you know?”

The bike slowed to a roll as you reached a stoplight, Chris keeping the balance with his otherwise unoccupied leg while taking the opportunity to hold onto the outside of your own thigh.

“Be careful with your words, baby - you might give me the wrong idea.”

“Are my actions not enough?” You murmured, inching your hand higher, fingertips brushing along the inseam of his sweats, “Should I do more, Channie?”

His hand left the brake clutch to wrap around your wrist, electricity flowing through your veins like a completed circuit. “You shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

“But I want this, I need this.”

Your hand squeezed, your voice filling his head like the intoxicating lull of a siren’s call.

“I need you.”

Green.

Chris tapped your thigh, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine when you seamlessly went back to holding onto him just like he taught you; arms around his waist, your body against his back.

The ride to his apartment felt like second nature with you - much like other things he did with you, if he were honest with himself - and the moment he pulled into his parking spot, his movements only felt more natural.

Switch engine off. Kickstand down.

Your hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders as you eased yourself off of his motorcycle, and by the time your touch left him, Chris hopped from his seat with learned grace - his hands unbuckling and taking off his helmet in record time.

By the time your own helmet was off, cradled in your arms, his intense gaze caught your eyes, locking you in a stare off that said more than words could convey, yet their true meaning would be lost to memory with what left his lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He breathed, “Tell me right now and I’ll take you home, and we can pretend none of this happened - just, tell me.”

“Chris,” his name fluttered from your lips like butterfly wings, “I meant every word, I’m sure, I’m so sure-”

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours - the warmth of his palm settling on your cheek in a hold that dared your knees to give out from underneath you - but as fast as they’d appeared, they vanished, leaving you dazedly blinking up at deep brown eyes.

“C’mon.”

The journey up to his apartment was a blur; the melodic chime of the front door’s lock welcoming you to the final stage of your decision as he ushered you through the doorway.

Shoes haphazardly kicked off next to another pile of pairs and helmets stored on a shelf, the empty living room was graced with your presence for what felt like half a second before you were finally where you needed to be.

Chris’s room was a place you’d only been inside of a handful of times, if not to stick your head in to announce your arrival when hanging out with his roommates, then to visit whenever he had a new snippet of a song he wanted to share; there wasn’t a chance for a tour then, and there certainly wouldn’t be a tour now.

With a subtle flick of a switch, the once dark room was suddenly bathed in a dim glow from the led lights lining the ceiling - warm and welcoming, much like the arms that wrapped around you from behind, followed by a soft pair of lips you were quickly getting used to pressing against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His hold grew tighter as his lips ventured higher - a dotted line of kisses, a brush of his breath against the back of your ear, followed by the ghost of his lips along the shell. 

“Are you still sure?”

Your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting to sigh out words evoked from the fantasies of your deepest desires, “I’m yours.”

He turned you around, and for the first time you were able to truly appreciate the feeling of his lips against your own - soft, likely from the myriad of lip care products your friends tease him for, a sensation you could find yourself craving every day and never growing tired of in the end.

You kissed him back with fervor, taking the liberty of cupping the line of his jaw with one hand while the other cradled the back of his neck, the faint curls of his hair tickling your fingertips.

Chris was the first to pull away, gifting you a fleeting peck when you tried in vain to follow him, just to reach overhead and tug his shirt up and off before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. However, he barely gave you the chance to admire the view as his hands went to help you out of your hoodie while your own hands hastily went to tug up your shirt in the messy, frantic process.

Two articles down, the warmth of his hands were now free to meet your waist and his lips were on yours once more; his hold tightening as he took a step forward, nudging and guiding you backward until the backs of your legs met the edge of his bed. Obliging to his silent request, you sat down, using the strength in your arms to wiggle yourself up enough to lay comfortably on the full sized mattress and welcome the weight of him on top of you until it wasn’t.

Looking up, you were met with his heated stare, all but devouring you with his eyes as he took in the view - though, you figured you fared the same way when your eyes ventured down, following the strong slope of his shoulders before taking in the sight of his chest.

It wasn’t a view you hadn’t seen before thanks to his aversion of shirts in his own home - granted, it was his apartment, so you couldn’t fault him for the times he’d come out of his room to see you happily chatting away with his roommates unbeknownst to him - but you could now appreciate the details you wouldn’t have taken in otherwise such as defined pectorals and the smallest beginnings of abs against his otherwise soft stomach.

Ending the unintentional standoff, Chris lent forward, his fingertips just barely grazing your lower stomach as they went to the button of your jeans, “Can I?”

“Please.”

The corner of his lips ticked up but he ducked his head before you could see the smirk blossom, though you couldn’t find yourself to care once your jeans were undone, lifting your hips to help him shuffle the garment down the length of your legs and watching him give them the same fate as your shirts.

“These too?” He mused with a teasing lilt, eyes flicking from your own to the plain black panties you wore.

A short huff brushed past your lips, an unamused pout pursuing them. “Chris.”

The sound of his delighted giggles bounced off the walls, reducing the heat of arousal to a nice simmer that your nerves greatly appreciated - that is, until his fingers hooked underneath the waistband and slowly pulled them off; the sensation of his knuckles dragging along your thighs drawing a soft gasp from you.

It wasn’t long until they were down your legs, past your feet, and dropped off the edge of the bed, leaving you entirely bare from the waist down.

“Fuck…” He breathed, propping his knee on the bed as his hands slid up from your calves to the backs of your knees, caressing your skin before gently bringing them up and out - exposing your pussy to his pure delight. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

A wave of heat washed over you followed by an embarrassed whimper, “Chris, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Looking up, he cocked his head slightly, “You said you were mine, which means I’m allowed to compliment what’s mine, yeah?” He bent down, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your knee softly, “You belong to me, right, baby?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, his words working like a spell against your lust addled mind.

“I belong to you.” You breathed softly, melting into his hypnotizing gaze.

A pleased hum vibrated through him as he dipped his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, his lips brushing against your skin, “Good girl.”

His kisses trailed higher and higher, growing messier and messier as he went - a nip here, a suck there, open mouthed and worshiping until he reached your pussy.

Just as he was about to dive in face first, your hand tugged at his hair, effectively breaking him out of his tunnel vision to give you his undivided attention.

“What’s wrong? Do you wanna stop? I can-”

“No! God, no - it’s just…” You took a deep breath, your bravado escaping you the instant you stopped him, “I want you to eat me out, but I wanna suck your dick too. I wanna make you feel good too, Channie”

“You wanna suck my dick, pretty?” A shiver ran down Chris’s spine at the mere thought, his dick painfully straining underneath his boxer briefs and sweats. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? Words like that coming from a mouth like yours - you’re a fucking dream.”

His presence left from between your legs and part of you felt silly for missing it until you saw him reaching for his sweatpants - even through the black fabric you were able to make out the noticeable bulge tenting the front - the waistband of Calvin Klein nudging you in the right direction of what he wore underneath.

Pushing both articles past his hips, your eyes were immediately glued to the dips in his pelvis - the Adonis belt, a fitting alternate description of his v-line until your attention jumped to a scattering of hair beneath his navel leading to seemingly maintained pubic hair.

However, your peep show was obscured by his head as he bent forward to take his clothes off the rest of the way, giving you the chance to mentally prepare for the grand reveal. By the time he stood straight again, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left you, your eyes widening as you took him in all his glory - all of the jokes his friends would make now having validity behind their digs.

“I hope that’s a good reaction…” Chris spoke sheepishly, his ears as red as a tomato as he averted his eyes to the side, one hand twitching to cover himself while the other anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Chris,” your soft call was enough to bring his eyes back to you, just in time to see you undoing your bra and tossing it to the floor, “I really want you in my mouth, baby.”

The air of shyness quickly left him as he smirked, making his way back onto the bed, “Say please.”

Reaching forward, your fingers danced along the underside of his jaw before you whispered, “Please?”

It was almost instantaneous in the way you found yourself straddled over his face, his hands massaging the plush of your thighs as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they squished and jiggled under his hold.

You leaned forward, eyes eagerly taking in his dick from the new angle; he was thick, probably an inch over average if you had to guess, with the prettiest veins that begged for your tongue to trace them.

“Don’t force yourself to take me, okay?” He called from the other end, the feeling of his breath against your cunt sending chills down your spine. “I know I’m… y’know, big, so I don’t want you to hurt yourself to make me feel good - you letting me do this is more than enough, baby.”

“I can do it Channie,” spitting into your palm, you graciously took him into your hand with a slow stroke, “I’ll be okay.”

A low groan escaped him, your sudden touch sending him into the stratosphere, “Just- Be careful for me, alright?”

Humming in agreement, you wasted no time in littering his tip in butterfly kisses and kitten licks, slowly getting yourself used to the bittersweet taste of his precum.

“Shit…” Not holding himself back any longer, Chris slid his hands up to your hips before pulling you back onto his mouth, his tongue eagerly diving between your folds as if it were an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

The action made you jolt forward, though you barely moved an inch thanks to his hold on you, your lips parting to let a moan float through.

“Mm, not too loud, baby,” he spoke against your pussy, kissing the hood of your clit, “don’t wanna wake up my roommates, yeah?”

As much as the idea called to something daring within you, you shook your head, using this as an opportunity to take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth; just enough to have the weight settle on your tongue while your hand stroked what you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“There you go.”

With that, he went back to exploring your pussy with his tongue, dipping past your walls every now and then before going back to dancing around your clit - his hands enjoying their new home on the curve of your ass.

To say the feeling of his mouth on you was mind numbing would’ve been the understatement of a lifetime - it was as if he was eating you out in the most respectfully disrespectful way, the sounds of his lips sucking your clit paired with low, breathless moans before he went back to lapping up your arousal was pure debauchery.

You tried your best to be diligent, bobbing your head in time with the curls of his tongue against your slit while your fist used whatever drool that dripped from your lips as lubricant to keep each stroke smooth and slick - your efforts not going in vain by the way his thigh would flex, or the twitch of his hips - but you were quickly falling victim to the pleasure.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he mouthed against your pussy, as if moving even an inch away would be detrimental to his psyche, “could stay here forever.”

The thought had you moaning around his cock, pulling away to give your lungs the reprieve of a full breath, only for a whined exhale to follow suit. “C-Chris, please.”

“Please, what?” Flattening his tongue, he licked a fat stripe up before giving your clit the lightest kiss imaginable, “Gonna come for me, pretty? Is that what you want?”

“N-No,” dropping your face to his thigh, you focused all of your energy into keeping your hand moving, “w-wanna make you come first, just- shit, just slow down a little!”

Chris hummed, feigning deep consideration, “But what if I want you to come for me?” His right hand slid further between your legs, his index finger stroking your fluttering walls with the promise of something more, “You said you wanted to repay me - so, let me make you come.”

Your hips bucked, muscles yearning to press back against the pressure to send you over the edge you were dangerously teetering over. “But-”

“Baby,” the velvet drawl of the pet name earned a pitiful hum in response, “you wanna make me feel good, don’t you?” He felt your head nod against his thigh, huffing out a short chuckle before continuing, “You wanna ‘repay’ me for everything I do for you, right?”

“Yes.” You sighed out, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his thumb replacing his finger in favor of toying with your clit.

“Well, guess what?” Dragging his thumb up, he pressed it against your slit, “Watching you come for me- Feeling you come for me is all I could ever want from you,” slowly pushing his thumb past your walls, he ghosted his lips against your inner thigh, “show me how good I’m making you feel, baby - do it for me, please.”

He punctuated his plea by swirling his tongue around your clit once more, thrusting his thumb in time with each flick while his left hand held your hip tightly.

Your mouth fell open, a moan fighting its way through your vocal chords only to come out as choked gasps, “Ch-ah- Channie- Fuck- Channie p-please-”

Pressing his thumb in to the knuckle, Chris wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, humming out a low moan that proved to be the final straw to push you over the edge.

“Chris- C-Chris-!” Lifting your head, you put your mouth over your arm in hopes of muffling the airy moans escaping you, your vision blurring behind pleasure-fueled tears as he worked you through your orgasm.

His thumb slipped from your entrance to make room for his tongue to lap up your cum, drinking you up like a tall glass of water after a day in the sun.

It didn’t take long for you to catch your bearings, going to move away from his face until his hands tightened on your hips in silent challenge, a disgruntled grunt rising from your pure audacity of interrupting him.

“Channie, ‘s too much,” you whined breathlessly, wrenching your hand away from his - still hard - dick in favor of pushing yourself up onto your arms, “c-can’t take it, baby, please.”

Pulling away with a lewd slurp, Chris heaved a heavy breath, combating the lightheadedness of his tunnel vision while you carefully maneuvered yourself away from him - shuffling around to hover your head over a pillow before collapsing in the empty space, your body gratefully welcoming the cool sheets against your skin.

Bated breaths danced in the otherwise quiet atmosphere, Chris’s gaze locked on the ceiling as his lust-fogged brain tried to make sense of what just happened between the two of you.

“Channie?”

His heart fluttered at your soft call of his name, turning his head just to come across a sight that made his breath catch; you, his friend, laying beside him looking beautifully ruined with the golden afterglow of your orgasm that he gave you emanating from your body.

He tentatively licked his lips, goosebumps rising as your taste still lingered in his mouth, “Yeah, baby?”

“I still wanna make you come.” You murmured softly, eyes blinking at him so innocently it almost felt wrong that it made his dick twitch at the sight. “I still owe you, after all.”

Chris huffed out a chuckle, lifting himself onto his forearm before hoisting himself above you, settling his hips between your legs as he caged you in with his arms - this was a sight he could get used to.

“Instead of making this out to be you repaying a debt, how about we turn it into a ‘thank you’ gift, hm?” Leaning his head down, he brushed his nose against yours, “You thank me for the ride and the orgasm,” his lips ghosted against your own, “then I thank you for thanking me.”

“Chris, that won’t make any sense,” your voice was barely a whisper, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, “if you thank me, I’ll just thank you back - we’ll be in a loop.”

“We’ll work out the details later, then.” He murmured before leaning forward, catching your lips with his and sharing your taste off of his tongue.

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[limethefirst]

Guard Dogs

pairings: Deadpool x reader x Wolverine

warnings: drinking, violence, swearing, creepy guy in a bar, crude humor

summary: you never have to worry when you go out, your guard dogs are always there to protect you

a/n: can be perceived as romantic or platonic, it’s not specified! Also I want to thank everyone who’s been supporting my stories and all the kind words I’ve received!

Going out alone wasn’t something you liked to do, but unfortunately there were a lot of instances in which you had to. The world itself wasn’t a safe place, both Wade and Logan knew that, in fact it was one of the few things they could always agree on.

Today was no different, do your usual chores, relax, eat, work, but there was something else you wanted to do, a little treat for all your hard work, “Let’s go drinking tonight!”

Wade and Logan looked up from whatever they were doing. You had bursted into their apartment without a notice.

It was normal for all three of you to hang out, but it was unusual for you guys to all go to a bar together. Logan was the heaviest drinker of the group, he knew where to go, Wade would go with his friends mostly, and you didn’t treat yourself to this as much.

“Alright,” Logan mumbled, his eyes on whatever stories the local news channel had on, controller in one hand his head in the other.

“Woah the big bad wolf wants to be seen out with us?!” Wade exclaimed, referring to Logan, “Sign me up!” Logan rolled his eyes at the comment his ‘friend’ made, not in the mood to argue with him.

“Okay I’ll be back at 7,” You told the men, closing the door heading back to your own apartment.

“I need to go put on my good toupee!” Wade claps his hands together, heading towards his bathroom, grabbing the staplers on his way.

Logan’s eyes still glued to the television yells over to him, “They’re all ugly don’t worry.” Wade flips him off, closing the door.

Getting ready was something that made time fly by, because before anyone knew it 7 was already here. The three musketeers were ready for their adventure.

Logan led the way, knowing the best places in the city despite being here for the shortest amount of time. Wade was on your right fixing his “hair system” as he made some snarky remarks at Logan.

You walked close to Wade unaware of what was going on.

The bar was nice, it had some stools, a few benches and normal tables for bigger groups. Logan sat himself on the stools by the bartender knowing he’d get liquor much faster this way. Wade sat a seat away from Logan leaving you space in the middle of the two, which you didn’t mind at all.

“Give me another drink,” Logan called to the bar keep.

“There you go just fucking up that liver again,” Wade smirked at him, just trying to get under his skin.

“Shut the fuck up before I rip off that toupee and shove it right up your-”

Before Logan could finish Wade quickly put his finger up to his mouth, “Woah there peanut, I don’t do pegging on the first date,”

“If this wasn’t a public bar I’d cut that oversized head of yours off,”

You laughed as Logan and Wades bickering continued. Suddenly you noticed as the music seemed to turn off, normally you wouldn’t mind but tonight a nice song would’ve been good so you quietly excuse yourself from the situation.

You found yourself walking over to the jukebox; your eyes examining the song selections before picking ‘Million Dollar Man’ by Lana Del Rey (Ldr mentioned).

Having put on your song you found yourself walking back to the stool seat before a man walked in front of you.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing by herself?” His tone was slurred, obviously from drinking too much. He wasn’t tall and he looked like he’d just woken up.

You gave a quiet sigh, “Oh I’m not alone,” You gave him a slight smile hoping he’d get the memo.

The man looked around and smiled creepily at you, “I don’t see anyone” He slowly took some more steps closer to you.

“How ‘bout now Bub,” Logan’s voice boomed from behind you, you felt his hand on your shoulder.

The creep gave an annoyed eye roll. Logan was taller than the man by a lot, and was definitely more intimidating.

“We were just talking, why don’t you leave us alone?” He began to mock Logan, this only riled him up some more.

“I’ll give you three seconds to walk away before I get serious,” Logan’s eyes were trained on the man, his arms were now crossed over his chest, visibly annoyed.

The man let out a dry chuckle, “Yeah okay what are you gonna do buddy?”

“We’re gonna fuck you in the ass,” Wade said as he showed up behind the man and grabbed his head, smashing it into the bar. Logan then brought the man back up just to knee him in the stomach before throwing him on the ground.

Everyone else started to get up after seeing the commotion, obviously itching for a fight, but you didn’t waste anytime for that grabbing both men and running out of the bar.

“Jesus Wade did you have to say that?” You asked him, wondering why he thought ass play was a threat.

“Do not use my name in vein,” he responded, clearly unbothered by his remark.

Logan gruffed at the evening you guys had, visibly tired from all that went on.

“We need to stop going out together,” you said looking at the street light.

“Let’s watch a movie at my place next time!” Wade offered, a cheery expression on his face.

“Yea whatever but you better not pick a fucking porno again,” Logan glared at him remembering the last time Wade picked a movie for the three of you to watch.

“I think it makes for good team bonding!”

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer with an artist reader

・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️

warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.

He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.

When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.

At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”

Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.

Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.

He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.

If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was ASMR for the King of Hell.

You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.

You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.

Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.

“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”

You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.

Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.

His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.

And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.

“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”

“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”

“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.

Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.

“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.

“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”

“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”

“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”

You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.

“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.

Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.

Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.

And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.

“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“

Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.

“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”

He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.

When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.

“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”

Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.

In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.

Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.

For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.

“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.

You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.

You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.

When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.

“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.

There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.

You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.

Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.

“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.

Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.

Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.

“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.

“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?

“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”

Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.

“Fine.” You conceded.

“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.

The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.

After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.

“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”

You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.

“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”

“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.

You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.

Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.

Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.

“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.

“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.

A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.

“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.

“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”

You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.

“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.

Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.

“Alright, I suppose so.”

You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.

‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’

Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.

You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.

At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.

You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?

“Charlie?” You asked slowly.

The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.

You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.

“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.

“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.

“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.

Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”

“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.

“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”

You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.

“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”

“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”

You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.

“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.

This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.

Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.

“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”

You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”

“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.

You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.

In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.

“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.

Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.

You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.

Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.

Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.

You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.

“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”

You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.

“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.

Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?

You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.

You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,

His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.

Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?

His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.

He replied with a wave of his fingers.

You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.

“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.

What the hell was he doing?!

“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”

Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.

“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”

He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.

A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.

Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.

“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.

Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.

You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.

“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”

Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.

“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?

You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.

“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.

“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.

Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.

His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.

You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.

Did he just tense?

Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.

You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.

“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.

His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.

You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.

Taking a step back, you admired your work.

You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.

“And one more thing…” You started.

Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.

“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.

You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.

You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.

Maybe now this would be an even match.

“Begin.”

Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.

“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.

“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”

“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”

The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.

Then, he turned his head to you.

“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.

“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”

The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.

The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.

You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.

For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.

With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.

Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.

“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.

Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.

“Careful~” He chided.

You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.

You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.

“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”

“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”

You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”

He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.

Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.

This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.

To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.

Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.

You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.

You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.

Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.

Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?

You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.

“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”

“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.

“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.

“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”

“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”

Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.

“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”

You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.

“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.

“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.

You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.

“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.

“You did?”

“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”

“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.

You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.

“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.

“Ask what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”

His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.

You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.

“As always.”

His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.

As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.

“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.

His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.

You promised silently it wasn’t.

The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.

Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.

“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”

——————

🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!

💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?

[ham1lton]

SHE’S SO LUCKY, SHE’S A STAR!

pairing: charles leclerc × famous!reader.

warnings: mentions of mental health. slightly angsty.

summary: lucky is the dream girl. she has everything. the man, the career, and the fame…. or does she?

faceclaim: britney spears ♡

author’s note: this has been in my drafts for SO long. glad to share it with you. let me know if you enjoyed it! <3

— part of the diva anthems series ♪

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liked by lucky, landonorris and 1,383,737 others.

charles_leclerc: happy music video release day to the love of my life! thank you for letting me be a part of your journey. i’m your biggest fan until the end of the road.

also keep an eye out for my cameo on oops!… i did it again - out now! :)

tagged: @ lucky

view all 234,982 comments

user1: he’s so whipped it’s adorable. he truly loves her.

user2: the album is so good. this is crazy!! the album of the year.

*liked by charles_leclerc*

user3: favourite song?

-> charles_leclerc: i love them all…. but dear diary.

user4: charles in his acting era omg.

-> user5: charles leclerc: f1 driver, astronaut, actor and official wag to thee yn.

-> user6: lucky has his ass WORKING 😭

user7: charles going from having a crush on yn to dating her?? he needs to give me his game card. i need to use it on theo james.

user8: OOPS U THINK IM IN LOVE THAT IM SENT FROM ABOOOOOOVVVVEEE

-> user9: IM NOT THAT INNOCENTTT

user10: video vixen charles 😍

user11: the titanic reference omg!!!

lucky: i love you!!! i’m your biggest fan. this album wouldn’t be here without you. 💕

-> charles_leclerc: 💕

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"so are we ready for the tour" your manager speaks to your team. you're wearing a threadbare t-shirt that you stole from charles' wardrobe and a pair of jeans that were more comfortable than stylish.

no one commented on your lack of makeup.

“i can't do a tour." you say, softly.

“you have to. it's the best way to make money. the more shows you do, the more money you make."

“it’s not that. it's just... i'm tired." being lucky, the superstar was a façade. one that you felt that only you could pull off.

it took a certain amount of mental fortitude to lie to everyone in your life.

"maybe next year? can we delay it at least?"

"what about your fans? you know the music industry, yn. the less you strike while the iron is hot, the bigger the chance you’ll be irrelevant when the next new thing comes out.” a executive says. “besides, we’ve already announced it.”

to be genuinely honest, you didn’t care. it would have been absolutely fine for you to retire now. you felt that you’d made your mark. tours would drag you away from your loved ones, they require constant discipline and a lot of effort. something which you didn’t have a lot of at the moment.

“okay. how many shows?”

“not too many. around 80/90.”

you bite your inner cheek and nod. there isn’t anything else you can do.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by billieeilish, beyoncé and 2,493,928 others.

lucky: this has been a work that has been lovingly crafted by so many people. i want to thank my team, everyone who helped to bring this album to life. my best friend who would always bring coffee to set, my makeup artist and stylist tina who helped me create this gorgeous look and my incredible fans who make every release one i look forward to sharing to you. ‘oops!… i did it again’ is out now!

also i see you already getting your red jumpsuits ready for halloween!! tina’s already posted a list of makeup products on her ig - @makeupbyti.

also the biggest thank you to my biggest fan, my confidante and my forever muse - @charles_leclerc. this album wouldn’t be possible without you. thanks for being my first listener. i love you till the end of the road 💕

view all 107,928 comments

user1: THANK YOU TINA!

-> lucky: we love tina in this household 💕

user2: “HER FOREVER MUSE” excuse me while i sob, scream and perhaps cry.

-> user3: i need a love like theirs one day.

user4: ALBUM BANGS

user5: NOW IM STRONGER THAN YESTERDAY!

-> user6: NOW IT’S NOTHIN BUT MY WAY

-> user7: MY LONELINESS AINT KILLIN ME NO MOREEE!

user8: ONE KISS FROM YOU!! AND SUDDENLY

-> user9: I SEE THE ROAD LEAD OUT IN FRONT OF MEEEE

user10: IM A CMULM STAN! SOTY!!!! 😋

billieeilish: thank you for letting me help write some songs alongside you. i love you 🖤

-> lucky: love you the most billie. thank you!!

-> user4: this is my favourite music friendship. so cute.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

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you pull out your phone when you see charles ringing. you smile to yourself and lie it against the pillow across from you. when the facetime connects, you see he’s in the same position as you. sleep rumbled with flushed cheeks and twinkly eyes.

you want to kiss him but you’re in amsterdam and he’s in madrid. you doubt you would even have time to make it, even if you could justify the expense to your team.

“hi sweet girl.” he grins at you. “you look pretty.”

“you’re prettier. didn’t you see the tweets? i manifested you.” you laugh slightly. “lucky girl with a gorgeous boyfriend.”

“opposite way around actually. lucky guy.”

“i miss you.” you sigh, looking around your hotel room. it’s gorgeous. it has everything you could possibly want or need and if it didn’t, a quick phone call downstairs would immediately rectify that. but you miss charles. you miss your best friend. you miss your home.

“i miss you too. next time i get a break i’m flying to wherever you are and that’s a promise. okay?”

“okay.”

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FIVE MONTHS LATER.

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liked by messyfan1, messyfan2 and 1,827,346 others

ham1ltonshaderoom: according to sources, singer yn yln and athlete charles leclerc have broken up. the reason being that their busy schedules had gotten too intense for the two of them to handle. singer yn, also known by her stage name lucky, has just embarked on her newest world tour and driver charles is currently travelling for his f1 races.

sources state that their families and friends were all ‘shocked’ by the news as it seemingly came out of the blue. with one party stating that he had seen them only a month earlier and they were ‘all over each other’:

view the link in bio for more information, but how are we feeling at the demise of the power couple ham1ltons?

view all 497,868 comments

user1: well how is he gonna stay relevant now?

-> user2: he’s an f1 driver. i think he’ll be fine.

-> user1: don’t gaf. he’s a flop. how do you fumble THEE yn yln?

user3: NOOOOOOOOOO JUST FELL TO MY KNEES

user4: wait um… why am i happy… yn is single now

user5: him breaking up with her because she got successful is sick. men always want to destroy a woman when they become more successful than them.

-> user6: we don’t know that’s why they broke up or that he was the one who initiated. it could have been her or it could have been mutual.

user7: good. he’s been driving like shit since he started dating her.

-> user8: okay now that’s a lie 😭

user9: this is so sad. they were in love just before she went on the tour. could they not handle long distance?

-> user10: probably not. while yn was writing and recording, she was able to be more flexible so she would travel with charles wherever he went but being on tour means she can’t do that.

-> user11: this makes me believe it was his fault and he broke up with her.

-> user10: i always hated them together anyways. athletes are always bad news.

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liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 1,626,727 others.

charles_leclerc: leo, frank and i.

view all 238,727 comments

user1: the dog is so cute :(

user2: is it true y’all?? did they really break up?

-> user3: they kept all the pictures of each other on their profile and he still follows her.

user4: CHARLES MARC HERVÉ PERCEVAL LECLERC WHAT IS GOING ON 😭

user9: the frank song… oh they’re over :(

-> user10: he’s playing SELF CONTROL too 😭😭

-> user11: is the lyric choice deliberate? yn cried on stage the other day :(

-> user12: idk omg. it sounds like a dick move if so… poor lucky :((

user5: that f1 gossip page was lowkey right because yn is halfway through her tour and he hasn’t been to ONE tour date.

-> user6: thats lowkey crazy when u consider how she would always come to his races to support him.

user7: i just want them back together :( they were the only celeb couple i could stomach.

-> user8: no deadass. they were my taylor/travis.

user13: frank ocean…. this is the most post-breakup ex boyfriend post ever 😭 charlesynnies we lost.

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PARTIAL PHONE TRANSCRIPT BETWEEN YN YLN AND CHARLES LECLERC. — LEAKED BY TMZ.

YLN (CRYING): i hate it. i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry charles. i didn’t want to do it. i just can’t do it anymore.

LECLERC: hey, it’s okay. i get it. it’s okay. i’m not upset with you. i’m not angry.

YLN: i fucking hate touring. i hate it so much. it takes everything from me. i broke up with you because i knew you’d get tired of me. that the tour would make me a shell of myself and you’d inevitably dislike me.

LECLERC: where did you get that from?

YLN: that’s what my ex did. i don’t even blame him.

LECLERC: but i’m not him. i understand that it takes a lot from you but a relationship isn’t supposed to be 50/50 all the time. sometimes it’s 90/10 or 70/30. it’s okay for me to help you. you’ve already done what? two thirds of the tour? not too much left to get through and then you’ll be free. you can do it.

YLN: i know. i just hate it. i love my fans and i love making music but the tour is just too much. this is my third tour in two years…. i miss you. i’m sorry.

LECLERC: i miss you too yn. there is nothing to be sorry about.

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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 2,837,123 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: tmz leaked the audio of a emotional phonecall between exes superstar yn yln, more famously known as lucky, and f1 athlete charles leclerc. the two minute leak has the global superstar crying about her current tour and her ex-boyfriend comforting her.

what do we think of the leak ham1ltons?

view all 789,927 comments

user1: oh this is so disgusting my god.

user2: whoever leaked this go to hell. this was very much a private moment between the two.

user3: yn’s management need to let her take a break. a album and a world tour EVERY YEAR is insane!!! i’m surprised she hasn’t burnt out yet.

-> user4: she’s reaching the end of her rope and that makes sm sense. this is a insane amount of work and she’s only in her early twenties!!!

user5: charles was so sweet. at least we know it wasn’t his fault but i feel so much for lucky :( she doesn’t deserve this.

user6: poor lucky :( her management should go to hell!!!

user7: she needs more people looking out for her. this is awful. why would someone even record this anyways???

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liked by ynswifey, messyass1 and 828,726 others.

charlesupdates: charles was spotted in rio de janeiro/galeão–antonio carlos jobim international airport! he signed a bunch of stuff for fans and then had to head off before taking any pictures! i wonder where he’s headed? 🤔

view all 124,837 comments

user1: OMGGGGG

user2: LUCKY IS PERFORMING IN RIO DE JANEIRO

user3: CHARLESYN BACK TOGETHER AGAIN THANK YOU GOD PLEASE

user4: PLEASE PLEASE

user5: ITS HER LAST TOUR DATE PLEASE

user6: i’ve never been this invested in a celebrity relationship ever but i really want this for both of them!!! they seem miserable without each other.

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liked by charles_leclerc, billieeilish and 3,938,737 others.

lucky: and that’s a wrap on the world tour! thank you to all of my incredible fans, the hardworking and talented team behind the scenes and my family and friends for being there for me throughout everything.

a lot of things have been speculated upon and discussed on the internet about me and my life. i am aware of my status and how it endorses these sort of conversations about me but i just want to encourage kindness. we don’t know what someone is going through and a little compassion can go a long way.

i will be taking some time off for my own personal reasons as the tour has wrapped up, but i will see you next year. i love you! stay lucky!!! 💕

tagged: @ charles_leclerc

view all 1,562,828 comments

user1: WAR IS OVER THANK YOU LORD!!!!!!

user2: take all the time u need lucky!!! we love you!!!

user3: CHARLESYNNIES HOW WE FEELIN??

user4: THE PIC OMG! they’re so cute :(

-> user5: yn was so happy at this concert, and charles was spotted there all four nights!!!

-> user6: i love them 🥺🥺🥺

user7: lucky i hope u spend this time having fun and relaxing!!! u deserve it!!

user8: missed seeing charles being tagged in every lucky post…. IM SO HAPPY THEYRE BACK TOGETHER.

billieeilish: i love u :(

-> lucky: i love u too!!! i’m still around!!! always :)

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liked by lucky, arthur_leclerc and 1,726,828 others.

charles_leclerc: home ♥️

tagged: @ lucky

view all 236,727 comments

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— diva anthems taglist: @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @chuxk-lerclerk @ivyvlair @luvsforme @claymoreshaze @mehrmonga

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong

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[flowershines]

Unbearable Feelings

School Rival Virgin. Jungwon x F. Reader

Summary: Two academic rivals have to share a tent and an enclosed area from the class due to not enough space. (Huddle for warmth)

Warnings: Smut, mentions of baby trapping, rivals, virgin Jungwon, switch Jungwon, car break down, mutual masterbation

Song to represent Unbearable Feelings:

Hallways filled with people as they moved from one class to the other, glancing around the hallway as music ran through your ears trying to keep your mind occupied by reviewing the vocab you had to study for your next class. Mumbling as you tried to remember the phrases, looking up to try and think of the words that were somewhere in your mind, letting out a frustrated sigh as you just could not remember. Taking out the paper from behind your phone as you swiftly look at the phrase and repeating the french translation in your head, glancing at the wall closest to you still repeating the word and its definition in your mind. Moving onto the next line you said the phrase in your head then referring to see your paper if you had gotten it right, you did.

Feeling a pair of eyes look at you, your gaze was met with the one guy you despised, don't get me wrong he was okay and everything but you both had always wanted to be the top of your class. Debate after debate you would win then him then tie then repeating that order, you never understood why he always argued back all he talked about was getting into his dream job but getting into that business doesn’t depend on a stupid debate that you had won so why was he taking it so serious.

Quickly breaking eye contact then softly returning your gaze to him a figure appeared in front of you, turning your head to the wall and letting out a huff of air, a headphone was pulled from in your ear into the boy's hand. “Go away, Jungwon.” He placed his hand on his chest and opened his mouth as a way to act, referring to how ‘offended’ he was. Rolling your eyes he said, “I’m actually great company Y/n, see now you would notice if you really cared.” “Wow that's crazy cause honestly I don't care about you enough to want to know.” Opening your eyes wide and leaving your mouth open ajar to show your sarcasm. “Ouch, what’cha studying?” He asked, ripping the paper from your grasp, looking at the paper, “You don’t know these, I already know them all.” “Yeah okay.” a sarcastic laugh fell from your lips. “Say the English, I'll translate for you since you're having a hard time.” scoffing at his confidence you replied saying “Send a text message.”

Turning to him waiting for his reply “Envoyer un texto, évidemment stupido.” ( _, obviously stupid.) “Ha Ha very funny, how do you say I am a very ignorant man?” turning to him waiting for an actual answer from your sarcasm, “Je me tiens à côté d'une petite fille ignorante.” (I'm standing next to an ignorant little girl.) “Va te faire foutre.” (Fuck you) walking faster to try to get away from him he speeded up his pace as well, “Wait where are you off so fast?” “My class, just leave me alone, I don't know why you love to bug me.” “Was it something I said?” “Isn’t it always?” You told him walking faster as he stopped walking and just stood, finally arriving at your class you put your phone in your bag and continued to study your vocab till your mind was occupied on the paper your french teacher put over your paper lifting your head you saw her giving one to every classmate, including Jungwon.

Looking back at the paper you read from top to bottom, ‘French Trip, all students who wish to partake in this trip must give a $10 fund and sign the paper below. The trip starts 1.12.23 till 3.12.23 when finished hand in back to the teacher when done.’ Maybe this will give you some time to yourself which is much needed, spending time at your apartment with your roommate isn't always your favorite thing to do, she would always bring people over when you studied but it just made you want to work harder so that way when people see the new person you would become and how successful you were would be the best part.

But of course Jungwon just loved to ruin these things for you, he always had since you both started the same school. His priorities were your priorities, not to mention the business he wanted to go to was not even the best job out there, being as smart as he is you thought he would want to get into a better job but it was a business that almost everyone gets into. I mean if it's his dream who were you to stop him you just thought it was odd. Class was like any other class with Jungwon starting by the teacher teaching the lesson following by you asking a question on the assignment as Jungwon tells it to you and proceeds to make a blunt remark following his explanation back to you telling him off, starting an argument with him till the teacher tells you both to stop and get your work done.

But today was different. You didn’t ask any questions and just stayed to yourself the whole class, making no remarks, nothing, you barely even spoke to your classmates. You could feel Jungwons gaze seeping in through your soul, refusing to look up at him. You just continued with your work till the teacher assigned the homework and made a joke saying how quiet the class was that day, making the class look at you and Jungwon even then you didn't say anything. She passed out the homework then dismissed the class, standing up putting your bag on your chair. You took out your folder and placed the homework in there then proceeded to put it in your bag looking up from your bag you were met face to face with the one person who made you want to stay quiet that day.

“What do you want?” You asked while zipping up your backpack then putting it on, “You were quiet.” “Yeah so?” “Nothing I liked it, you should do it more often.” Lips touching each other making a straight line across your face then nodding. “Noted, you done?” “Yup.” Rolling your eyes and shaking your head he walked right by your side till you were by the doors to leave the school, “Where are you going we still have English?” “I know, I'm not going.” Opening the doors, he asked “Why?” “I wanna go home, I'm tired.” not waiting for his response you left the building getting your car keys out from your back, you knew it wasn't the best thing to skip out on English but it was the last class and you had nothing major going on that day.

The whole rest of the day you spent in your room studying and trying to make up the english work that you missed, she had emailed you the work as you told her you weren't feeling well and had to go home. The next day walking into the building was the same thing as yesterday going to the same classes, French class was the same as well you turned in the slip as the trip would be later today. Whole class she told the people who were going on the trip to stay in the class and the rest who weren't going to the library and study for any other class, almost the whole class left except for 6 other students not including you. Of course your favorite person in the whole world had to go on the trip as well, but you just figured you wouldn’t talk to him and actually enjoy yourself without him.

You noticed how for the past classes you had with him, he hasn’t made any comments, no rude remarks, barely tried to talk to you, no arguing, nothing. A part of you felt at peace with yourself being able to do all of your work and had extra time to study for upcoming topics, today was the day you had the trip. Being so excited to be by yourself with your classmates that you never really minded except Jungwon, you minded if he was going. Heading home from school you start to pack your bag with your pj’s, toothbrush, toothpaste, blanket, outfits, the book you had been reading in your free time, along with other unimportant things as well. The french teacher emailed the individuals to meet back at the school around 4:30pm being 4:05 you changed into more comfortable clothes then headed to the school, arriving there a couple minutes early you see almost all of the students that were attending including the teacher.

She had told everybody the address of where the place was, telling everyone their partner who they would be driving with as they would take one person from the pair's car. As the teacher called out the pairs the only person who you hoped not to get you had gotten as a partner, he looked at you as you looked at him pulling your eyes away from his stare you refused to look back at him not wanting to look at him as you will for a couple of hours already, great.

“We are taking my car.” You told him as he came closer to you after the teacher had finished talking, not giving him any time to respond back you started to head to your car surprisingly he followed in your footsteps back into your car. Unlocking you placed your bag in the back seat waiting for him to catch up and held out your hand to tell him to give you his bag, he reached his hand up to yours and placed the bag handles in your hand.

“So this is what it feels like to have you as a personal slave.” “Yeah, don’t get used to it.” You gave him a sarcastic smile and shut the car door behind you walking over to the driver's side of the car. Starting the car you see Jungwon in your peripheral vision putting on his seat belt and acting all sporadically holding the seatbelt with a tight grip. “The fuck are you doing?” “You got a helmet?” “Why would I have a helmet?” He shrugged “For your passengers.” “The seatbelt should be enough.” “I don’t think so Y/nie, your driving isn't the best I see you swerve all the time.” “Bull shit, I’m a good driver you on the other hand that's a different story.” He giggled at your remark, you softly smiled as you found his smile heartwarming but thought to yourself why were you smiling at him, HIM.

Immediately putting a straight face on not wanting him to see you smiling at his smile, putting the car into reverse then starting to drive Jungwon was being as annoying as he can distracting you so much from driving, “Omg Jungwon shut the fuck up.” He slowly turned his head raising one eyebrow making a disgusted face, “So mean” He signed sarcastically looking down pretending to be upset at your remark. After glancing at him you returned your gaze to the road, hearing a loud noise coming from the back of your car, “Did you just get rear ended?” “No, it sounded loud but we didn't get rear ended.” Blinking his eyes in confusion, “You sure?” you hummed at him to let him know that we were okay. “Then why are we slowing down?” “Jungwon shut up, I don’t know.” “It’s your car you should know.”

Rolling your eyes you pulled over on the side of the road, you put the car in park not wanting it to move as you went to check out what happened. Unlocking your seatbelt and stepping out of the car swearing to yourself as your tire was flat against the pavement on the side of the road, “I heard you, is everything okay.” he asked from the passengers in the car, “Flat tire.” stepping out of the car he appeared in front of you on the opposite side of the car as he slowly walked over to you to see the condition you guys were in. “You got a spare on you.” “No.” “Hasn’t your boyfriend or anyone ever told you it would be a SMART idea too.” “Well I don't have a boyfriend so nobody ever warned me about this stuff.” “So what would you think if this ever happened?” Looking directly at him shrugging your shoulders you, “Just call someone or hope for the best i guess.” He huffed and rolled his eyes pulling out his phone from his pocket, he ran his fingers through his hair frustrated as he couldn't get a signal, the only lighting found from the woods was the light of his phone that was resting in his palms.

“Are you getting a signal?” Taking out your phone as well and going to make a call nothing was going through saying the connection failed even trying the emergency call, it would only let you call the police. It wasn’t that big of a deal to call the police so you decided not to. “No, what are we supposed to do?” Looking up at him with doe eyes, holding your arms as a gust of wind ran through your hair along with the t-shirt you were wearing. “Maybe we should just stay here till someone comes or till we get a connection.” Walking back to the car you sighed before getting in as tears brickled at your eyelashes threatening to fall, Jungwon noticed before he was able to get in he shut the door of the passengers side making a tear fall down your cheek from being scared and embarrassed. All of the sudden the door on your side was opening to reveal him standing at your door.

He grabbed your wrists and took them so you weren't sitting but standing outside the car door, he pulled your wrists around his waist letting go then placing his hand around your neck. “It’s not your fault, these things just happen, it's nothing to get upset over.” He told you to pull away, looking down at you, wiping away your tears, hugging you tighter. “We can still have a good time if that will make you feel better, I brought a tent with us.” You looked up at him then hugged him tighter, he giggled. “Is that a yes?” You nodded against his chest, pulling away you cried even more noticing how you had gotten mascara smudged all over his shirt. “I'm sorry.” You told him sniffling as your hands went to your face to hide yourself in the state you were in, “Don’t worry about it, I bright extra shirts.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the car where all of your things had been in, taking out the duffel bag that had the tent in it and placing it in your arms. He grabbed a shirt from his bag and followed you into the forest not that far away from your car and not too deep into the forest as you had never seen the area before not wanting to walk into random animals territory.

Unzipping the duffel bag you went to turn around to ask him for help but you were faced with a shirtless Jungwon standing in front of you, not saying a word you quickly turned your head around, face starting to heat up you tried to pull your mind away form the image you just saw but you couldn't he just looked so gorgeous like that in front of you. He walked over to you with a smirk on his face as he was biting the inside of his lip, “Can’t look at me now, Y/n?” not saying anything you continued to act like you were busy reading the instructions he pulled them out of your hands, still not looking at him you looked into the woods. “Look, it's so pretty.” You were referring to the moon shining down on the trees making the river that ran through the trees sparkle, “So pretty.” walking to stand in front of you making perfect eye contact with his cock.

“OKAY.” You said shooting up from your spot, “Let's make this.” He smiled and took the lead looking at the instructions and starting to build the tent. Not long after the tent was all built you got off from your knees as you were pushing the tent pegs into the ground to make sure that the tent would stay in place. Unzipping the tent and crawling in you went in and sat down in the corner as you watched him get in the tent as well, “I’ll go get the blankets, you want anything from the car?” “Just my bag please.” “Such a polite girl.” He said, exiting the tent grabbing the things, hearing him walk back he came back and threw your bag at you, “You know what time it is?” “Like almost 10 I think” He pulled out his phone to check the time, “10:34” yawning, you covered your mouth and turned the other way not wanting him to notice how tired you were, “You tired?” He asked while setting up both of your beds.

“Nope.” “You're such a liar.” Shaking his head while giggling at your comment, “Just go to bed.” “But you're still up.” “Yeah I stay up late, go to bed if you're tired I'll still be here when you wake up.” Smiling softly at his comment as you noticed how he has never acted this soft around you before, he moved aside letting you be able to crawl to your spot, “I still have to get into my pj’s though.” “Nobody is stopping you.” “Turn around.” “Y/n I won't look, I swear I'm still making my bed.” “Swear.” “Pinky swear.” Taking off your sweatshirt and shirts from your bag you started to stake off your shirt as you made direct eye contact with the man in front of you, he immediately turned back around. Continuing you took off your shirt and put your sweatshirt on standing up after you're done and pulling down your pants grabbing your shorts that barely covered your ass and putting them on. “Okay, all done.” He turned around to look at you, he just stared at your thighs in awe his cheeks blushed not being able to look away it looked like he was in some sort of trance. He slowly looked away in embarrassment knowing that you saw him staring at you that way, he crawled into his bed as you got into yours as well he went on his phone and turned around so that way he wasn't facing you. Shutting your eyes and drifting off into your dreams you were awakened by shivering throughout your whole body, no light was being portrayed in the tent.

“Won?” He hummed back, “Are you cold?” “No, are you?” you hummed he sighed, “Come over here.” Unzipping your sleeping bag you crawled over to him and he had it held open as his back was now against the tent, so now he can see you. “Is there going to be enough space?” You asked him, “I don’t know, just get in here.” He shook the sleeping referring to how you should get in, crawling in next to him getting as far away as possible but still being able to zip it up again. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer and zipped up the sleeping bag, “So far away, you scared of me or something.” He asked sarcastically whispering in your ear, a shiver trailed down your spine from being this close to him and feeling his breath on your neck along with on your ears as well. “No?” He hummed, “You should be good now, go back to sleep.” following his suggestion you closed your eyes once again, fading away into dreamland, waking up you noticed you heard some noises coming from Jungwon behind you. Turning towards the side you noticed him still sleeping, rolling back to the side you were just on and closing your eyes thinking that you were probably just imagining the sound, but the noises got louder as you felt something rubbing up against you upper thigh. NO FUCKING WAY, IS HE… NOO.

Shuffling was heard behind you as a hand trailed down to your waist turning around you were facing him eye to his closed eyes that were closed tightly shut, his face alone made you think of him in certain ways. His eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes tightly shut, the veins on his neck were popped out, nose scrunching up and his bottom lip was placed in between his teeth. You felt something tap on you then go back, was that his dick? Heavy breathing was heard from him as his you would hear his breathing stop then go again the go but shake as he let out the air. Soft moans were pulled from his mouth, you just watched as he fell apart right in front of you his hands around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer thrusting his cock up against you rubbing against your pussy. A moan loud enough for you to hear fell from his lips from the friction, staring at him butterflies filled your stomach as his thrusts became more intense as his breathing became less clear and all over the place.

His eyes fluttered, not wanting him to catch you staring you immediately shut your eyes pretending to be asleep. He moaned the loudest as his hip shuttered against you, he had woken up just after he came which was starting to seep through his pants and onto your bare thighs. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He whisper shouted not knowing what to do, he pulled the waistband away from his putting his hand down his pants. “I came?! Oh shit, she asleep?” He sighed in relief seeing you ‘sleeping’ beside him, he let go of his pants and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag and exiting it. He cursed to himself as he went to crawl over you his leg ran up against your thigh realizing that there was a wet spot on his leg, lifting up the sleeping bag he noticed his cum dripping down your thigh trailing down to your ass.

He swore he could cum again just from seeing that sight, “Oh Fuck, what do i do? Fuck i’m still hard to.” He looked down noticing the tent in his pants, picking up his phone he checked the time it was almost 2 he was exhausted and just wanted to be in his bed which would allow him to jerk off to the dream he was having about you. He wanted to jerk off so bad seeing his cum on you along with remembering his dream he had of you made him moan to himself he quickly placed his hands i’ve this mouth scared that you would hear him, digging through his bag to find something to wipe off his cum with. He found the t-shirt that had your mascara on it and decided he would use that, he slowly lifted up the sleeping bag and saw how the his cum was now on your ass cheek. He softly ran the t-shirt down your leg then around to your ass he but his lip trying to not make any noises as he ran the shirt along your ass, he went towards his bag and pulled his pants down below his thighs and trying to get his cum that was on his pants on the t-shirt.

You stirred to his side he stopped his motions and placed the t-shirt over his dick thinking that you were awake but was relieved to know that you were still ‘asleep’ you opened one eye as he turned away staring at how he struggled to grab his cock from it twitching, grabbing the base he moaned slightly pulling the shirt he was wearing in between his teeth to silence his moans. Grabbing the tip of his cock he ran the shirt along his slit wiping off all the pre cum that was leaking from his tip, getting the sudden urge of confidence you decided to say something. “Won?” You couldn’t look at his eyes but staring directly down at his boner that was twitching from lack of touch and due to the cold air, his head shot up from looking at his cock in disappointment to looking at you as you looked at his dick.

Seeing you stare at him filled with lust in your eyes made him twitch as he quickly pulled the shirt over his dick making you look at him directly in the eyes, “It’s not- I swear- Y/n-” “Relax Wonnie, I was already awake.” you said sitting up, he tilted his head to the side “Huh?!” “You were moaning rather loudly and when I tried to fall asleep you came on me.” “OH. My. God Y/n i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to i just hand a wet dream about you and couldn’t help myself when you were that close to me, i’m so sorry if anything happened that you were uncomfortable with. I can go sleep in the car-” “Won relax it’s okay.”

His breathing became rapid you started to go near him to calm him down but as you did his cock twitched each step closer you took, “Wha- What are you doing?” I was just going to cuddle with you so maybe we can fall sleep again, “I don’t think that’s a good idea Y/n.” “Why?” He looked at his cock then slowly brought his gaze up to you, “I couldn’t control myself the first time so i definitely can’t the second now that you have seen me like this.” “I can help.” You say energetic, “WHAT?!?” “I’m being serious you said you had a wet dream about me, i can make it come true.” “No Y/n I can’t make you do this.” “But i want to.” he chewed the side of his cheek. “Y/n if you just saying that please just tell me-” You pulled him in by his shirt over to you kissing him on the lips leading you both to a messy make out as you travel down to his collarbone, moving onto his lap straddle him as his cock twitched against your stomach bringing your hand down to his dick and starting to jerk him off. He places his hands on your ass as his head tilts back and moaning from your touch, his eyes were filled with need wanting more, wanting your pussy.

Wanting to shove you down onto the sleeping bag make you beg for his cock then shoving his dick in you then fucking you senseless, but making out with him more he leaned forward slowly as he softly placed you down onto the sleeping bag that you and him had just been in. Fiddling with the bottom of his shirt you tug on it lightly as he sits up and grabs your wrists and slowly trailing them up you knew that he wanted you to take it off, soon after taking off his shirt he grabbed your waistband of your short shorts and tugged them down to your ankles as he then took them off for you.

He was mesmerized staring at you in adoration loving every movement you were doing, he stared at your panties which had a tiny pink bow right in the middle his fingers ran through the loops of the bow as you took your sweatshirt off. “So pretty.” He said playing with the bow and waistband placing his hand inside your panties rubbing your clit as you ran your fingers long his slit, he grabbed his dick and ran it along the outline of your pussy. You both moaned from the sudden stimulation from him dry humping your pussy slowly, you moved your panties to the side taking his dick in your hands and running it along your bare pussy. “Please need to be in you, i’ll be good i swear.” “You have a condom?” he shook his head but rubbed his cock along your pussy lips, “Just the tip then, no more then that.” Instantly spitting on his tip for lube as he started slowly pushing in the head of his cock moaning loud enough you thought the birds in the trees could hear, you placed you hand over his mouth to shush him.

He slowly started to move in and out of your pussy one hand grabbing onto your tit for more support while his other hand was jerking off the base of his cock, “Y/n need more, need to feel more of you please.” “Fine but I do the moving so lay down.” he quickly obeys your order and lays down on the sleeping bag. Cock straight up in the air waiting for you twitching due to the anticipation getting up you crawled over to him and got on top of him straddling his lap your pussy just inches away from his dick, grabbing his base he moaned from your hand on him while you aligned him up to your entrance. You kissed him just hovering above him, he wrapped his arms around you bear hugging you as he pushed his cock up into you bottoming you out making you moan from the sudden feeling of him filling you up. Whines fell from his mouth talking about how good you feel, how so hard he is for you, can stay in you forever, never wants to leave this position and how he wants to feel you cum around his cock. “Please Y/n need to feel you cum around me, it’s all i’ve ever wanted, need you so bad it hurts please can i move?” Nodding your head he thrusts into you two times slow and taking his time but on his third thrust he pushed so hard up into you while his hips kept fucking up into you fast, during one of his rapid movements his cock fell out of you leaving a whine from his lips.

“Your so perfect, I’ve always wanted to bend you over those desks and fuck the attitude out of you.” He huffed and kissed your ear keeping his heavy breathing right by your ears, he moaned in your ear shocking you but it was because of how you were clenching on him cause of his moaning louder and squeeze you harder his cock started twitching in you, you started to rub your clit as you would clench on him more. He loved the sensation of your pussy squeezing around him, you stared to sit up he let go of you and placed his hands in your waist you brought your fingers up to his nipples as he stopped his movements to roll his head back as his body rolled back to his dick making his movements continue even header this time. “Y/nn- I gott- I gotta cum-” “Then cum.” “Where do you want it?” You started to think about his question thinking about where it would be the easiest place to clean the mess up after. “Y/n I n-need an answer- now!”

His hands went below you to be ready to pull out and cum where you tell him to, “Just cum in me.” “I’m not playing Y/n tell me now.” “In me.” you slammed down on his hips, “I’m not gonna c-cum until you tell me somewhere else, please Y-Y/n need to so bad. If you w-want it in you can w-we please-e talk about this first.” getting off of him you brought your head down around his dick as he took both sides of your head and thrusted up into your mouth not caring how you gagged below him. After he finished cumming you looked up at him as his cum was dripping down your chin, picking it up with your finger and putting it back in your mouth then swallowing all of it. “Thank you so much, I mean it Y/n.” “You weren’t that bad.” he looked down disappointed, “Hey i’m just kidding I loved it you did so good.” you tackled him with a hug laying on him. “I was a virgin by the way.” he said looking down at you, putting your hands on top of one another placing your elbows on either side of his body you responded saying, “I know, usually if a guy isn’t really a virgin they just cum in her no questions asked and it was your wet dream whining that gave it away for me, but it was so cute.” you smiled big from ear to ear. “Did i do good?” “You did great, we should do it again some time!”

He pulled his arms around you turning to his still holding onto you as you cuddled into his chest right before falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. “Goodnight Y/n.” He kissed your forehead before falling asleep holding you.

[strawberrystepmom]

cw children, cw families. gojo and f!reader were idiots in love and they are now married and have a baby. my effortlessly good painter gojo hc won out over being normal in my brain today so yeah. reader is referred to as mom/mama/mother and princess, satoru makes a joke about readers breasts. wc 1.1k

Your morning has started far quieter than they usually do.

The day is overcast, no sunshine through your floor to ceiling bedroom windows, but you don’t mind. It feels good to embrace the cloudy days that have come with the changing of seasons, no harsh light to shock you awake. That job will be for your identical menaces in the coming months, the gummy smile of your morning person nine month old and her unabashedly obsessed father Satoru always eager to be your twin alarm clocks with their giggling and playful babbling at each other.

There’s nothing they love more than giving you the gift of four identical blue eyes blinking at you while you come to your senses every morning. You can almost admit aloud that you’ve become a morning person since becoming a parent, the delightful giggles of your daughter giving you the motivation to conquer anything and everything you can.

For today though, you wake gently, softly rolling from your side to flat on your back but something feels off. There are no hushed giggles, no silly songs being recited with children’s show host precision.

Your bed is empty and quiet and you feel…sad. Perhaps in the past you would’ve found this to be a luxury - no freakishly long limbs of your husband starfished across the bed to keep you pinned to it, no baby to tug at the earrings you forgot to take out last night, but instead it just feels like a less welcome start to the day.

Lingering in bed doesn’t feel good so you roll again, dropping your legs over the edge and sliding your feet into your waiting slippers. Scuffing across the floor, you yawn and stop in your tracks hearing voices from inside Satoru’s closet.

Well, a voice and some baby giggles, anyway.

“Can you say mama?”

Leaning against the door frame of the walk in, you stifle a laugh listening to your husband babble at his little girl who babbles back excitedly. Peeking around the corner, you see him standing in front of the portrait of you that he painted on your 24th birthday, little babe held to his chest and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“That’s her, that’s right. Your perfect mom.”

He sighs and your heart squeezes watching the two of them sway side to side, your baby who is growing into an independent toddler every day reaching out as if she recognizes your face. You’re sure she does, actually; the painting is an impeccable likeness and it still frustrates you 6 years later that he managed to become so good at a craft you’ve spent your life working on in less than a month.

Someday you’ll tell her the entire story, your version of it anyway. For now you’re content to let her father tell his side considering it was one of the most grand and romantic gestures he had performed at the time in an effort to show you how serious he was about your relationship.

“Listen, little girl,” he starts, unknowing that he has captured both of your attention. “I know I’m going to have to tell you this again eventually but do not ever bring a man or woman or anyone else into this house that loves you less than I love your mother.”

She coos at the sound of his voice and he chuckles down at her, kissing the downy white hair atop her head.

“I mean it. If they won’t stay up for four nights straight to get a start on painting your nose from memory, leave ‘em behind.”

With this, you giggle and the attention of both of your menaces is captured. Your daughter squeals from over Satoru’s shoulder, holding one little hand out and making a grabbing motion and he copies her excited babbling with his own.

“My little tricksters snuck out of bed this morning!”

Grinning, you cradle your little girl against your chest and kiss her temple, inhaling the clean smell of her shampoo and skin. She’s been bathed and everything.

“You’re the best.”

You feel the need to remind Satoru at this moment and he grins, bending to give you a good morning kiss.

“Duh.”

Giggling, you let your wiggly daughter settle herself and the three of you stand in front of the painting. You recognize the younger woman permanently captured in it, the soft lovesick look in her eyes, and it amuses you to know he took extra time to capture you exactly like that. Hopelessly in love.

He could capture you using the same medium and you’d look identical to how you did back then - utterly stricken.

“Did you really stay up practicing for four nights?”

“Princess, I stayed up practicing for four weeks.”

You snort, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.

“There’s no need to embellish now, you’ve already won me over.”

He shrugs, pulling the two of you close to his chest. He leans over his little family, cheek resting against the top of your head.

“But what if I never want to stop winning you?”

You reach up and brush his hair off of his forehead affectionately. Every touch you give him is full of love and every glance carries tenderness.

There will come a time when your daughter will be old enough to gawk at the love the two of you have for one another. Maybe she’ll stick her tongue out and roll her eyes just as you remember her father doing more than once or perhaps she’ll simply smile and hide her face in the collar of her shirt, dreaming of a love like what’s in front of her someday.

“I mean, I could paint you again. You are coming up on the big three oh and I have to say that a few things have grown since back then if you know what I mean.”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and drops his voice suggestively low. You flick him on the forehead and laugh about it, your daughter joining in on your giggles as a nine month old is apt to do.

The thing you hope she’ll understand the most is that sometimes love isn’t just big paintings and grand gestures and sweet looks. It’s being grounded enough to give each other a hard time when things are good and a good time when things are hard.

You are fortunate enough to have the best of everything with her father.

“Let’s go make breakfast, Monet.”

You turn on your heel and your husband follows closely behind, small steps to match your own. He looks over his shoulder one final time to look at the painting of you on his closet wall and he smiles, soft and warm.

“Whatever you say, my muse.”

[reverie-starlight]

{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

[abbyshands]

GOOD LUCK, BABE!

⋆𐙚₊˚ content warning: angst, internalized homophobia, reader’s in denial, breakup, arguing, implied religious trauma, sexual references -> ⋆𐙚₊˚ word count: 1k

⋆𐙚₊˚ summary: You didn’t mean to fall in love with Abby Anderson. And too afraid to be, too scared to come face to face with your lesbianism, you push her away for good.

⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ LYN SPEAKS: obviously, this is based on good luck, babe! by chappell roan. just a little drabble, but it’s actually a little intense sooo um. fair warning :3

⋆𐙚₊˚ READ THIS FIRST -> LINKS FOR PALESTINE -> DAILY CLICK -> MASTERLIST

Two girls, in love. One girl, acceptance. One girl, denial.

Abby Anderson knew what she wanted. You knew what you didn’t.

Falling for a woman was scary. Every part of it made you want to crawl out of your skin. And you had had this argument with Abby, over and over and over again. But today, today, would be the last time.

You didn’t look at anybody the way you looked at Abby. At first, you dismissed the butterflies wreaking havoc in your abdomen as meaningless the first time you met her. Harmless, even. You were just nervous to meet somebody new. That’s all it was.

Then you began to miss her when she wasn’t around. You began to dream of her. Think of her when she wasn't in your presence. Think about hugging her, kissing her.

Sex.

It made you feel inhuman. What was wrong with you? This wasn’t God’s way. This wasn’t society’s. As per the norm, you would fall for a man, marry him, bear his children, and grow old with him. That’s how it should be.

And you were scared to break away from that.

But the first time Abby kissed you, you forgot it all. God, society. You just wanted her. Irrevocably, so badly, it consumed you.

Kisses turned to dates. Dates turned to late nights, late nights of talking. Talking turned to sex. Add it all and you had—

Love, no, no, no this wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. What would your friends think? What would your family?

You couldn’t fall in love with Abby. You refused.

“Well, I can’t do this anymore!” you were screaming for what was perhaps the third time in only the last few weeks, maybe even less. The same argument, over and over and over again. “I don’t want to be a- A freak!”

Abby was tired. So fucking tired of it. Sick of hearing the same old song on repeat, on a never ending loop. Abby loved you, she fucking loved you. And she was tired of watching the woman she loved fall to pieces because she was in denial.

Because she was afraid.

How many times would you do this dance? How many times would you deny your innermost desires?

How much longer would you pretend you weren’t a lesbian?

“Why do you do this?” she asked you. “You can’t keep denying it, babe. You know you like girls. You have for a long time. Why are you so scared?” Abby said, crossing her arms over her chest. Internalized homophobia was a soldier, a guard, blocking your way to happiness. Abby had learned that the hard way. And she couldn’t bear to watch it kill you the way it nearly did her.

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest to mirror her, looking away. You ignore her ask, too preoccupied with the feelings swirling around your chest to give her an actual answer. “I don’t like girls. I don’t like you. I can’t.”

“And don’t call me that.”

Abby just huffed, audibly sighing, trying her best to keep her own feelings in check. It wasn’t working very well. “Why? Seriously. Give me one good reason as to why you can’t love me. I want to hear it.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Because you’re a woman, and I’m a woman. It’s as simple as that. It isn’t right,” you say. But it doesn’t even sound like you believe your own words. So you go on. And what you say is downright poisonous.

“It isn’t normal. I’m not in love. I’m broken.”

Abby’s face falls as she takes a step closer to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. Did you really think so lowly? She wondered who had hurt you like this, who had put this wretched idea in your head that loving who you wanted to love was abnormal. A woman loving a woman wasn’t repulsive. How could she make you see that?

“Listen to me,” she said firmly. “You are not broken. There is nothing wrong with two women being in love. Do you hear me? Nothing, I promise you that. You’re just scared. I was too. Scared of what people might say, what they might think of you. But it’s not wrong. It’s not unnatural. And battling your feelings like this is only going to drive you crazy.”

Her words cut deep, you can’t even deny it. Tears rise to your eyes, and a memory prances to the front of your brain. The first time Abby kissed you. How it seemed to have healed you in a matter of seconds. How at peace, how at home, you were. And for a second, just for a second, you consider pulling her in for a kiss, to savor the taste of her lips like that again.

But you don’t. You stand your ground. Because loving a woman wasn’t in the cards for you.

It couldn’t be.

“No, you’re crazy. I can’t love you. I told you that,” you say, pushing Abby away from you, a hard shove to the chest. To the heart.

“Now leave.”

Abby’s eyes widen, and tears rise to her own eyes. God, she just wanted you to love her the way she loved you. Freely, shamelessly. But she knew that it wasn’t that easy when internalized homophobia was so deeply rooted, so, so deeply.

Fine. She would leave, go, just like you wanted. Fine. But if she had to go, Abby wanted to make sure knew. Knew what was in the cards for you. What your future would look like. Who you would be, all because you were afraid.

“Ten years,” she says, and you look at her in confusion before she goes on. “In ten years, you’ll have a husband. You’ll think marrying him will fix you. That it’ll bury the fact that you’re a lesbian. You'll try to love him. You’ll gaslight your way into marriage. But your love for him will be forced. Kissing won’t feel good. Sex will make you nauseous.”

She’s face to face with you now.

“And one day, when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, all those years later, you’ll finally figure it out. All you are is his wife. And you’ll cry, you’ll cry so hard, your head in your hands. And then, you’ll remember me. And when you call me again? It could be five years. Two. A decade. Your whole life. I’ll recognize you. And I’ll say the four words you deserve to hear.”

A beat.

“I told you so.”

Your eyes are wide, and your jaw would be on the floor if you could move it.

You’re angry. Abby knows you are. And she’s okay with it.

Because she knows she’s right.

“Get out.”

Abby pulled back, for the last time. She walked from you to the door, prying it open and leaving it ajar, not walking out just yet. She turned back to you, giving you one last glance, the last time she would lay eyes on you for a long, long time.

And utters three words that will be engraved into your brain for even longer.

“Good luck, babe!”

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x reader. blitzø is still feeling like shit after what happened at ozzie's, and moxxie isn't helping any. you step in on his behalf, much to your boss' surprise. fluff and angst. adult language (duh), references to sex. 1.3k

(first time writing blitzø/helluva boss, so please, all feedback will be appreciated).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You jump in your seat at Luna’s desk as the office door slams open, cursing under your breath as the movement caused you to spill coffee on the wood in front of you. The hellhound usually rolled into work whenever Blitzø did, and you often covered the phones until the two of them showed up. Still, after a few vague text messages from her this morning, you weren’t sure they were ever going to make it in.

So, you’re surprised to see Blitzø slouching into the office relatively early, Luna at his heel with her nose in her phone. The imp has dark sunglasses firmly in place on his face and a deep scowl marring his features. Between that and the extra-large coffee cup clutched in his hand, you decide against your usual morning greeting.

Moxxie, on the other hand, apparently has less reservations about kicking that particular hornet’s nest. “Good morning, sir. I need to talk to you about last night.”

“What?”

“As you may recall, I told you that our reservation last night was just for Millie and I, and—”

Blitzø’s scowl deepens. “Shut the fuck up, Mox.”

And with that, your boss stomps across the office and slams his own door behind him without so much as acknowledging the rest of you.

After a pregnant moment of silence, you vacate Loona’s seat and turn to the imps. “Okay, what the fuck did I miss last night?”

Millie frowns, her hand squeezing Moxxie’s shoulder. “Kind of… a lot.”

***

You raise a brow as the imp couple finally finish relaying everything you had missed at Ozzie’s the night before. Casting a glance towards Blitzø’s still firmly closed door, you nod slowly as you absorb the story. You take a sip of your now lukewarm coffee as Moxxie officially finishes his rant.

“So…” you say slowly, taking a seat on the sofa. “Did you thank him?”

“Did we what?”

“Thank him.” you repeat, holding up a hand when Moxxie opens his mouth to object. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s messed up that he was there, but to hear you tell it, you didn’t even know he was there until he stood up for you. In front of Verosika Mayday and that Fizzarolli guy. Two people he clearly has issues with.”

Millie casts her husband a guilty look, Moxxie still staring at you with one finger raised and his mouth hanging open with a forgotten argument.

“She’s got a point,” Loona interjects dryly without looking up from her phone.

“So…” you continue with a sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “He put his dignity on the line in front of you guys and Stolas and every other chuckle-fuck in that place, and guys are mad at him?”

“We told him—”

“I know what you told him. But you know what he’s like.” you interrupt, waving a hand at Moxxie. “And I’m sorry, but you’re the asshole who decided to sing a love song in the middle of the King of Lust’s own club. As romantic as that is, Mox, it was really dumb. Like, trying to get Mammon to participate in a charity drive dumb.”

Millie pouts thoughtfully, folding her arms across her chest. “I guess we didn’t think of it like that.”

“I’m just sayin’…” you shrug a shoulder, finishing off the last of your coffee. “You should take it easy on Blitzø, is all. He… means well.”

***

Living in hell isn’t exactly a picnic, but waking up that night to a violent thumping on the front door is still, thankfully, rare. Groaning in annoyance as you’re dragged unwillingly from the comfort of your mattress, you roll over to grope blindly for the baseball bat you keep under the bed. The pounding continues as you clamber out of bed and make your way blearily to the door on the other side of your studio apartment.

“Alright, asshole, I’m coming. For fuck’s—” you break off as you unlock the door and jerk it open. “Blitzø?! What in the ever-loving fuck are you—”

“The fuck did you do it for?”

Your frown deepens, confused and still half asleep. Still, you set the bat down and step aside to wave him into the apartment before the neighbors get involved. You flinch as he slams the door behind him. “Do what?”

“Don’t give me that shit!” he spits back at you, swaying slightly where he stands. Great, you have a drunk, angry Blitzø on your hands. “Tell me why!”

“Dude, it’s currently…” you sigh irritably, casting a glance towards the clock glowing on your stove. “…almost four in the morning. If you want me to understand what the fuck you’re talking about, you’re gonna have to be specific.”

He clenches his teeth together, his fists balled tightly. He grinds out the words, like it physically pains him to say anything at all. “That shit you said to Mox about me.”

“Oh.”

“The fuck d’you mean, ‘oh’?”

You rub the sleep out of your eye with the heel of your hand. Instead of answering, you turn and make your way back to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How’d you get here?”

“I— what?”

“Did Loona drop you off?”

Blitzø rolls his eyes, beyond irritated by the change of subject. “Christ on a stick, why does it matter? I fuckin’ drove myself, okay?”

“It matters because you are so not driving yourself home tonight.” you exhale, swinging your legs up onto the bed and pulling the covers up over your lap. “So, you comin’ to bed, or what?”

Blitzø jabs a finger at you belligerently. “You think you can just distract me by lettin’ me nail your sweet bitch-ass, is—”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Blitzø,” you shake your head, exasperated. “I said that shit because it’s true. You put your ass on the line to defend your friends in front of people from your past and Stolas! You did a nice thing because you’re a nice guy and I think you deserve credit for it! It’s not that deep!”

He stops as though you’d knocked the wind out of him, the anger smoothed from his features. Instead, he just looks… surprised. “…You think I’m nice?”

You sigh, patting the mattress beside you. “Just… let’s just sleep, alright? We’ll talk when you’re sober.”

He eyes you almost suspiciously for a long moment, fists still curled by his sides. You roll your eyes, making a show of laying back and making yourself comfortable. He groans dramatically, tossing his head back in an exaggerated eye roll before stomping over to join you. You close your eyes as he sheds his jacket and kicks off his boots, grumbling all the while. Still, you feel his bravado fail him as he reaches the bed, and he hesitates there at the edge of it until you lift the edge of the blankets for him.

Blitzø clambers up onto the mattress beside you, letting you fold the covers back over him. He shuffles closer to you awkwardly, and you feel his hand brush against your arm for a second before he pulls it away again. Reaching out, you catch it with yours, interlacing your fingers with his. You feel him stiffen for a moment before he squeezes it back.

“Can’t believe I finally got your hot little ass into bed and all we’re doin’ is holdin’ hands,” he mutters. He doesn’t, for once, actually sound like he’s complaining. “This is some M&M level bullshit.”

You hum in amusement, and even with your eyes closed, you can feel his face only inches from yours. “Trust me, Blitzø, when I do fuck your brains out, you’re gonna want to be sober enough to remember it in the morning.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then…

“When you WHAT?!”

[hxney-lemcn]

Crushcrushcrush — Ranpo Edogawa x gn! reader

summery: a simple deal turns into more as reader and Ranpo become closer.

tw: idk if it should be counted as objectification but Ranpo refers to reader as a treat (this is all sfw)

a/n: idk how I feel about this, what do y'all think? (title is a song)

wc: 1.6k

Master List

“I have an offer,” You stated, dragging a lone chair to sit across from Ranpo’s desk. A bored look painted the young detective's face, mindlessly rolling a lollipop over his tongue. Although he didn’t move, his eyes watched you with slight interest. 

Recently Ranpo seemed less and less inclined to do his work. It shouldn’t bother you, he wasn’t your responsibility…well at least when it came to his paperwork. Yet a nagging feeling tugged at you as his pile of work grew, less and less cases likely to be solved. The closure for someone’s loved ones or the safety of others relied on the whims of a childish detective. It didn’t feel right. So, when you were overthinking this problem only you seemed to have for the past week, you believed  you came up with a bulletproof plan.

“I’m listening,” Ranpo hummed.

Running over exactly what you wanted to say, you brought up a deal he couldn’t pass, “If you solve 10 cases every work week then I’ll treat you to whatever you want as long as it’s ¥4,500 or under. I’ll keep track of your monthly average, and if you exceed 40 cases solved in a month I’ll treat you to something worth ¥10,000. What do you say?”

There was a pause as Ranpo considered the pros and cons of this deal, and skeptically he asked “What do you get out of this?”

You hadn’t considered him to ask that. Either he would have agreed or disagreed, not dive into your intentions. Ironically, you felt that your reasoning was somewhat childish, so you hesitated before coming clean, “I just want to help people.”

Ranpo blinked before a smile spread across his face, “Okay! Nothing the world's greatest detective can’t handle.” He leaned back in his chair, arms resting behind his head.

“Oh!” You blinked, surprised he had actually agreed. “Cool, great. We’ll start next month so it’s easier for me to keep track.”

What became a simple agreement between co-workers shifted into a friendship. At first you thought you’d just give him the cash at the end of the week to spend on whatever his heart wanted…yeah you hadn’t thought that part through. When you tried to give Ranpo the cash at the end of the first week, he whined, complaining about how he needed someone to guide him to his favorite candy store. So not only were you giving him an allowance, but you had also become his go to guide. At first you were a bit annoyed, yes you had no grudges against the black haired detective, but all you wanted to do on a Friday evening was to rest in bed. 

Although it was an annoyance at first, your time together had grown on you. You got to know Ranpo better, and although he was very childish, arrogant, selfish…you get the point, he was also quite entertaining. You two worked together, but you hadn’t really interacted with him except for the meetings or greeting as you’d pass by. You felt yourself glued when Ranpo would tell you of his past cases, hands moving around while still holding his spoon with melting ice cream dripping onto the table. 

It didn’t take long for feelings to start forming. This agreement had gone on for 3 months at this point and you found yourself excited for the weekly outing you two shared. His childishness that had endeared you before was your downfall. Ever since you got to know each other better, Ranpo had begun pestering you more. Whether it be poking you for more snacks, or requesting you to join him during his cases, he never failed to gain your attention in one way or another. Which gained the attention of your fellow co-workers.

Dazai drawled your name, moving his chair to join you at your desk. You barely gave the bandaged detective a glance, continuing the report you needed to finish about you and Ranpo’s last case. Dazai disregarded your disinterest and continued, “Why haven’t you offered me a reward for getting work done?” A pout rested on his lips as he stared at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You quickly shut him down, “You wouldn’t do the work.”

He found a way to make himself look even more pathetic as he whined, “You’re so mean! Ranpo gets to hang out with such an attractive person while the rest of us are just chopped liver.”

You stared at him blankly, unsure what his motivations could possibly be, “You just want free food.”

Dazai leaned back in his chair, hand resting over his chest in a dramatic gesture, “You wound me! Is it really such a shock that I may want to spend time with you, Belladonna?”

You squinted at him, very aware that he only used that pet name when he was trying to woo someone, or in this case to bring your defenses down. And even though you knew he was up to something, you felt yourself give in. It’s been a long week and useless bickering wasn’t going to finish your report. 

“Do you want to join us or something?” You asked exasperatedly. 

“You’re inviting little old me?” Dazai asked with a dramatic gasp, a smile replacing his previous pout. “Oh I don’t know…”

“You’d have to ask Ranpo,” You grumbled, turning back to the half finished report. “And you have to pay for yourself.”

Little did you know, Ranpo was watching your entire interaction, a frown painting his features. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of Dazai encroaching on your shared activity didn’t settle well. He was a selfish man, and you had become a treat all on your own. He wanted your attention on him, and although he knows it’s impossible for you to focus on him at all times, it didn’t stop him from wanting it. The thought was foreign to him, as he only really cared about the President’s praise or Yosano’s opinions, but you had managed to wiggle your way into his life and now he also cared about having your attention, praise, and opinions. 

When you had brought up Ranpo, Dazai looked over to said man, a pleased grin on the brown haired detective's lips. Ranpo’s frown grew, unsure why Dazai seemed so pleased. No way was he letting the lesser detective spoil his treats. 

“Oh Ranpo~” Dazai sang, only to be cut off.

“No.”

The sternness in Ranpo’s reply stunned you into tuning back into the situation. You watched in slight shock as Ranpo glared over at Dazai.

“You’re both so mean,” Dazai whined, but finally dropped the subject, sending you a smirk before returning to his desk. 

You glanced at Ranpo once more, only for him to have returned to his normal self, opening a bag of chips as if nothing unusual just happened. That was only the start to his unusual behavior towards you. You knew your doting on him would clue him in on your feelings, but you hadn’t expected him to reciprocate. Yes your agreement had started because you wanted to help people, but it had turned indulgent as you enjoyed your time with the detective. What you hadn’t expected was for it to become indulgent for him as well. 

The next sign was how the seemingly touch adverse man had turned into the clingiest motherfucker you had ever met. You didn’t mind until it started to intrude on your work. It started with small things, holding your hand as you walked the streets together, resting his head on your shoulder while you sat on the bus. Small things you could easily mistake as friendly (which you had), but the gestures started to blur some lines. Hugs that lasted longer than you could brush off, getting piggy back rides from you (if/when possible), cuddling with you on the break room couch when you both had a break. Dazai had found it his new goal in life to tease you as much as possible (it seemed that Yosano had taken up the same practice with Ranpo). Finally you both had breached gestures that clearly couldn’t be waved off as friendly. Ranpo had decided that the best seat in the office was your lap (you couldn’t suppress the embarrassment you felt as everyone in the office stared at you both), or how he’d insist you sleep over (you basically live in his dorm at this point).

The biggest sign of how Ranpo felt about you was when he offered you your favorite snack. Not only was it a snack, something he guards with his life, but it was your favorite, something he deemed worthy enough to know. Such a small gesture managed to warm your heart. There was only one problem…neither of you seemed to be able to open up about your feelings for the other. Your agreement had fizzled, as Ranpo settled for receiving your praises in exchange for his work, but you still would buy him an ice cream or some candy as a reward. 

The lines of your relationship continued to blur more and more. It wasn’t until finally Ranpo had introduced you as his partner, and no, not as a work partner. At first you became flustered, a label finally falling onto your relationship, and soon Ranpo had followed as he realized what he let slip. He thought of you both as together, and a wide grin adorned your face. Hoping to get through to him that it was okay as you wanted the same, you had pressed a kiss to his cheek…which only seemed to worsen his flustered state. 

At the end of the day…none of your co-workers were shocked. In fact, when Ranpo had declared your status to the office (much to your dismay), Dazai just had to quip, “Wait, you weren’t before?”

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder. 

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

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[hoeforalbedo]

Dolly (Finale)

Demon Alastor x Demon Housewife!Reader

Tw: Alcohol, Club, reader referred to woman, murder, rushed work.

Note: It’s kinda rushed. I tried. I was watching a school play and it was Chicago so I thought why not start it off at the club. I was also going to write a smut but it wouldn’t save so I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. Last part was literally taken from Hannibal 😭😭

———————————————————————

Loud sounds of the trumpet ring throughout the club. It’s not the modernized type of clubs. No, flappers gather around dancing to the music with others at the dance floor. It’s almost as if everyone gathered together to learn the choreography as they all seem to dance in unison.

“Whiskey?” A small lady asks, holding a glass cup.

“I’m good Mimzy,” You smile. You lean back on your chair.

After years of loneliness, you’ve finally come to the end of your days. It was no natural death. Even in old age you found yourself feeding off the high you felt from murder. It was the only thing keeping you sane, ironically.

One moment were falling back onto the ground, the second you were greeted by the gold pearly gates. “Welcome to Heaven. Name please?”

“Hi, I am Y/N L/N, I believe I would not be on that list,” You smiled.

“Is that so? Surely I fine mannered lady like you should be on the list.” The angel hummed and looked at his list. “How odd, your name isn’t here.”

“I hope not, it isn’t. I’m very aware that murder is a huge sin,” You chuckled.

“Oh. . . Well then-“ You found yourself falling once more.

“My dear wife can’t handle her liquor well,” The static voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Oh Alastor, you know I’m not one for alcohol,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll take that, Mimzy.”

“Oh you two are truly a match made in hell,” The short flapper laughs.

“Hell?” You smirk, looking at Alastor.

“Truly.” Your husband answers, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh I’ll leave you demon couple to be. I don’t plan to be a third wheel. Ta ta~!” The flapper waves, getting lost in the crowd.

“I believe we have time,” You look at him mischievously.

“I believe we do!” Alastor looks at a certain direction of the club, eyes landing at a man sniffing some substance. “I wouldn’t want to waste the night, especially since my wife dressed all pretty for me. Care for a dance?”

You jump up from your chair. “Why I thought you’d never ask!” You smile as Hit the Road Jack through the speakers. The song is very much after Alastor’s time however he found that he enjoys his music.

The two of you get to the dance floor. He places his hand at the small of your back and swing in sync with the music. He takes the lead, spinning and twirling you around.

“How I missed this!” You scream over the music.

“I’ve forgotten how amazing you are,” Alastor compliments, hooking your leg around his waist.

“Dancing was one of the many things I’ve missed.”

Alastor slowly dips you low to the ground before pulling you back up. “The day I took you dancing, I knew I was in love.” No, actually his mom suggested he take you dancing although he was taken off guard when you managed to keep up with him.

The demon lets go of your hands, letting you shimmy around him to allow you to have a clear view of what’s going around the club. He then takes your hand, pulling you back in and guiding you to twist your hips while kicking your feet.

It’s amazing how in synch you two are with how fast the song is. At the same time, the both of you are keeping a lookout for the man that you both could not bother to know the name of.

“Alastor,” You suddenly say darkly, looking over his shoulders.

“Allow me.” He managed to maneuver you both in the dancing crowd, spinning and twirling along with them.

“How dramatic you are. We could have walked!” You chuckle.

“Well you know me, I am one for theatrics. I trust you can handle the rest?”

“Of course dear!” You smile. He twirls you one last time and you spin much farther than you should, causing you to bump into a man who ends up spilling his drink on him.

“Shit you woman this is expensive!” The man yells.

“Oh I apologize! How clumsy of me,” You apologize profusely, taking your handkerchief out and trying to dry the liquid. Your doe eyes look at him innocently, looking full of regret.

“Well I’m sure I can forgive you, if you give me your. . .” He scans your body, taking in the black dress that is modest yet perfectly hugs your curves. Your cleavage peeks out just enough to leave the rest for the imagination. “Yeah, how about you offer me your body for the night.”

You look at him with innocent confusion. “I’m afraid I can’t do much for a night. A laborious task of cleaning the stain of your suit would take me a couple hours at best!” You play coyly although you know he intends to sleep with you.

“I- you know what, how about you come with me. I’ll show you a good time,” He smirks.

“Oh that’s just the experience I’m looking for!”

“Perfect.” The man leads you out to the back of the club. Your back is leaned up against the brick walls as the man gets very close to you.

“I’m not sure how this is more fun compared to dancing.”

“How did an innocent thing like you get into hell?” The man chuckles, taking your wrists and pinning it over your head.

“I lied just a little bit,” You answered.

“How naughty,” He hums, about to burry his face into your neck until he was simultaneously pulled back by shadow tendrils.

“I’m sorry for my vagueness. I lied about murdering someone,” You smile then walk to Alastor’s side.

“Who the fuck ar- Fuck,” the man’s eyes widen realizing that the one holding him captive is none other than the radio demon he had messed with a couple days prior and that you are associated with him.

“Am quite aware that I allowed for this to happen, but I still hate the fact that someone touched what’s mine,” The radio demon says menacingly, the filter in his voice going in and out.

“Alastor, sweetheart, how about we save this for the broadcast,” You mutter to him, putting your hand on his chest. “It was the plan after all, right?”

“Why you’re right, my dear. Well then!” He wraps an arm around you and teleports the three of you to his radio station.

“Oh fucking hell. Come on man! I don’t even know who this bitch is! Spare me!” The guy begs.

Alastor’s head spin towards the man while the rest of his body remains still. “This bitch is my wife and I will not tolerate your demeaning words. However!”

The man sighs in relief. “I do not fight my wife’s battles so my dear, do as you please.”

“Gladly. I was thinking meatloaf for tonight,” You smile as you glide towards your poor victim with a butchers knife.

“Good afternoon to my fellow sinners of hell! It is I, Alastor, accompanied with my lovely wife for the first time.”

“Hello!” You say cheerfully as you chopped the man’s fingers, a scream filling the studio.

“Today there will be music, dancing,” His filter disappears, “screaming,” his voice goes back to the usual, “and all that jazz so sit back, relax, and enjoy.” Another scream resonates through the air as Alastor plays some peaceful music. He then turns to you who has been chopping off the man’s external parts. “I hope you’ve left some for me, ma chere. I’m still rather irked from earlier.”

“Oh he’s still very much alive, see!” You say, pulling the man’s cheek to force a smile on his face.

“Lovely. I hope you don’t mind a bit more blood, my dear.”

You chuckle, “Oh I’m by far very used to it.”

He kisses your forehead, “What a doll you are, me cherie.”

“Only for you.”

“Just fucking kill me already!” The man begs.

“Gladly,” Alastor says, voice deep without any filter.

———————————————————————

“Smells delicious dear,” Alastor kisses your head.

“Of course! We made it together. Is Charlie and her father almost here?” You ask as you place the last dish down on the table.

“I believe-“ A knock is heard. “They are here now.”

“Let’s hurry and greet them!” You say excitedly, taking your apron off and putting it away.

The two of you open the door with bright smiles.

“Hello you two!” You greet, hugging the both of them.

“Well hello,” Alastor says, less enthusiastically as he glares at Lucifer.

“Well if looks could kill,” Lucifer begins only to be interrupted by his daughter.

“Well I’m glad that we were invited to your home, although of course we always have space at the hotel, and I feel so bad for coming empty handed,” Charlie speaks almost as if she’s being chased by something by how fast she speaks.

“That’s absolutely fine. My wife really only ever eats the food she or I prepare,” Alastor says. “Shall we?”

The father and daughter find themselves walking past the living room where deer heads are posted above the fireplace. Once they get to the dining room, the vibe is much more homey.

“You can tell who decorated what in the house,” Lucifer snickers.

“Wow! These all look delicious!” Charlie’s eyes sparkle at the food.

“Please have a seat!” You say.

All of you begin eating, making small talk. “This tastes good. What kind of meat is this?” Lucifer asks curiously.

“Rabbit,” Alastor answers.

“He should have hopped faster.”

The couple look at each other. You smile, “Yeah, he should have.”

———————————————————————

Tags: @notsentimentalll @mixplara @futureittomainn @karolinda007-blog

[randomshyperson]

Lacy - Werewolf!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Kinktober #07

Summary: This Halloween, Wanda receives a surprise visit from her favorite werewolf. The problem is that it's very difficult to keep a crush hidden during mating season.

Warnings: (+18), mutual pining, semi-public, very vague allusions to omega verse, beefy!reader, power!bottom wanda, a bit rough but they are actually sweet to each other, some praising and dirty talk. | Words: 3.144k

A/N-> First, I know nothing about werewolves. It was never my thing growing up (I’m a witch type of person I suppose) but I know about omegaverse stuff and since it’s wolf-based I tried some references from that lore. Also, I was totally thinking about Wednesday's show (and Wenclair ship tbh) when writing the school but you all be free to image whatever you wish. Also, the name is from Olivia Rodrigo’s song, ‘cause it’s such a friends-to-lovers/mutual pining coded lyrics. Good reading folks! 

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The mating season was always the most tiring part of the year.

Even as a child, her days were marked by hard work and running errands - her mother was always very busy with orders, and somehow, the twins were obliged to finish the tasks in record time, so as not to delay the calendars and keep Natalya busy when her customers needed her.

As the largest and most respected apothecary in the country, Natalya Maximoff was also one of the biggest dealers in magical items - and this also included natural suppressants. Her customers wrote to her from all over the world, many famous packs like the Romanoffs or the Howletts only bought her products, and the witch was always very busy at this time of year.

So when their mother told them that she would leave the Maximoff Magical Articles Boutique in their care for two whole days, while she delivered packages around the world, none of them were surprised, as this had been done dozens of times before.

Wanda's indignation stemmed from the fact that her twin brother, as soon as there were no more magical remnants of the portal his mother had conjured to travel through, put on a jacket and told her he was leaving.

"But you can't leave me alone!" Wanda hurried away from the counter. Pietro chuckled, adjusting his hat on his silver hair. Since he had turned 18 last month, he had grown a good few centimeters, and even with her best serious expression, Wanda, who hadn't grown much since she was 15, no longer succeeded in frightening him. That, and well, like his father, Pietro had a bastard heritage of lycanthropy, and with his new skills, he had also gained extreme confidence.

"What, you gonna tell me you're scared of some little wolves?" He sneered, his fangs protruding from his smile. Wanda huffed angrily, her cheeks slightly red. "Don't be silly, Wanda. You're a witch. Nobody's is crazy enough to mess with you."

He tries to pat her on the shoulder, but Wanda pushes a finger against his chest. "I'm not afraid of any wolves, you selfish idiot! Mom says the store is our responsibility. And you're sneaking off to do who knows what! I don't want to spend all night looking after this place on my own. Apart from the season, it's Halloween, and kids go apeshit and-"

"Jesus, Wanda, I'll make it up to you!" He cuts in, already pulling away and ignoring the other girl's protests. "I've got to go, I'm taking Crystal to the movies, then we'll settle up!

"Pietro!" But the call was ignored and the store door was slammed in her face.

Wanda huffed to herself. She could survive a Halloween night, but her brother would owe her a lot if he didn't want to be snitched on. She returned to the counter, texting him another dozen curses before texting to her mother that everything was under control.

And lucky for her, that's how the evening actually went. 

Most of the few customers who showed up were locals, a few sorcerers in need of ingredients, and even a traveling vampire who needed to replenish some reserves for a long trip. Some children also asked for candy, and tired of getting up so often, Wanda decided to leave the jars outside.

It was almost at the end of her shift, when she was ready to close the shop, that a delicious smell wafted into the room. Wanda, who was distracted by the holiday lessons that the institute where she studied always offered when there were short vacations or not, was snapped out of her concentration by the fascinating smell. She looked up just as a figure stumbled into the store, covered by a school uniform hood.

She didn't need you to remove the cap to recognize you, and yet, when your face became visible, Wanda felt her heart unlearn how to beat properly. 

"Good evening?" You looked between the shelves, approaching the cashier, only to hesitate as soon as you saw Wanda. "Oh, h-hi. Uh, is Madame Maximoff around?"

You looked uneasy, adjusting your hair and fiddling with your fingers. Your flushed face must have been due to the walk from the Institute to the store. 

Wanda shook her head as she replied: "She had some orders to place. How can I help you?"

The color of your face deepened, and you couldn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. "Hmm, I kind of need... suppressants." And it was the turn of Wanda's face to heat up. You continued talking anxiously. "I thought I still had some, but my reservation ran out, and since I'm in the dorm, I wouldn't want to... well, would you have any left? I know it's very short notice but I really need it."

Wanda nodded quickly, equally at a loss for words. You see, if you were any other of her werewolf colleagues, the situation might even be comical. She wasn't like Pietro and didn't make friends very easily, but she shared the same taunting nature. One horny wolf in the store and Wanda would have jokes for the rest of the year. But it was you, her longtime secret crush, emanating a very pleasant scent and in need of something so intimate that Wanda could barely control her own thoughts about what other ways she could help you if there were no other suppressors in the store.

"My mom usually sells everything before the season starts, but I can look in the warehouse to see if we have any leftovers. I'll be right back." She says, smiling softly at your anxious figure.

Wanda has never seen you in heat before; the mating seasons for new wolves begin at the end of puberty, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and the vast majority of her werewolf classmates at the Institute return to their packs at this time of year, already matched with their partners in the traditions of the lycanthrope. Wanda only knows about the rituals from her father's family, because each clan, from the Vampires to the witches, is very private about it all. Witches like her mother, who specialize in all kinds of products, are the exceptions.

Wanda tries the storeroom next to the counter, but after a few boxes, she snorts in frustration. Her mother really did sell everything, and she almost reprimanded you for not planning properly. For older, mismatched wolves, being without suppressors could be really dangerous. For you, a new werewolf, it would only be quite painful. It was easier for her to feel sorry. 

And while she tried the last few shelves at the back of the storeroom, you grew even more restless outside. Wanda had no idea how intoxicating the essence of a witch, especially a witch one cared about, was. If you hadn't been so desperate, you would have given up going into the store as soon as you could smell her from around the corner, but then again, your brain wasn't working very rationally right now.

And there was also a scarf on the counter, Wanda's most characteristic item since she had received it as a gift so many years ago. Many of the times you've noticed her, she's worn the item around her neck and it made sense that her scent was so strong in the room, even though she was upstairs.

Your limbs moved by instinct, you didn't have to think much, just let yourself be guided by the urge to exhale that distinctive smell more deeply. 

Your face was pressed against the scarf when Wanda reappeared, and her confused giggle made you jump away mortified.

"Are you all right there?" She ventured, receiving a very quick and embarrassed nod. Wanda chuckled again in amazement, and without caring much about your current condition, she approached. "I looked upstairs, but my mother sold everything, sorry. There's something else you might like to try, maybe a calming potion so you can sleep while... well, this happens to you."

You quickly agree, still embarrassed at being caught. Wanda doesn't mind, if anything, she always found it very entertaining how different you were from the other werewolves she knew; loud and confident to the point of being idiotic. Pietro was a prime example. And if it wasn't for your distinctive stature, she could easily have assumed from your shy and careful personality that you were just an ordinary human, perhaps a mermaid from the way you seemed to bewitch Wanda's attention all to yourself.

"I'm sorry." You mutter suddenly, while she is searching for a sleeping potion on the shelf under the counter. Wanda turns her face up in confusion, but you're looking away. "From the scarf, I know it's... weird. But my body seems to be acting on its own. Just forget about it when we get back to school, okay? I'll be normal when it's over."

"Don't worry, I don't mind." She assured meekly, before finally finding some bottles that could help you and taking them back to the counter. She bit her lip at the way you were panting, and the way your trembling fingers pulled some notes and coins out of your pocket. "You can take these two vials today, and this one in the morning if you're still..."

"Horny'?" You joke, and take Wanda by surprise, but she manages to return the short laugh. Your hands push out the money and she turns away to pack the vials into a small bag. "So, one now and two tomorrow."

Wanda quickly denies it. "No, darling, two now and one tomorrow. Are you... are you sure you're all right? You're sweating-"

"Just give me a minute." You interrupt her with a gasp, the sudden wave of heat catching you completely off guard. The room starts to spin, and for a whole moment, all you can feel is your own arousal and the way you want to touch the witch in front of you. Your body gives way, and your hands force down on the counter, disastrously strong enough for the wood to crack. Wanda jumps in fright, worried, but you grunt quietly. "Shit, I'm really sorry-"

She hurries around the counter, and her soft hands make you jump away. "Hey, it's okay, I just want to help you stand up."

But you gasp in despair, wrenching your body away from her. "Don't touch me, Wanda, for God's sake." You grunt, and if you hadn't sounded so affected, Wanda would have taken offense. Instead, she stands ready to catch you if you lose your balance again, and that's exactly what happens. This time, your weight falls forward, and Wanda's body serves as a barrage. 

Your wolfish weight is almost too much for her, and it doesn't help that your face is buried against her collarbone, and your arms embrace her clumsily. "Hm, so soft." She hears you sigh, as she struggles to drag you over to the reading area of the store's bookshelves, where there's a sofa to put you on. When you fall into the cushions, you look up with dreamy eyes and an easy smile playing on your lips. Wanda gasps softly from exhaustion. 

"Wait here a moment, okay? You feel like you're burning up with a fever. I'll get you some water." She explains, but it doesn't seem like you're listening very much, disconcerting her with the way you're looking at you so discourteously, your pupils dilating. Wanda adjusts a strand of hair, self-conscious under your gaze. "I'll be right back."

She practically runs out of there, and alone, realizing her own hands are trembling as she remembers the sensation of having your body against hers. She shakes her head to push the thought away, you were clearly in a vulnerable moment right now, and Wanda doesn't think she'll survive the shame of being rejected once the heat wears off.

When Wanda returns with the water, she almost drops the glass on the floor. You haven't moved, but you've changed position, limp against the sofa, evidently rubbing yourself down the item as you whimper. 

"Oh, detka, let me help you." Wanda abandons the glass on a shelf, and rushes to your side, kneeling beside the sofa. You gasp in embarrassment, trying to escape her gaze, but Wanda's hands grab your warm face. "Let's go upstairs. I'll make it better." She whispers the invitation, but the thought alone is enough for you to grunt in affection and pull her face towards you. 

It's a hungry kiss, and the position doesn't help. Wanda has to grab your shoulders to keep from falling to the floor and ends up breaking into a giggle when a moment later it's you who's throwing yourself at her, desperately kissing her as if she's going to disappear. 

The lightness disappears quickly. She feels very hot and bothered, especially when your tongue slips into hers as if you already knew exactly how to kiss her, and your hands touch her entire body with determination. Her plea for you to slow down turns into a moan when your knee pushes between her legs.

It's almost primitive the way you seem willing to have her right there on the floor, angrily trying to pull her clothes off while your moans mingle. Wanda's face burns and she struggles to match the kiss, losing that battle all too easily when your palms begin to stimulate her nipples. 

She can feel the wetness begin to bother her through the fabric of her panties, and perhaps, you can smell it too, because you grow more impatient, and begin to murmur disconnected compliments into her skin, your hands reaching down to unzip her pants. Wanda chokes between moans, practically whimpering when your fingers find her so ready. 

You enter her, all at once, without a second thought. You suck on her tongue as she squeezes your fingerprints and soaks your hand. It's dirty and rough, and Wanda couldn't hold back even if she tried. Yet the store door opens, and she has to bite down hard on your shoulder to muffle her own noises.

Whoever the customer is, asking if there's anyone there or if the store is open, Wanda makes sure they don't see her. Her eyes are scarlet, and it's never been harder to do a concealment spell than it is now, with your fingers thrusting inside her as if the world around you hardly mattered. Finally, the customer leaves and her magic plays its part in locking the door before Wanda digs her nails into your back and comes against your fingers.

It's not enough - Nothing seems to be. You continue your movements inside her until Wanda is spasming again, begging for a pause. Your hungry mouth finds its way into her most intimate place then, just to tear more pleasure out of her. She loses count of how many times she comes, on your fingers and tongue, until the whole store smells of sex.

Fuck, she has to move you before Pietro comes back.

It's only when you let her breathe, retreating like a wounded wolf, that Wanda notices the puddle of moisture on your pants. You came at the mere act of watching and touching her. 

"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" She coos gently, propping herself up on one elbow now that you're lying on your back, one arm over your face. Your clothes are as torn as theirs, but there are many more marks on her body than on yours. 

You sniffle quietly, and Wanda looks at you with concern. "Why didn't you stop me?" you ask upset, and Wanda stares in shock for a moment. Then, swallowing dryly, she works up the courage:

"You didn't want this?"

But your reaction is to laugh incredulously. "Of course, I wanted it, Wanda! But I'm talking about you. Why didn't you stop me? You're a witch, you could have knocked me down, look at you! You're all purple, and I... God, I can't believe I... hurt you." 

She climbs into your lap before you can despair, ignoring your soft protest and grabbing your crying face. "I haven't stopped you because I've wanted you to since we met." She assures you determinedly, caressing your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, you idiot."

Sniffling softly, you raise hopeful eyes. "Really?"

Wanda smiles, her weight against your chest. "Really." She assures you. "And don't worry about the marks, I... like it rough."

You groan in embarrassment, looking away and amusing her. There's a moment's pause, and then finally: "I like you too."

Wanda bites back a smile. "I got that impression, you know? When you were all whiny on me." 

Your laugh is sincere and shy, and Wanda kisses you as your hands grip her thighs. But before she can deepen it the way she'd like, you break again.

"Thanks for helping with the heat... but I'll take you on a date after this. I promise."

She pulls on your bottom lip with a provocative bite. "I'll charge." She assures you in a naughty whisper, and you sigh contentedly as she presses your hips together. Smooth movements, and you're already seeing stars again. 

Your breathing becomes shorter, and Wanda traces her fingers along your jaw, while her other hand moves down. "I bet you're all warm and tight."

You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding in agreement. Wanda kisses you leisurely, also taking time to slide her fingers into your pants and assess the effects of everything so far. She's not surprised by the immense wetness, but the sensation of sinking into you is overwhelming. She can feel ready for another when she starts to stimulate you and watches you squirm beneath her.

"So good... don't stop..." You moan helplessly, and the grip on her thighs is almost strong enough to hurt. Wanda makes a mental note of how to make you lose control of your strength, before curling her fingers inside you and being rewarded with the sweetest sounds in the world. "W-Wanda!"

She decides she likes it very, very much when you whimper her name like that. She continues her motions a few more times until you come hard on her fingers. Wanda thrusts a few times, before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean while you try to catch a breath. 

Your murmurs are labored, and Wanda kisses your cheek a few times. "Come on upstairs, sweet baby, I'll take care of you." She tries to get up, but your hands steady her on your lap.

It's almost ridiculous how easily you lift the two of you, and Wanda has to hold onto your shoulders, chuckling softly at your uncertain stumbles on the way upstairs. 

She'll have time to look after the store when you fall asleep. Right now, she's more focused on kissing you again.

[604to647]

Strawberry Shortcake (part 1 of 2)

4K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: You thought working as a cocktail waitress at a strip club would just be a way to make some easy money - you didn't expect to meet him.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Private room shenanigans, longing, ref to f!masturbation, nicknames as always, reader is a single parent (mentioned briefly in the this part), TF boys make a quick appearance!

A/N: In this part, reader only knows Frankie as "Francisco", but for the purpose of the narrative, I refer to him as Frankie most of the time. This came out of nowhere and I wrote it in one day instead of editing the next chapter of SwY 🫣 procrastination fics are a thing, right? Barely proofread, please excuse all my mistakes!

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 🥰 The moodboard Frankie pic is from Pinterest but after a wee bit of sleuthing, I believe it’s a screen grab from this gifset by @uuuhshiny - please correct me if I’m wrong!! 😊

Swaying seductively to the club’s upbeat remix of an old school RnB song you’ve always loved, you hit each bass beat with a little pop of your hip so that you lightly knock your knees into the widespread thighs of the man whose legs you’re dancing in between.  The combined movement lends a little bounce to your naked tits, and as you raise your arms above your head and continue to move to the music, you have to bite your lower lip to prevent from smiling and chuckling.  Even with your eyes closed, you know the man’s large, calloused hands, ever respectful of the private room’s ‘No Touching’ rule, are spread, straining with superhuman restraint and digging into those same meaty thighs that you keep rubbing against.  You might be doing it on purpose.  Afterall, the rule is that he can’t touch, but you can.

Trailing your fingers down through your hair, then down, down along your face and neck until you reach your chest, your hands grab and grope your breasts the way you know the man before you wishes he could.  Letting yourself pretend that your desperate touches are his, you let out a little whimper that’s meant to try his resolve.  As you bend your knees while rolling your hips, the lascivious show you’re putting on is lowered to his eye level, and you continue to palm your tits, rolling and pinching your nipples between your fingers – pretty peaks hardening as the fan of his heavier than usual breath hits them just right.  You know you’re being terribly teasing and unfair, but here in this dimly lit room, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties, you’ve never felt safer.  Or sexier.  And it’s all because of this man.

Francisco.

Never one to break the private room’s cardinal rule, or even cop a feel while out on the main floor, this man is nothing but respectful.  And that makes you wish even more that he would just break – break all the rules and have his way with you.  Touch you.  Grab you.  Manhandle you to his liking and take you right on the faux velvet couch that lines the wall behind him.  With a low and wide swivel of your hips, you ghost over the growing bulge of his jeans and you hear him groan - a deep guttural sound from the back of his throat, and this time you don’t fight the smile that spreads across your face.

Francisco.

He’s probably been your favourite part of working as a club cocktail waitress these past few months.  You have a job as a research assistant that you love, but earlier this Spring, a small accident in the lab led to a temporary closure that had you looking for short-term work – you needed something where the hiring process wasn’t drawn out and that you could quit when the lab reopened without any negative consequences to your career - the waitress opening at The Midnight Palace had fit the bill.  The money was good and the work wasn’t arduous; it wasn’t as if you were one of the onstage dancers who had to perform some of the most incredible feats of acrobatics you’ve ever seen.  Even the later hours turned out to be a blessing, allowing you to spend your now free days with your son, a welcomed opportunity to fill his carefree summer days with activities and play before he started kindergarten in the Fall.  The girls, dancers and waitresses alike were incredibly friendly and welcoming, many of them single moms themselves.  All in all, you think you might even miss the club when the newly renovated lab reopened.  And still, even with all your unexpected fondness for this job, the thing you unequivocally look forward to most when coming in to work is Francisco Morales.

Every two weeks without fail he came in with a group of army buddies on Friday night.  The first time you encountered them had been your second week at the club, amused at how the other girls had been excited for their arrival; the group was known for being fun loving and rowdy, but never disruptive or disrespectful.  And generous - very generous.  As a waitress, your dress code was lingerie of your choice - not any more or less skimpy than what the dancers wore on stage or when they came to the floor for lap dances, but it could invite the occasional butt slap or waist grab from some of the bolder club patrons.  But never Francisco’s group – you served them drink after drink after drink, and they were only ever sweet and charming, nothing more than a polite touch as thanks, and generous with their words of praise and tips to every one of their servers and dancers.  You come to learn that they usually end their evenings with a round or two in the private rooms, sometimes one-on-one, other times as a group.  On that first night, you served the drinks in a private room that the group commandeered with three gorgeous dancers - all giggling and having the time of their lives.  As you put down their drinks, the dark-haired man that you come to think of as the group’s leader, smiled at you with his piercing hooded eyes and laughing, “Hey hunny, why don’t you stay?  We’ll pay for your time and you can keep Fish company.”  He tilted his head back to indicate to his friend who sat a bit further back from the group in a chair, leaning back comfortably, arms crossed, with no stripper to call his own.

You had smiled politely, not sure of your answer even though Tiffany had nodded encouragingly at you; most patrons didn’t know, but any girl could be invited to a private room – not just the dancers.  It was rare for a waitress to spend time in a private room – while there was no obligation, there was some expectation to strip and most waitresses didn’t; when you took the job, you didn’t have any intention of spending any one-on-one time in the private rooms, despite the rate and the tips being quite good. 

As you approach the odd man out to serve him his drink, he gives you an almost bashful shake of his head, as if to say ‘You don’t have to’ – you’re not sure what it is, maybe it was his almost boyishly shy smile, or the glimpse of those soft brown curls you caught when he lifted his cap to nervously run his hands through his hair, but on a whim, you decide to stay.  Afterall, it’s not as if you were alone – there were six other people in the room with you.

Putting his drink down, you slide into the handsome stranger’s lap, perching your scantily clad bum on his thick thigh, you blink bright-eyed and throw him a cheeky grin, “So… you’re a Fish?”  The wholesome chuckle and crinkle of his captivating eyes that follow your question warm your chest more than they should and that’s how you meet Francisco Morales. 

That first night, Frankie spends the remainder of the time that Santi pays for with you in his lap, arm thrown around his neck to keep from slipping off, just talking about nothing and everything.  You learn that the men are old army buddies: Santiago (call sign: Pope), Will (call sign: Ironhead), Ben (no call sign, just Benny because he’s the baby of the group) and of course Francisco, call sign: Catfish.   You giggled at this and Frankie thinks the sound is more than adorable.  You get a chance to run your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck and find them to be as soft as you thought they’d be.  Ultimately, you find yourself spending an inordinate amount of time staring into his warm brown eyes as Frankie tells you about himself and his work as a helicopter pilot and mechanic.  When the little melodic bell chimes to indicate that the private room times are almost up, you can’t believe how fast the time has gone - you leave Francisco with a light kiss on the cheek and thank him for giving your tired feet a rest.

Two weeks later he returns and asks for a private room slot with just you.  And again, two weeks after that.  And again, and again – now a regular occurrence for the past few months, every time the boys came in to the club.  Your time in the private room with Francisco is comfortable, fun, flirty, and always, always safe.  A man of honour, he never touches you - his hands stay by his sides, on the table or on his own body, but never yours.  With time, you give yourself permission to be bold, growing more and more unrestrained with your touches. 

Taking off his cap, you’ll card your hands through his hair and lightly massage Frankie’s scalp – the first time you did this, you earned a soft ‘Baby’ from his plush lips that had your face feeling hotter than hot.  It fills you with something akin to pride and possessiveness that you know those same lips are pillow soft - you’ve run your fingers over them a hundred times, just as you have his cheekbones and jaw line, tracing over every firm line of his handsome face with featherlight strokes.  Nothing compares to feeling of his cheeks cupped in your soft hands as you scratch his patchy scruff, except maybe the swell of your chest when this affectionate gesture secures you another nickname, hermosa. 

But by far, your favourite nickname comes during your third time together.  Having looped both your arms around Frankie’s neck after making him laugh with a funny observation about a TV show you both watch, he closes his eyes once his laughter subsides and murmurs, “You smell like strawberries.”  Giggling, you confess that it’s the glitter gel you borrow from one of the dancers; you were still too new to the club scene to have any of your own body glitter, but you liked the smell of this one so you kept borrowing it and Sasha didn’t seem to mind. 

“Smells good, baby,” Frankie declares, “That’s my favourite dessert, you know?  And you’re just as sweet, Shortcake.”  Shortcake.  The petname had stuck and made you feel giddy every time the endearment slipped from his lips.  You don’t tell him that when you have to buy body wash the following week, you choose a strawberry scented one on purpose.

Sometimes your time with Frankie feels almost like taking an unsanctioned break – some misguided concept of proper work ethic finds you volunteering to dance for him even though it’s not in your job description; to both your delight, you discover you actually enjoy it, greedily drinking in Frankie’s lustful gaze as his eyes follow every dip of your waist and sway of your hips.  More recently, you’ve progressed to massaging his tense shoulders and back when he tells you about his rough days at work; as you push and pull at the corded muscles under his shirt, the deep rumbling groan that drops from his chest shoots straight between your legs and you can’t help but salivate at the idea of making him feel good in other ways.

But most of the time, you simply sit in Frankie’s lap, the two of you chatting and getting to know each other as if you were just two people that met under totally normal circumstances and found the other to be attractive.  You learn that he’s kind and giving, and he makes you laugh so very easily – some nights your face hurts a little from smiling so much, content to just listen to Frankie talk while absentmindedly rubbing his large, paw of a hand with your much smaller ones.

You think about his laugh and the way his entire chest shakes with it all the time.  On the nights between his visits to the club, you go home and think about his soulful eyes and the way they can flicker from a soft puppy dog look to a darkened, gripping expression of want with just a single touch from you.  After the nights you spend with him, he stars in all of your bedtime fantasies and you come to his imagined touch, hard and desperate with his name curling over your lips.  You wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.  If he would smile at you in the morning daylight the way he does when you kiss his cheek goodbye in the dark private room, all soft and almost disbelieving.  You wonder if he ever thinks about you at all outside of your nights together at the club.  You try not to let yourself get too lost in your longing for what might never be, but as the summer goes on, you start to ache for him, missing the little you have of him every day between your rendezvous.

Sadly, as much you cherish the time with Francisco in your little bubble within the safety of the club’s private room, you know it’s a fantasy that can’t last.  While Frankie knows you have a separate career outside of the club, he doesn’t know that your time together is nearly up.  The original timeline for the lab to be ready was end of summer, but an email you received last week indicated that the renovations were ahead of schedule and all lab and research staff could expect to return to work soon, though the exact date was yet to be fixed.  You don’t say anything to him - unwilling to spoil the mood of your limited remaining time together, and moreover, unwilling to broach the topic of what this is and if it could be anything else.  Anything more. 

Afraid, really, of what Francisco’s answer may be.

You have a feeling that your call back to work will come any day now, and that’s how you find yourself in the position you’re in now: topless and gyrating, cunt positively dripping while you touch your breasts salaciously for Francisco’s enjoyment.  Earlier tonight, when he had you sitting on his lap like that first time, the two of you drowning in the other’s eyes and longing looks, you had realized just how much you were going to miss him when you left.  The thought that this might be the last time you’re able have Frankie like this - all to yourself, able to soak in his adoring gaze while drawing a deep sigh of contentment from his chest as you study the strong features of his face, makes you bold and brave.  You rise and stand in between his legs, tilting his face up with your fingers so he looks at you while you reach behind and start to unclasp your bra.

“Hermosa, you don’t have t-” Frankie starts to protest, not sure where this might be coming from.  He’s been perfectly happy with how the two of you have been spending your private room time together.  In no way has Frankie ever wanted you to feel like he was pushing for more than you were giving him.  He won’t pretend that he doesn’t dream about your soft curves and the way your gorgeous figure nearly spills from the drool worthy lingerie you always wear; his nights alone in bed are spent imagining how you might feel writhing underneath him, what sounds he could pull from you while he explores your body – he’s willing to bet you taste sweeter than the strawberry scent that always seems to linger on his skin after he visits you.  But here in this room, it’s only the pleasure of your company and the opportunity to make you laugh and smile that he will ask from you.

Pressing a finger to his lips, you assure him, “Shhhhhh, Francisco.  I want to.  You’ve been so good to me these last few months.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the way you make me feel so special – it’s been a long time since anyone has made me feel this way.”

“Baby, I want to make you feel special everyday,” breathes Frankie.

You sigh, “And you’re so respectful.  I appreciate it so much, baby.  Please. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”  Letting your lacy black bra fall to the ground, you watch as Frankie’s pupils dilate until his eyes turn jet black with want, jaw dropping.

“Holy fuck, Shortcake,” Frankie practically growls, “you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined.”  His unblinking gaze lingering over your pert and bouncy curves, bare and presented for him – a sight he didn’t even dare allow himself to dream.

Cocking your head to the side, you can’t help but feel your heart burst at his admission, “You think about me, Francisco?”

“All the time, baby,” there’s no use playing coy with you, not when you’re so perfect and vulnerable before him.  Frankie manages to tear his eyes away from your nearly nude body only to be met with what he thinks is the most beautiful sight on Earth, you smiling at him sweetly, radiating pure happiness.  Did he do that?  Did he make you happy?  He can’t help but feel a burst of pride - he wants to do it again and again.

Almost shyly, you tease, “Would you let me dance for you?”

Finding himself at a loss for words, Frankie can only assent with a quick nod before he watches, mesmerized, as you start to sway you body to the beat of the music pouring in from outside the private room; every line and dip of your figure moves rhythmically as if to hypnotize him.  Frankie doesn’t know how long you dance, but every brush of your legs against his causes his dick to twitch and he has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning.  When you move your hands to cup those perfect breasts of yours, he stares as you fondle and play with your nipples and thinks he might actually rip holes in his jeans with how hard he’s digging his fingers into his legs.  He’s painfully hard and he wants to touch you so bad.  But, of course he won’t.  You trust him not to cross that line, and he would never want you to feel anything but perfectly safe with him.

When you finally open your eyes, you see Frankie gazing at you - eyes glued to your face with an almost pained look of reverence, devotion etched into the handsome features of his face and it makes your heart sing.  “Francisco,” you tut playfully, “I finally get half naked for you, and you’re looking at my face?”

“Prettiest view in the room, Shortcake.”

“Oh, baby,” you purr, and then as if taking off your top for him wasn’t bold enough, you close the little distance left between your bodies and kiss him.  Soft and tentative at first, but when you feel Frankie’s mouth chase yours for more, the kiss quickly becomes needy, hungry.  Frankie’s hands remain on his legs, so you touch him for the both of you – running your hands through his soft hair, you cradle his head in your palms and tip his face to yours, pulling him up so you can press your lips more greedily to his.  Frankie’s tongue finds yours and he matches its every brush and stroke with equal fervour; as he map the inside of your mouth, the needy groans that vibrate from the back of your throat make his teeth rattle and his heart soar.  You gasp for air, but don’t take in enough because you can’t bear to be parted from his perfect, plush mouth – trading air for the dizziness that comes with the way Frankie devours you.  You kiss him like it’s everything you’ve been wanting to do for the last few months because it is; you kiss him like it’s the last time because it might be.

You break apart to the chime of the bell that warns the private rooms that their sessions are almost over.  Arms still around Frankie’s neck, you’re flattened against him – your knees pressed against his groin where you can feel his hard cock straining against his pants, your now heaving breasts tucked right beneath his chin, but he only has eyes for your face – the two of you grinning like lovestruck fools, though Frankie swears your eyes look a little sad.

“Time’s almost up, Francisco,” you whisper.  Backing away, you grab your bra from where it fell earlier and thread your arms through the straps.  Turning, you hold the cups to your chest and throw over your shoulder, “Do you mind?”

Wordlessly, Frankie expertly hooks your bra closed; when the backs of his thick fingers brush against your skin to buffer the snap of the band, that iota of contact sends an electrical current straight to your throbbing core.  And just when you think that’s all you’ll ever have of Francisco’s touch, you feel it: a soft, tender kiss to your lower back.  It’s so sweet you have to choke back a sob. 

Leaving him at the curtain to the room, you kiss his cheek lightly as you always do.

“See you next time, Shortcake.”

“Goodnight, Francisco.”

As if you were clairvoyant, the call from your old job comes the following Wednesday, and by that Friday you’ve worked your last shift at The Midnight Palace.  Saying goodbye to your co-workers, you know you’ll genuinely miss them and truly hope to keep in touch.

You wrestle briefly with leaving Francisco a message, but the truth is, you don’t know what you’d say or what you’d be asking for.  What you shared in the private room had seemed so precious and real, but was it really?  Could it ever survive in the real world?  The real world of kids, and long work days, and mundane chores?  If the magic of your time together with Frankie was marred by reality or if he never even responded, your fantasy of him would be shattered and then you wouldn’t even have the memory of him.  So, selfishly and somewhat cowardly, you opt to keep your little fantasy of Francisco for yourself and your lonely nights, and you leave knowing that in a week’s time he’ll show up and find you gone. 

The return to work is unremarkable and your schedule quickly normalizes to what it was before the lab incident; you’re happy to see your team again and easily delve back into the work you enjoy.  The remainder of the summer passes quickly, and before you know it, the first day of kindergarten is upon you.

Walking hand in hand with your son, you can’t help shedding a few tears seeing your child take this monumental step.  He’s nervous, but is taking a lot of big kid pride in being brave like you talked about.  After helping him find his cubby and putting his backpack away, you step into the hallway to say your last goodbyes as the teacher has instructed.

Burying his face in your neck, your son murmurs, “I love you, mama,” before striding confidently back into the classroom, waving back to your tearful, “I love you, Ray-ray! See you after school!”

Behind you, you hear the sniffles of a young girl who is having a little more difficulty separating from her parent; the low rumble of her father whispering words of reassurance and love transition to a louder and clear, “I’m proud of you, mija!” as the little girl walks tentatively towards the open door of the classroom.

That voice.  That calm, deep baritone is oddly familiar to you but you can’t quite place it.  You might puzzle over it a little if it wasn’t for your son reaching out his hand to the little girl at that moment and saying, “Hi!  I’m Raynor!  I’m in your class!” and the little girl smiling back wide, “Hi Raynor!  I’m Valentina!” before they walk hand-in-hand towards their new teacher.

Proud of your son and slightly relieved that he might have just made his first friend, you turn around to beam at the father of the little girl. 

You can only imagine the look of brief recognition quickly giving way to shock that the tall, good-looking man gives you, mirrors your own.  How was this possible?

Francisco.

Part 2

[myosotisa]

something good - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: Eddie is drifting through town when he starts offering guitar lessons at night after work to make some extra cash. You are one of the first people to call, saying you want to learn how to play.

‖  tags: hurt/comfort, cheating/infidelity, domestic violence (not described, but visible bruising is discussed), strangers to lovers, fluffy and cute. no y/n. no pronouns, but reader is referred to as a woman and a bride. based on the song I Wanna Learn a Love Song by Harry Chapin (yeah like the 3 other fics i have that mention this song shut uP). happy ending.

‖  word count: 4.1k ‖  read on AO3 ‖ the song ‖

When you get here, come around to the garden door, through the fence on the left side of the house. Please don’t knock on the front door.

With a battered six string slung over his shoulder, in ripped jeans and a band tee, Eddie was absolutely positive that it looked like he was trying to break into this house. That, from an outside perspective, he was a dirty, homeless guy – nervously looking around before pushing into a stranger’s backyard.

A pretty little blue house in a cul de sac with a fancy car out front and the lawn manicured just so. He walked under a trellis with woven vines and white flowers, little stones marking a path in the lawn, and toward the baby blue screen door.

His second day clothes and the pinch in his neck from sleeping in the van had never felt more apparent than they did right now.

After several minutes of contemplating if this was really something he had to do, he hit his knuckles on the aluminum frame of the door and waited. Heard the loud bellowing laugh of a man, and then another, followed by the click of a heavy door shutting, muffling the noise.

The screen door opened with a creak and there was you – with a smile that made him think maybe the sun wasn’t setting just yet.

“You’re Eddie, right?” You asked, leaning on the door as you looked him over. And he expected judgment, maybe disapproval. But you just kept smiling, like he was an old friend coming home after a long time away.

“Yup, that’s me,” he replied as he rocked back on his heels awkwardly, dipping his head in a greeting. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he realized that he hadn’t even tried to remember your name from when you called him earlier this week. “And you are…?”

If you were offended by it, you didn’t show it. Just gave him your first name and invited him onto the porch. Offered him a drink and asked him if he found the place okay. Pleasantries. Politeness.

Autopilot.

He took a seat at the white metal table on the screened-in porch, standing out starkly in his black and denim, and nervously tapped his hands against his knees. You sat down on the chair beside him, dressed in a comfortable sweater and a pair of pants that looked more expensive than his guitar. Casual but put together.

The porch was spotless and there was a hint of jasmine on the breeze. Eddie could not shake the feeling that he did not belong here.

“I guess I want to start off by saying this would be a very temporary arrangement, if you decide you want to keep getting lessons after this one,” he said, wanting to get that settled immediately. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be in town.”

Surprised and intrigued, you learned a bit closer toward him. “Oh! That’s alright. Are you not from around here?”

“No, not really,” he muttered, setting the guitar on the table in front of you. Not particularly interested in getting to know you better, he started off with the easy stuff. “So do you know how to play at all?”

You shook your head with a bashful smile, tucking your hands beneath your thighs. “Not a chord.”

He shrugged, like that wasn’t a big deal. “That’s fine. Are you hoping to learn all the chords and stuff?”

“Oh, no. I’d really just like to learn a couple songs. Is that okay?” You asked it like you were afraid of inconveniencing him. You were paying him for a lesson – who the hell was he to tell you no.

“Sure, that works. Do you have your own guitar? Or are we sharing mine?”

Your smile dropped a bit then, like he’d touched a nerve. “No, not yet. My husband wants to make sure this isn’t just another ‘passing fancy’ before he lets me buy one.” And you laughed it off, shaking your head with a good natured shrug.

“Huh. Okay, no problem. We can take turns – I’ll show you and then you can try.” You nodded eagerly, shifting further up in your seat. “Any songs in particular you were thinking of?”

“Oh, well… I’d really like to learn a love song. Something happy. Something people would want to sing along to.”

The look he gave you in response was strange, almost like disbelief. Being a pessimist by experience, you seemed like everything he loathed. But there was something else, something good. Something that made the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smile against his will.

“A love song, huh? I think we can manage one or two.”

Every week at the same time, Eddie would pass through your garden and knock on the blue screen door. Every week, you closed the door separating your husband’s poker game from the porch and greeted him with the warmest smile he had seen since the last time.

He’d teach you a couple of chords, how to strum along the strings. Tried to be as respectful as possible and keep his distance. You were a married woman after all, he could see the shine from the multi-karat diamond on your finger when you shifted into the positions on the neck.

Little by little, you coaxed more info out of Eddie. He worked as a mechanic during the day and did these guitar lessons at night. He was saving up money to get out of town and would only be giving lessons until he felt like he had enough. He didn’t like staying in one place for too long. You were around the same age, only a couple years off. He had always wanted to be a musician – but it had never worked out for him.

After an hour or two, you’d announce that it was about time for him to go and slide him some cash. Double and triple checking that he’d be back next week; that he wasn’t leaving yet.

And every week, he promised he’d be back.

“A musician, huh? I guess that makes sense.” You replied, eyes trained on the way his fingers manipulated the strings on the acoustic. To learn, of course, no other reason. “Just guitar?”

“I sing a little too, but was always better at playing.”

You sat up a bit too straight, leaned a bit too far forward, looked a little too excited. “Will you sing something for me? I’d love to hear it.”

And, lately, he was having a lot of trouble saying no to you. “Are you sure? Seems like a waste of your lesson time.”

“I don’t think it will be. Play and sing something for me. Please?”

And so he did. Because he couldn’t quite find it in himself to say no.

And it happened again. And again.

Half the time, he wasn’t even teaching you to play anymore. The two of you would talk, and he would play, and you both would sing quietly on your porch as the sun set and night fell. Until it was time for him to leave again.

Neither of you talked about it. But it was the best part of both your weeks. Something to look forward to.

You reappeared 10 minutes later, looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The door hadn’t fully shut behind you as you stepped out, your hands wringing in front of you. “I think you better go. I forgot to take care of something and Henry…” You trailed off, shaking your head as you offered him an embarrassed smile. “Sorry to cut the lesson short.”

One week, you were interrupted by a loud call of your name. Eddie watched all the color drain from your face and how your posture went rigid before you flashed him another smile. “Sorry, just… Just a minute.” You said apologetically, pushing the guitar into his hands and hurrying inside.

Confused, he couldn’t help but look you over before letting his gaze skip over to the darkness through the open door. To the space inside that he’d never seen. “Oh. Yeah, no, that’s fine.” He reassured you, his eyebrows drawing together in a worry he couldn’t identify.

“Thanks again Eddie,” you said, corralling like you were trying to rush him out as you pressed the cash into his hand. “I’ll see you next week?”

And you looked at him hopefully, pleadingly. Every week. Like you were terrified this would be the time he finally said no.

Every week, he said, “I’ll see you then.”

When he looked back, he saw you, giving him that same warm smile as you offered a little wave goodbye. And over your shoulder, in the dark of the house, Henry was standing there. Watching him go.

The next few weeks were back to normal. He’d come around the back, you’d let him in, and you’d both laugh and smile for the first time all week.

He’d only managed to teach you half a song, but that was fine with you. You’d rather listen to him play and sing than anything else. Begged for it every week. Sang along when you felt like it too. It was easy, happy, and good.

Eddie was only a few feet from the fence gate when he heard you call his name. Backing up, you were standing in the open doorway of the front, waving him over with that same bright smile. “Hey! It’s good to see you.”

Hesitantly, he approached the door, hands in his pockets and the guitar slung over his shoulder. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to use the front door,” he teased, slowly marching the couple of steps to meet you.

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed his forearm and tugged him in, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Henry is out of town, so I thought we could have our lesson inside this week. Maybe listen to something on the stereo too.”

Distracted by studying the interior of your home, he nodded and muttered an agreement. You fussed over him taking his boots off at the door and then padded across the living room in your socks and into the kitchen to get him a drink.

He walked the room like an art gallery, looking over the art on the walls and the photos. Stopped short on a picture of you and Henry on your wedding day. You, all done up, and beaming up at him like he was a hero as he smiled toward the camera.

You were a beautiful bride.

“Come, sit,” you coaxed from the couch, dragging his attention back to reality. You’d produced a bowl of pretzels and two glasses of lemonade, laid out on the coffee table in nice, expensive glassware. You were sitting on the edge of the cushion, looking up at him with that same warm smile. Like an old friend coming home.

You seemed much more at ease than ever before: smiled easier, laughed louder. Offered him some whiskey and asked him to sing you something while you mixed some drinks.

So the two of you sang and played and drank and laughed and talked for an hour or two, and then longer. The time that you would normally ask him to leave came and went – and you kept singing and talking as the sun went down and night settled over the cul de sac.

The light in the living room was low and warm, casting a glow over both of you. Eddie sang until he felt like he couldn’t anymore, and then you stepped over to turn on the stereo. He couldn’t help but notice you were even closer when you sat back down again.

Eventually, the talking fizzled out, and the two of you sat and listened to the soft melody coming from the stereo in comfortable silence. You’d turned slightly toward him, your legs tucked up on the couch as you leaned an elbow on the back. He had turned toward you too, one knee propped on the cushions.

You both just looked at each other – exchanging small smiles in the growing silence.

And maybe Eddie drank too much of your fancy whiskey, because he leaned in just a little bit closer, looked down at your mouth for just a little too long.

His hand settled on your jaw, thumb to cheek, and felt the heat of your flushed cheeks. He dipped even closer, his eyes lowering, as your breath caught in your chest.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size as your chest rose and fell with stronger breaths, but you didn’t move away. If anything you gravitated closer subconsciously, just a tiny bit of your lower lip tucked between your teeth.

He could swear he heard both of your hearts pounding – but maybe it was just the beat of the stereo he’d tuned out.

“Please, sweetheart,” he found himself begging, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to go.”

You’re married. I’m leaving. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Please, Eddie,” you begged in return, your eyebrows pinching together on your forehead in pain. “Please don’t stop.”

And he kissed you like he meant it. Like this was right, even though it was wrong. Like this was supposed to happen, even though it wasn’t.

And you kept kissing him back like you meant it. Like it was easy. Like it was good.

For the next week, Eddie felt like he was walking on air. Like he was living some kind of dream.

You’d kissed him. You’d held him. You’d touched him like no one ever had before. Like he was something, like he was good.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like he was something good.

Couldn’t remember the last time something, or someone, felt like it was worth sticking around for.

And he was whistling a happy tune when he pushed through the gate fence like usual, walking along the stepping stones under the trellis, and to the baby blue screen door. He tapped three times, already smiling just at the idea of seeing you.

But he didn’t hear your husband and his buddies inside. Didn’t hear the loud click of the door shutting. Just saw the vague outline of you approaching the screen door.

You only opened it a few inches, hiding half of your face. Your smile was weak, sad. Forced.

“Sorry, I meant to call you,” you said, fidgeting uncomfortably in the doorway.

His heart dropped, his expression falling too. “Oh. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” you assured him, and he decided to ignore how choked it sounded. “I just have to cancel our lesson this week. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He looked you over in concern, his mind racing. Was this because of last week? Did you regret it? Do you regret me? “That’s fine, but are you sure everythin–”

Your hand pressed some cash into his, interrupting him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, before shutting the screen door and turning away.

He stood there until the door clicked shut behind you. And then a little longer.

You didn’t ask if he would be back next week. And he thought to himself…

Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t.

He didn’t get the chance to decide if he would show up the next week, because he saw you again 5 days later.

Through the window to the lobby, he saw you talking to the receptionist with a smile. It almost felt like seeing you for the first time – not on your porch or in your house. Out in the world, the same one he lived in.

Careful not to hit his head, he pushed upright from the engine he had been working on, wiping the grease from his hands on the rag hanging from the pocket of his coveralls. He stretched his arms up and back – his shoulders protesting and throbbing in pain as he did so.

Shaking out his limbs after spending a bit too long in the same position, he swung his head this way and that and then did a double take.

He didn’t realize he was walking toward the lobby, toward you, until he was pushing through the glass door inside.

You and the receptionist both looked over at the sound, your jaw dropping as the receptionist gave a nod and told you that she would be right back, leaving the two of you alone. “Eddie…” You said, quiet like a whisper. Quiet like singing on the porch while your husband was inside.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he responded with a conflicted smile, taking a few steps closer. Becoming even more conscious of the sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead and that he probably smelled not so great, and wondered if you could smell it too.

Your smile twisted into something sad as you faced him fully, your hands still settled on the receptionist's counter. Both of your eyes had dark shadows beneath them, but on one of them the skin was almost puffy – and the dark coloring extended down into your cheekbone.

Eddie’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as he took three steps closer, fingertips coming to your chin to tilt your head so he could get a better look. Your eyes closed in defeat, allowing him to study the bruising around your eye that was poorly covered by makeup, and another bruise just peeking out of the collar of your turtleneck.

It was like ice water down his spine. Goosebumps breaking out across his skin as his muscles tightened in quick succession, anger and adrenaline kicking up. “Who? Who did this to you?”

Your eyes opened again as you faced him head on, tears pooling in your lower lash line as you shook your head. “Please, sweetheart. Did Henry…?” Your expression fell as you looked away from him, your mouth setting into a firm line.

“It’s nothing,” you tried to say, tried to push him away, tried to close off.

“It’s not nothing,” he hissed, his anger getting the better of him before you flinched – breaking his heart in two. He reeled himself back, one hand dipping to cup your elbow over your sweater sleeve. “He gave you a black eye, and that bruise on your neck, and I bet those aren’t the only–”

“Eddie, I’ll be fine.” You insisted, the muscles in your jaw tight and hurting. “It was an accident– I shouldn’t have tried to– I swear, he’s a good man…” You skipped from thought to thought as your tone wavered, your eyes trained on the door the receptionist disappeared into as if willing her to come back, to save you from this interaction.

“I don’t know much,” he said sadly, getting your attention again. “But I do know that he is not a good man. And I think you know it too.”

Your mouth opened and closed, once, twice. Blinking at him as a single tear fell down your cheek.

The receptionist stepped back in and you rushed to wipe the tear away, subtly taking a step away from him. You greeted her with a polite smile as she handed you a stack of papers and a set of car keys. Eddie took that as his cue to leave – turning his back to you and heading back for the garage.

“Eddie?”

He turned back slightly, looking at you as you hesitated by the door to the lobby. Your shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath before you spoke again. “I’ll see you next week?” You asked, thinly veiled hope in your voice.

Your smile wavered, your eyes getting slightly misty again, as you gave him a slight nod. “Okay.”

And it was so, so hard to say no to you.

“Why don’t you give me a call when you’ve figured things out?” He offered vaguely, well aware of the receptionist still in the room and how she was probably eavesdropping. “And we’ll see if I’m still around then.”

Then you pushed back out into the sun and away from him.

Two months later, at the usual time on the usual day, Eddie’s phone rings.

Just like every time his phone rang before this, every time since the last time he talked to you those weeks ago, he tries not to get his hopes up when he picks it up. “Hello?”

Just so he can be sure it’s really you.

“Hey Eddie,” you reply through the hum of the landline. You sound exhausted but happy. Or maybe he's reading too much into it already.

He’s tempted to ask you to repeat yourself, like he hadn’t heard you, just so he can hear it again.

“Hey,” he offers instead, attempting to keep his cool despite the sweat that immediately broke out across his palms.

There’s a few moments of silence, and he’s worried maybe you hung up. Maybe you decided this wasn’t a good idea. He’s about to ask if you’re still there when you ask, “Are you free tonight for a lesson?”

His brain stutters, confused as he narrows his eyes at the wall. “For a lesson?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, the air huffing noisily across the line. “You can bring your guitar and we… We can play in the living room.”

Hope tugs at his heart like a fishing line being reeled in towards shore. “In the living room?” He repeats again, for reassurance.

There’s a few moments of silence that weigh heavily on his shoulders before you reply. “If that’s okay?”

“I can be there in an hour.”

He ended up on your doorstep a little bit earlier than that.

The fancy car was gone from the driveway and the lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in a little bit too long.

Nervous like a kid going on his first date, he hiked up the concrete steps and knocked on your front door. Held his breath – like he was waiting for you to open it and yell at him for coming to the front, for coming at all.

You opened the door and gave him that smile again. Like he was an old friend coming home after a long time away.

“Eddie,” you said, half as a relieved sigh. “It’s good to see you.”

And you looked good. Tired and a bit like you had been having trouble taking care of yourself, but lighter. More at ease.

“It’s good to see you too.”

You invited him in, fussed about him taking his boots off at the door, and then rushed to grab him a drink – more nervous than you were before. Nervous?

He noticed the missing photos on the walls before he sat down on the couch and set his guitar beside him. You came back over with a snack and two drinks, setting them on the coffee table with slightly trembling hands. When you sat down on the couch, a friendly distance away, you stopped to take a deep breath. Like you’d noticed how visibly anxious you were.

He took the moment to ask the question burning in his chest. “How are you?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head. But the smile was still there as you shifted to look more fully at him. “I’m… I’m tired. But better.” You confirmed, telling him in not so many words you were glad for what happened. He smiled too – which only seemed to make yours grow wider. 

“I was scared you might’ve left town already,” you admitted quietly.

And honestly, he had thought about it. He had the money he’d originally planned to save and more. But everytime he thought about leaving, he felt this sink in his gut. Like he would regret it if he did. And maybe it was silly to wait but, it led him back here.

“I think I decided to stick around for a while,” he offered vaguely. Shrugging a shoulder like it was a small thing. Like he hadn’t admitted to you that staying places for too long made him feel antsy and uncomfortable.

Your face was hopeful, almost pleading. “You did?”

And when he nodded to reassure you, the smile that broke out across your face made him feel like maybe the sun wasn’t setting just yet.

“So… A lesson?” He asked, grabbing the neck of his guitar and pulling it into his lap before looking to you.

You pulled your legs up to tuck on the couch beside you, turned toward him with your elbow resting on the back cushions. “Actually, I think I just want to hear you play.”

“Oh yeah?” He teased, trying to ignore how it made a flush push up his neck from his chest in embarrassment. “What do you want to hear?”

“Something happy,” you responded quietly, like singing on the porch at night. “Something good.”

“Something happy…” He murmured, absently strumming along the beat up six string in his lap. 

Looking up and meeting your eyes again, seeing your smile again, he thought of just the song. “I think we can manage that.”

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