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#And Ed can be like ‘Yeah well I kinda like folding stuff. And I kinda love you.’
saltpepperbeard · 2 years
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There’s something so domestic and sweet about Ed asking Stede if he needs his clothes folded while they’re captive. Just the gentleness to his voice, barely above a whisper, asking, “Do you need anything folded? Your shirt? Your socks?”
It just seems like a glimpse of all the love and care to come.
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mypoisonedvine · 10 months
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Congrats on 30k! So well deserved. I’m the anon who asked about the make out with Eddie (thank you so much, loved it!).
Now I’m kinda curious…. would you possibly please tell us more about Eddie putting “just the tip” in? Think my brain short circuited when I read that.
oh yeah a lot of people were very curious about that... allow me to expand just a bit...
warnings: needy eddie being manipulative, heavy dubcon/coercion, unwanted/unexpected creampie, religious/virgin reader
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"Come on, baby, please?" he whined, tightening his grip on your hips.
"Eddie," you whimpered, "stop— hard enough to say no to you already."
"Good," he smiled, "just... stop saying no. I know you want it, too."
He wasn't wrong, of course, but you'd told yourself you wouldn't give it up for Eddie Munson. Actually, you told yourself you wouldn't even go out with him at all, but you did— and then you did again, and now he was technically your boyfriend but nobody else could know that. It wouldn't be a good look for you if Hawkins' good little church girl was caught in Eddie's trailer.
If only they could see you now: under him on his filthy old mattress, your panties pulled to the side, his cock rubbing against your thigh. Every time you saw him, you swore you wouldn't let it go any further— then you'd walk through that trailer door and he'd convince you. First it was just kissing, and you slapped his hand away when it groped one of your boobs; but then it was under the shirt stuff but absolutely nothing below the belt. Until suddenly he had you rubbing your hand on the bulge in his jeans, because it's fine if you don't actually touch it, right? Then he convinced you to let him rub his fingers over the outside of your panties, and that had you so desperate you almost considered dry humping him until you came— but you absolutely positively could not come with him, it was just wrong, it was against everything you'd been taught.
"Eddie, I can't," you swore, "I'm saving myself for marriage. I shouldn't have even done all that stuff with you from before!"
"Yeah, but I mean, fuck, look how pretty you are," he cooed.
"Y-you're just saying that," you whispered, "because you want my... chastity."
He purred through his teeth. "You know when you call it stupid things like that, it just gets me goin' even more, princess."
You whined and writhed your hips around for a moment, your pussy desperate for attention it had never known. "It's not stupid, Ed, it's my religion— it's God's law!"
"I know, I know," he sighed, "we don't have to do it. We won't. I'll just rub it on your pussy."
"No, Eddie!"
He groaned, running his hands up your shivering thighs. "C'mon, baby, feel how hard I am for you? You're so fucking sexy. It's a waste, honestly, a body like this not getting loved up."
"W-well, I think it would be a waste to give you my virginity when you're not my husband."
"It's not your virginity! It's just the outside, I won't go in."
"It's close enough!"
"Okay, fine, I'll marry you," he shrugged.
"Eddie! It doesn't work like that, I'm too young," you rolled your eyes.
He leaned down, hovering over you, looking at your face carefully. "Princess..." he whispered.
You bit your lip, your resolve beginning to crumble again.
"Please, honey, just let me feel how warm you are, that's it. And then I can wait as long as you need, I just need something to tide me over 'til then."
You swallowed thickly, wondering if what he really meant was I need something to keep me interested. "...just the outside, right?" you confirmed, and he beamed.
"Yeah! I won't go in," he promised. "Just wanna feel you soak me, that's all."
He held his dick at the base, guiding it to press right against your slick folds; you both sighed, your hips jumping at the feeling. He was so thick, his shaft spread your lips wide apart, and it made your stomach turn.
"Damn, baby," he groaned, watching his cock slide over your cunt. "You're so warm... fuck..."
You were such a sucker for how desperate he looked, his lips falling slack as he moaned for you, his hands holding tight onto your hips. "Eddie," you whimpered.
"I know baby, m'right here," he breathed, "god, I gotta feel inside you, princess. Just the tip, please baby—"
"Eddie!" you nearly sobbed, frustrated that he kept testing your integrity over and over. The first 'no' was so easy, natural even, but the hundredth was like pulling teeth. "We can't, Eddie, you can't—"
"It's just gonna be the tip, princess, I swear, just need to feel you on me," he whimpered. "I fucking need you— you're so perfect, princess, I need you so bad I can't take it."
Your breaths got faster and heavier as his cock slid over your clit just right. "Just... just the tip, okay?" you conceded. "But that's it. Nothing else, ever."
"I know, baby, I know," he promised, pushing down on his cock with his thumb as he guided it to your pulsing hole. "M'gonna just feel you, that's all..."
He pressed hard against you, pushing into your tight entrance, until finally the pressure was enough to break your body's resistance and the head slid in all at once; you whined in pain, and he moaned louder than you'd ever heard as he let his head fall back.
"Fuck, baby," he panted, "maybe you were right about this waiting thing— feels so much better with all the anticipation. Shit, been thinking about this since I first saw you— how this little pussy would feel. It feels so fucking perfect, baby..."
You whined, struggling to imagine how this was just the tip when it felt like you were being stretched so wide...
"I need a little more, princess, please," he sighed. "Just one more inch, that's not even half of it— I swear I can't help myself, you're irresistible."
"O-okay," you choked out, and the second you agreed to it, he filled you even more; it made your back arch, and with how wet you'd become it didn't hurt like you had been warned it would someday. (You still couldn't quite accept that 'someday' was today.)
"Oh fuck, fuck, baby," he whimpered, "you're so fucking good. My perfect girl. Fuck, I'm just gonna move a little... just one thrust. Just one, fuck..."
He pulled his hips back and slowly rocked them back forward, letting himself go just a bit deeper until you whined loudly. "Eddie, s-stop, no more, okay? Let's just stay like this..."
"Shit," he grunted, thrusting again. "I swear I can't fucking stop now, you feel too good. I'm already close, 'cause you're such a tease and all... I'm already so fucking close, baby, just let me come, okay?"
"Fuck, Eddie," you sighed, holding on tighter to the sheets under you. "Y-you can't, that's— that's not—"
"Princess," he breathed as he started to thrust more earnestly into you, each one a bit faster and going a little deeper than the last. "I swear I'm about to come. Just— just a little more, I'm gonna fucking come."
"But you're gonna pull out first," you assumed.
"Y-yeah," he said, "sure, of course."
For saying basically 'yes' three times, it wasn't so convincing. "Eddie, you have to pull out."
"I know," he nodded.
"You can come on me, you just have to—"
"Ohhhh fuck, fuck!" he moaned, and all at once he shoved himself to the brim inside you; you gasped just from the pain of his cock hitting so deep inside you, you hadn't even noticed yet that he was coming. "Oh my god, princess, you're fucking perfect..."
"Eddie, did you come?" you realized when he stopped moving, keeping himself to the hilt in you.
He didn't answer, just shut his eyes and started to catch his breath.
"Eddie!" you yelped, shoving him away and trying desperately to get him out of you. "Fuck, Eddie, I could get pregnant! What the fuck!"
"Sorry, princess," he sighed, though he kept a tight hold on your hips so you couldn't get out from under him. "You just feel too good. I couldn't help it."
"Oh my god, Eddie, oh my god!" you started to sob, terrified of the potential consequences.
"It's okay, baby," he promised, "it's gonna be fine. Because now that you've done it already, we can do it more, right?"
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loousir · 3 years
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Soulmates {Oikawa Tooru}
Oikawa Tooru x Male Reader Part One
Anime: Haikyuu!!
Warnings: I dont think there is any?
Masterlist | Part Two
AU: Soulmates can have a different way of finding their partner. Yours is after both partners are at least 18, on the youngers birthday, they will swap bodies. They have to share their first of something together in order to return to their respective body. (Ex. Sharing their first kiss, first drink etc.)(If one has already kissed or shared a drink, for example, it wont count as sharing a first) Oikawa's is knowing what their first words to you are.
Originally Posted on February 2, 2021
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Today was finally your birthday. That meant that you would get to find out who your soulmate was. You were nervous but knew about it so you were prepared. A little.
You were getting dressed to go to school today and thankfully it was the end of the week so you'd have all weekend to find your soulmate. What nice and convenient timing. You did your morning routine before getting changed into your uniform. After pulling up you striped brown pants and adjusting your white jacket, you slipped the red tie around your neck before grabbing your things and heading downstairs.
You said a quick goodbye to your mom after stealing a toaster waffle and your lunch. You slipped on your shoes and headed out to school.
On the way there, you ran into Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You were very good acquaintances but not close enough to consider friends, like hanging at each others houses kind of friends. You and Iwaizumi shared class together but the three of you almost always walked to school together.
"Happy birthday (Y/n)-kun! You're finally 18 right?" Oikawa asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and leaning on your slightly smaller frame. He poked your cheek gently as you ate, trying to get a reply out of you. "Shittykawa, cant you see he's eating something? Let him chew first." Oikawa pouted slightly at his "nickname" and sighed.
You finished chewing and nodded. "Yeah, I'm 18 today. I'll find out who my soulmate is tomorrow and I really hope it isn't you." You said in a serious tone as the three of you continued walking to Aoba Johsai. Oikawa whined on the way there with Iwaizumi butting in to shut him up.
The trio finally made it to school and went their separate ways, aka you and Iwaizumi in one and Oikawa right next door.
---
The day started and went on normally til lunch.
Iwaizumi and Oikawa usually go to their practice but today they invited you to eat with them. You accepted not exactly knowing why.
"So (Y/n)-kun~ Who do you think is your soulmate?" You shrugged as you ate your bento, glancing up at Oikawa. "You really wanna know?" You asked taking another bite. Oikawa nodded as he ate his own bento. Iwaizumi smirked over to you as he ate his lunch as well. "You should tell him (L/n)-san."
"I hope it turns out to be Kageyama."
Oikawa practically snorted out his drink and stared at you in shock. "You cant be serious?! Him?!" You laughed at the water running down his face and shook your head. You grabbed a napkin you had and wiped the pretty setters face. "Of course not."
Oikawa let out a sigh of relief. "I'd want Daichi to be my soulmate." You said in a dreamy tone as Oikawa choked on his rice. Iwaizumi had nothing today besides laughing at the scene in front of him. Oikawa leaned on his good knee over to you and gripped your shoulders. He shook you gently as he cried, saying something about 'anyone but the wingless crows.'
Iwaizumi pulled him off you after a minute and scolded him. You finished up your bento and checked your phone. There was 40 minutes of lunch left when you looked to the best friends. "So, what did you guys invite me to hang for?" Iwaizumi looked over to you and tilted his head slightly. "Are we not allowed to invite a friend to hang out?"
You leaned back on your hands and closed your eyes, letting your head fall backwards. "You are, it's just, weird. The Cap and vice Cap of the volleyball team invite a lowly art club member to hang out at lunch together. Sounds a bit odd doesnt it?"
Iwaizumi nodded and Oikawa didnt respond. You lifted your head up to see Oikawa a bit of a distance away, surrounded by a flock of girls. "Its your turn to pull him away. I'm gonna go check something." You sighed and stood up.
"Hey, shittykawa." Oikawa instantly turned around at the nickname and his fan girls became upset with you calling him that. "(Y/n)-kun~ You're taking after Iwaizumiii~" He said walking over to you. "And we were supposed to be hanging out." You said acting all coy. "You promised me we would this morning..." You whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
The girls were jealous and talking amongst themselves as Oikawa just looking at you, shocked. He had a deep blush covering his cheeks as you folded your hands together in front of you and looked to the ground with a pout. "(Y/n)-kun..." You looked up to him with puppy dog eyes. He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug.
"(Y/N)-KUN! IM SO SORRY!" He said as if he actually forgot he promised you to hang out. You smiled and giggled, gently prying him off of you. You grabbed his hand and started to walk with him. "C'mon. Let's go back to our spot." You said as you watched the lady flock disperse. Oikawa followed along, apologizing for forgetting a promise he never made.
Once the two of you were alone you sighed and let go of his hand. "Oikawa." He shut up and looked up to you with teary eyes. "You didnt promise me we'd hang out. Its ok." You may be mean to Oikawa but theres something about him that you love. You just cant be mean to him all the time... Ok yes you can but sometimes you want to be nice to him.
Oikawa smiled and pulled you into a hug again. You cautiously hugged back and patted his back. The bell signaling lunch was over rang and the two of you pulled away. "I'll stop by the gym after school to say a quick goodbye." You said grabbing yours and Iwaizumis stuff. Oikawa nodded and grabbed his stuff as well. He had a big smile on his face for some reason but you just brushed it off.
The rest of the day passed by pretty quickly. You had told Iwaizumi about stopping for a quick bye and he said, "Just be prepared for Oikawa." You didnt exactly know what the meant because you always were but before you could ask he had left for practice.
Once you were ready, you head down to the gym and pulled open the door. The lights were off and you furrowed your brows. "I thought there was practice today..." You mumbled to yourself.
Suddenly the lights turned on to show they gym and the volleyball team to be all dressed in nice birthday attire. You only stared shocked at the scene in front of you as the all shouted, "Surprise!" Oikawa appeared in front of your vision with a wide grin on his face and a small gift in his hand.
You blinked a few times and looked up to his eyes before looking to Iwaizumi who was approaching the two of you. "Y-you guys... Did this for me?" You asked, still surprised by what happened. Iwaizumi shrugged and tilted his head to the side saying 'kinda.' "It was Oikawa's idea."
Oikawa smiled and grabbed one of your hands, putting the gift in it. Iwaizumi put a party hat on your head before walking over to a table full of sweets and a cake. "Can I talk to you outside for a second?" You asked Oikawa. He smiled and lead the two of you outside the gym and away from prying ears.
"What did you wanna talk to me about?" You held the gift in your hand and pulled him into a tight hug. He stood tense for a moment before hugging back. "What's this for?" Oikawa asked with a small laugh. You buried your head in his chest and started to tremble slightly. He demeanor changed when he felt his shirt get slightly wet. "H-hey, (Y/n)? Are you ok?"
You nodded and kept hugging him. He hugged back and gently stroked the back of your head. "No ones ever done something like this before. So it's kinda a lot." You said clearly, having calmed down from your previous state. Oikawa laughed and pulled the two of you away to look you in the eyes.
"Really? Well then I'll have to step it up next time!" You smiled up to him softly before sadly looking down to your shoes. "I'm nervous Kawa..." His smile fades away to a sigh. "Me too." You look up to him in confusion. "I... Really hope tomorrow, I'll wake up in your body, Tooru..." He looks to your eyes and he has tears in this.
Dont ruin this moment shittykawa
"Me too."
You look up to him and smile a little. "C'mon, let's go back inside and par-tay a little before it's too late!" Oikawa said with a smile as he dragged you back inside. You saw Iwaizumi standing by a punch bowl with a knowing smirk but you didnt think much of it.
---
Everyone had hung around and "par-tay"-ed till about 7pm. They decided to call it there and start cleaning up. You tried to help but both Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped you. "Why dont you and Oikawa head back first? The least we can do is clean up."
"But you guys did all this for me, I have to try to help even a little." Iwaizumi put your things over your shoulder and pushed you to an already raring to go Oikawa. "Just head home. Its ok." Oikawa gently grabbed your hand but you stopped and addressed the whole team.
They had paused to look at you and listen. You bowed and thanked them, your bow hiding the tears in your eyes. You stood up straight and smiled to them before going with an impatient Oikawa.
---
The walk to your home was filled with comfortable conversation about the party. "Hey, (Y/n)-kun? Could we have a sleepover at your house?" You looked up to him and tilted your head slightly. "Like the whole team? That's a lot of people and I dont know if my parents would even let me since there away right now-"
"No, not the whole team. Just us." You blushed at what he said and looked away, slightly embarrassed for rambling. "Oh... J-just the two of us?" He nodded and you just shrugged. "I-I guess thats... Ok. I dont think they'll mind." You said rubbing the back of your neck. "Let's goo then!" Oikawa said, dragging you to your house.
Once you two arrived, you unlocked the door and let him in. "Your house is so much bigger on the inside." He said looking around. "Wow thanks." He laughed, "I didnt mean it in a bad way!" You rolled your eyes and walked upstairs to your room thinking, "How the fuck does this dude make me flustered so easily..."
You didnt even realize Oikawa had followed you, thinking he would just stay downstairs for the time being. When you turned around to close the door you jumped at his presence. "I-Im gonna change so you can just hang out downstairs till I'm done." He smiled and gently rubbed the back of his head before asking, "Do you think I could use your shower actually?"
"Oh, yeah, go for it. It's the door behind you." You said pointing over his shoulder. He thanked you as you got him a towel he could use. You closed the door to your room and got changed into some comfy pjs. The shower could be heard through your door but you didnt mind and decided to make yourself comfortable on your bed and watch some tv.
After a few minutes, the shower turned off and after another couple minutes, the door opening to reveal a shirtless Oikawa wearing sweatpants. You looked over only to look away just as fast. Oikawa smirked and jumped into the bed with you. You squeaked a very manly squeak as he hovered over you.
Your eyes looked up to his but couldn't be stopped when they looked at his chest. 'A tattoo?' You looked back up to him and asked, "You have a tattoo? Since when?" He just smiled and shook his head. "Since I was like twelve. Look what it says." He said sitting the two of you up. Oikawa was basically sitting on your lap but you didnt mind.
'You're in the way, stupid trashcan.'
It was written in beautiful cursive. You smiled and tried not to laugh but couldn't help it. Oikawa watched as the love of his life laughed at the first words he ever said to him.
"I said that when we first met! Did you really get it tattooed on your chest?" Oikawa rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Its illegal to get a tattoo when your twelve." You tilted your head slightly. "Then how did you get it?" He looked at you unamused before becoming nervous. This made you nervous too as he laid the both of you down in your bed.
"(Y/n)... Did you study soulmates?" You nodded and asked why. "Theres a chapter about two soulmates having different ways of finding eachother." You nodded again and tried to process the information but he spoke again. "Mine was the first words they say to you are tattooed somewhere on your body."
You looked at him and fully processed everything. It clicked. "Is that why you... Did all this stuff for me over the last year? W-why didn't you say something sooner?" He glanced out the window and seemed nervous again. "Theres a chance that you can actually have a different soulmate than me..." You furrowed your brows and sat up to look at him.
He didnt look at you and just glanced out the window. "What do you mean by that?" He looked over to you and directly in your eyes. "When we both have different ways of meeting our soulmate, theres a chance that you could have a different soulmate even though you're mine."
"That means when we wake up tomorrow... I wouldn't be hugging you, but your soulmate... And... I dont want that."
Oikawa looked away and you just looked at him shocked. "You're so weird out of character." You said leaning down and pulling him into a hug, laying on top of him in the process. "I'm being serious y'know..." You nod and nuzzle your face into his neck.
"I know. I dont want something like that to happen either." He shifted so that he could look at you properly and cupped your face. His eyes held clear care and adoration.
"Let's sleep now, and if I dont wake up to you tomorrow... I'll find you ok?"
--- 2552 Not proof read too well
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Kiss Me
Charlie Gillespie x Reader
Title: Kiss Me
Words: 1593
Summary: Charlie’s back from Hawaii and providing social media with all the content.
Requested: No. I had to write this after that video of Charlie singing in the bath tub…
TW: Implications of sexual intercourse, mostly the reader getting frustrated by Charlie being Charlie.
Author’s notes: I just wanted to write a bit of domesticity between Charlie and the reader, and thanks to all the content we got from him the other day, this kinda just fell into place. I hope you like it. - also, a little shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ because she’s been giving us some AMAZING fic content, and she isn’t feeling to great today. I hope this helps a little, Nele.
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Three weeks without being able to see Charlie in the flesh had been hard. Yeah, he’d posted photos and videos while he’d been away in Hawaii with his castmates and Kenny, but it wasn’t the same. Neither were the intimate FaceTime calls the two of you shared pretty much daily. Nothing beat being able to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to smell the scent that was intrinsically him. Yeah, you’d missed him like crazy.
Checking your watch, again, before checking the arrivals board you leaned up against the wall behind you waiting for his flight to disembark the plane and make their way through to the arrivals lounge. You scrolled through your Instagram feed, checking out what people had been tagging your boyfriend in, amazed by the talent of his fans. More than anything, you wanted to share them, but as no one knew about you, you couldn’t. It was a good thing you ran a semi-popular fan account that you could do it all from, and your story was full of amazing artwork and song covers. As far as your followers knew, you were just another fangirl.
You were so engrossed in the pictures on the screen in front of you, you didn’t hear Charlie approaching you, didn’t know he was right in front of you until grabbed you by the waist, making you squeal in shock and almost drop your phone.
“Oh my God, Charlie. You scared me.” You laughed, flinging your arms around his neck, breathing him in. 
“I would say I’m sorry, but my mom taught me that lying makes my nose grow and my tongue fall out. And I don’t think you’d want that.” He teased after placing a quick kiss on your lips.
“Well, no. But it would be quieter around the apartment.” Your response made him pull away and pout. “What? Am I lying?”
“I thought you loved me.” If he hadn’t been grinning like the loveable idiot he was, you would have believed his offended tone of voice was real.
“Oh, you know I adore you. Shall we go home?” as you slide your phone into your pocket, you take hold of his hand and lead him out to the parking lot where his car is parked. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”
“You, please.” You know he’s not the most confident of flyers, so you understand his need to chill for a while before he’s at full Gillespie – a term you coined not long after the two of you met and he was his usual ‘constant overdrive’ self. He was always moving, doing something with his hands, or exploring. Charlie Gillespie didn’t do bored or sitting still very well.
Once you’re back at the apartment you share Charlie sets about unpacking his case, dumping his clothes in the washer straight away. It always strikes you how domestic he is. You’re not the best at remembering to do stuff, but he always manages to catch what you miss.
“Have you got to go to work?” he asks you as he leans up against the counter while you prepare some food for the two of you. You work at a TV studio, but the show you work on is on a break so your hours are more flexible than they would be normally.
“No, I’m all yours for a couple of days.” Your words make him grin before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.
Your kiss had led to more of an intimate reunion which led you both to your bedroom for most of the day. By the time you emerged, it was almost dark outside and the food you’d been preparing needed to be tossed in the trash. You couldn’t complain though because you’d been able to show Charlie just how much you’d missed him.
___________________________
After the insanity that was Charlie’s delivery from and subsequent live with Madison’s dad, you now had a billboard poster partially unfolded in your bedroom. Naturally, because he was often a child in an adult’s body, Charlie had been like a kid at Christmas when he’d been allowed to open the box. Off camera, he’d been able to slide the parcel that had been included with your name on – Mr. Reyes had so kindly included a hoodie for you which you were now wearing while you stared at the space around you in horror.
“Charlie, babe. Did you have to open it in here? You heard what he said, it took up their entire back yard. Our bedroom is like a shoebox.”
“Yeah, I kinda got carried away. Sorry.” Leaning over, so he wouldn’t rip the poster, he planted a kiss on your lips.
“Well, don’t expect me to help you fold it back up.” With a grin, you turned on your heel and flounced out of the room to post screenshots from the live to your fan account. Only Charlie knew about it and had followed you early on. Eventually, after hearing him swearing and falling over, you went in and helped him fold the damn thing up. It took a ridiculous amount of time, but it was soon back in the box ready to be transported to Canada in Charlie’s car when the both of you went back for Christmas.
Exhausted, you flopped onto the couch and decided to order in some food rather than cook. But first, you took a sweaty selfie and sent it to Madison.
I love your dad, but please don’t let him send us anymore billboard posters. It took two hours to get it back in the damn box.
Her reply was instant.
Dad never expected him to unfold the thing. Love to you both. She wasn’t wrong. Only the man you adored would have ever done that, and live on the internet too. Shaking your head, you ordered pizza.
“Babe, I need a favor.” Charlie spoke as he tidied up the pizza boxes and soda cans from your dinner, making you groan. You were still exhausted, and now a little bloated. All you wanted to do was to slouch and watch a movie, curled up in Charlie’s arms.
“What?”
“Help me set up my phone in the bathroom.” That got your attention.
“Er… why?”
He scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish look on his beautiful face that was covered in the stubble you adored.
“I want to do a couple of videos.”
“And you have to do it now? Haven’t you done enough today?” you close your eyes as you lean your head on the back of the couch. You sense Charlie standing behind you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s looking down at you, the puppy dog eyes in force. Even upside down, he knows what they do to you. “I hate you, did you know that?” you tell him affectionately. With a grin, he bends over and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” With a chuckle, he runs his jaw along yours, knowing the roughness of his stubble is a huge turn on for you.
“Yes, yes you will.” You pull away and stand up. The sooner you get this done, the sooner the two of you can snuggle, and the sooner you can claim your owed favor.
Grabbing the car keys from the sideboard, you head down to the car to get the phone holder. You figure the suction cup works on the car’s windscreen, so should work on the glass screen. When you get back into the apartment, Charlie’s changed clothes and has his guitar in his hand.
“Remind me why you can’t do this from the couch?” you ask, walking into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you know Charlie’s going to regret his decision, but when he mumbles about acoustics you keep your mouth shut. Trying to change his mind when it’s made up is nigh on impossible.
You manage to secure the phone holder to the shower screen you’d cleaned that morning, pull it across the tub, and leave the small space.
“All ready for you, maestro.” You call out as you enter the lounge. Charlie stands up, kisses you and disappears into the bathroom. You fully plan on putting the TV on, choosing a random Hallmark Christmas movie to watch, and wait for him to finish, but when you hear his clear voice singing what he knows is one of your favorite Ed Sheeran songs, you can help but go and stand at the end of the tub and watch him morph from Charlie your doofus boyfriend to Charlie the star.
You watch him, with a smile on your face, as he records a video for his Instagram reel, messing it up a couple of times and having to restart a few times, making you laugh.
“If you can’t be quiet, you’re gonna have to leave.” He scolds you without any anger in his voice.
“I’ll behave. For now.” You wink at him as he starts to record again. Once he’s done, he says he wants to do one more, slightly longer for his Tiktok account.
“Last try, because my leg’s falling asleep.” He speaks into the camera once it’s recording.
I’m in love now
Kiss me like you wanna be loved
Wanna be loved, wanna be loved,
Wanna be loved, yeah
As he sings, he looks up, catching your eye and smiling. In that moment, you fall in love with him all over again.
.
.
.
.
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sluttyten · 4 years
Text
sweet like honey
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summary: the day you meet johnny suh and park seonghwa is the day your dreams become reality. fucking two super hot idols? who would say no to that. but the catch is that neither of them know about the other until the secret comes out, and the following competition is one that you never want to miss out on.
words: 13,338
tags: fuckbuddies, kinda dom/sub, possession kink, choking, spanking, kitty/daddy kink, oral (female and male receiving), threesome, jealousy, lots of smut, maybe a tiny bit of angst?, idk there’s some aftercare in there if you squint
pairing: johnny x reader, seonghwa x reader, johnny x reader x seonghwa
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When you got the opportunity to work closely with idols, this dream had clung insistently to you: meeting and falling in love with one of the dozens of gorgeous idols you were given contact with. At first, it hadn’t seemed likely. Not that the idols you worked with weren’t attractive or anything like that, but they were always busy, distracted, and focused. They didn’t have time to fall in love with you.
And then you met Johnny. 
NCT was massive and you were the lucky (or possibly unlucky depending on how things swung) staff member who would be taking care of the needs of not only NCT but several other groups who had their dressing rooms in that cluster. You had NCT, Ateez, Stray Kids. 
They had their own staffs, their managers and stuff, but you worked for the broadcast company and it was your responsibility to make sure that they were actually supposed to be where they were supposed to be at the right time in a good mood ready to go, all mic-ed up and everything.
And Johnny was something else. From the moment you walked through the door he caught your eye. He smiled and laughed, a larger than life personality, and as you were talking with them, going over some basic things, he was staring at you with such an intensity that you were almost uncomfortable, but also fairly turned on as well. 
The look in his eyes was something like hunger, like he could devour you whole, ravish you, ruin you.
You fled the room as soon as possible, feeling very warm, possibly a little sweaty. Your head spun and you pushed into the dressing room next door to give the same talk on basic things as you’d just done.
Immediately you collide with Ateez’s Seonghwa.
“Oh, are you okay?” He asks, catching you by the elbows as you bounce back off his chest. 
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” You straighten the headset you’re wearing just as someone begins speaking in a low buzzing voice for all of the staff to hear. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Seonghwa looks down at you, his eyes gentle on you, taking note of your flushed cheeks. His thumb almost absentmindedly strokes your elbow and your knees feel a little weak from that minimal touch.
He looks at you as if you’re the first girl he’s seen in a while. His gaze drops to your lips, and you have to snap yourself out of it before you let him draw you into doing something you’ll regret, his magnetism too strong for you to deny when he’s touching your arm and looking at you like that.
You look away and see that a few of the group’s staff members are looking at you and Seonghwa, so you pull away and move over to make your announcement.
Luckily, dealing with the other few groups you’ve got isn’t as difficult. There are no attractive members muddling your mind with their eyes or touch.
Things run smoothly that day and you think that’s that. You survived the day and now you’ve even got a little bit of something to feed your fantasies. You think you’ll be clear of dealing with them again, of having your mind fucked like that.
Just as you’re about to leave for the day, hanging up your headset and grabbing your bag, another member of the staff walks in.
“You heading home?” He asks, dropping off his headset as well. Then he looks toward the door, glances around, and looks back at you, and quickly whispers, “Earlier one of the idols gave me his info.”
“Oh, really? That’ll be fun!” You smile, thinking it’ll be nice for him to find a guy. He’s told you before that he’s rather picky about guys plus he’s not comfortable going out to places that are specifically gay. If he’s met a gay idol who’s interested in him, you’re excited for him.
He frowns for a moment, and then says, “No, not for me. No, he said he wanted you to have it. I told him it’s against the rules, but he just gave it to me in case you’d want it.”
He passes a little slip of paper over to you, folded up small. You look down at it, then back up at him. The doorway is still empty, everywhere around you still quiet, so you risk asking, “Whose is it?”
“NCT’s Johnny.” He bites his lip around a smile. “If he wants you, then you’d better go for it. Have you seen him? If I were you I wouldn’t miss out on that opportunity when it comes knocking.”
You know he’s right. Johnny had you feeling like a hot mess earlier when he was looking at you like that, and honestly you would love to have a fun fling with an idol as hot as Johnny. So you pocket the little slip of paper, tug on your coat and grab your bag, thank your coworker and tell him goodbye.
You’re so lost in your thoughts as you walk down the hallway toward the stairs, that you don’t pay attention as one of the dressing room doors opens and a figure starts to step out.
For the second time that day, you collide with someone.
For the second time that day, you collide with Seonghwa.
His arms fully wrap around you now, keeping you from crashing onto the floor.
“We meet again.” He smiles. “Sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention, but I was trying to hurry.”
“Shouldn’t you be gone by now?” You ask him, possibly a bit unkindly. 
He blinks. “Yeah, I forgot my phone though, so I came back. My manager is waiting in the van downstairs, so I was trying to hurry.” He helps you back firmly to your feet. “Sorry about running into you again. We need to stop meeting like this. Maybe next time we should plan to meet instead of just literally running into each other?”
He takes your hand and produces a pen from somewhere. The tip of it tickles against your skin as he writes on your hand, inking his info onto your skin, his breath a gentle warmth on your fingers. 
You look at the side of his face and wonder if maybe you’d somehow fallen into an alternate universe. Months and months of doing this job and you’d never had an idol look twice at you, but today you’ve had not only one idol give you some of his private information, but two idols have given you the means to contact them.
“Message me sometime,” Seonghwa says with a wink. 
And then he’s gone, jogging down the hallway to rejoin his manager in the van.
Later that night, once you’ve gotten home and showered and tucked yourself into bed, you stare at your palm and the piece of paper, your phone unlocked in your lap.
Maybe it’s wrong to do this, but you enter in both of their information, message them both. It’s not like anything that happens with either of them will be really serious, right? They’re both busy idols, they don’t have time for real romantic lives, just for the occasional hookups, and that’s something you can do. 
Sex. No strings attached. Totally non-exclusive to each other.
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You meet up with Johnny first. It’s only fair. He made his move first, messaged you back first, made it obvious that he wants you.
“Can you meet me now?” He messages you one day. 
It’s mid-morning. Normally you would be at work. You would think he’d be busy working or sleeping right now too. But you’re off work today, and you’ve got no plans because it’s a chilly autumn morning that made you not even hardly want to leave bed.
“Where?”
He sends you a location, and you only wait long enough to shower quickly and put on something nicer before you’re on your way.
Over the past few weeks since you first met him, you’ve been messaging almost every day. He made it obvious quickly that he was just looking for sex, and you accepted that just as quickly. Since then, you’d been talking about history, experience, likes and dislikes, kinks. There’d been plenty of dirty talk from him, featuring a sexy pic or two from you (he was hesitant to send nudes for obvious reasons, but had sent you a couple of selfies and even audio clips). 
So going to meet him, you were ready for it. 
You find it hard to believe that he actually invited you over to his dorm to fuck, but the building you arrive at definitely looks like an apartment building, and when you text him that you’ve arrived at the building, he sends you a floor and apartment number.
It’s then that you start to feel shy, to feel a bit nervous. 
But when you arrive at the door, rap your knuckles against it, it is Johnny who stands there when the door swings open.
“Hi,” He grins slowly, leaning against the door as he holds it open. “Come in.”
You can tell as soon as you step inside that this is definitely the dorm he shares with the other members. It just seems clean but still slightly messy. Definitely has the feel of young men inhabiting it. 
Johnny closes the door and explains, “Everyone’s gone today, and I figured if you weren’t busy, now would be the ideal time for us to make those messages come true.” He touches your waist and you turn to look up at him. Johnny still looks at you with such a hungry intensity. “I’ve been dying to touch you since I saw you blushing in that waiting room.”
Heat zips up your spine when he pulls you closer. Johnny leans in.
You let your bag slide from your shoulder, your coat slipping off in the same move, and you raise your hands to his shoulders just as Johnny’s hands move down to your thighs. He lifts you up, your arms circle his neck and your legs tighten around his hips, his hands firmly under your ass.
“Can I kiss you?” Johnny asks, his breath already on your lips. His eyelashes draw such fine, long lines down his cheeks, and you’re close enough to count every last one. 
You nod.
Johnny kisses sweet and softly, warmly and welcoming. 
He moves, sits you on the edge of the sofa’s back. His fingers fall to your clothes, unzipping or unbuttoning whatever needs to be undone. Your shirt falls apart, leaving you in only a bra. Johnny groans and wraps his arm around your waist, pulls you tighter as he kisses you deeper.
You can feel him growing hard against your thigh, and when you drop a hand down to run over his stomach, he jerks. You nip at his bottom lip, drag your fingers against the edge of his pants, pop undone the button and then dip your hand inside.
He’s just as big as you wanted to believe, hard and thick. 
Johnny had told you a few days before that it had been a while since he was able to do this. Months if not nearly a year since the last time he was able to have sex with someone.
Still, you don’t expect him to moan and buck into your touch. His hand on your back slips and you slide back a bit, almost falling away from him until his arm tightens again. 
“Johnny,” you murmur, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to just fuck. I’ve been wet since the moment you messaged me.”
You take his free hand and pull it down between your thighs, guide him to touch you through your panties, to feel how wet and needy you already are for him. 
“Okay, fuck.” Johnny backs off, pulling you with him until your feet are firm on the ground again. “Get on the sofa. I’m gonna grab a condom, don’t go anywhere.”
“As if I would.” You call as he moves quickly out of the room, disappearing down a hallway.
You move around onto the sofa, strip your pants off and fling your shirt to the side as well, so you’re just lying there in the cute lingerie you’d chosen. Just as you’re about to call his name and tell him to hurry, you hear your phone chime from the pocket of your pants, so you dig it out and look at the notification.
From Seonghwa: are you free tomorrow night? I don’t have any schedules, I was hoping we could run into each other?
To Seonghwa: Tell me where and when. I’ll be there ;)
You tuck your phone back into your pocket and lie back on the sofa, the cool air of the dorm pricking against your skin, your nipples peaking up the thin fabric of your bra.
You stare up at the ceiling, at the light dancing there, and you wonder about how you’re about to fuck Johnny, how you’re going to see Seonghwa tomorrow night hopefully to do the same. You wonder how it would be if Seonghwa was here now instead of just messaging you, would he touch you while you wait for Johnny, or would he sit there and watch you now and watch what’s about to happen?
Just imagining Seonghwa seeing you with Johnny, his handsome features set in focus at Johnny’s hands on your body, noticing the fine curves and the cling of your lingerie to your breasts before Johnny comes to peel it off you.
You feel flushed with heat, your hands drift to your chest and you can’t help touching, pinching and rolling a nipple between your fingers.
That’s when Johnny reenters the room, stripped down to his boxers, an unopened condom in his one hand, the other hand on his cock. 
“Don’t keep me waiting,” You beg him. You part your legs, Johnny quickly fills the space between them, falling over you until his lips can drag along the line of your throat, down between your breasts, to your navel and then the edge of your panties.
You want so badly for him to take them between his teeth and drag them off of you that way, to cover your pussy with his mouth and bring you to an orgasm on his tongue. But you feel his fingers fumble against your ass and then they’re wrapped around the waistband, tearing them down your legs and off.
You arch up into his touch, wanting him, and Johnny hushes you when you whine, and you watch as he pushes his boxers down and rolls the condom down his length. 
He teases. Presses close enough to let you feel him, he moves his tip against your clit, down over your opening, and back up. You whine and buck up, and Johnny just grins and places a hand on your hip, holding you down.
“Fuck me,” You beg him. “Don’t you want to feel how warm and wet and tight I am for you, Johnny? All for you, please.” You reach up, scratch your nails lightly down his chest. “I need you inside me. You’re so big, you’ll make me feel so full, you’ll fuck me so good, Johnny.”
“You sound like a whore.” He groans and at long last he pushes inside you. 
The feel is incredible. The stretch, a slight burn as it’s been a little while since you had someone who was quite as big as him. You let out a squeal, squeeze your legs up against his hips, reach for his shoulders.
“My little whore, right?” He pulls back just a bit so he can thrust in harder, deeper. “All mine?”
You bite your lip and whine.
Johnny puts a hand to your chin as your eyes start to slide away from his, he squeezes and makes you look up at him, and the dominance in something as simple as that touch sends a hot burst of heat through your gut. You clench around him. 
His gaze burns with that intensity, the hunger. The possessiveness. You want to be consumed by him, enveloped in the pleasure you know he can give you. 
“Johnny,” You moan, dig your fingernails into the back of his neck, attempt to bring his mouth down to yours. He resists, his eyes sweeping from yours to your lips, down to your chest, and then even lower to glimpse where he disappears inside you, as deep as he can go. You let out a low moan, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 
“This pussy belongs to me.” Johnny says, snapping his hips forward. “You’re all mine. Just mine.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, bite your lip. You don’t let the truth show through, can’t let him see just in case he’ll stop fucking you if he learns this isn’t an exclusive thing.
Again, the thought of Seonghwa comes back. You picture him sitting across the room in a chair, his ankle crossed over his thigh, arms folded as he watches Johnny lay his claim to you, watches you taking Johnny’s cock while you moan like his whore.
When Johnny’s lips crush against yours, you groan and your eyes open. You move your fingers into his hair, knotting there as he rocks into you, moaning into the kiss. His cock hits deep inside you, filling you every place. 
Johnny pulls away for a second, his breath panting against your lips, and for another moment his eyes lock on yours. He holds himself up on one elbow, the other hand he snakes down between your bodies, and he watches you closely when his fingers finally give your clit some attention.
He savors the way you whimper and hiss, squirm for him as he rolls his hips and stimulates that little sweet bundle of nerves. 
“You’re so cute, so pretty, baby.” Johnny kisses you once gently. “I want you to cum for me, and I want to hear you moan my name when you do.”
“Johnny,” You moan, grabbing for his wrist between your bodies. That doesn’t make him slow down, and you feel yourself racing toward your orgasms though you want to hold off. “Johnny,” you whine.
That knot in your belly grows tighter, his fingers on your clit, his cock filling you so well inside. 
You roll your head back, arching against him as shivers begin to wrack your body, and you can’t help the sweet, low moan of his name that pours from your lips. Your orgasm spills through you, squeezing and squirting around his cock, sending him into his own orgasm. Johnny pushes in deep, his hips jolting as he groans and fills the condom.
He sinks over you, holding himself up from crushing you with one arm, and when you nudge your chin forward, Johnny kisses you again, long and slow and sweet once again. 
He pulls out after a moment, leaving you feeling empty and needy, so you wrap your arms around his waist and tug, whine at him, “Don’t leave yet.” 
Johnny leaves only long enough to tie off the condom and bury it in the garbage bin in the kitchen, then he’s back, wrapping himself around you for a cuddle.
“Was that good?” He asks. You only have the energy to nod. “For me too. Sorry about the whole possessive bit, I know we’ve not talked about that or anything, but I’m definitely into that. Monogamy, I guess.”
You twist slightly and hide your face from him. He doesn’t have to know, you tell yourself.
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Seonghwa told you to meet him at his company building. “Wait outside for me. Around back.” His voice sounded tired, but when you suggested that, he denied it. 
So there you stood, waiting for him around the back, your arms wrapped around you in the chilly air. You wish you could wait inside or at least in the front of the building where the wind wasn’t hitting so bad, but once you’d arrived you understood why he told you to wait in the back. There was plenty of foot traffic, fans waiting out front. 
“The meeting is almost over and then I’ll be right out.” He texted. 
You leaned back against the wall, wondering where this was going. You knew that he wasn’t likely to take you back to his dorm. His members were all going to be present unlike Johnny’s. You wondered if he was going to suggest going back to yours (a possibility) or maybe a hotel or something. 
When the back door of the building opens, Seonghwa steps out. When he spots you, he grins and holds his hand out, glances back over his shoulder once, then tells you, “Come here.”
You do. 
“What are you doing?” You ask as he takes your hand and guides you inside. “Aren’t we going somewhere?”
“Just come with me, sweetheart. I’m trying to get you home with me without anyone paying too much attention.” His fingers lace through yours as he brings you deeper inside the building.
You look around, a bit nervous and even more confused. “What are you going to do? Stuff me in your bag? No offense, but I don’t think I’ll fit and we’ll definitely be caught.” You tug on his hand and Seonghwa turns around. “I thought when you asked me to meet you here, we’d be going somewhere.”
“Like on a date?” Seonghwa asks, lowering his voice as a woman walks out of a room nearby. “Sweetheart, I thought you didn’t want this to be more than sex. You made it sound like that.”
“Yeah, I know.” You look down at your feet. “But I’m hungry and thought we could at least grab a bite or something before we do whatever we’re going to do.” 
Seonghwa’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your face up toward him, and his thumb glides over your bottom lip. “Kitten, if you’re hungry I’ve got something that can fill you right up.”
Your mouth falls open slightly, and Seonghwa takes that moment to dip the tip of his thumb inside. Your legs feel weak, your insides liquefy, and you would happily jump on his dick right there in that open hallway, but he pulls away, shoves his hands into his pockets, and smiles the sweetest smile as another woman comes out of that room nearby.
As soon as she vanishes, he takes your hand again. 
“You’re coming with me. To the dorm. Half of the guys are going straight from here to the studio.” He reaches for your cheek, brushes his fingers sweetly over the heat of your blush. “San’s going to fuck his girl too, lucky for him she lives in the same building. Mingi and Yunho are going out somewhere. It’ll just be you and me for a while.”
Seonghwa guides you through the halls of the building until you’re just out of sight of the lobby. He reaches into the bag on his shoulder, pulls out a black hoodie, and hands it to you. “Put it on. Tug the hood up. When we leave, get in the front seat with my manager.”
You do as he says, though you’re sure you’re going to look a bit suspicious walking along with the group, with a hood pulled up as if you’re trying to hide your face. 
When the other members as well as a few staff members join the pair of you a moment later, you understand. A few of the guys, and some of the staff as well, are wearing matching hoodies to the one Seonghwa had just handed you, a few of them with their hoods up as well. You’ll blend in perfectly.
The few fans gathered outside start snapping pics the moment that the boys become visible and you hide yourself among the cluster of members and staff moving toward the exit, moving toward the van waiting outside. 
You don’t understand why there are fans waiting outside even here, but you assume that they’re the stalker fans you’ve heard about. The ones that follow idols everywhere, know everything about them, to a severely creepy extent.
You listen to Seonghwa’s instructions, following him to the van that he and three of the other members are getting in, and as you reach it, you open the front passenger door and slide inside. Their manager in the driver’s seat glances over at you in alarm, but Seonghwa pops his head between the front seats.
“She’s with me, hyung. Don’t mind her.”
The manager scowls, and looks as if he’s about to berate Seonghwa, but then he thinks better of it and settles for shaking his head and staring forward.
The ride from there to the dorm is quiet. You watch the city lights pass by outside the car windows, and you stay quiet when the guys start a livestream in the back, putting on their best faces for their Atinys, keeping them updated and entertained, though they bring the live to an end when they near the dorm.
Just as Seonghwa had told you, Mingi and Yunho disappear almost as soon as the manager’s put the van in park. They’re out and gone. San vanishes a moment later, walking away on his phone. The manager shakes his head and pulls out a cigarette, leans against the side of the van, and tells Seonghwa, “Use protection, I’m begging you.”
You feel very hot after that, but Seonghwa takes your hand and leads you away.
He kisses you the moment you’re inside the dorm, his hands moving to unzip the hoodie, peeling it from your shoulders, he tosses it aside, his hands on your waist as he backs with you across the room, navigating you without having to look, and you follow where he leads.
“Get on the bed,” He groans after a moment, gently pushing you away, but reaching for your chin to touch your lips again. “I want your pretty mouth so bad, kitten.”
You like when he calls you that, a curl of pleasure in your belly each time he says that little pet name to you. “Yes, sir.” You step away from him, moving toward the nearest bed, laying back on it, and Seonghwa stands before you, his thumbs tucked under the waistband of his pants.
You can see his bulge and your mouth waters for him. You shift onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed, facing Seonghwa, and he steps forward, pushing his pants down. Reaching for him, you pause, look up for approval, and when he nods, you shift a bit closer and drag down the elastic band of his underwear. 
His cock is just as beautiful as the rest of him, though not as thick as Johnny, he’s probably just as long, and again you find yourself wondering how you got so lucky as to have two amazingly hot idols wanting you.
Seonghwa puts a hand on the back of your head, lacing his fingers into your hair, and he urges your mouth forward, wanting to feel you on his cock. And you don’t want to let him down.
You start out with a kitten lick to the tip, holding the rest of him with your fingertips. When he rolls his head back and hums in satisfaction, stroking the back of your head, you do it again and then push forward taking his tip in your mouth. 
You push yourself further each time you go down on him, and the first time he finally loses his restraint and thrusts down your throat, gagging you around him, you jerk backwards, pulling off of him with a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick.
“So pretty,” he moans, “I want to ruin your lips, kitten. Bet you’d look so pretty with your face covered in my cum.” 
You’re sure you would, but you don’t want him to waste his cum all over your face. With your fingers still around his length, slowly massaging him, you lean forward again to mouth at his tip, not going much deeper, not because you mean to tease, but because you’re not a fan of being choked on cock by surprise.
Still, he rolls his hips forward, trying to get more from you. His tip leaks blurts of precum onto your tongue, and the taste of him has you hornier than you’ve been all day. You’re dripping in your panties, and you wish he would touch you.
Again, you find yourself fantasizing about your other lover when you’re with your current one. 
Would Johnny sit and watch or join in? As the elder of the two, would he take responsibility, dominating you, telling Seonghwa what to do, how to touch you, telling you how to please him? Or would Johnny passively sit by and admire the way that the younger has you sucking his cock, would he watch as you squirm in desperate need of being touched?
What if he touched you while you blew Seonghwa? If you had Seonghwa in front of you, Johnny behind you with his fingers so deep in your pussy that you could feel him in your belly?
You moan at the thought, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get any kind of friction for your needy core.
“Poor, kitty,” Seonghwa coos. “You’re getting nothing right now.” His hand goes to your shoulder, easing you back off of him. You sit back on your heels and look up at him. “Do you want Daddy to touch you?”
“Fuck, please.” You slip backwards, spread your knees apart. “Yeah, I want you to touch me.”
Seonghwa smirks so rude, his hand falls to your knee. “Oh, kitten. If you want something from me, you need to address me properly.” He sinks to his knees, hands on both of yours. “Call me Daddy, kitten, and I’ll give you a treat.”
You squirm on the bed, run your hands down your body to meet his hands. “Daddy, please, touch me.”
Seonghwa bites his lip and reaches up, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and gently draws them down your legs. “Sweetheart, I wanna taste you so bad. When you ran into me that first day, when I felt you against me so soft and warm, smelling so sweet like honey, all I wanted was to kiss you. It’s been ages since I got to hold a girl in my arms, to taste her kitty so sweetly.”
His hands squeeze your thighs and he jerks, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He lifts your legs onto his shoulders, and when he lowers his head to your belly, his lips brushing over your skin, his teeth catch the band of your panties and he drags them down with his teeth.
You shiver as the cool air of the dorm and the heat of Seonghwa’s breath touch your newly bared skin, your wet pussy. 
“Seonghwa-- Daddy,” You moan, lifting your hips with need.
He dives in, his hot tongue and lips lavishing between your legs, his tongue swirling around your clit, dipping inside you. He moans against you, his hands tight on your thighs and hips. You grip at the bedsheets, wrinkling them between your fingers, and it’s no time at all before Seonghwa brings you to an orgasm on his tongue.
The moment he pulls back, lips wet with saliva and your cum, he fills you with his fingers instead, his thumb against your clit.
You writhe and whine at the oversensitivity you’re feeling, but Seonghwa doesn’t let up, even as you roll onto your belly, his fingers curl inside you. 
“You’re so sweet, kitten. I could taste you again and not get tired.” You feel his breath on your ass, the brush of his lips, and then his teeth dig in, and you moan at the pain tinged with pleasure. His free hand comes up and spanks your bottom. “Do you want Daddy to fuck you? Your cunt is probably desperate to be filled. Do you want me?”
Of course you want him. 
You nod desperately, bury your face in the sheets when his fingers find that spot inside you that makes you see stars.
“Good girl.” He pulls back, leaving you empty and cold. “Ass up, sweetheart.” His hands jerk your hips up into the air, pussy bare and exposed for him. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh you’re so wet for him.
You look back over your shoulder and you see him ripping open a condom, you watch him put it on, rolling it down his cock. He’s probably just as long as Johnny, though not as thick around, and either way, you know he’s going to fuck you good.
Seonghwa pushes into you hard and fast, not at all gently, but exactly what you wanted. He grinds in deep, rolls his hips forward, a hand pressed flat to your tailbone. “Shit, kitten, you’re so tight for me.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You grind back against him, trying to get him somehow even deeper. You love the wet, slippery feel of him fucking you, thrusting in deep, his hips rolling, snapping against your ass. “Just for you.” You moan as his hand pushes you into a slightly different position, his dick hitting just right inside you.
Seonghwa moans, and you glance back over your shoulder to see him staring down at his hips jiggling your ass, his cock disappearing inside you, and he bites his lip, his sharp eyes focused.
His eyes lift to yours, and his next thrust slows, torturously slow as he rolls forward. And then he stops just short of filling you completely. He holds there, his eyes on yours. 
You can’t help clenching around him, grinding back, needing him deeper.
You want to feel so full, fuller than even Johnny had you feeling just the day before. “More,” You groan, pushing back and circling your hips on his cock. Seonghwa smirks and brings the flat of his palm down against your ass, and you quickly add, “Daddy, more.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Seonghwa digs the fingers of one hand into your hip, hard enough to bruise, and the other hand goes to your hair, twisting it around his fist and pulling so your back arches and the angle he’s hitting inside you has you squeezing around him with every thrust, sweeping bursts of hot tingling sensations through you.
You imagine again a scenario that brings Johnny into all of this, him standing on the bed before you, presenting his fat cock for you to take into your mouth while Seonghwa fucks you like this. As if Seonghwa has some inkling of what you imagine, his hand loosens his hold on your hair, moving his way around until his fingers touch your lips.
“Open up, kitten.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” You obediently open your mouth and Seonghwa’s fingers fill your mouth, giving you something to suck on as you imagine choking on Johnny’s cock, him being forced deeper in your throat with every one of Seonghwa’s thrusts. How great it would be to be caught between the two beautiful men, both of them inspiring a lust in you like you’ve never felt.
His fingers drag out of your mouth, over your lips, and you whine his name, taking the brutal force of his thrusts as his hand falls down your body, his wet fingers finding your clit, and your back rest against his chest. 
Your moans shiver through the room. Seonghwa’s hot breath is on your cheek, your ear as he says, “Are you gonna cum for me, kitten? I want to see you lose control. You’ve always been so reserved, professional at work, almost innocent in your messages.” His teeth graze your earlobe, his fingers pinch your clit, and he thrusts right against your G spot. “Cum, sweetheart.”
And you do.
Seonghwa doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking you, keeps rubbing your clit until you’re jolting in his arms, whining and crying, begging him to stop.
He lets you fall forward onto the bed, burying your face in the sheets as he keeps fucking you, and you do love the overstimulation, the slight pain of it that feels so good, all of your nerve endings burning. Seonghwa has both of his hands bruisingly gripping your hips, and his pace of thrusting into you is so intense, but still there’s a small part of you that doesn’t feel quite full.
If Johnny was here too you could have them both, have them filling you all the way. Both of them inside you cunt, fucking you with their big cocks.
Seonghwa swears behind you, his cock twitching deep in your belly. He does several of those rolling grinds of his hips forward, and you can only think of how well Johnny’s thrusts would compliment these moves. 
To have them both in you would be a magical miraculous thing. Separately they’re great. Together they would have you never able to leave their beds again.
A deep thrust has you moaning, breaking loose any filter you have, and the words spill out without a thought.
“Oh, Johnny,” You moan. 
The instant the name leaves your mouth you regret it. You bite your bottom lip, eyes going wide, and every movement goes still. 
Seonghwa’s hand slides up your back, and you prepare yourself for his fingers to twist in your hair, tug you back by your hair.
His hand curls around your throat. “What did you just say, kitten?”
“I’m sorry.” You moan again as his fingers flex on your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to moan another man’s name while I’m inside you?” Seonghwa slaps his other hand against your bottom. “You’re really a little slut, aren’t you? Are you fucking Johnny? Johnny who? From NCT?” You don’t say a thing, but your pulse betrays you, beating faster beneath his fingertips. “He always has seemed like a man whore. Every time I’ve seen him he’s flirting with everyone in sight. Does he fuck you good, kitten? Is he rough with you, man enough for you? He must not be if you’re here now in my bed.”
You moan.
“Bet he’s not got the big cock everyone thinks he does. If he can’t fuck you well, you’re always welcome to my cock, kitten. Do I make you feel better than he does?”
His fingers on your throat draw you back up against his chest. He grinds his cock into you even as you swivel your hips down on him. 
“Answer me, kitten.” His lips drag your cheek, his tongue too dangerous to have you feeling anything less than severely turned on. “Does Johnny fuck you as well as me?”
“No,” You moan, gasping as he releases his hold on your throat. “I’ve only fucked him once, Daddy. You’re both so good, big cocks that fill me so well. He wants me to be his, but I kept thinking about you when I was with him.”
Seonghwa swears, a quick and quiet barrage of fucks as he pulls out of you, his hands on your shoulders spinning you around, and you slide down so your face is level with his cock as he tears off the condom and jerks his hand over his length.
He cums over your face, hot strings of semen shooting over your cheeks, your open lips, your tongue. Seonghwa moans and swears and tells you that you look so pretty with your face covered in Daddy’s cum.
You lick your lips and slump down onto his bed, somehow finding a pillow in your arms, held against your chest as Seonghwa leaves the bed.
He returns an instant or two later, a cool damp cloth in his hand as he wipes at your face before he moves down between your legs. It feels so nice on your hot skin, and he leaves little kisses on your thighs, your bottom, and then he’s at your head again, his hands so gentle, his touch so light you barely feel his fingertips on your cheeks as he draws you in for another kiss.
“How do you feel, sweetheart? Good? Sore? Do you want to shower?” He asks, his voice soft. You shake your head and move a little closer to him, as close as you can be with this pillow in your arms. “Do you want to sleep?” You nod.
“Okay, sleep.” He kisses your forehead, barely more than a brush of his lips. “I’ll wake you when you need to leave.”
For now, you’re not even worried about that. You’re just floating in the feeling of sexual satisfaction.
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A few days later as you were curled up in bed, texting Johnny while you talked to Seonghwa on speaker, he brought it up.
“So how long have you been fucking around with Johnny?“ Seonghwa asks. 
You sigh, “Literally the day we started talking was the first day he and I started talking. I’ve only had sex with him once, same as you. I didn’t think I needed to tell either of you about it. I didn’t think either of you would want more than just sex.” 
Your phone buzzes with a message from Johnny. A pouty selfie that you can tell he’s sending you from a late practice. You send back your own of you in bed, just a thin strap of a camisole visible above the line of your blankets. 
“Does he want more from you?” Seonghwa’s voice drops, “Than just sex?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t really discussed it, honestly.” You roll over onto your stomach. “Why? Are you jealous? Do you hate the idea of sharing me?”
Seonghwa makes a noise. “You’re not mine, Y/N. I don’t own you or anything, you’re perfectly at liberty to fuck whoever you want. I was just wondering.” There’s silence for a moment in which Johnny texts back just one word: fuck. Then Seonghwa says, “Does he know about me?”
“No.” You answer, possibly too quickly. 
“Oh?”
Johnny sends you a follow up video of him dancing, his phone aimed at the long stretch of mirror in front of him so you can see him rolling his hips and biting his lip, playing up a fuckboy kind of vibe. 
“He’s not like you.” You say, replaying the video again, unable to help locking your eyes onto the bulge at the front of Johnny’s sweatpants. “He is jealous. He seems pretty possessive anyway, which is kinda hot in the moment, but I don’t know. I’m pretty sure if I told him I was seeing anyone else on the side he wouldn’t be too into that.”
“And you’d be upset to end things?” Seonghwa sighs.
“I don’t know,” You softly admit. “I think I’ve only fucked each of you once and both of you blew my mind. I don’t want to call it quits on either one of you right now because it’s too much fun.”
Seonghwa hums. “I think you’re underestimating--- overestimating? I don’t know-- I think you’ve got him wrong. I think he’s like me in more ways than you think, and if he learned you were fucking another guy he wouldn’t be as ready to let you go. You’re captivating, and Johnny has to know that. He won’t want to lose something like you.”
And you definitely don’t want to lose him. Watching the way his cock looks in his sweatpants in that video, all you can think about is him fucking you into your mattress, but it’s Seonghwa’s voice you’ve got in your ear.
You squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a deep breath. 
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The day that they’re both back at your studio, their schedules overlapping once again, you feel absolutely on edge. It’s been a few weeks since this all started. You’ve been talking to both of them almost every day. Johnny’s invited you to random places for quick fucks, and you’ve accepted a few times, and each time he leaves you more satisfied than the time before.
You always end up telling Seonghwa about these encounters, especially when you meet him in the back of a building or between parked cars to make out and maybe have him finger you against a car. You think he gets off on it, because he’ll have your lip between his teeth, his fingers inside you, and he’ll growl something about Johnny, telling you to recount your latest rendezvous with the older idol.
And after all these weeks, you still haven’t told Johnny that he’s not the only man in your bed. Things are still non-exclusive, so you certainly don’t feel obligated to tell him about it. 
But now they’re so near each other again, and you know they’re bound to see each other, so you try your best to steer clear of not only their dressing rooms but that area of the building all together.
Of course, fate would have it another way.
You’re in the cafeteria, grabbing something to eat when there’s a slight commotion and Johnny comes striding into the room, looking like a model. A few of his members are with him, but he doesn’t shy away from smiling and sending a wink your way. 
And then Seonghwa walks into the room right behind them. Yeosang is with him, talking about something, but Seonghwa’s focus is on you.
You flush with heat and try to hurry to finish eating, to get out of there before their paths cross, converging on you.
A few other idols are scattered around the room, so it’s not unusual to have the visiting idols in the cafeteria, but god you’re just itching to get out of there. 
Yuta slips away from Johnny’s side and sits down at a table where Pentagon’s Yuto sits. And then Seonghwa and Yeosang approach Johnny and Taeyong. 
Your heart stills in your chest as you see them greeting each other. Yeosang and Taeyong begin talking, and you watch closely the way that Seonghwa seems to be sizing up Johnny, looking him up and down, searching his face. Johnny’s smile falters ever-so-slightly, and his gaze flicks towards you for just a second.
You sink into your seat a bit, ignoring your coworker beside you who is in the midst of trying to say something to you. 
Seonghwa hasn’t even said a word to Johnny beyond “hello” but still you feel this odd energy that connects the three of you, a burning string that passes through the room binding you and Johnny and Seonghwa together. 
Seonghwa tugs up the hood of his white sweatshirt, tucks his hands into his pockets, and suddenly you can no longer see his face, can’t see if his lips move. You can only read Johnny’s face and his body language, see the simplest shifts of his body in the tight black t-shirt he wears.
Then suddenly, Johnny throws his head back and lets out that lovely laugh. Seonghwa is laughing too, and he turns slightly and catches your eye while he laughs with your other lover. You feel a burn in your gut, and you’ve never been less certain of the cause--arousal? jealousy? heart burn? nausea? You’re really not sure.
Taeyong and Yeosang have moved on, but Johnny and Seonghwa stand there talking to each other, looking too damn beautiful together for your sanity. Johnny is just a bit taller than Seonghwa, and you shiver in your seat imagining how it would feel to be pressed between them. You bite your lip absentmindedly.
Johnny’s in the middle of saying something to Seonghwa when he looks over at you again, catching you staring at him with such obvious lust. His words falter, and then Seonghwa’s looking as well. Both objects of your pure, unadulterated lust are looking at you.
You quickly look away, stand up, grab your food and move toward the exit, unable to handle being in the same room as the two of them any longer. And perhaps it really is best that you didn’t stick around to witness what happened in the moments that followed. You only learned of it later.
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You’d invited Johnny over once before, late at night when his practice ended and you were incredibly horny and Seonghwa was busy. Johnny had told you that there was nowhere you could meet, so you sent him your address and told him that either he would show up or you would have to take care of it yourself.
So he’d come over.
And now he had once again come over, this time uninvited though not unwelcome.
It was already relatively late when he knocked on your door. You were huddled up under a blanket on your sofa wearing an old threadbare tshirt and a pair of short shorts that you were planning to sleep in. You certainly weren’t dressed for guests, but as soon as you saw it was Johnny standing your door, you’d opened it wide.
Johnny came inside, immediately sweeping you into a kiss, his arms fast and strong around you, the press of his lips hot. You moaned and ran your hands over him, wanting more and more and more. Johnny was happy to give it to you.
He kicked the door shut, backing you into your apartment, swallowing your moans and pouring some of his own back into your mouth.
When he accidentally runs you into a piece of furniture, you yelp and break the kiss, but Johnny trails fiery kisses over your jaw, your neck. He licks and sucks at a spot just above your collarbone that makes your knees nearly give out and you feel a gush of arousal.
“Say you want me.” Johnny growls. His hands sweep down to your ass, gripping tight, massaging. “Tell me how much you want me.”
“God, I want you,” you moan. You let him lift you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. He always makes you feel so little, and you love it. “I want you so much.” You crush your mouth to his again, and this kiss feels like fire, burning through your veins.
Johnny doesn’t move farther than there, just holding you and kissing you, but then he pulls back slightly, presses just a slight kiss to your lips and then another as he sucks on your bottom lip to hear you whine for him.
“You want me?” He asks again once he’s released your lip. His voice is little more than a low rumble. You nod, your fingers at the back of his neck. You do want him so badly, your pussy is already throbbing in need of him. Johnny grins and hovers his mouth right above yours. “Are you sure you don’t want someone else instead? Park Seonghwa?”
You freeze. The fire burning inside you turns to ice. Johnny’s body suddenly feels stiff against yours, but he doesn’t let you down and you don’t try to move either.
“So he wasn’t fucking lying.” Johnny growls. “You’ve been fucking him too? Oh, baby, I thought your pretty pussy was all mine, but you’ve been sharing it with him? Even while you’ve been telling me that it belongs to me?”
You feel his jealousy, possessiveness. A feeling that’s not quite anger radiates off of him, and you can’t put your finger on what that feeling is.
“Johnny, I’m sorry.” You don’t mean it. You’re not sorry about a thing, but you know those are the best words you can offer him in the moment. 
Johnny shakes his head. “No, baby. see, Seonghwa had a lot of interesting things to tell me earlier after we saw you looking at us like a little bitch in heat right there in front of everyone. Which one of us were you thinking about then? Me?” Johnny’s fingers brush against the seam of your pants, right over your damp core. “Or him?”
You can’t help squirming against his touch, and your answer comes out as more of a squeak than anything else. “Both!”
“What?” Johnny dips his head and his lips brush your throat. “What was that?”
“Both of you,” You moan. “In the cafeteria I was thinking of both of you. Both of you inside me, around me, touching me. I want you both.”
Johnny hums, the vibrations move beautifully under your skin. “Right answer.” 
Suddenly you’re on your feet again and Johnny’s stepping back, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He nods toward your front door. “Now open the door. I’ve brought a present for you.”
Your hands shake slightly as you lift them to open the door. 
Seonghwa stands outside, huddled in his white hoodie, his hands buried in the pockets, his shoulders drawn up toward his ears. And even though he’s clearly cold, he still tries his best to give you one of those smiles that makes your heart skip a beat, and he says, “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Come inside.” You reach out, grabbing onto one of his sleeves and tugging. He stumbles through the doorway, and you immediately close and lock the door and then glom onto him. He’s freezing.
“Are you really gonna fuck us both?” He asks. His teeth only chatter a little bit, and you hate that he was standing out there in the cold while Johnny stoked your internal fire hotter and hotter in here. 
You frown a bit over at Johnny and look back at Seonghwa. “I didn’t say I was going to fuck either of you tonight, actually. You’ve both shown up here unannounced, uninvited.”
“But definitely wanted.” Johnny butts in. When you throw another frown his way, he lifts his hands in surrender. “Seonghwa suggested the idea of us together with you. He said you might be into it. After he coerced me into telling him that I thought you were hot and then that we’ve been together, then he admitted he’s been having sex with you too. I probably would have been a bit angrier, made more of a scene, if it wasn’t for my suspicions.”
You wait for him to explain.
“I knew I didn’t leave that many hickeys. I barely touched your ass, yet you had light bruises sometimes. Just small things that I brushed off, thinking maybe I just didn’t remember exactly right where I’d kissed you, how rough I’d been with you.” Johnny shakes his head. “But as soon as he said that, then it all made sense.”
“She likes a little bit of pain,” Seonghwa says then. His cold fingers slip under the edge of your sleeve, circling like a band of ice around your wrist. “Don’t you, kitten?”
You turn to him and bite your lip, struggle not to simper at the cool look in his eyes. 
“He told me that you’ve told him about us, about some of the things we’ve done. “ Johnny tutted and shook his head, taking a step closer to you and Seonghwa. “And he told me more, like the fantasies you’ve mentioned to him. And how hot he was sure you would find it if we fucked you together. Is he right about that?”
You nod. 
“Do you want us to take you to bed?” Seonghwa asks you. You don’t even care if they wait for the answer, but they do, so you nod. It’s Johnny who sweeps you into his arms, planting a firm kiss on your lips, and he leads you away, navigating through your home to the bedroom, as if he’s done this dozens of times before instead of just the once.
“How’s this going to work?” You ask as you step into your bedroom, Johnny kissing at your neck from behind, and Seonghwa steps around you to take a look at your room. “Like is one of you going to watch? Is one of you going to fuck me while the other gets a blowjob or something?”
“How do you want it, baby?” Johnny asks.
You whine, a bit unsure about how you want it. You’ve fantasized about it so many different ways, now that you’re presented with it in reality, you don’t know how to choose.
Seonghwa sits down on your bed, making himself quite comfortable. He spreads his legs and pats his thigh. “Come sit, kitten. Let Daddy help you.”
Johnny snorts, but says nothing as he releases you.
You come over to Seonghwa and he looks so comfortable on your bed, that you just want to have him hold you, to bury yourselves in your sheets. He looks so soft though you know he’s not usually so soft with you. But you just want to touch him.
It feel strange to settle down over him, to straddle his lap while Johnny stands behind you, his gaze so intent on the pair of you that you can feel it burning against your back where Seonghwa’s hands move to rest on your hips.
You twist your hands in the bottom of his hoodie, and whisper the plea, “Kiss me.”
“Anything for you,” He murmurs, and his lips are soft when they meet yours. The kiss doesn’t stay so soft and innocent for long, very quickly Seonghwa pushes forward, turning things steamy as his tongue meets yours and your hands dip beneath the edge of his hoodie. Your cool fingertips on his warm stomach, and he moans.
Seonghwa allows you to pull his hoodie up, exposing more and more of his stomach and chest. He chuckles when he pulls back to let you drag it over his head, and he shakes it loose of his shoulders, down his arms, and he throws it into a pile on your floor. 
You hungrily kiss him, your hands on his chest, his shoulders, delving into his hair, touching him everywhere while he kisses you senseless. Seonghwa’s hands fall to your thighs, and he squeezes, urging you to move on him. 
You moan and shift, rolling your hips forward, finding his cock bulging the front of his pants for you to grind against.
“Yeah, like that, kitten.” Seonghwa’s lips drift to your cheek, his hands keeping you moving against him in a steady rhythm and you’re not sure when the room got so hot, but suddenly you can feel the heat flickering like flames on the bareness of your arms and legs
“That’s enough,” Johnny growls, suddenly right behind you, and you open your eyes as he wraps his hands around Seonghwa’s wrists, forcing his hands away from your body. “I’m the oldest, I had her first. I call the shots, kid.”
Seonghwa glowers up at Johnny and shakes his hands away only to lean back, still staring up at the older man. “Make your move then, Suh. Show me how much better than me you are.”
You don’t know what expression Johnny sends back, but Seonghwa averts his gaze at last, dropping his attention down to your chest still hidden by your shirt, your nipples obvious through the thin material. An instant later, Johnny’s hands are on your tits, touching them through the material, and you lean your head back and let out a barely contained moan. 
Seonghwa watches, his gaze hot and judgmental, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he sees the way Johnny’s fingers have you pressing your chest into his touch, but still you roll your hips down against Seonghwa’s bulge. 
Johnny leans over you, his fingers under your chin to tilt your mouth up against his, and he kisses you slowly, opening your mouth gently and tasting you, teasing his tongue against yours until you’re begging him for more. His fingers curl in the fabric over your chest, and he murmurs a soft and quick sorry, then you hear a sound, feel a tug and a burst of cold. 
“Fuck, kitten, you’re so beautiful.” Seonghwa moans, his hands fly to your chest, now exposed as Johnny drops the shreds of your shirt.  Seonghwa twists your nipples sharply between his thumbs and forefingers, and the sound you make has both men latching onto you.
Johnny kisses you deeper, Seonghwa buries his face against your chest, kissing your breasts, your collarbones, the base of your throat and over your shoulders. He traces his tongue down between your breasts as Johnny rubs circles against your jaw with his thumb and works magic with his kiss.
You whine and buck your hips, begging into the kiss, “Please, please.” 
“Please what, baby?” Johnny asks. 
“Can I cum? Please make me cum?” You swivel your hips down on Seonghwa’s clothed cock. 
Johnny says, “Of course, baby” at the same time that Seonghwa says, “Absolutely fucking not, kitten.”
You want it so bad, and it’s hard to know what to do when you have both of them giving you contrasting answers. So you just sit still in Seonghwa’s lap and whine like a hopeless kitten for your Daddy. You reach for him, dragging your fingertips down his chest, his abs, down to the waistband of his pants, and when you start to dip your hand inside, Seonghwa jerks back.
“No.”
You shiver at the tone of his voice, so dominant and in control.
“What? You don’t want her to touch you?” Johnny asks. “What’s wrong with you? She gives great head. Don’t you, baby?” 
All you can do is nod for him.
“I know how good she is at giving head,” Seonghwa snarks back at Johnny. “She’s blown me plenty of times. I also know that she prefers when I give her head over you. She’s told me so. Says you eat pussy like a messy dog cleaning off a plate.”
Your eyes go wide. You can’t believe he just said that. Yeah, you had said something similar to that once, but only because Johnny had been really lazy about eating you out, clearly not into it then, and you’d ended up faking your orgasm just to get him to fuck you instead. But it was only once.
You twist in Seonghwa’s lap, reaching for Johnny’s waist. “Johnny, no. No, I didn’t say that. You’re great at eating me out.”
Seonghwa’s eye roll was nearly audible. The surprise slap of his hand against your ass was definitely audible; it rang through the room so loudly that you almost heard it before you felt it.
“She’s a liar, this little slut of ours.” Seonghwa tells Johnny. Then to you he says, “You know what happens to naughty, lying sluts, kitty?”
His hand is still warm on your bottom. Yes, you know what happens.
Johnny watches as you slide back off Seonghwa’s lap, standing beside the bed as Seonghwa repositions himself so he can bend you over his knee to spank you. The elder of the two watches in absolute silence as you bend over, your ass in the air.
“She’s good for me. Is she this good for you?” Seonghwa asks as he tugs your shorts down to your knees. He tuts when it’s revealed that you weren’t wearing any panties beneath. “Such a slut. It’s like she knew we were coming, dressed like this and without any panties, all clean and pretty for us.” He trails his fingers ever so lightly over your wet, bare pussy lips. “Johnny hyung, wouldn’t you agree?”
Johnny groans, and Seonghwa strokes between your legs again.
You wiggle and whine until his hand comes down on your ass again. 
“Stay still. Count for me, kitten. You know Daddy’s rules.” Seonghwa tenderly touches the warmth of your ass. He’s done this with you a few times now, slowly growing rougher and rougher with you after that first night, testing the limits he can take you to. So far, he has yet to find your limit.
You hear the faint whistle of his hand moving through the air. Feel the sharp burn as it shoots through your body. 
“One,” You sigh.
The sweeping burn of pleasure through your veins again, the origin his handprint on your bottom.
“Two.” You twist your head to the side, glancing back over your shoulder to see Johnny, his eyes slightly unfocused as he watches Seonghwa bring his hand down again. “Three!” You moan this time. Johnny licks his lips, shifts a bit, and when Seonghwa’s hand comes down a fourth time, when you feel yourself beginning to drip with wetness, Johnny’s hand falls to his cock.
By the time Seonghwa reaches ten, you feel breathless, so turned on that you struggle to not grind your clit forward against his thigh. Johnny’s openly touching himself, his dick the first to make an appearance this evening as he runs his hand over his length, making slow work of it.
You’re absolutely dripping when Seonghwa dips his fingers between your thighs, tracing the pads of his fingers ever so lightly, yet they come away soaked, glistening wet.
“I think she’s ready.” He says, looking up at Johnny. His gaze flicks briefly down to Johnny’s hand jerking himself off, then he looks to his face again. “Do you want me to show you how to truly eat her out?”
You bury your face, whining with need. You just want to be touched, to be allowed to cum, to be completely and totally taken apart by one or both of these two men that you’ve found yourself in bed with on multiple occasions.
Seonghwa lets you up, and you stand on shaky legs, your ass burning as he lightly pushes you toward Johnny. “Make your choice, sweetheart. His cock or my tongue?”
“Can’t I have both?” You reach out both hands, one coming up against Johnny’s wrist, the other brushing Seonghwa’s cheek. “I want both of you. I thought that was the purpose of this evening? I want your tongue, daddy. You’re so good with it, it drives me wild. But Johnny, fuck, your cock feels so good inside me. You’re so big and thick, it’s like absolutely nothing else I’ve ever had. You both make me cum so good, so hard. I want you to be rough, fuck me, use me, ruin me. Are there any options for that?”
Seonghwa licks his lips, his tongue dancing lewdly for a moment, and then he grins, “I think there could be an option for that.” He looks past you to Johnny. “I want to have her sit on my face. You can fuck her pretty mouth like you were so eager to do.”
Johnny bares his teeth and says, “You might dominate her, boss her around when it’s just the two of you, but I’m not your submissive or even your equal, kid.” He slips San arm around your waist, drawing your body back against his, and you feel his hard erection against your back, the wet tip leaking against your skin. “Baby, you want your pussy filled, don’t you. And no one fills you better than me, right?”
You moan, twist your head to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut. You won’t admit to anything, and you can’t look them in the eyes even if it is true, even if you were saying it just moments ago.
“Her wet, dripping cunt is mine.” Johnny slides a hand down your belly, over your mound, slips two fingers between your lips down there to tease at your clit then dip back further and inserts them right inside you.
You moan, your knees almost buckle, but his arm around your waist keeps you from falling.
Johnny pumps his fingers slowly, his head bent low to press his lips to your ear. “Look at him. I want you to look at him watching me touch you. I should fuck you raw, baby. Leave you dripping my cum, ruined, laid out for him but still all mine. Would you like that?” Johnny’s teeth scrape lightly over your shoulder.
You shiver, tracing your hands down and over your body. One hand you move down to hold at his wrist, to feel his forearm flexing as he fucks you slowly on his fingers. The other hand comes up to your chest and you touch your breasts.
Seonghwa rises a moment later, unable to stand it any longer. But he doesn’t remain on his feet for long, dropping to his knees before you, he drags Johnny’s hand away, leaving your pussy hungry for his fingers, but Seonghwa just stares up at you as he sinks in, flicking his tongue against your clit. 
It takes you another moment to realize it’s not actually you he’s staring at but Johnny, his challenge evident in his eyes.
Johnny’s cock twitches against you, and he groans. “I said she’s mine.”
Seonghwa hums against your lips down there, making your insides twist into a knot, and your grasp at his hands situated on your hips. He smirks and leans back just a bit. “I don’t know about that. She’s pretty weak for me. Maybe she’s actually been mine all along.”
You feel hot, both of them put their hands on you as they argue, both laying a claim to you, and you love the possessiveness. You want to feel their teeth on your skin, their cocks both pushing into you, jealousy leaving you a ruined mess of cum and sweat and so much pleasure when it’s over.
Johnny drags a finger up your spine, causing you to shiver intensely, but then Seonghwa’s warm mouth is back on you, his lips sucking around your clit. You feel your eyes rolling back, and you lean back against Johnny with Seonghwa’s hands still holding tight to your hips. 
“Daddy!” You roll your hips down against Seonghwa’s face.
“Pretty baby girl,” Johnny hums, kissing your temple. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”
His voice is so low that Seonghwa probably can’t hear it. You can barely hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, but you bite back another moan and nod. 
When one of his fingers presses down between your cheeks, venturing toward your pussy, you roll your hips again, and a moan breaks through your lips. “Johnny, please.” You close your eyes, almost whining.
There’s a sharp pinch on your thigh and then a hand moves up your body, easily reaching your throat. Seonghwa.
“Gonna moan his fucking name when it’s my tongue making you feel so good?” He asks, his fingers tightening so sweetly around your throat. You try to swallow but under the pressure of his palm it’s tight. His thumb presses in and you feel the waning. “Moan for me, kitten. Come on.”
“Daddy!” Your voice is barely more than a croak, but it satisfies Seonghwa. Until you moan Johnny’s name half a second later as he stuffs you with his cock, filling your pussy up in one deep thrust while Seonghwa was distracted.
It feels so good to have him use you so roughly, fucking you from behind while Seonghwa chokes you.
A fucked-out smile starts to work its way onto your lips.
Johnny moves fast, hard, and deep, guiding your hips back to meet his thrusts. Seonghwa licks at your clit again, his hot lips kissing over your hips and inner thighs, but when his mouth is back on you, when each of Johnny’s thrusts pushes you forward against Seonghwa’s hot tongue, your body feels overheated, tingles swirling in your belly until one good thrust, one sweet suck from Seonghwa unleash it all.
“Oh god, yeah, Daddy! Johnny!” You cry out, one hand flying to Seonghwa’s hair, the other curling around the back of Johnny’s neck as they both carry you through your orgasm.
They both slow, but neither of them stop.
Seonghwa lets his fingers take over from his tongue as he stands. He catches your chin between his fingers and holds your gaze as he licks his lips in the most over-the-top sexy way. His gaze slides from yours to Johnny, and you gasp in surprise when Seonghwa jerks you away from Johnny, spinning you around and pressing your back down against your bed.
He covers you with his body, and you pull him closer, just wanting to feel full, not caring which one of them it is. Seonghwa slides in quickly to feel how wet you are, and you’re instantly clenching around him, nearing a second orgasm from this constant stimulation you’ve been experiencing. He slides his hands up your thighs, pushes them up toward your chest, letting him reach even deeper inside you.
The mattress shifts, and there’s Johnny’s kneeling beside your face. His big dick is right there, still glistening with your wetness. It takes no prompting from him to have you leaning up on your elbows to take him in your mouth.
You sink into the feeling of being stuffed on both ends, the rhythm of sex, rocking motions. The pleasure swells inside you, taking over completely, swallowing you down into the depths of it until you’re drowning in the headspace.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when Johnny hits the back of your throat, when Seonghwa fills you so deeply you can feel him in your gut. Johnny rocks his hips against your face and you just take it all, gagging and choking, dripping saliva and tears and sweat and your wetness. 
“This--” Johnny groans, pulling out for a second to tease the head of his dick against your tongue before you swallow him down again, too hungry for it to let him go for long. He clears his throat and tries again, “This is so good. Better even.”
Seonghwa moans and he reaches for one of your breasts. “You normally feel absolutely heavenly, kitten. But, shit, Suh, you’re right. She’s so wet, so horny for the two of us. Taking us so well, sweetheart.” 
You moan in response, loving the praise. 
“What if we let a third guy fuck you too, someone else who we know would fuck you just as well as us.” Johnny groans, thrusting down your throat, his fingers tight in your hair. “He’d fill your pretty ass while Seonghwa fucks your pussy and you choke on my cock. She’d be so pretty with all her holes filled. Probably feel even better too, be more of a little slut for us. All ours.” 
“Fuck, yeah, she would be.” Seonghwa holds your thighs, his hips slapping against your skin. He groans, “You’d be so fucking tight, kitten. Filled with two cocks, so tight and warm. And imagine how full you’d feel, you always talk about wanting to feel full.”
You do. You so want to feel full. If you were at a point in life where you felt you could risk getting pregnant, if you felt you meant enough to either Johnny or Seonghwa that you would risk it, you would love to have them truly fill you.
Seonghwa’s hand comes down sharp against your thigh, making you moan around Johnny’s cock deep in your throat. His thrusts are growing slower, more intent less about prolonging the pleasure now and more about just getting there.
You squeeze your thighs at Seonghwa’s hips, suck along Johnny’s cock as you pull back only to have him fucking in deeper with his hand twisted in your locks. You roll your hips up trying to get Seonghwa there. You choke around Johnny’s cock.
When you close your eyes and all you’re left with is the pleasure, the sound of your heartbeat muffled in your ears, your pulse vibrating in every last cell of your being, the moans of your two lovers sounding like the sweetest song. 
Seonghwa moans deeply, pushing in as deep as he can, his fingers pinch your clit, pinch and roll one of your nipples, and another orgasm explodes inside you so intense that you don’t know how your body holds itself together. 
Rolling and drowning, caught in the ocean of them. Crashing waves against your body, and you just let them carry you, sweep you away, drown you and ruin you all at once.
You don’t know when Johnny leaves your mouth, only that suddenly you can suck in lungfuls of breath again.
“I’m gonna cum.” Seonghwa grunts, still rolling his hips, his cock in his hand now, and you struggle to sit up a bit. You reach for your tits, push them together, and give him a place to aim as he bites his lip and rolls his head back and bucks forward as he cums.
It’s so beautiful to see his pretty cock shooting cum on your chest. The way it leaks down his length has you wanting to lean forward and clean him up, but before you can, Johnny’s there, licking at your breasts, his hands gentle on your waist as he eases you back onto your back.
You curl your fingers against his neck, lifting your chest to his lips, moans spilling from your lips as easily as breathing. It’s second nature to part your thighs to make room for him, and Johnny takes his place. You’re so tired by now, your legs ache from the way that Seonghwa had you, but Johnny’s hands now move gently from your waist to your thighs, back up and down. 
He sucks hickeys on your chest, taking level slow thrusts, his breath hot where it touches the wet marks he’s left behind. You dig your nails into his shoulders, keen his name until Seonghwa’s lips cover yours, silencing you. 
Johnny goes entirely silent when he cums, pulling back just enough that you feel his cum bubbling hot against your clit, dripping down over your pussy but not inside you. 
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his hips. Johnny rests his head on your chest while Seonghwa kisses you breathless, slowing it down after a moment until the kiss is little more than just your lips resting against each others. 
The three of you stay like this for a while until Seonghwa’s breathing goes quite sleepy. Johnny pulls away from you, but he doesn’t stray far. He picks up the scraps of your shirt and wipes his cock and stomach, your thighs and in between your legs. 
Seonghwa groans and flops over onto his back, and Johnny kneels between his legs, still holding the shirt. He’s tender, maintaining eye contact with Seonghwa as he carefully runs the remains of your shirt over Seonghwa’s stomach and his cock. The younger of the two sucks in a breath, looking up at him, but he doesn’t say anything.
You sniffle and turn onto your side, reaching for a pillow to hold to your chest. 
Johnny looks at you.
“Baby, how do you feel?” He tosses aside the rag, sliding over to wrap you in his arms. “Was that good for you?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is a croak from the abuse your throat has suffered. “Very good.” 
Seonghwa touches your throat lightly with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was so good. I loved all of it.” You release the pillow in favor of curling up against him instead. “Trust me, Daddy. I can handle whatever the two of you want to do with me. Just be sweet with me afterwards and I’m all yours.”
Johnny snorts, fitting himself right behind you. His fingers ghost over your cheek, down your arm until he slots his fingers between yours. “You’re ours. Our sweet.” His lips press against the back of your shoulder. “Competing for your affection is futile, isn’t it? You’d rather have us both in turns?”
You nod. “Want you both. The day you both came into my life was the best day ever. Just wish I didn’t have to keep it a secret so I won’t lose my job.”
“Oh, sweetheart. You have us, why would you ever need a job?” Seonghwa says. “You be our sweet as honey girl, and we’ll be your sugar daddies.”
Well, now that would be a hard offer to turn down, you think as they both scatter more kisses on your cheeks and shoulders, showering you with affection as moonlight shines through the sheer curtains over your window, casting everything in a wonderful, perfect, and dreamy light.
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a/n: park seonghwa is an absolute menace, too sexy for his own good and is singlehandedly ruining my life and turning me into an atiny. I was talking with the fantastic and amazing @vernon-van-chwe​ about him and also about johnny because seonghwa currently has that whole cherry bomb era johnny look and it inspired this whole long mess of a piece of smut. it was definitely not supposed to be this long (which i say like every time i post something) but seriously, I was hoping to get it done that day and now it’s been like a week..... so yeah
anyway, i hope you enjoyed it. if there are any atinys reading this who are new to my blog! hi, nice to meet you I’m Bea an nctzen who really usually only writes for nct/wayv but I was truly inspired by the god park seonghwa. likes, reblogs, comments (through messages or tags or whatever way) are always and forever appreciated 😘😘😘
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Outside chapter 16: Therapy Sessions
And thus, we return to Outside! Starting with this brief interlude like chapter from someone completely new!
Update schedule is gonna be once every two weeks on Monday, just like before. As for Happy Times, that's gonna be on the back burner for a while so I can get this done, but I'll try and pop out another episode at some point.
So enjoy for now, and see ya;ll again later! :D
The puppet laid on the couch, flopped over like a discarded toy, eyes staring unblinking into space. If she didn't already know better, Trina would have assumed it was something one of her patients had left behind .
It, or rather she, wasn't a forgotten toy, however. She was her new patient, and, according to what another patient, Stacy, had told her, she had trust issues. But, she could work with that. And by that, she meant do paperwork until Scout was ready to talk.
Unfortunately, it seemed like that was taking a while. Before she knew it the whole hour had passed and the alarm had gone off. When Trina looked up from turning it off, the Puppet was gone, and the door was open. Ah well. She supposed she should prepare for her next patient, then.
------
Once again, Scout was laying on the couch. A different position this time, and staring in a different direction. Trina resigned herself to more paperwork again, like the last few visits. Though she felt like they were making some progress. Sometimes she looked up and Scout was in a different position, or she was in the middle of blinking.
In her mind, that was a good thing. It meant the Puppet was starting to get comfortable with her. Maybe soon, she'd actually start talking.
------
"Did you know Hosts can bleed without getting hurt?"
The question startled Trina, and she fumbled the pen onto her crossword book. "Excuse me?!"
"Yeah they do it naturally into the toilet! And into these weird giant soft band-aids that Stacy didn't want me to mess with." Scout reached down her shirt and pulled out a bright orange square. "Jokes on her, I took one anyways."
"Ah." It made sense, actually, that Scout would have no knowledge of the menstrual cycle. "And... did Stacy explain what they were for?"
"Nope! She just yelled a lot, and turned really red." She pulled the tape holding the wrapper closed off, then stuck it to the couch. "I asked Will why she wouldn't tell me, and he said it's because Stacy's a prude. And then she yelled at him."
"Did Will explain it to you?"
"No. Because he's also a prude. Stacy said so." There was a loud tearing sound as she slowly pulled the backing off of the pad, and Trina realized why Stacy had kicked her out of the bathroom. She also made a note to never let Scout into her bathroom.
And so, Trina spent the remaining forty-five minutes giving a sex-ed lesson to a living hand puppet. Not the weirdest session she'd ever had, of course, but it was certainly up there.
She just wished Scout hadn't stuck the pad to her keyboard.
------
The next few sessions were spent answering whatever questions Scout had that for whatever reason, she couldn't ask Stacy. Whether it was about biology("But why is it brown?"), a question about porn("I just don't see the appeal of watching Hosts fucking."), or about movies("He was the best character! Why the fuck would they kill the best character!"). Most of the time, Trina would google it with her. But sometimes she would ask why she couldn't ask Stacy. Usually she'd get one of what felt like stock answers, but occasionally she'd go really quiet and only say:
"I just wanted to know what you thought about it. That's all."
And Trina would, outwardly, accept that. But she always made note of which questions were related to that answer to try and understand her better. She also started on a timeline, to try and get the two into a session together. It probably wouldn't happen soon, she wanted to try and get Scout talking about herself first. But once she'd made some progress there, they could try a joint session.
------
It took another several weeks before Scout told her anything about herself. Although it wasn't what she expected.
"And then he gave me ice cream! And I ate it, because it was solid and delicious! But it fucking melts! And it's fucking gross!" She was raging, but in a way that almost made her look adorable. Not that Trina would tell her so, of course.
"And, why is it so bad that it melts?"
"Because it soaks in! Duh!" She looked thoroughly annoyed, and Trina felt a little bad for asking.
"What happened next?" She asked instead.
"Stacy and Will yelled at each other a lot, and then Stacy went to sleep on the couch. And then the next morning they locked themselves in the bedroom and wouldn't let me in while they made weird noises."
"Ah." Stacy had told her about that. It wasn't always the healthiest thing she could do, but Stacy genuinely thought it helped so Trina wasn't able to do much to dissuade her. "Did they come out at some point during the day?"
"Yeah, eventually! But it was boring as hell until then." A pause. "They banned me from Netflix, too, cause Stacy said what I was watching was a bad influence on me."
"Well that's too bad." She kept her tone sympathetic. "What else do you do during the day?"
"Watch TV."
"Besides that."
"Oh." Scout sat up, thinking. "Nothing- Well, I do hang out with Stacy a lot."
"Hmmm." Trina wrote that down in her notes. "Have you tried to find something other than TV? A hobby of some sort, or even a game to play?"
"I do play this game called Kirby sometimes." She admitted. "It's... kinda fun."
"Have you beaten it yet?"
"I mean... no..." She looked away, playing with the edge of her shirt.
"Maybe you should try and do that. Could be more fun than just watching Netflix all day." She kept her voice upbeat, and tried to figure out something else the Puppet could do besides TV.
"Maybe..." She looked around the room, eyes never stopping on one spot for too long.   Trina waited patiently, pen tapping lightly against her notebook. "... Something happened last night. Something... kinda bad."
"Oh?"
Scout nodded. "Sometimes, when Stacy wakes up and doesn't know where I am, she'll... take over my body. Not to do bad stuff though!" She was quick to assure when she Trina's face. "It's just to, y'know, see where I am. She gets worried when she can't find me."
Stacy had mentioned that. Apparently she now brought Scout everywhere with her, including to her programming job. "What made last night so different then."
"Well, normally I just sort of... float? I guess? When she does that. But, last night, I... woke up in her body."
Trina blinked. "Well, I suppose it makes sense that would happen-"
"No it fucking doesn't!" Scout shouted, cutting her off. "It's a bad thing! Very fucking bad!"
"Well, why do you say that?"
"Because it means that our fucked up link is evolving!" Scout told her in a 'duh' tone of voice. "Who knows how it could change from here!"
"Is it possible that you've always been able to do that, but just never did before now?" Trina asked.
That gave her pause, and seemed to calm her down a bit. "... I don't know. Maybe." She shrugged. "I... never really wanted to try before..."
Trina nodded, adding another note to her paper. "What happened next after you... woke up in Stacy's body."
"Well, we both flipped our shit, which woke Will up and then he flipped his shit. And then he and Stacy yelled for a while before he left and we managed to, uh, swap back." Scout scratched the side of her head, thinking. "And then Will came back with something, and he and Stacy fought some more."
"What did they fight about?"
"The thing Will brought back. It's some sort of a toy, like a psychic test." She scowled. "He made us sit there and do it, right then."
"The Waygetter one?" At Scout's confused look, she waved the question away. "Never mind. What were the results?"
------
"100 percent psychically linked." Stacy said, arms folded and stoic look on her face. "Not that I didn't already suspect, but I'd prefer a real test to a Waygetter "toy"."
"Of course you would, considering your past." Trina said, jotting down notes. "Did anything happen after that?"
The young woman shrugged. "Not a lot, mostly just went back to bed. I thought about banishing Will to the couch for his betrayal, but decided against it."
"Good." She nodded. "Banishing him over something so small, and when he was just trying to help, could lead to resentment building up later on."
"Yeah yeah." She kept her arms crossed, eyes trained on the floor. "Scout was pretty upset about it, though. But she's upset about a lot of stuff cause she feels guilty."
"Really now?" Trina jotted that down. "How do you know about that?"
"Psychic link." Stacy raised a single eyebrow. "Duh."
Trina sighed. "Has anything else happened lately? Made any friends at your job?"
"Not really." She shrugged. "This one woman, Chell, talks to me sometimes. She knows sign language, which is kinda cool I guess. But, I wouldn't say we're friends."
"Maybe you should focus on making friends with her. It seems like you two already have something in common already."
"Mm." Stacy looked away, tapping the fingers of her prosthetic against her flesh arm. It was pretty scary to look at, but it didn't stop her from wearing a spaghetti strap, leaving the limb on full display. Trina had also taken note of that, attributing it more to the woman's anti-social behavior than confidence or a strong body image.
"You can't rely on Will's friends forever, Stacy." She told her. "You need a life outside of him. It's not healthy to center everything around him."
"Easy not to lose everything if you don't have anything." She retorted. "I have Will, and I have Scout. They're all I need for now."
"What about your brother?" She looked away. "Or your father? Have you talked to either of them recently?" Silence was the answer, and Trina only sighed, used to it by now. "Your homework this week is to call your family for once. You need to repair your connections to them."
"I need to convince Scout to drop her guilt."
"That's my job." Trina gave a small smile that went ignored. "I'm serious about talking to your family though. Especially if you plan on getting into more... situations like this one. How would Danny feel if you died, and nobody would tell him anything about it?"
Stacy shrugged, and Trina sighed again. "Call your father. Text your brother. Make a new friend. Do one of these three things before our next appointment, okay?" She ordered as the timer dinged, signalling the end.
"Fine." The woman ground out, standing up and straightening her top. She accepted the offered prescription, then left the room. She stopped just briefly to grab her bag from Molly, the receptionist, and then went out to her truck. Scout popped out of the bag as she exited the building, and Trina sighed as she watched them.
They truly were an odd pair, and Trina hoped things worked out for them. She certainly couldn't imagine it could get any worse, anyways.
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ceealaina · 4 years
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Title: Hot for Teacher Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Teacher Ship: Stony, IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Humor Summary: Tony is the established physics teacher, Steve is the truly terrible new guidance counsellor. It's not quite love at first sight (but it's a pretty close thing). Word Count: 10,660
Tony drew in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers told you what now?” 
Miles grinned at him, like he knew he was raising his blood pressure with every word. “He said that he didn’t go to university. He actually dropped out of school when he was sixteen, and took a solo road trip across all of the US before he got his GED. Said it was the best decision he ever made.”
“Of course he did.” Tony fully dissociated for a moment, staring off into the distance before he shook his head with a full body shudder. “Well, regardless of what your esteemed guidance counselor may have told you, you should very, very, very strongly consider not doing… Any of that, and definitely going to university. And uh… Maybe come to me if you need help with those university applications, cause… Jesus fucking Christ.” 
In the back of the room Cassie and Kamala giggled. “Mr. Stark!” Cassie gasped, feigning shock. “You said a bad word!” 
Tony just scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate you all,” he informed them cheerfully.
*
By lunchtime, Tony was still seething over the fact that the new guidance counselor was advocating for dropping out of school. He had term projects to approve, but couldn’t focus on the proposals, fingers thrumming irritably against his desk. He lasted all of five minutes before he was getting up, marching down the hall to said guidance counselor’s office and knocking sharply on the open door. 
“Mr. Rogers? Could I—,” 
Tony cut himself off abruptly. 
The thing was, he hasn’t actually met Steve Rogers before. And while he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, it wasn’t someone built like a brick house — although, he’d heard that he was friends with Barnes, that was how he’d gotten the job, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. But their new guidance counselor was tall, blond, and all kinds of muscley, biceps flexing in a way too tight t-shirt as he bit into a ridiculously large sandwich. He’d jumped at Tony’s sudden arrival, turning big blue eyes up at him, and good god, that was one handsome man. 
Shaking his head, Tony forced a tight smile to his face. “Could I have a word?”
He nodded quickly, frantically trying to swallow down his enormous bite, and Tony worked very hard at not imagining what else he could stuff his mouth with. Mr. Rogers scrubbed a hand over the back of his mouth, wiping off some sauce that had spilled, and did an awkward, half stand. 
“Yes, yes of course,” he said, reaching his arm out. “Sorry, we haven’t met yet?” 
Despite how frustrated he was, Tony couldn’t help grinning; the man was an absolute mess. He moved forward to take his hand, feeling a little swirl of satisfaction at how obviously surprised he was at the strength in Tony’s grip. “Mr. Stark -- Tony.” 
“Oh yeah! Physics, right? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.” He moved to pull a stack of folders off a chair. “Please, sit down. What can I do for you?” 
Tony took the offered chair, leaning back against it comfortably as he eyed Steve for a long moment. “Steve, can I ask how long you’ve been a guidance counselor?” 
“Uhh.” Steve shifted a little. “Not long?” He gave a crooked smile that Tony did not find endearing. “About a week and a half?” 
“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” Tony sighed. “Steve, are you encouraging kids to drop out of high school?” 
“What?” Steve’s eyes went wide and horrified. “No! No, of course not! I…” His gaze shifted to something guilty. “Oh.” 
“Oh?”
Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “I may have mentioned something about my own… Choices... as a teenager.”
“Uh huh.” Tony gave him a ‘go on’ gesture.
“It was meant to be inspirational! They get so stressed! They’re trying to decide their entire lives when they’re only kids! So you know… I was trying to show them that not everyone has to follow the same path but also things can turn out completely differently from how you expected and it’s never too late to go back?” 
“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least you seem to genuinely care about the kids, I’ll give you that. But Steve, we’re just trying to get them as prepared for life as we can. You can’t give them ideas like that, and you especially can’t make them think things’ll work out all hunky dory if they do.” 
“Hunky dory?” Steve repeated before realizing that wasn’t really the point of what Tony was saying. “Right,” he said, looking properly chastised now. “Right, no, of course. That makes sense.” 
“Okay.” Tony was lingering now, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Great.” He got to his feet and headed for the door before he could make things weird. “It was nice meeting you, Steve.” 
*
Over the next couple weeks, Steve kept spotting Tony around the school. He tried not to ogle him like a creeper, but judging by the way Bucky laughed at him every time they ate lunch together, he wasn’t successful. He couldn’t help it. Tony had been like some kind of gorgeous whirlwind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering about him. 
And then, two weeks later, he was back with the same sharp knock and consternated expression. (Steve, thankfully, wasn’t stuffing his face this time.)
“Tony! What, uh… Something I can help you with? I’ve been doing everything by the book, I swear. No more epic road trip stories.” 
Tony drew in the deepest breath, like a complete drama queen. “Steve. I understand a book told you to do it, but the Chamber of Secrets this is not. Please stop telling my seniors that abstinence is the only truly effective birth control method. The ones in my AP Physics class are taking it as a personal challenge to design an IUD that works as a cum trebuchet."
Steve blinked at him for a very long minute, trying to work out if he was serious, trying not to-- 
He burst out laughing. Full on, hand-on-his-chest, eyes streaming, can’t breathe laughter. It was a solid three minutes before he began to calm down and when he finally stopped laughing, Tony was just watching him. He was doing his absolute best to look annoyed, but Steve could see the little hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. 
“That’s uh… Thank you,” Steve managed, tamping down on another burst of laughter. “I really needed that today.” 
“Yeah,” Tony told him dryly. “Glad I could help.”
Steve grinned back at him. “I’ll, uh. I’ll take that under consideration.” 
*
When Tony came in the next morning, his AP students were huddled in the back corner, all giggling in that terrifying way that only teenagers could manage. He was so not feeling it -- he was still waiting for that last coffee to kick in -- but he took a rejuvenating breath and asked the question anyway. 
“Okay, let’s hear it. Get it out of the way so we can get to sciencing. What’s so funny?” 
This set off another round of giggling, half the kids blushing, and none of them quite looking at him. It was, finally, Riri who spoke. 
“This morning Mr. Rogers told America Chavez that homosexual sex is also a 100% effective birth control method.” 
Tony stared blankly out the window for a long minute. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Okay, as thrilling as Mr. Rogers’ questionable sex ed is, let’s get started on some actual physics, hmm?” 
While the kids got settled for the class, Tony took a moment to collect himself. It was quite possible that Steve was kinda a total troll. 
It was quite possible that Tony kinda liked him. 
*
Of course something got back to a parent, who complained about the school promoting a homosexual agenda. Steve didn’t get in trouble, exactly, but it was brought up in the staff meeting.
The enormous jar of rainbow-coloured condoms showed up on Steve’s desk the next day. 
Tony had heard it through the student gossip line that, in addition to them being available for anyone to take as needed, he was getting students to guess how many there were in the jar, as some kind of ice breaker. If they were close, they got a mini Kit Kat bar. 
He made it half a day before he was stopping in to see for himself. 
Tony had prepared some semblance of an excuse for why he was there, some actual reason that the physics teacher might have had for engaging with the guidance counselor (again). But when he tapped on the door, Steve was looking up with a smile like he’d been expecting him. And then his gaze settled on the enormous jar of condoms, and Tony forgot to pretend to be there for anything else. 
“What the fuck?” He couldn’t help laughing, a little incredulous. “Okay Steve, they’re teenagers. How much actual sex do you think most of them are really having?” 
Steve shrugged unapologetically, but he had an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. “I just like to be prepared. Wouldn’t want to run out.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows arching. “Wanna guess all the flavors? None of the students have gotten close yet.” 
Tony’s eyes narrowed as he blinked at the jar. “They’re not even flavored.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s the joke,” he told him, like that was supposed to have been obvious. “Fine, since you’re so smart. Guess how many there are in the jar.” 
Tony glanced back over at the jar, wrinkling his nose for about half a second. “Seven hundred and fifty… eight,” he announced.
Steve blinked. “What?” 
“What?” 
Still leaning back in his chair, Steve stared at Tony, then stared at the jar, then stared back at Tony. Then he shot forward and grabbed the jar, upending the entire thing over his desk. Making eye contact with him, he picked up a handful and started tossing them back in the jar one at a time, counting them out loud as he went. Tony started laughing, the sound close to a giggle. 
“You’re not seriously going to count them all.” 
Steve gave him an imperious look. “Gotta see if you’re right. Now be quiet. You’re going to throw off my count.” 
Tony knew this was ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to make himself leave. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be encouraging Steve, but he stayed anyway, watching and laughing as he meticulously counted out each and every condom. 
He’d made it to 616 when Bucky appeared, looming in the doorway as he poked at his phone. “Hey Stevie, you ready to go for… Lunch?” He trailed off as he looked up and saw what the two of them were doing, his eyebrows going sky high. “Uh. I’ll come back. Looks like you two are gonna be awhile. I don’t know what this is annnnnnnnd I don’t think I want to.”
“It’s science, Bucky,” Steve told him snottily, not looking up from his condom count. 
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is not science.” 
“Of course it is!” 
“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m just gonna…” He pointed for the door, but neither of them even looked his way as he left again.
“It’s math, Steve, and it’s barely that,” Tony insisted. “This is... counting.”
Steve gave him a look like he was an absolute fool. “I may be a lowly guidance counsellor, but I still know what counting is, Tony. The science is figuring out whether you can actually calculate the number of condoms in the jar --,”
“I can.”
“-- Or if you were spouting shit to fuck with me.” 
“I wasn’t. And it’s still math, Steve. You’ve got the volume of the jar, and then size of the condom square. Math.” 
Steve stared at him for a long minute and then, without breaking eye contact, tossed another condom back into the jar. “Six hundred and eighteen.”
Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “That was six hundred and seventeen.” 
Steve ended up having to start over twice, and Tony was so busy laughing at him that he didn’t realize until 2:05 that he’d missed both his lunch and his free period and was, in fact, five minutes late for his AP Physics class. 
“Shit,” he yelped, hopping out of his seat. “Those kids don’t let anything go, I’ve gotta run.” He paused in the doorway just long enough to give Steve a smirk. “Let me know when you’ve proved me right!” 
The kids were all scattered around the room when he got there, Riri, Harley, and Kamala giggling over something on their phones, Cassie and Kate comparing notes on homework that was definitely not for physics, and Peter and Miles experimenting with something in the corner that may or may not have been explosive. Tony shook his head, feeling a headache coming on. 
“Okay, I’m sorry I’m late, unavoidable circumstances. Let’s get started, yeah?” 
“Mr. Stark!” Peter called, beaming at him. Nobody made any move to go to their seats. “If you’d taken seven more minutes, we’d be legally allowed to go home.” 
“That’s… Not even remotely true.” He shook his head and clapped his hands together. “Come on, children. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 
“Shouldn’t’ve been late then,” Harley snarked, but at least they were finally heading to their seats. 
It was halfway through class when there was a knock on the door, and Tony opened it to some blonde girl he vaguely recognized from Nat’s lit class. 
“Message for you from Mr. Rogers!” she chirped, heading off down the hall before he could ask further. His students were focused on their readings, and Tony took advantage of the moment to open the note, frowning as he tried to decipher the writing. 
758 exactly. There’s something wrong with you. Also, I owe you lunch. Thursday?
Tony sat at his desk, and managed to read it over five times before Kamala happened to look up and see him. 
“Hey, Mr. Stark? Why are you grinning like that?” 
*
As soon as his lunch period started on Thursday, Tony headed down to Steve’s office, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t been looking forward to this since he’d gotten Steve’s note. The door was open, waiting for him, and he headed inside and promptly yelped as a king-sized Kit Kat bar was launched at his head. 
“What the fuck?” He flailed as he tried to catch it, somehow managing not to drop it on the ground. He wasn’t particularly graceful about it, and Steve was openly laughing at him. “What was that for?” 
Steve shrugged, unconcerned. “The kids get a mini Kat Kat if they’re close in their guess. You were exactly right, so I figured you get extra chocolate.” 
Tony eyed him suspiciously and ignored the little delighted thrill in his stomach. “But you didn’t know how many condoms were in the jar.” 
“Okay, so I just gave everyone a mini Kit Kat. Sue me.” 
Tony just narrowed his eyes further. “So is this our lunch?” 
Steve actually snorted. “Do I look like I survive on giant chocolate bars?” he asked, immediately flexing his biceps and twitching a pec. Tony started laughing, couldn’t stop himself, and Steve looked immensely pleased with himself. “No, Tony. I got us sushi.” Tony felt his eyebrows creep up to his hairline, and Steve huffed. “Okay, what?” 
“Nothing!” Tony said quickly. “No, I just… You don’t strike me as a sushi guy.” 
Steve rolled his eyes. “And what kind of guy, exactly, do you think I am?” 
Tony shrugged as Steve passed him a container of sushi. “A giant, uncultured gym bro neanderthal who knows more about planking and protein shakes than he does guidance counselloring, but somehow got a job here anyway?”
“You’re such an asshole,” Steve muttered, but he was obviously fighting a smile. 
Tony shrugged. “It’s like you know me or something.” He laughed, knocking back a tuna roll. “How did you get this job?”
“Bucky. We’re old friends, and now he’s my roommate too. So when the job opened, he hooked me up.” 
“I mean, everyone knows that much. I meant why here? Why a guidance counsellor? No offense Steve, but you’re kinda terrible at it.” 
Steve didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Hey, I wanted to teach art, but the job was already filled and somehow administration thinks art and guidance counselling are interchangeable.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Living in Brooklyn ain’t cheap. Somewhere since high school it became trendy, I guess? It was this or baristaing at a coffee shop near my apartment, but their coffee smells like soap.”
"Yikes."
"Yikes, indeed. Anyway, enough about why I’m so terrible at my job.” Steve nodded at the chopsticks in Tony’s hand. “Eat your damn sushi, Tony. You don’t eat enough.”
Tony paused with another tuna roll halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, I don’t eat enough?”
“Every time you come in here it’s always over lunch. And then you usually stay through lunch and your prep period, and you don’t eat anything the entire time. You need to eat more.” 
“Okay, stalker.” Tony shifted a little uncomfortably. “What are you, my nonna? I eat fine.” He huffed and slunk down in his seat, pulling his sushi tray closer on the desk. Steve just blinked back at him placidly and then reached out, putting his hand over top of Tony’s. 
“It’s okay, Tony. I’m a guidance counsellor. You can talk to me.”
He said it in the same way that people on television crime procedurals tell the women they find in basements that they’re with the FBI, and Tony started laughing despite himself. And then he nearly choked on a California roll when Steve started passing him glossy pamphlets on healthy lifestyle choices. 
The next day Tony made a point of showing up for lunch with a huge gas station soda and an enormous bag of pretzel sticks. Steve didn’t stop grinning the entire time. 
*
Before either of them had realized it, it had turned into something of a routine. Not every day, but usually two or three times a week, Tony would forgo his lunch or prep period, or both, and come bother Steve instead. Steve had expressed concern once, that he wasn’t using his prep periods to, you know, prep, but Tony had assured him that being a genius came with some benefits. And really, his visits had quickly become the highlight of his day, and he had a feeling that Steve was enjoying them just as much, so he wasn’t going to worry about it too much.
Once Tony had gotten over his initial concerns about Steve’s guidance counselling methods, the two of them got along ridiculously well. Tony gave Steve shit constantly but it never failed to make him laugh, and he was just as good at giving it in kind. They bickered constantly, but it was friendly and easy and familiar. 
Tony had never made friends easily. He got along great with all his coworkers, but with the possible exception of Nat, they were more friendly acquaintances than full friends. When he was a kid, Jarvis had told him that he was just too smart, that the other kids would catch up to him eventually. But that hadn’t seemed to happen, even as an adult. He didn’t know if people were freaked out by his multiple degrees, or if it was the chaotic energy he gave off, or most likely, some conflagration of the above, but aside from a few close friends -- who, admittedly, he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world -- people didn’t really… Warm to him. 
Steve, though. Steve was different. Almost from the beginning Tony had felt a connection with him, and while he never failed to let Tony know how impressed he was by what he could do, he never seemed intimidated by him either. Tony would never say it to his face, but he kind of adored him. 
*
Tony popped his head into Steve’s office a few minutes before the end of the day, arching an eyebrow when he found him frowning over some a manual with stick figures doing what looked like some kind of sport -- soccer, probably. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t help smiling back when Steve looked up and positively beamed at him. 
“Getting a head start on your weekend reading there, Steve?” 
Steve blew out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Soccer,” he explained, confirming Tony’s suspicions. “Apparently, I’m the new coach of the girl’s soccer team.” He pouted a little. “Administration is really hard to say no to.” 
Tony considered this, taking a seat across from Steve and propping his feet up on the desk. “Why isn’t Clint doing it? It is kind of his job.” 
“He’s busy with archery finals, it seems.”
“Archery… Finals?” Tony repeated, blinking curiously. “We’re the only school with an archery team. They split into two and compete against each other.” 
Steve shrugged miserably, and Tony tossed a pen at his forehead to get him to smile. 
“Hey, come on, there are worse things you could be coaching. Those lacrosse kids are wild.” 
“Yeah…” Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “Except for two tiny little details. First, those girls are intimidating as fuck. They scare the shit outta me. And second? I… Don’t actually know anything about soccer.”
Tony snorted with laughter, before he realized Steve was serious and did his best to compose himself. “I’m sorry, how do you not know anything about soccer? You’re…” He gestured vaguely to indicate Steve’s general physique, and Steve sighed glumly. 
“Yeah, I think that was the administration’s thought too. But I grew up as a scrawny art student. I know baseball, and that’s it.” 
“Huh. The more you know.” 
Steve groaned. “So now I’ve got to learn all these soccer rules for tomorrow, none of which make any sense to me.” He frowned down at the manual. “And aren’t there linebackers and quarterbackers and shit?” 
Tony couldn’t help laughing then, not even trying to hide it. “Steve, that’s football.” 
“Yeah,” Steve replied, in his ‘duh, Tony,’ voice. “Which is soccer.” 
They were still arguing about the two different kinds of football when Steve realized that he had parking lot duty. Not one to admit defeat, Tony had tagged along with him. He was once again trying to explain why American football was called football (“but it doesn’t even make sense if they barely use their feet, Tony!”) when a bright, flashy convertible had pulled into the pick-up lane. Tony caught a glimpse of Steve’s confused frown before the car pulled forward enough that he could see the driver and he went stock still, grabbing at Steve’s arm.
“Honeybear?” he yelped, loud enough that a couple of the lingering students turned their way as well. Steve gave Tony a bewildered stare but Tony hardly noticed, his eyes focused on Rhodey, leaning up until he was practically out of his seat and waving his arm at him, looking delicious in a tight white t-shirt that pulled against his biceps. 
“Hey, Tones! Guess who’s back, baby!” 
Tony made a noise that a lesser man might have even called a squeal, but he felt exactly zero shame about it as he took off for the car. “Bye Steve, gotta go, see you Monday!” he hollered over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t bother with the door, hopping over the side and sliding into the passenger seat. Rhodey lingered just long enough for Tony to give him an enormous kiss on the cheek before the two of them sped off.
“Uh. Bye,” Steve told them empty space beside him.
*
“So,” Rhodey said, yelling a little to be heard as they sped down the freeway with the top down, wind whistling through the car. “Was that your big gay crush?” 
Tony choked on nothing, turning his head to face him so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. “My what?” he repeated. 
Rhodey looked over at him long enough to give him a stare. “Literally every conversation we’ve had in the past few weeks has been about him, Tones.” 
“That’s not the proper use of the word literally,” Tony grumbled, and Rhodey shrugged, letting it slide. 
Tony couldn’t though, milling it over in his head, and when they turned into the Italian restaurant in Bridgeport, he turned to Rhodey again. 
“Okay, no, so wait. Why do you think I have a crush on Steve?” 
“Tones…” Rhodey gave him a fond smile. “Come on, man, we’ve been friends for how many years now? I know what you look like when you’re crushing on someone. Even if apparently you don’t.” He gave him a pointed look, snorting when Tony just rolled his eyes at him. “You talk about him all the time. And sure, some of it is ‘complaining’ about how big and beefy he is, but a lot of it is how smart he is, and how funny, and how he’ll always call you on your shit… You don’t have to actually say the words, Tony. I can just tell.” 
Tony pouted at the dashboard, mulling this over. “You’re dumb,” he decided finally, ignoring Rhodey’s snickers as he climbed out of the car. “Hurry up, asshole. I’m starving. And I don’t have a crush on Steve!” 
“Alright, alright, fine,” Rhodey soothed, obviously not believing him in the slightest. “Whatever you say.” 
Tony shot him a glare and didn’t hold the door for him as he headed into the restaurant. After that was the usual flurry of activity when Anna spotted them from behind the cash and hollered at Roberto to come out from the kitchen so they could make their usual fuss over the two of them. He and Rhodey had found the place by accident on a Boston to New York road trip in college, and at this point they'd been coming back for fifteen years. 
With all the distractions, Tony was well into the garlic bread before another thought occurred to him. “Waiiiit,” he mumbled around a full mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Rhodey, who blinked back at him over his glass of wine. “Is that why you rented the flashy convertible? And why you used the pick-up lane? You never do that, you know it’s just supposed to be for students that time of day. Did you do that so Steve would see? Because you think I’m into him?” 
Rhodey shrugged, looking smug and pleased with himself. “I already know you’re emotionally stunted, but I figured if Steve hadn’t gotten off his ass and asked you out yet, maybe there was a chance he was just as bad.”
“Or, he could just be straight,” Tony pointed out which, he realized belatedly, wasn’t exactly a denial of his crush on Steve.
Rhodey just snorted. “No man could be totally straight around you, Tones. You’re a catch,” he informed him, just to see Tony try to not look all pleased and delighted. “Anyway, I figured -- assuming he’s not straight -- that it couldn’t hurt to give him something to be a little jealous of. And he was definitely gonna be jealous of me.” Rhodey lifted his arms, flexing them so his t-shirt once more strained against his t-shirt. “If you’re a catch, then I’m Moby Dick baby.” He beamed when Tony giggled into his salad. “You need me to be your big gay wingman? I’m 100% here for you, Tones.” 
Tony just shook his head, still laughing. “You’re such a dumbass,” he informed him.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” 
The weekend had been everything Tony hadn’t realized he needed, the two of them doing all their favourite things and generally leaving a wake of chaos wherever they went. Tony loved his life, felt very fulfilled by what he did and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But he always missed Rhodey like a limb when he wasn’t around, and having him back again, even temporarily, set something at ease in Tony’s chest.
The only problem, if he could really call it that, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhodey said about Steve. He hadn’t brought it up again, but that didn’t stop Tony from playing it over and over again, considering the previous conversations he’d had where Steve had been mentioned, with Rhodey, but with Pepper and Happy too. And, as an extension of that, how careful he was not to bring him up when he and Nat would sneak out for gelato over the lunch break, or how he didn’t join in when Bucky would start ragging on Steve in the staff room, all, “Jesus Rogers, you already look like you could stop a helicopter with your bare hands. Maybe give the gym a rest, huh?” (although Tony did have to hide his own smile at the teasing, and a couple times had caught Steve watching him with a look that one might have even described as pleased.)
And of course, thinking about all of that led to thinking about Steve himself. He was gorgeous, obviously, Tony would have to be blind not to be aware of that. But there was also how much he found himself looking forward to spending time with him, more than almost anyone else. He still hadn’t gotten tired of him, not really, not even when they argued, and he took special pride in finding ways to make Steve laugh. Steve could have been 5’2 and 96 pounds, and he would have enjoyed spending time with him just as much. 
By Sunday night, when Tony found himself lost in thought again, only to realize that he’d spent the last five minutes thinking about the very specific wrinkles Steve would get in his forehead whenever he smiled, Tony had to admit defeat. 
“Fuck,” he announced to his empty living room. “I’ve got a big gay crush on Steve Rogers.” 
To Tony’s credit, once he’d come to a conclusion, he wasn’t the type to sit back and wallow in it. Despite leaving him only an hour later, he grabbed his phone, dialing Rhodey’s number. 
“Hey Tones.” Rhodey answered on the third ring, sounding lazy and also like he was in the middle of eating something. “Miss me already?” 
“Always, honeybear,” Tony responded automatically. “But also, uh… So… You may not have been so crazy after all.” 
“About your big gay crush on the guidance counsellor?” Rhodey asked, because he knew Tony like nobody else. “Obviously.” 
“Shut up,” Tony whined. “You know how much I hate not knowing things.” He grinned at the warm huff of laughter that came down the line at that. “So how would you feel about… Still playing the big gay wingman?” 
“I’m listening…” 
“Our JROTC volunteer is out for the next few weeks, some kind of family thing, and I thought, you know… You can volunteer? Take his place for a bit? And then, you know, you and I can hang out like all the time while you’re on leave, and as an extra bonus, it might make Steve jealous.” 
“I mean, there’s a big difference between that, and picking you up at school in a shiny car,” Rhodey pointed out. “Sounds kinda complicated. I’d probably end up meeting him, even. You sure you don’t just want to… Tell him how you feel?”
Tony scoffed down the line. “I know you like to offer that advice for every situation, but I want you to know that the only reason that worked for you and Carol is because she thought your dumb drunk ass needed protecting. You triggered her alpha instinct, that’s all.” 
“If you say so,” Rhodey told him, but Tony could already tell he was going to say yes. “Fine. But I want you to know, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m only agreeing so I have a chance to bug you while you’re trying to work.” 
Tony beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”
*
Somewhere along the way, Steve’s (not-so) subtle ogling of Tony had turned into a full-on crush, and that had grown until Steve was pretty sure he was half in love with the man. He was doing his best to be cool about it, but he’d never met anyone quite like Tony Stark before. He found him constantly drifting into his thoughts, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn’t seem to stop daydreaming about them being more than friends, even when he tried to tell himself that Tony was probably straight.
Or at least, he had thought that Tony was straight, right up until Friday afternoon. 
Steve knew it was none of his business. He had his own life out of work, and so did Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy wondering who the hell the gorgeous man who picked Tony up from school on Friday had been, and what their relationship was. The sheer joy that had been in Tony’s voice when he’d called out to him had left Steve’s heart somewhere around his knees, made worse by the so obviously affectionate and familiar nickname. He hadn’t missed the enormous cheek kiss that Tony had given him either. And sure, a kiss on the cheek didn’t necessarily scream romantic relationship, and they could just as easily be friends. But there was an ugly part of Steve that kept rearing up, insisting that he would consider himself and Tony to be friends, and he had never gotten a kiss cheek. 
By Monday morning, Steve was practically itching to see Tony. Bucky, he knew, was totally sick of him after Steve had spent the entire weekend oscillating between moping and distraction, and refusing to tell him why. But the Home Ec room was right beside Tony’s classroom, so instead of going to his own office, Steve followed Bucky upstairs and then stood outside the doorway as Bucky made sure the cooking stations were prepped for the day, talking at him from the hallway. And the second he saw Tony making his way toward his classroom, looking sleepy and still a little out of it, he turned away entirely, not noticing that he was abandoning Bucky mid-sentence. 
“Hey Tony!” 
It went downhill from there. Tony made a strangled yelping noise, which Steve would have found adorable if not for the way everything he was holding scattered. His bag fell from his shoulder, flap opening and sending a cascade of pens and pencils and erasers flying across the floor. The cell phone he’d been texting on hit the ground with a thud that made Steve wince, and a tumbler went rolling off down the hall, leaving behind a dribbled trail of coffee leaking from the lid. 
“Oh shit,” Steve said, staring horrified at the mess for a minute before he moved to help, grabbing the tumbler as it started to roll past him and getting coffee all over his hand in the process. He ignored it, moving to help gather Tony’s other things. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay,” Tony reassured him, already bent over and picking things up. “I was just distracted. You startled me, is all.” 
“Still,” Steve insisted, and was about to explain further but he and Tony both reached for a pen at the same time, heads cracking together. “Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony clasped a hand to his forehead with a pained noise, cursing creatively under his breath. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” They both straightened up, and he offered Tony a rueful smile. “I was just gonna ask how your weekend was.” 
“Oh!” The pain on Tony’s face melted away entirely as he smiled soft and sweet and pleased in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d quite seen before. He tried to keep his own smile normal, but all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what a smile was supposed to feel like, or what he even normally did with his face or arms or hands. Tony didn’t seem to notice. “It was really, really great. I got to spend the entire weekend with my Rhodeybear. It was just what I needed. He’s like my other half, and I missed him like crazy. Hey!” His entire face lit up. “You should meet him sometime.” 
“Right.” Steve nodded as normally as he could. “Yeah, maybe. That would be… Great. I’m glad you had a nice time, Tony,” he added, at least managing to be genuine with that. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll catch you later?” He started to head for his office, and then realized he was still holding the travel mug. “Oh right, here.” 
He handed it over, taking a moment to suck away a stray drop of coffee that was sliding down the side of his index finger. Then Tony made a worrying wheezing noise and Steve stopped, staring at him. “Are you alright?” 
Tony nodded just a couple more times than Steve would have classified as normal. “Yup,” he said, suddenly mumbling and not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Just gotta…” He trailed off and darted into his classroom without any further explanation. 
“Okayyyy?” Steve said. 
*
Tony was acting weird, there was no doubt about it. Steve had assumed that after crashing into each other, they might meet for lunch as usual, but otherwise go about their day. Instead, Tony had popped into his office no less than four times that morning, every time on official business, but with fiddly little things that could have been passed along by a student messenger, or an email. But he’d also spotted Tony outside his office several other times, sometimes lingering outside his door absorbed in something on his phone, sometimes just walking down the hall just a little too casually to be entirely normal. Steve couldn’t think of another reason for him to be in this particular hallway, but Tony would look up from his phone like he hadn’t realized this was even where he was, and a couple of times Steve had glanced up just in time to see Tony’s eyes dart away like he’d been staring at him right before. The few times they’d made full eye contact and Steve had smiled at him, Tony’s return smile had been what Steve might have called shy, if it had been coming from anyone besides Tony. 
His first thought was that Tony had figured out about the crush (not an obsession, whatever Bucky said) Steve had on him, and was freaked out, and that’s what was making him act so weird. But when they met up for lunch everything seemed normal between them, and Tony certainly didn’t act like someone who was freaked out. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now that he was pretty sure if his feelings weren’t returned, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to let him know -- gently, and he’d probably be real sweet about it, but he wouldn’t let Steve drive himself crazy wondering, wouldn’t give him a chance to make a fool of himself over it. 
And then he thought it might have had something to do with his company over the weekend, this Rhodey guy that Steve was absolutely not jealous of, that he was the one that had Tony all twisted up in knots. Tony had sounded smitten with him, but then again, Tony was dramatic like that. It didn’t have to mean there was anything there. And that wouldn’t have explained why he was acting so weird around Steve, who didn’t even know the guy.  
Which led Steve to his next thought, the one that felt a little too fantastical to be true, even if the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. Because the little smiles, the almost blushes that Tony would have… What if Steve’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he had thought? Maybe Tony had a thing for him too, and that’s why he was acting all flustered and strange? Steve knew he was probably not the most unbiased opinion, that wanting it to be true was maybe skewing his perspective a little, making him see things a certain way. But if Tony didn’t suddenly hate him -- and he was positive that wasn’t the case -- was it so crazy to think that the little glances and smiles were a sign of something more?
He felt bolstered by the idea, unable to let it go once it was in his head. He’d never been one for letting things slide, and almost immediately he made up his mind to Talk To Tony, to maybe ask if he wanted to grab coffee after work, or a drink, and then he could tell him how he felt, see if he felt the same. 
His morning flew by, distracted by daydreams of what would come next. Steve had always been a visual thinker, and he could picture all too clearly the slow smile that would spread across Tony’s cheeks when he realized his feelings weren't unrequited, the way he’d duck his head and glance up through his eyelashes (a move that always drove Steve crazy). How drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to walking him home and -- since it was Steve’s daydream, dammit -- having Tony inviting him inside. What it would be like to finally get to kiss him, to feel his skin under his fingers with purpose, instead of just a glancing brush as they shared food or walked along beside each other?
He was still daydreaming about it when he walked into the gym right before lunchtime, intending to ask Clint another question about soccer, and stopped dead. 
He had been very, very wrong.
Tony was there, for some reason, but even more confusing was the fact that this Rhodey guy was with him. Not that the why of it really mattered, Steve supposed. Tony was practically hanging off the other man’s back, crooning into his ear. As Steve watched, he pressed a big sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek. “Come on, platypus,” he wheedled, delight evident in his voice. Rhodey was shaking his head and pretending to be annoyed but there was a fond, pleased smile on his face and his hand came up to hold on to Tony’s arm around his chest. 
Steve may have been accused of being hopelessly optimistic, but he wasn’t naive. Whatever had had Tony acting so weird before, it obviously wasn’t a crush on Steve.
Suddenly very much needing to be anywhere else, Steve turned to try and sneak back out of the gym and promptly tripped over a stray basketball. He couldn’t help cursing as he rolled his ankle, and then winced as the sound rang out through the mostly empty space. 
“Steve!” Tony looked startled at his sudden appearance, doing a weird little fidgety dance before he forced himself to still and gave him a bright smile. “Come here! You didn’t get to meet him last week, come meet my Rhodeybear!” 
Steve started to mumble out some excuse about paperwork or meetings, but almost instantly Tony was across the room, grabbing him by the arm and forcibly pulling him over to Rhodey, who was very obviously trying not to laugh. 
“Rhodey, this is Steve, our new guidance counselor. Steve, this is Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. I talked him into volunteering with the ROTC kids while he’s on leave for the next month.”
Steve managed a smile as Rhodey reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Hey man. Good to finally meet you. Tones talks about you all the time.” 
He glanced at Tony over Steve’s shoulder, and something on Tony’s face made him laugh. His eyes were sharp and perceptive and Steve felt a flare of panic because oh shit, he knew. Somehow this man had figured out that Steve had a crush on his boyfriend. And the worst part was that he didn’t seem angry. There was no threat in his handshake, his smile open and friendly.
“Uh, good to meet you too,” he managed, doing his best to smile back at him and not look like he was having a complete panic attack. 
There was something so effortlessly cool about Rhodey. He was, frankly, gorgeous, with his teasing smile and ridiculously well-fitting leather jacket to boot, but he seemed genuinely nice too. He could have been a total ass, throwing it in Steve’s face that he was with Tony, but there was nothing of that in his body language. Steve couldn’t help liking him immediately, and he usually had good instincts for these things. But he also couldn’t help being intimidated and more than a little jealous -- although, for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure of which one. It was definitely Rhodey; his ridiculous crush was on Tony, so of course Rhodey was the one he was jealous of. It was maybe also a little bit Tony because fuck, Rhodey was cool. 
Steve was barely aware of the conversation that followed, feeling his heart sink lower every time he caught a glimpse of the besotted smile on Tony’s face. They made small talk for a few minutes, and at least he was pretty sure that he hadn’t said anything too strange, even if he sort of felt like his own face was melting. There were vague plans made for the three of them to get together for drinks or something in the next few weeks (Steve had exactly zero intention of following through on that particular idea) and then he was finally able to make his escape. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he slipped his way down the hall and back to his own office, where he shut the door firmly behind him and slunk down in his desk chair, letting his head fall against the desk with a slight bang, whining into the empty space. 
After that, Steve backed off a little, not wanting to seem like he was encroaching on their relationship. He was crazy about Tony, but he wanted him to be happy, and the two of them seemed right together. And clearly Rhodey had a good effect on Tony, because after a few more days whatever seemed to be going on with him stopped too. The manic behaviour evened out as he went back to how they’d been before, if maybe slightly more awkward than they’d once been. They still met for lunch regularly, still got along stupidly well, goofing around and joking and making each other laugh. If their lunches were slightly less often than they’d once been, well, Steve supposed that made sense when Tony’s boyfriend was right there at the school with him. He should be glad he still got lunch with Tony at all. 
A few more weeks, and even that slight awkwardness had faded. They were warm and  familiar around each other again, their new normal somehow less and more than it had been before. Steve still had a thing for Tony, but now it felt settled into him, like it was just a part of who he was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought he might have settled right into being completely in love with Tony. But he could be normal around him, because that was just part of their friendship, loving Tony just a part of who he was now. He felt right being around Tony, even if there was sometimes a bittersweet ache, and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything. 
But every once in awhile, he’d catch Tony giving him a soft, sad smile that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see, a look on his face that Steve might have described as just a little disappointed, and he couldn’t help wondering. Maybe if Tony had been single, and maybe if Steve had been just a little less scared, they might have been able to have something more between them. 
*
Tony huffed out a sigh, having no idea what was going on in the movie he was watching with Rhodey. “Honeybear,” he said. “I think it’s time to admit defeat.” 
“Tony Stark? Giving up?” Rhodey rolled his head along the back of the couch, giving Tony a slightly tipsy grin. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” 
“Hilarious,” Tony told him dryly, grinning despite himself. “I’m serious. I don’t think Steve is into me. I thought he was jealous at first but…” He shrugged helplessly. “And we’re friends. Like, really good friends. He’s probably the person I trust most after you. I shouldn’t try to mess with that, right?” 
“I don’t think it’s messing with it, exactly,” Rhodey told him. “Starting a romantic relationship with him isn’t necessarily better or worse than being friends. It’s just... Different.” He obviously understood Tony’s point though. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?” 
Tony just shrugged again, a crooked, self-deprecating smile on his lips, and Rhodey rubbed his hand over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry man,” he told him, hauling Tony against him for a hug.
“It’s okay,” Tony mumbled into Rhodey’s neck, though his arms squeezed around his waist, holding on tight for a long minute. “Really. I love having him as a friend too, and I’ll get over the whole crush thing eventually. I’ll be okay. I always am.” 
Rhodey hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. “Still. Ice cream and bourbon in the meantime?” 
Tony managed a real smile then, though he didn’t let go of Rhodey right away. “Definitely.”
*
Steve sat alone in the restaurant, fighting a smile at the sympathetic looks he kept getting from the wait staff. He was meeting his friend Sharon for dinner after she’d been overseas for the last six months on a work contract. But Sharon was notoriously bad at personal appointments, so it was hit or miss whether she’d actually turn up or if she would cancel at the last minute again. Steve wasn’t really phased, used to it by now. 
He was occupying himself with games on his phone when he heard a familiar voice. He frowned at the screen, trying to place it before he looked up and made awkward eye contact with someone he’d rather avoid, and then realized it was Rhodey. Immediately he wondered if Tony was with him, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought, even though he’d just seen him a few hours ago. Looking around for them, he smiled when he spotted Rhodey’s familiar form first. And then his heart stopped beating completely for a moment. 
Rhodey wasn’t with Tony. 
There was a woman with him, tall and muscular with short blonde hair. She was just as gorgeous as Rhodey, the two of them an admittedly stunning pair. She was laughing too, not quite as loud, and there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at him. Then Rhodey’s hand came up, sliding across the table to tangle his fingers with hers, the movement familiar and intimate. He leaned forward, murmuring something soft that Steve couldn’t catch, and then she was pulling back with a wide smile. 
“Check please?” she hollered with absolutely no decorum, making Rhodey burst out laughing again. 
Steve ducked behind his menu, watching the two of them gather up their things. He didn’t particularly want to confront Rhodey here and now, just in case he was wrong, but fortunately (or not) they only seemed to have eyes for each other. Rhodey helped her with her jacket, making the woman snort and try to elbow him, and he kept his hand very low on her back, right on the edge of being inappropriate, as they walked to the door. Steve turned away as they walked right past the table, but he looked up in time to see them pause in the foyer, mostly out of sight, before the women fisted her hands in Rhodey’s shirt and pulled him for a slow, lingering, hungry kiss. Rhodey looked downright dazed when she’d pulled back, until she said something else to make him laugh and the two of them slipped out the front door. 
Steve stared at the space where they’d been for a long time after they’d gone. 
“Shit.” 
*
Sharon did end up cancelling on him, and with Bucky away on a bonding trip with some old army buddies, Steve was left alone to stew around the apartment all weekend. Normally he’d probably have gone to Tony for advice, but that obviously wasn’t an option here and Steve didn’t know what to do. 
He knew he should tell Tony; he’d want to know if it were him. But then there was the question of if he’d want Steve to be the one to tell him -- or, for that matter, if Steve wanted to be the one to tell him, which he definitely didn’t. If Tony had figured out about Steve’s crush on him, would he even believe him? He honestly didn’t know what he would do if Tony thought he was making it up to get between him and his boyfriend. He’d like to think Tony knew him better than that, but people could get weird about their significant others. 
By Monday morning, Steve still had no idea what he was going to do. He had barely slept all weekend and was tired and miserable, found himself taking the long way round to his office to avoid the chance of running into Tony in the staff room. 
“Wow, Rogers. You look terrible.” 
Lost in thought, Steve nearly jumped at the sound of Nat’s voice. He looked up to see her sitting in her classroom, grading papers and watching him with an amused look on her face. 
“Yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “I just didn’t sleep well.” 
Some of the amusement slid off her face and she arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay?” 
Steve shrugged. ”Just… Life,” he offered vaguely. Then he blinked at her, eyes going wide. “You can help me though! I… I need you to talk to Tony for me. It’s kind of a big thing. Please, Nat? I don’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m worried he’ll hate me if I tell him, or won’t believe me, or both. But it won’t seem so…  personal coming from you. Blunt honesty is your whole thing, right? Plus he’s more likely to believe you when he’s already half terrified of you anyway.”
Nat was back to looking amused, trying to follow Steve’s rambling. “And why is Tony half terrified of me?”
Steve winced. “Uh… There’s a rumor going around that you’re secretly a Russian sleeper agent?” 
“The Cold War ended in 1991,” she told him without missing a beat, voice eerily atonal. “Russia and America are allies now.” 
There was a moment of absolute silence before she cracked up and Steve glared at her.
“That. That is exactly why people are scared of you.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him airily, before relenting with a sigh. “Okay, so what is it that you need me to tell Tony?” 
“I… Rhodey’s cheating on him,” he blurted out all in a rush, before he could chicken out. “I saw him at dinner on Friday with this gorgeous woman, and they were very clearly together, kissing and everything, and I just… I don’t know how to tell him. 
Nat stared at him, blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. Steve frowned at her, taken aback, but as Natasha kept on laughing, to the point that there were actual tears coming from her eyes, Steve got more and more cranky. Folding his arms across his chest, his frown turned into a full on glare as he waited for her to get control of herself. 
“Are you done?” he asked when she finally stopped laughing what felt like five minutes later. “Cause I’d really like to know what’s so funny about all of this.” 
But Natasha just shook her head, still grinning. “Let me know when you figure it out, Steve.” 
*
By the end of the day, Steve had successfully managed to avoid Tony, and he was exhausted. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, and he didn’t particularly want to. He’d missed Tony today. Even on the days when they didn’t get to spend time together, there was always a smile and wave when they passed each other in the hall. This just felt weird. 
Going the long way again, he made his way to Bucky’s classroom, hovering in the doorway as he watched Bucky put away the last of the materials they’d been using. 
“Hey Buck?” he said after a minute. 
Bucky looked up, frowning at the look on Steve’s face. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” 
Steve ignored that. “Remember, when we were kids, and I grabbed you before you fell off the fire escape showing off for Jenny Calloway? And you said you owed me your first born? I’m cashing in. I need you to do something for me, no questions. And if you laugh at me, I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandkids’ teeth’ll hurt.”
“Well that seems unnecessary,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against one of the work stations. “You know I’d do it if you just said please. Seriously, Stevie, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up?” 
“Rhodey is cheating on Tony. I saw him with someone, and… They were definitely together. Can you just like… Let it slip? I’m afraid if I tell him he’ll think I’m lying, because --,”
“You’re desperately in love with him?” he asked, lips quirking up. 
“Buck!” Steve looked around like Tony was suddenly going to pop out of the corner of the classroom and call him out on it. “Come on, this is serious. Don’t fucking laugh at me!” 
Bucky held his hands up in surrender, and was quiet for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still fighting back a smile. “Right, okay,” he said, pushing off the desk and striding into the hallway. Steve’s eyes went wide.
“No, shit, wait,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean right now!” He started to follow Bucky down the hall, then stopped after a few feet because Bucky had already reached Tony’s classroom, and he didn't think he wanted to be here for this. But while Steve was debating if he could make it to the stairs before Bucky said something, Bucky knocked sharply on the side of the doorframe. 
“Hey! Stevie thinks you’re dating Rhodes,” he announced, before wandering off down the hall. Steve stared after him because what the fuck, that wasn’t what he’d told him to say, and where was he even going?
Before he had a chance to process, there was a crash from Tony’s classroom and then faintly, the sound of his voice. “Did he just…?” He sounded strangled, and then he was skidding into the hallway, hair standing up about five inches from his head and eyes wild. 
“Um, hi,” he said. Steve could practically see his chest heaving from here.
“Hi,” Steve said back a little stupidly. 
“I’m not dating Rhodey,” Tony burst out, staring at Steve with wide eyes like he couldn’t look away. “Never have been. Well, we had an almost thing in university, but -- that’s not the point. Rhodey and I aren’t together.” He gaze shifted, looking at Steve imploringly. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Steve swallowed hard. 
“I just…” He took a couple tentative steps toward Tony. “He showed up, and you were all over him, and you had about five million nicknames for him and so… I figured…”
“Nope,” Tony said quickly. “We’re just… Like that. Rhodey is very firmly in love with somebody else. We, uh… I was helping him shop for engagement rings last week.” He took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them, eyes somewhere around Steve’s collarbone. “Listen, Rogers. I know Carol looks like a lesbian, but so does Clint with the wrong glasses and a slim-cut pant, so please reconsider your personal biases and trust me. It's her and Rhodey. And it's.... it's you and me. Right?"
Steve could feel the ridiculous smile splitting his cheeks. “Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless. 
“I mean…” Tony looked up at him through ridiculously long eyelashes. “I’d like it to be?” 
There were a million and one things that Steve could say in response to that, but he couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, dipping his head to kiss him softly. Tony made a soft, whimpery noise, hands coming up to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease against the seam of Tony’s lips for a minute before he pulled back again, just a little. 
“I thought… You were acting so weird. I thought you’d figured out I had a crush on you and, you know. Didn’t know how to turn me down.” 
Tony made a pained noise, and then started laughing, pressing his face into Steve’s chest. His entire body was shaking with it, and Steve couldn’t help grinning as he wrapped his hands around Tony’s back. 
“I was acting weird because I had a thing for you. I figured you couldn’t possibly be interested because otherwise, why wouldn’t you have made a move? I was laying it on way too strong. I’ve never been the best at processing stuff like that. I get a little… manic.”
Steve wanted to kick his own ass, but it was hard to be upset when he finally, finally had his arms full of Tony. “Really?” he teased instead. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Tony bit his pec in retaliation — it was right there, how was he supposed to resist? — sending a full-body shudder through Steve. There wasn’t much for him to do after that but pull Tony up into another kiss, and then another, until they were making out lazily right there in the hallway. 
They might have kept going forever, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing. 
“Okay, seriously guys?” Bucky protested. “I’ve been killing time with Nat for the past half hour. Can’t you do that in one of your own classrooms? Or better yet, a goddamn bedroom? Preferably not in our shared apartment,” he added with a glare at Steve. 
Steve could feel his cheeks heating, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed, especially not with the smirk Tony was leveling at him. Steve shivered again, and his smirk grew wider. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, tossing a look at Bucky over his shoulder. “We’re going. Don’t get your ponytail in a knot.” Then he caught Steve’s hand. “Can I uh… can I buy you dinner? I know a great Italian place. Not too fancy, cozy… intimate.”
Steve’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “Sounds like a date,” he said, getting a goofy little delighted giggle out of Tony. 
“You know,” Tony said as they headed for the parking lot, fingers entwined. “You don’t have to be jealous of Rhodey’s nicknames. I can give you a nickname.”
Steve snorted. “I’ve heard some of Rhodey’s nicknames. I think I’m okay.” 
Tony stuck his tongue out at him, softening it by standing on tiptoe to give him another quick kiss. “Oh, what about Cap? You know, like Captain America? In the old comic books? You kind of look like him, all big and blond and buff and like you could single-handedly take down a Nazi base and rescue the damsel in distress. The damsel in distress being me, obviously.” 
Steve just laughed, shaking his head and happier than he’d ever been. “Tony, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”
@tonystarkbingo
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Note
(Surprise! It's me spamming your inbox again!) PUNK/VPW AU: Engie and Medic are bickering as usual untill Engi says something that makes Medic drop an octave and he becomes love stuck with Medic's deep voice (>:3)
and oh how i love you spamming me so~
another shorter one this time! and thank u sm for asking for something PUNK/VPW related, i nearly yel l ed when i opened my inbox lol
-
Flustered
They were friends at best, frenemies at worst. There was no way he was ACTUALLY attracted to this 6'2" PUNK son of a gun with more metal in his face than brains and a voice smoother than honey.
That would be ridiculous.
-
PUNK Medic and VPW Engineer were currently taking a much needed break in the shadows of one of the buildings near PUNK base, Engie having brought the folding chairs and Medic having provided the beers. It'd become sort of a weekly routine for the two of them; neither really remembering how or why but having gotten so used to routine that they saw a need to question it.
Even if most of their time together that wasn't spent in complete silence was just them annoying each other.
"God, you're so insufferable," Medic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Engie let out a snicker.
"Yeah, well, that's why we're friends, ain't it?"
"You're using the term 'friends' very liberally here, city boy."
"Oh shut your trap, I know you enjoy my company. I wouldn't be here otherwise."
"If you insist," Medic shrugged, Engie simply smiling and rolling his eyes.
"Now what was it you were saying again? You said the entirety of VPW thought we were... scary?"
"Uh, yeah, a little?"
"How on Earth are we scary? I can hardly imagine you're afraid of the colors red and black."
"Well you guys dress EXCLUSIVELY in red and black. And you all rarely talk during battle."
"We rarely talk period."
"Yeah, why is that? I don't think I even know what half of PUNK sounds like."
"I don't know. Most of us just don't talk unless prompted, I guess. With the sole exceptions of Pyro and Scout but even then, they really only talk to each other."
"Which is kinda weird. Like I'm not gonna judge y'all or anythin' but you'd at least expect your enemy to swear at you when they're being shot at."
Medic shrugged again.
"We've all been through... stuff. How about now, though? Still think we're scary?"
"Shucks, course not. I don't know the others as well as I know you but you're nothin' more than a teddy bear with anger issues that listens to industrial music," Engie scoffed as he took a sip of his beer, Medic looking at him amusedly.
He then got up from where he was sitting, placing his own bottle on the ground before he put both his hands on the arms of Engie's chair for stability, leaning over him. Deep red eyes peered into electric blue and green as he smirked softly at him, voicing dropping lower than Engie had ever heard it as he spoke.
"I'm sorry, did you... want me to be scarier?" He grinned, incisors poking out slightly.
Engie's eyes widened as he did, feeling his heartbeat speed up and his mouth part slightly as he tried to figure out something to say.
"Well, I uh- Uhm. I-" He stammered out, Medic looking at him in slight disbelief.
"Oh my god, I didn't actually scare you, did I?" He chuckled as he stood back up, the blush that had to have been on Engie's increasing 3 fold.
"N-no you did not! I just-" Engie exclaimed, biting down on his lip and looking away as he realized he didn't actually have a proper response.
"Oh?" Medic hummed, raising an eyebrow at him.
He then kneeled down next to his chair, Engie tensing up as he carefully redirected his gaze towards him, smiling again.
"What is it then? Is it... when I do this?" He asked playfully, voice dropping down to the same octave that it had before.
"Oh, fuck me," Engie inadvertently mumbled out, Medic just laughing before getting back up and sitting in his chair.
"At least take me to dinner first," He snorted before taking a sip out of his beer, though for a moment Engie almost though he seemed a bit... earnest, in his request.
If Engie's face could flush any redder, it would've.
"I hate you, you know that?"
"I believe we've made that clear, and yet somehow I suspect otherwise."
Engie said nothing more, shaking his head.
It was just Medic ribbing at him again.
They were just doing that thing where they hate flirt at each other, they do it all the time.
He didn't actually want to take his edgy ass to dinner.
...or have him talk in the tone of voice literally all the time for the rest of forever.
That would be ridiculous.
...Right?
Right.
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carrotsofavonlea · 4 years
Text
Drive Me Crazy
Chapter Three: Laying the groundwork
[AO3]
Anne woke up the next day feeling weird. It didn't hit until she looked out her window to see Gilbert's room that she was supposed to be "dating" him. This was ridiculous. They hadn't been seen in public together since the age of 12, and now suddenly they were supposed to walk into school the next day a "happy couple".
She'd been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn't realised she'd been staring into Gilbert's room, right at him. He opened his window and she did the same.
"This is crazy right?" He shouted across to her. Their houses were close enough that they could have a conversation through the windows, something they used to do all the time as children.
"Having second thoughts?'" Anne leaned out her window. Her tone was light, but she half meant it. She couldn't let him know she had also just been contemplating giving up.
"No, why? Are you?" He had that typical Gilbert voice, as if he were challenging her to some kind of bet.
"Absolutely not."
"Then I'll see you at school?"
"Shouldn't we discuss how we're doing…. this ?"
"We did yesterday." He also leaned on his elbow, out the window.
Anne shrugged, "I was thinking. Yesterday we didn't exactly paint the picture of friends let alone something more. People will be suspicious if we suddenly claim to be a couple."
"This was your idea!"
"I'm saying maybe we should...ease into it."
"Ease into it?"
"We tell people we're friends again, nothing dramatic but we say hi in the halls, we acknowledge each other, little things."
Gilbert sighed. "This is going to be more complicated than I thought."
"It'll work, trust me."
Gilbert nodded, about to walk away when he suddenly stopped himself. "Uh, would you like a ride to school?"
"Wouldn't that be strange?"
"Anne, we have to make some progress. No one's going to believe we like each other if we barely interact."
"Fine. You may drive me to school. I didn't want to walk anyway."
He gave her a sarcastic smile before disappearing from the window. Anne turned away, running a hand through her hair. What had she gotten herself into?
**********
Being in Gilbert's car was strange. Being around Gilbert was strange. He had an annoying habit when he was driving to tap along to the song on the steering wheel. It sent Anne's nerves into overdrive, watching him so carefree.
"Are you going to do that the whole time?" Anne reached over and turned the radio down.
"Excuse me but it's my car."
"You're not paying attention."
"I'm sorry Miss "I haven't got my license yet", since when were you the driver's ed teacher? I'm perfectly safe."
Anne folded her arms as he reached to turn up the radio again.
When they finally pulled into the parking lot, everyone started staring. As Anne got out, she could see people begin to whisper.
But what made all the stares worth it, was when Anne caught Roy's eye. He was talking to one of his friends, his face turning sour the minute he saw Anne coming out of Gilbert's car.
They walked into the hall together, still being met with stares.
"I didn't think we'd cause this much disturbance." Anne whispered to Gilbert.
"People know we're not exactly friends." He shrugged.
"I guess our actions yesterday didn't help…" Anne remembered the shouting match in the middle of the cafeteria. "I'm sorry about dumping milkshake on your head."
It took Gilbert aback slightly to hear Anne apologise to him. But he realised he probably wasn't the only victim. "I'm sorry I wasn't looking where I was going."
"See? We can be friends. We were once." Anne stopped at her locker.
Gilbert stood opposite her, hands awkwardly in his pockets. "So…."
Anne raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"I'll...see you later?"
"Of course. Buddy ."
"Bye. Pal ." He laughed, for the first time in years Anne had made him laugh. She forgot what it sounded like. His voice was deeper now, but his laugh remained the same. For a second it made her heart stop.
She watched him walk away, but the sound of Ruby's voice made her jump.
"What was that ?"
"What was what?"
"You….were talking….to Gilbert Blythe. " Ruby's eyes grew wide. "I thought you hated each other."
"I wouldn't say we hated each other." Anne said but Ruby's expression told her she didn't believe that for a second. "Ok, maybe we did dislike each other. But after yesterday we talked. I was mad about Roy, he was mad about Winifred and...I don't know. Turns out he's a good listener. Annoying if you ask me, but I suppose our friendship might be coming back. After all we used to be friends, why can't we be them now?"
"I suppose…." Ruby played with her hands nervously. "It's just strange is all."
"I'll see you at the planning committee?" Anne closed her locker and started walking away, leaving Ruby confused.
Her lie was in motion, now all she had to do was keep it up.
**********
"I saw you talking to Anne." Moody poked Gilbert with his pen to get his attention.
Gilbert turned in his seat to face Moody. "And?"
"You hated her."
Gilbert shrugged, "We've grown up now. And we agreed to finally put all that childish stuff behind us."
"Literally yesterday you were going on about what an awful person she was."
"That was before we started talking again."
Moody leaned forward. "Talking?"
"Yeah, we bumped into each other outside our houses but she seemed kinda down. Roy just broke up with her and I knew how it felt since Winnie just broke up with me. And I guess we just started talking like old times. She's not that bad once you get to know her."
Moody leaned back in his chair and Gilbert returned to face the front.
"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Never better."
"This is just like when you were 10 and you were crushing on her."
"No I wasn't." Gilbert didn't bother turning around, focusing on his work again.
"You'll see. You never did get over her."
"Moody." The teacher shouted.
"Sorry…" he mumbled and could hear Gilbert laughing to himself.
*******
For the first day, Anne and Gilbert mostly avoided each other like usual. Except now when they passed in the halls, they smiled. They even acknowledged each other across the cafeteria. After a while, the chaos seemed to die down, and people paid no attention to them.
"Gilbert!" Anne caught him as he was leaving his final class of the day. "You should have seen Roy's face today. He kept glaring at me."
"That's bad?"
"No, it's good. It means us being friends is slowly getting to him. The plan is working."
"Well Winifred doesn't seem to care. She didn't even acknowledge me."
They started walking to his car.
"It's only the first day." Anne shrugged, "If we give it a few days, then suddenly start to escalate things."
"I don't know…"
Anne tugged on his arm, "Come on! The sooner we date the sooner we can break up! Don't you wanna break up with me?"
He tried not to smile, but couldn't help it. "Fine."
"We're just laying the groundwork today. Planting the seeds in people's minds."
"You need to stick to one metaphor." He muttered.
"And this," she pointed to him, "is why we're not dating in real life."
He put a hand to his heart, mockingly "Ouch. That hurt."
"Shut up." She dismissed him, getting into his car before him.
***********
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anistarrose · 5 years
Text
The Fishtank Between Time and Space (GF One-Shot)
Summary: Stan doesn’t think much of the pet axolotl Ford left behind… until he realizes hardly anyone else can see it.
Word Count: 2100
Warnings: none
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653508
***
Stan initially figures it’s just a weird pet of Ford’s, simple as that. After all, Ford was okay with him adopting a possum and tying a knife to it when they were kids — little pink salamanders are frankly very normal, by the standards of Stanford Pines.
(Not to mention by the standards of the town that is Gravity Falls. Ford could’ve caught all kinds of disturbing creatures out there in the woods, like a feral gnome or a literal sentient fire... or like something that Stan hasn’t even laid eyes upon, only knowing of its existence from the creaking and rattling noises he always hears when venturing through the forest at night. But thankfully, Ford hasn’t invited any rabid beasts or dark entities that Stan knows of into his house, and Stan’s grateful for that.)
But the salamander — the “axolotl,” Stan learns after finally breaking down and doing some basic research — always feels just a little bit off, in a way he sometimes struggles to put his finger on.
He thinks it’s all in his head, how the beady eyes always seem to be fixed on him. How it never seems to stop smiling. How he’s never once seen it eat, even though the food pellets he gives it never seem to accumulate on the bottom of the tank.
He doesn’t know a whole lot about axolotls in general, and on the basis of that ignorance, he convinces himself that the salamander Ford left behind is perfectly normal.
Until one day a few months after Ford’s disappearance, when something rare happens — he has company other than the usual tourists.
It’s just Boyish Dan Corduroy, hired with some of the first spare cash Stan has had in a long time to come in and fix a few squeaky doors. But he takes his time lumbering through the living room on his way out, which sets Stan on edge. None of the secrets he’s hiding are possible to uncover from this floor of the house, but habit keeps him anxious. Throughout the rare times in his life in which he’s had a residence to call his own, visitors have almost always meant bad news.
Dan’s gaze lands on the fishtank, which has been diligently maintained as a healthy environment for salamanders even though the rest of the room is an unorganized mess. (There are a lot of jabs you could take at Stan’s character, but for whatever reason, he’s developed a soft spot for Ford’s old pet.) As always, the axolotl’s eyes stay fixed on Stan, even though the lumberjack is closer.
“You keep this tank pretty clean,” Dan notes. “You gonna buy some fish or something soon?”
“Well, I’ve already got the —” Stan pauses, realizing he’s not sure how to pronounce axolotl. “The salamander.”
Dan presses his face close to the side of the tank, inches from where the axolotl sits, gills twitching. “Really? Where?”
“You serious? It’s literally right in front of your face — that thing with the pink frills and the beady eyes?”
Dan steps back from the tank, throwing an arm behind Stan the clap him on the back. “Ah, I see what you’re doing! It’s a new attraction you’re testing out on me — the invisible salamander! Good one!”
“Are you — are you fucking with me? Can you really not see —”
But Dan’s already leaving. “Good luck with the Murder Hut business!” his voice boomed from the porch outside. “I’ll tell everyone to come visit your invisible friend!”
Stan whirls around back towards the tank. “Do you know what the fuck that was?” he asked the axolotl. “Who’s really pranking me here — Dan, or you?!”
The axolotl offers no reply, and Stan feels like an idiot for the brief moment in which he’d genuinely expected one.
“Maybe Ford did some weird occult shit to you, and you didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Stan mutters, shuddering slightly as he thought back to all the cracked prisms and X-ed out eyes he’d discovered in his brother’s house. “Or maybe I’m going crazy and hallucinated you all along.”
A bubble comes out of the axolotl’s mouth, rising to the top of the tank before bursting with a satisfying — and very real-sounding — pop.
“Thanks for the reassurance.” Stan tosses a handful of food into its tank, and trudges back to his bedroom upstairs.
There was one rule that Stan very quickly established as he began to run the Muder Hut — or the Mystery Shack, as he was thinking of renaming it — and that rule was not to keep anything genuinely supernatural around, unless it was vital to getting Ford back.
But the axolotl… well, it’s still up for debate whether it really is magical, but Dan hadn’t seemed like he’d been joking, and Stan’s pretty sure that if he was going to hallucinate, he wouldn’t imagine into existence a real salamander that he’d never heard of before with perfect accuracy.
Stan doesn’t want to get rid of it, though. He’s gotten used to the axolotl’s company and the routine of caring for it, even though its eyes still weird him out from time to time. And it’s already been around for months without showing any malicious tendencies, so… would there really be any harm in keeping it around?
***
Months, years, and then decades pass, and Stan’s relationship with the axolotl stays more or less the same. He feeds it and cleans its tank, it smiles at him, and he feels just the tiniest bit less lonely. It’s not much in terms of companionship, but Stan is happy to take what he can get. He talks to it sometimes, telling it about all the places he’s searched for Ford’s journals and all the roadblocks he keeps hitting while he works on reactivating the portal, and it always looks so encouraging.
But two things happen during those years — the first being that Stan becomes convinced that something supernatural is going on with that salamander.
Business is booming so dramatically that he can hardly handle it all on his own, and he goes through several handymen and cashiers before eventually firing each one. Almost all of them comment on the empty fishtank at one point or another, gesturing right towards the spot where Stan can see the axolotl floating, clear as day.
He definitely wonders if he really is hallucinating it after all, but then the second interesting thing happens: someone else notices the axolotl. Several someones.
“I didn’t know you had any pets besides the goat, Mr. Pines!” Soos exclaimes on his second full day working at the Mystery Shack, smooshing his face up against the side of the tank. “What a weird fish!”
Stan is so caught of guard that he doesn’t even think to explain that it’s actually a salamander. “Uh… yeah. It sure is.”
Soos frowns. “Something wrong, Mr. Pines?”
Stan folds his arms, shaking his head even though his mind is racing. “Me? I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting you to spot the shy little guy, since it usually likes to… you know, hide from strangers. Now, were we going to try and fix the golf cart, or not?”
And that’s the end of the axolotl discussion with Soos, over as quickly as it had begun. During the rare occasions Stan leaves the Mystery Shack, he always instructs Soos to feed it, and the axolotl always seems happy and healthy when he returns. He cannot for the life of him figure out why he and Soos seem to be the only two people in the world who can see it, but eventually he gives up on wondering. A mystery like that would’ve always been more of a question for Ford, anyways.
When he hires Wendy, it takes a while for him to realize that she can see it too. She spends so many weeks passing by the fishtank and not commenting on it that when she finally brings it up, Stan nearly spits out his coffee.
“Where’d you get that salamander, Mr. Pines? My science teacher is looking for a class pet, but everyone just keeps suggesting boring stuff like hamsters.”
“Uh… it came with the Shack. Two-for-one kinda deal, you know.”
“Darn, I was hoping you fished it out of the lake or something. Then I could’ve just gone and caught one myself.”
A few years later, when the twins arrive for the summer, Stan’s heart aches as he watches them discover the fishtank for the first time.
“Hey, Dipper, come check this out! Do you know what kind of animal this is?”
“Whoa, is that an axolotl? That’s so cool! I think I read that in Aztec mythology, they’re associated with the god of twins!”
“Really? Then you’ve just made the perfect new summer pals, Mister Axolotl!”
“Don’t tap on the glass like that, Mabel. You might scare it.” Dipper notices Stan watching them, and immediately starts firing off question after question. “Where did you get it? Do you ever show it to tourists? How long have you had it? How long do axolotls live? It looks pretty small — is it still a juvenile? Do they ever get bigger than this?”
Stan sighs. “Kid, I didn’t even know how to pronounce the world ‘axolotl’ until you showed up today. All I know is how to keep it fed — anything else, and you’re better off looking it up at the library or on a computer or wherever.”
“Well, you at least know where you got it from, right?”
Stan scoops a spoonful of food into the tank, avoiding eye contact with Dipper as he headed back to the gift shop. “I do, but it wouldn’t be the Mystery Shack if I didn’t keep a few secrets, would it?”
Dipper groans. “You’re no fun.”
***
When the axolotl disappears, it hits Stan harder than it should.
Even after thirty years of taking care of it, he never quite thought of it as his pet. It always struck him as more like a roommate, if anything — a lovable little freeloader who came in on its own terms, and stuck around only because it liked the place. Stan’s never given any thought as to why, but he’s always just felt weirdly certain that it could leave at any time if it wanted to.
And now, it has.
So he can’t help but wonder if it’s his fault. If he didn’t clean the tank enough, or cleaned it too much, or wasn’t fast enough noticing or resolving the situation with the lobster Mabel dumped in the tank.
Maybe it wasn’t anything he did. Maybe the axolotl just got bored of watching a man spending thirty years lying to tourists, forging his own brother’s signature, failing to learn quantum physics, and ultimately accomplishing absolutely nothing worthwhile.
Eventually, the kids notice and ask him, and this time he can’t spin it as a secret he’s keeping. He genuinely doesn’t know.
***
After Weirdmageddon, Stan’s memories are a two-thousand piece puzzle scattered across a tabletop, and he thinks he’s starting to fit some of the edge pieces together again, but there are still more gaps than connections. He remembers that the people who have been doting on him and showing him pictures are his family, and he remembers that he loves them and trusts them to help restore him to his former self, but progress is just… so… slow.
He doesn’t remember why they say he saved the world. He’s pretty sure they’re stretching the truth a little, but after seeing the way Ford’s face fell when Stan first asked why everyone was calling him a hero, he’s decided not to correct them.
So what if he doesn’t feel heroic? If it makes his family feel better, he’ll keep it to himself — it’s the least he can do, considering how many tears they’ve already shed for him.
But the first morning after his alleged act of heroism, while trudging through the ramshackle ruins of (he thinks) his house — a flicker of motion from behind cracked glass catches his eye.
The fishtank is nearly drained of water, but a familiar salamander sits in the puddle at the bottom, beaming at him. Stan blinks and rubs his eyes, wondering if he’s still dreaming, but then —
It speaks to him, in an ethereal and musical voice that resonates oddly in his ears, like he’s hearing the echo before he hears the words themselves.
I am so proud of you, Stanley.
“For what?”
Everything.
It dissolves into a froth of tiny, pink, glowing bubbles, which burst one by one as they float towards the top of the tank, and then the axolotl is gone.
***
(End notes:
So one day a few weeks ago, I just randomly woke up thinking “what if the Axolotl was only visible to the members of the Zodiac?” and several bouts with writers’ block later, here we are! Thoughts/comments/reblogs are welcomed as always!)
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gveret-fic · 5 years
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“Lena, you will not believe what Mon-el just said to me,” Kara fumed as she barged into Lena’s dorm room.
“Kara, I could have been changing,” Lena said mildly, taking off her glasses and putting a big textbook aside. "I could've had someone over."
Kara took a break from her fury to note how entirely adorable Lena looked like this, sloppy and studious and comfortable. "That's never happened before," she pointed out unthinkingly.
Lena visibly bristled. "It could happen, you don't know," she muttered.
“I’m sorry, you're totally right, I should’ve texted, I know, but, this just keeps happening to me and I really wanted to see you,” Kara explained in a rush.
“Slow down,” Lena said, purposely calm. “What keeps happening?”
Kara gestured indistinctly with her hands. “These—these guys that I thought were my friends wanting to—wanting something else from me!”
“Get in here.” Lena reached out to her until Kara took a few more steps into her room. “Mon-el said something to you?”
Kara nodded.
“Kara, I need you to be honest with me, and I swear to god if you act all coy, ‘aw shucks it's no biggie’ I will leave my own room,” Lena said very seriously. “Is he—is anyone making you feel unsafe?”
Lena's shoulders were tight, fists tucked in her lap, jaw visibly struggling not to clench. She looked absolutely ready to grab a man by the front of his tacky nylon jacket and throw down. And Kara knew for a fact that Lena Luthor had never thrown a punch in her life, got winded climbing a single flight of stairs, had in fact weaseled her way into a P.E. exemption in high school, but—alien constitution or no—Kara was pretty sure she'd never felt this well protected in her life.
“Aw, come here.” Kara kicked off her sneakers, hopped onto Lena’s bunk and held her arms wide open, and Lena still looked tense and a little scary, but she folded herself into Kara’s embrace, so easily, so naturally, that Kara felt a thrilling little pang in her chest.
“This is not an answer to my question,” Lena said grumpily, wiggling her hip closer to Kara’s body.
Kara held her tight and flopped onto her back on the bed, dragging Lena along. She looked up at the bottom of Lena’s cool but mean roommate’s bunk and considered her question seriously. “James has always made me feel really safe,” she said. “More than safe. Um, serene, I guess. It’s really my fault that our relationship kinda fell apart.”
She could feel Lena get all bunched up in her arms, probably on the verge of a fiery rebuttal, and she laughed. “Okay, okay, no self-recrimination in your presence, I remember.”
Lena hmphed. “I’m fine with you taking responsibility, but I won’t be party to this flagrant defamation.”
Kara stole a glance at her. Lena’s jaw was twitching again, her mouth pinched, and she’d clenched one hand in the hem of Kara’s sweatshirt. Just, impossibly endearing.
“Okay,” Kara said. “I’m just saying, James is one thing. But then Winn, who’s been, you know, I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve been here, and I guess I leaned on him a lot, emotionally. And then he kissed me, and told me he loved me, and he was—he was a little insistent. And he was so hurt after.”
“His feelings are not your responsibility.”
“Rationally, I know that. But looking at your friend and seeing him so sad, so… despondent. I felt like such a horrible person.”
“Kara.” Lena twisted her hand tighter in Kara’s shirt, looking at her with hypnotic intensity. It caused an interesting reaction in Kara’s belly. “You are the least horrible person I have ever met. Can you hear me? I’m telling you something very important right now. I want you to take this great wisdom to heart.”
Kara laughed. “Thanks, Lena. Maybe if I was a little more horrible, all of my friends wouldn’t fall in love with me all the time,” she said. “And now, this!” She gestured at Lena’s room, as if it embodied Mon-el somehow. Fortunately, nothing could be further from the truth.
Lena rolled her eyes dramatically. Kara wanted nothing more than to move into this bed with her forever.
“You know my thoughts on… that man,” Lena said.
Kara sighed. “I just wish I could have a close friendship with guys where we can hug and I can compliment them and tell them I love them and stuff without them reading into every little thing.” Kara realized she'd been incorporating an increasing number of Lena's limbs into their cuddle, and Lena's muscles had relaxed considerably in response. A swell of deep affection hit her. “Like with you.”
“Mm hm.” Lena turned her head away.
“Do you think I'm being unrealistic?”
Lena immediately whipped back to glare at her. “Absolutely not,” she scolded. “Your friend standards are abominably low, if anything. You deserve to have an affectionate, reciprocal relationship where your boundaries are respected unconditionally, Kara.”
Kara was hit with a strange urge to nuzzle Lena's face with her own face. Just a little.
It felt really, really nice. “I do have that,” she mumbled. “With you.”
Lena stiffened in her arms. On instinct, Kara dipped one hand under Lena’s shirt to caress her stomach, intending to soothe, but Lena jumped beneath her touch and whimpered, heart rate picking up alarmingly.
Kara promptly let go and crawled away, rolling into a sitting position.
In front of her, Lena curled into herself a little. It made her look smaller.
Kara’s heart clenched. “Are you okay?” Her voice came out too high and uneven. “I'm so sorry, you're talking so much sense about boundaries and here I am overstepping yours.”
Lena made an unintelligible sound in her throat. “You're not,” she said, but she sounded almost pained. “I'm just uptight.”
“I’m really sorry,” Kara repeated miserably. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, I—just give me a second.”
Kara willed her body not to move, her cells not to vibrate so loudly. She tucked her hands beneath her butt and listened as Lena’s heartbeat slowly evened out.
Lena took in a deep breath and let out an embarrassed little laugh. “Please excuse the dramatics,” she said, rolling onto her back. “You can hold me again. If you want.”
Kara did not literally jump at the opportunity. But she might have bounced a little.
Despite the distressing episode, Lena fit back into Kara’s arms like she belonged there.
Kara batted away the thought. Boundaries.
“I’m sorry,” Kara told her again. “I just really wanted to touch you just then.”
Lena made that strange noise again. “That’s—that’s fine. I mean, I’m fine with it. I mean—” She rubbed her hand over her face, and said, slightly muffled, “I liked it.”
“You did?”
Lena let out a harsh breath. “Kara—” She dropped her hand, looked at Kara for a moment, and shook her head. “Ah, fuck it. Tell me about Mon-el.”
Kara’s outrage flared anew at the reminder. “He just confronted me in the middle of the hallway! With a bunch of his friends around!” Lena was wearing a very vindicating scowl. Kara felt emboldened to go on. “And he was saying all these ridiculous things! He said I always looked at him like I was fascinated by everything he had to say, as if friends are supposed to not listen to each other when they talk. I like listening to my friends talk. That’s one of the perks of being friends! I wasn’t, like, giving him moon eyes or anything.”
Lena was directing a perfect impression of smitten doe eyes at her, and Kara snorted. “Yeah, exactly. Like that.”
“What?” Lena blinked rapidly and looked away.
“And then he said that, even though he ‘knows’ I’m a ‘generally reserved’ person, I can’t help touching him in small ways whenever I’m around him. Which, first of all, I do that with everyone I like! And even if I didn’t, the way I act around him is the only way he can observe my way of acting in the first place, so how would he know!” Kara gestured with Lena’s hand in hers for emphasis, though she wasn’t entirely sure when they’d linked hands.
“Right,” said Lena.
“And he claimed that he was the one I always came to when I wanted to complain about something,” Kara continued. “I haven’t even complained to him that much! He’s not a good complainee. Complaineree? Complaining buddy. He barely listens and then he gives bad advice.”
“Shocker.”
“Anyway, you’re always the first person I want to complain to,” Kara finished affectionately. “Exhibit A.” She nudged Lena’s knee with her toe, and immediately wanted to nudge her again. Or run her toe along Lena’s leg. Or something. But she didn’t.
Boundaries.
Lena frowned. “I think it was manipulative of him to corner you publically like that, where it would be harder for you to explicitly reject him or escape the situation.”
Kara nodded. “And that’s before he went in for the kiss!”
Lena’s whole body went rigid, her hand flexing in Kara’s. “He what?”
“I was trying to be gentle, so he must not have noticed the cues I was giving. But that really came out of nowhere! Even if he hadn’t realized I wasn’t interested, he should’ve at least understood that it wasn’t a smoochy mood.”
Lena scooched forward until their noses were almost touching and placed her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Kara, tell me honestly,” she said, voice lowered. “And take this offer seriously, because if you want me to, I can.”
Kara’s breath felt stuck suddenly. A few wispy strands of hair had been dislodged from Lena’s bun and now sloppily framed her face. Her eyelashes were very pretty. Kara nodded silently.
“Do you want me to get Mon-el kicked off campus?” Lena asked intently.
Kara was going to laugh, she was reasonably sure. She was going to laugh or she was going to grin or certainly she was going to say something. But she didn’t. She didn’t do that.
What she did, did do was close that unimaginable, insignificant distance between them—a gentle tilt of her chin, that was really all it took—and brush her lips across Lena’s perfect, tender, darling mouth.
For a blessed, unreal moment, all Kara could register was softness, and feeling, and warmth. And then she realized—Lena had frozen entirely, her body and her breath, except for her heart which was skidding in a cadence that clearly screamed displeasure.
Kara scrambled off the bed, hand flying to cover her mouth.
“Oh, my gosh,” she cried. “I've been the presumptuous friend inappropriately in love with their platonic pal all along!”
Lena stared at her for an agonizing moment, then buried her head in her hands and let out a very loud, prolonged groan. “Every other word in that sentence was the precise opposite of the truth,” she said crisply when she emerged.
Kara stopped pulling on her hair to eloquently inquire, “Huh?”
“Kara, I want to raise corn on a farm with you,” Lena said, improbably earnest. “Wake up at the ass crack of dawn and brush down the herd of goats you’ve named after boy band members from the nineties. I want to cook homebred breakfast for twelve just for you and watch the sunrise tinge your hair orange. I want to wear ugly boots and work pants with eight discrete pockets and get caked in mud up to my thighs every day. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“I—no?”
Lena, bafflingly, smiled in evident pleasure. “That’s all right. That was a long shot.” She gave an excited, hiccupy little laugh. “Let me put it like this: you’re not presumptuous, and you’re not inappropriate. And I certainly do not have to be your platonic pal if you don’t want that.”
“You mean—?”
“I love you, Kara,” Lena said briskly, like she was reading off a shopping list. “I’m in lesbian love with you. I have romantic ulterior motives for you. I want to be more than friends with you. I want to date you. I want to kiss you. I want to taste—”
Kara went down on her knees and cupped Lena’s face and pulled her down and kissed her again, this time with intention.
Lena’s lips, startled, were soft and delicate. Lena’s lips, reciprocal, were firm, insistent, demanding, heady.
Kara felt like she could get drunk off of them. She felt like she could be sustained by the flavor and texture and movement of Lena’s lips and tongue and mouth alone. She could coast on this feeling and reach the sky without bothering to fly.
She was in love with her best friend. How cool was that?
Lena sucked on her lip and let go with a graze of teeth.
Oh. Kara felt drunk already.
“Cool,” she breathed, and Lena laughed. “Me too.”
Lena slid off the bed to kneel beside her and kissed her again, slow and simple, steady pressure and gentle suction, running a knuckle along Kara’s jaw. Kara shivered, electrified.
“I can’t believe four out of four platonic friends agree,” Lena said, ducking her head and laughing soundlessly against Kara’s throat, “Kara Danvers is the bee’s knees.”
Kara giggled helplessly. “Shut up!”
Lena kissed where her mouth was, right beside Kara’s jugular. “I’m so sorry, Kara, you’re simply irresistible.”
“Lena,” Kara whined.
“Clearly marriage material.” She caught the delicate, invulnerable skin there between her teeth.
“So, all that farm stuff…?”
Lena shrugged, and continued sucking on Kara’s neck. “We’ll work up to that.”
Kara didn’t mention it, unwilling to ruin the mood, but she thought Kal at least would be very pleased.
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hollymartinswrites · 4 years
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Chapters: 10/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References, The Shining References, Doctor Sleep References
Summary:
Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.
Chapter X: Richie and Eddie are taught a valuable lesson by their eldest daughter.
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“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Eddie was silent for a long moment and Richie worried he was about to call the whole thing off when he suddenly nodded once. Richie exhaled a shaking breath.
“Okay,” he said and dialed the number on his phone. It rang several times, both men holding their breath, until a generic voicemail message began speaking. “Shit.”
Richie hung up.
“That’s definitely the right number?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah. Should we try again later?”
Eddie shrugged.
“You could leave a message, I guess,” he muttered. “I still feel weird about this. Maybe we should do a background check on this guy.”
“We’re not inviting him to our house, Eds.”
“Yeah, but people can find things pretty easily nowadays.” Eddie sighed. “Has Tess mentioned anything to you about this...shine thing lately?”
Richie shook his head.
“She’s been pretty normal,” he said. “She did cry the other day when you left for work but I think that’s because she didn’t sleep well the night before.”
Eddie ran a hand through his hair.
“And why’s it called a shine?” he muttered to himself. “What the hell does that mean?”
Richie shrugged.
“Sounds cooler than just saying, I have weirdass powers I can’t explain,” he offered.
Eddie sighed and shook his head.
“Let’s wait a while and then we’ll try calling him again,” he said. He made as if to leave the room when he paused suddenly. He turned back to his husband. “The other day, when you had her show me her...shine...she said she didn’t want to because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Do you know why she said that?”
Richie frowned and shook his head.
“I figured it was just because you’re her favorite,” he admitted.
“Shut up, she doesn’t have a favorite,” Eddie replied tiredly. “You gotta get that shit out of your head.”
“I know, I know, I’m just kidding,” Richie said, sounding like he was definitely not kidding.
Eddie leaned down and kissed him gently.
“You’re too old to let your self-confidence be dictated by a four-year-old,” he murmured.
“Hey, I accept the fact that I’m second-choice, Eds.”
“Well, you’re first choice for me, dipshit.”
Richie wanted to crack a joke about technically being his second what with Myra being there first but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and enjoyed Eddie’s kisses.
Laundry was one of the few chores that Richie actually enjoyed. Aside from the occasional pukefest (he had learned early into parenthood that kids apparently can only puke in the messiest, Regan-in-The-Exorcist-style manner), it wasn’t that gross, and it was therapeutic to see a full hamper emptied and neatly folded clothes on the bed, ready to be put away. Plus, the smell of freshly done laundry was one of the best smells in the world and he could always convince one of the girls to help him with folding—so long as he put the TV on as they did so.
He was carrying a bag of freshly done laundry down the hall, wondering if Tess would let him choose what to watch as they folded when he heard hushed voices from her room. He paused. Now, little kids did tend to speak aloud to themselves, especially when playing, but this sounded...different.
He gently placed the bag of laundry on the floor and took a tentative step closer to Tess’s door, which was slightly ajar. Concentrating, he could just make out Tess’s young voice, speaking excitedly to no one. Holding his breath, Richie took another quiet step closer and listened carefully.
“I know,” Tess said happily, “I saw. And I’m getting better at it.”
Richie frowned. No one was responding and unless someone had managed to break in and not set off their house alarms, he and his daughter were alone in the house. And Tess, like Lydia, always provided multiple voices when playing alone with their dolls. Now, she fell silent, as if listening to a response only she could hear.
“I know,” she repeated, “thank you. I’m doing so good.” She suddenly laughed. “That’s silly, Abra!”
Breathless and with his heart pounding, Richie rushed towards the door and abruptly pushed it open. Tess jumped, startled.
“Tess?” he asked, breathlessly.
She suddenly looked around her room and pouted.
“Papa, you made Abracadabra go away!” she exclaimed sadly.
“I did?” Richie said, gazing around himself. Her room looked the same as always. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she shrugged. She lifted her coloring book and showed him the page she was working on. “Like it?”
“Yeah, great job,” he offered gently. He sat beside her on her bed and tried to decide how best to ask. “So...you were just talking to Abracadabra?”
“Uh-huh,” Tess replied, stretching out on her bed and flipping to a fresh page to color.
“What did...what did you guys talk about?” he asked casually.
She shrugged.
“Stuff.”
“What kinda stuff?”
“Ummm,” she said, “school and my shine and stuff.”
Richie nodded. Tess reached up to him with a crayon. He smiled, warmed by her natural kindness, and took it, leaning over to color with her. They were both silent for a while, content to merely color the page. Richie swallowed before continuing, “So, um, what does Abracadabra look like?”
“Like a girl,” Tess replied, selecting another crayon.
“A girl like you? Your age, I mean?”
She shook her head.
“No, bigger,” she said.
“Like Lydia?”
“No, bigger, I think.”
“A grown-up?”
Tess furrowed her little face before shaking her head again.
“Okay,” Richie said. “And she’s nice to you?”
“Oh yeah,” Tess replied, smiling, “she’s my friend.”
“Good, that’s good,” Richie replied. He fell silent and watched his daughter color happily. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
She nodded.
“Yep.”
“Hey,” he said gently and, with his free hand, tenderly lifted her chin so her eyes met his, “I mean it. You never have to be afraid to tell me or you Dad anything. We love you no matter what.”
“I know,” Tess replied, a mildly confused look on her face.
Richie gazed at her for a long moment before nodding.
“Alright, good,” he said. “You wanna help me fold the laundry?”
“Can we watch Wizard of Oz, too?”
Richie huffed a laugh.
“Yeah, kiddo, come on.”
Richie placed the last folded washcloth on the towering pile of laundry and leaned back. He reached down and reclined in his seat, once again grateful that he had convinced Eddie to spring for the reclining couch last year (though Eddie had insisted they were for old people). Once he was comfortable, he lifted his arm and Tess snuggled up against him, her arm thrown around his middle.
She sighed happily.
“You good, kid?” Richie asked.
“Uh-huh,” she said. She squeezed her arm around him. “I like this.”
“I like this, too,” Richie replied, his heart overflowing with love. She’s finally warming up to me, he thought.
“Yeah,” Tess said. “This is comfy. You’re soft.”
That startled a laugh out of Richie.
“I’m soft?” he repeated, glancing down at his daughter.
“Yeah,” she said. “I like it. Makes you comfy.”
Richie grinned.
“So I shouldn’t try to lose weight and get muscles?” he asked playfully.
Tess looked up at him, frowning.
“No way,” she said quickly.
Richie laughed and leaned down to kiss his daughter on the top of her curls.
“I love you, kiddo,” he said gently.
“Love you, too,” she replied, then brought her finger to her lips. “Shh.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, you’re right,” Richie said and turned back to the TV, where Glinda was singing. Richie wondered how many times he had watched this movie since adopting Tess but figured it was a lost cause. Well, at least it was better than most of the crap they call family films today.
Dorothy and the Scarecrow had only just met the Tin Man when the front door opened.
“We’re home,” Eddie called.
“In here,” Richie replied. Tess cuddled in closer against him.
Both Eddie and Lydia entered the living room, Lydia rushing ahead and breathless.
“Papa, I—ugh, this movie again?” she groaned.
“Tess helped me with the laundry so she got to pick what to watch,” Richie explained.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “We watch this movie all the time,” she pointed out.
“Lyds, I thought you were going to tell everyone what you got today at gymnastics,” Eddie said, trying to get her back on track.
“What’d you get?” Richie asked.
“Shh!” Tess hushed.
Lydia pouted as she glared at her sister. Richie sighed and picked up the remote, pausing the movie.
“Hey!” Tess exclaimed.
“Your sister has something to tell us,” Eddie said, raising an eyebrow at Tess, which only resulted in her pouting, too. “Go on, Lyds.”
Lydia, still a slight frown on her face, opened her rainbow tote bag and pulled out a colorful piece of paper. She held it out for her father and sister to see.
“What’s this?” Richie asked, leaning over as he read it.
“Says I’m the best listener,” Lydia mumbled, no longer excited.
“And most improved,” Eddie said.
“Hey, that’s great, kiddo,” Richie said happily. “You’re gonna be the next Simone Biles. Or even better than her. Not that it’s a competition or anything but...you know.”
Lydia smiled shyly and shrugged.
“Can we put the movie back on now?” Tess asked.
“How about you say congrats to your sister first?” Eddie offered.
She turned towards her sister.
“Congrats, movie now please,” she said quickly.
Lydia’s smiled disappeared. She turned towards Eddie.
“I told you she wouldn’t care,” she exclaimed. “No one cares!”
“Hang on, sweetheart, we all care,” Eddie said, reaching out towards her.
“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Richie insisted. “Tess is just being fussy.”
“Am not,” Tess shot back, annoyed at the insinuation.
“No, she’s being a brat,” Lydia declared.
“Lydia,” Eddie said firmly, “that was unnecessary. Your sister isn’t a brat. Apologize.”
“No,” she replied, suddenly sounding very near tears. “It’s not fair. She is so a brat because you guys love her more than you love me!”
Both men blinked at her in shock and Lydia clearly took their silence as confirmation because she continued, “You only care about Tess and her stupid shine thing. It’s just not fair! I’m special, too!”
“Of course, you are—”
“And she is so a brat, a big one!”
“Am not!” Tess insisted, now thoroughly riled up.
“Are so,” Lydia replied. She pointed at her sister, curled up against Richie. “You’re a big brat and Daddy only loves you because of your shine. That’s it!”
Tess instantly burst into tears, hiding her face against her father’s shirt and wailing. Lydia blinked and, before either of her fathers even had the chance to catch up to what just happened, ran out of the room, down the hall, and slammed the door of her bedroom closed.
Richie and Eddie stared at one another.
Over Tess’s head, Richie mouthed the words, “What the fuck?”
“Okay, so how do we handle this?” Eddie asked, his hands flying as he paced around the living room.
“How am I supposed to know?” Richie asked.
“You have sisters,” Eddie pointed out. “Wait, call your sister. See how she deals with shit like this with her kids.”
Richie sighed and glanced down at their youngest daughter, asleep on the couch. After a thoroughly intense crying session, only calmed down by both her fathers assuring her she was not a brat and they loved her equally and deeply, Tess had done the helpful thing and passed out. Frankly, Richie thought that most of the world’s problems could be solved by naps but they still had a pissed off Lydia to deal with and she was not one for naps.
“I think we need to talk to her together,” he offered.
“And say what to her?”
“I don’t know, that we love her?”
Eddie paused and ran a hand through his hair.
“I think we need to punish her for flying off the handle like that,” he said.
“Well, Tess kinda was being a brat,” Richie observed, wincing when Eddie shot him a disdainful look. “But yeah, okay, name-calling is a punishable offense.”
Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumped.
“Maybe if we can just get them to apologize to one another,” he murmured.
“Perfect, no punishments necessary,” Richie said, standing from the couch, careful to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “Come on, we’re in this together.”
“What, right now?” Eddie asked, wide-eyed.
“No, let’s keep our daughter in her room for a week, see how it goes,” Richie replied. “Yes, right now. Don’t be a baby.”
“Hey, no name-calling,” Eddie shot back. “She clearly learned that behavior from you.”
“Yeah, like you’ve never called me names,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “You barely call me Richie.”
Eddie looked as if he was about to reply but thought better of it. He merely scowled as he followed his husband down the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Richie knocked on Lydia’s bedroom door.
“Lyds, we’re gonna come in, okay?” he said gently. “We gotta talk.”
“I don’t wanna,” came the muffled reply.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Richie sighed. “We’re coming in.”
“But it’s my room!”
Richie couldn’t help it. He smiled.
“I tried that line with my parents many times,” he said as he twisted the doorknob. “It didn’t work in the 80s and it won’t work now.”
He opened the door and he and Eddie gazed at their daughter, sitting on her bed with a tear-stained face. Her arms crossed over her chest and her bag and its contents spilled across the floor. Richie felt oddly small in front of her angry, disappointed stare. Luckily, Eddie—already familiar with staring angrily and disappointedly—stepped up to the plate.
“Lydia,” he said gently, slowly walking towards her, “I know you were hurt but you can’t call your sister a brat.”
Lydia huffed and looked away.
“Look, she was wrong, too, and once she wakes up, we’re going to talk to her,” he said quickly, “but she’s still just a little kid. She doesn’t always know better.”
“That’s not fair,” Lydia muttered.
“I know,” Richie replied, rubbing his neck as he remembered his own tear-filled arguments with his sisters growing up. “I have a big and a little sister. Growing up, nothing seemed fair.”
Lydia glanced at him but quickly looked away, tightening her arms across her chest. Richie stepped towards her and sat beside her on the bed.
“Look, kid, it’s not easy being the older sister, I get that,” he offered. “And I know this family has been a bit...focused on Tess for the last few months but that’s just because we need to make sure you’re both safe and healthy. Not because we love one of you more.”
Lydia wiped at her eyes and sniffed.
“But sometimes,” she whimpered, “sometimes it’s like you guys don’t even know I’m here.”
Richie had had his heart broken several times in his life and each time he had thought it was the worst feeling in the world. Now, as he gazed at his daughter wiping away her tears, he knew all those other times had been bullshit. He fell silent, unable to put his troubled thoughts into words.
“Lydia, you’re our first born,” Eddie said, crouching down in front of her. “You think we’d ever overlook or forget you? Do you know how important you are to us? To this family?” Lydia hesitated before shrugging. “Your dad, sister, and I would be lost without you,” Eddie stated firmly, taking her hand.
Richie stared at the two of them, awed. Maybe it wasn’t Bill who had the way with words.
Lydia sniffed again and smiled softly.
“So we’re sorry if we ever made you feel that way,” Eddie continued. “But you need to say you’re sorry to your sister, too. And we’ll make sure she apologizes to you, too.”
“Okay,” Lydia sighed. “‘M sorry.”
Eddie stood and leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.
“Clean up your bag and come into the kitchen for lunch,” he said. “Rich, wanna help me?”
Richie blinked, stood, and followed his husband out to the kitchen.
“You handled that like a fucking champ today.”
Eddie glanced up as he tapped at his tablet.
“What?” he murmured.
“With Tess and Lydia,” Richie clarified, putting away their laundry in their drawers. “You knew just want to say to Lyds. I fucking froze.”
“You didn’t freeze,” Eddie replied. “You were good with her, too.”
Richie shrugged.
“I looked at her and just couldn’t...couldn’t find the words,” he sighed. “It was like looking at myself as a kid and I couldn’t even say anything.”
“Richie,” Eddie said, lowering his tablet and gazing at his husband, “you did good. You’re too hard on yourself.”
“I don’t know,” Riche mumbled. He looked over at Eddie and smiled gently. “Remember how nervous you were back when we first started looking into adoption? Look at you now. Fucking father of the year.”
Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled.
“You’re overreacting,” he said, shaking his head. After a few moments’ silence, he glanced up at Richie. “What are you staring at?”
“You, dipshit,” Richie replied, grinning.
“I thought we said no name-calling,” Eddie shot back, a smirk on his face.
“For the girls, yes,” Richie answered, walking over towards Eddie. He took his husband’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Eddie moaned softly against his lips and Richie was just about to move his hands to his waist when something started buzzing. “Fuck, is that your phone or mine?”
“Yours,” Eddie sighed. “Over on the bureau.”
“Ugh.”
Richie got up and hurried across the room.
“Whoever it is, tell them it’s after 9pm and we don’t take calls now,” Eddie said.
Richie grasped the phone and lifted it, his stomach clenching when he saw the unsaved New Hampshire number on the screen. He stared at it as it buzzed in his hand.
“Who is it?” Eddie asked.
Richie looked up at his husband, his hair disheveled and his face so sweet and inviting.
“No one,” Richie replied and placed the phone back down before returning to Eddie.
2 notes · View notes
chlobeax · 5 years
Text
Sparks Fly
Almei makes me so soft, and I love Taylor, so this is fitting for me.
Paring: Alphonse Elric/ Mei Chang
Basic Gist: Some stories that go along with the lyrics of the song
Word Count: 1652
Read On AO3
The way you move is like a full on rainstorm
And I'm a house of cards
Mei had never run so fast. Al had sent her letter to meet him at a restaurant in Xing. The letters were something she loved getting, but he was actually here in Xing. Sure he was with Zampano and Jerso, but he was there. She’d get see how he looked, how he was doing, and she’d get to hear his voice again.
Alphonse, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. He was going to see the girl he’d been crushing on for quite a while. He tried getting advice from his brother, Zampano, and Jerso. They didn’t do anything. He spent half the morning hogging the hotel bathroom doing his hair and other things his brother would be teasing him about. When he finally left it, feeling confident, Zampano and Jerso eyeing.
“Did you really need to hog the entire fucking bathroom?” Jerso asked him, arms folded.
“Sorry,” Al laughed sheepishly. “I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” Al walked over to the bed to grab some stuff he would bring with him.
“You’re really gonna bombard her with questions when you see her?” Zampano stopped him, making him drop his notes and books. “You haven’t seen the Princess in two years, and you’re in love with her, and you’re gonna ask her questions? ”
“On none other than alkahestrey !” Jerso added.
“Oh, I guess you’re right, but then we might have nothing to talk about,” Al set everything down.
“You two have been writing to each other for two years, you’ll find something,” Zampano said to him before pushing out the door.
“Wait, Zampan- okay,” Al said as the door shut.
You're the kind of reckless that should send me running
But I kinda know that I won't get far
It was a quiet night in Resembool. That was until you get to a small hill of the Rockbell estate. All you heard that night was two brothers yelling at each other over protection. It was something they had fought about before, but this was harder, harder for Mei to watch. Winry had been through this and told her it was the hardest thing to watch. Mei had been visiting Amestris for Ed and Winry’s wedding, she wasn’t expecting to get to the house hearing her best friend yelling at his older brother. It was a sight.
Winry had pulled her away into her room with Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang. They look well, better than the last time I saw them. Mei thought to herself. “I’m so sorry you had to be here with this started, Mei,” Winry apologized. “We thought it was going to be a normal night, but while waiting for you, Ed said something that may have angered both of them,” The poor girl sighed.
Riza rubbed her back calmy. “We thought it was best to let them were themselves out before we talk them,” The last times Mei had seen Riza Hawkeye, she’s either be wearing her military uniform or her grey jacket and casual clothing. Today she had seen her in a normal turtle neck with blue jeans, Mustang was wearing his normal three-piece suit. “Then you came and we knew they wouldn’t hear you knock, so we got you,”
“Does this happen often?” Mei asked softly.
“It hasn’t happened since they left the fifth laboratory,” Mustang sighed.
Downstairs the yelling had stopped, so Winry stepped out to grab her fiancee, probably to scold him, and Mei still wanted to say hi to Alphonse. She walked down the stairs to see Al sprawled out on the couch his hands halfway pushed through his golden hair and his eyes closed and irritated.
He stilled looked pretty in her opinion. She was over her childhood crush and the two were best friends now, but she couldn’t help but stare at him. “Oh hey Mei,” Al’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “When did you get here?” He was now sitting straight up, his hair messier than before.
“Oh, um, about 10 minutes ago, Winry let me in,” She smiled back at him.
“Oh so I’m guessing you heard all of that,” He said hoping she would lie to him and say ‘no’.
“Yeah, but Winry told me it happens before, I’m not gonna get mad at my best friend for a fight that wasn’t his fault,” She smiled and clapped her hands together.
“So we can agree it was Ed’s fault,” He held his arms out, waiting for a hug.
“Oh totally, we can safely rule that out,” She laughed and returned his hug.
And you stood there in front of me just
Close enough to touch
Mei shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be standing in front of her boyfriend’s room asking for help with a small nightmare at three in the morning. But she was. She knocked frantically for a few seconds, not wanting to be in the dark for much longer, before turning away and leaving. A few seconds after she started walking she heard the door rush open. “Mei? Mei, was that you?”
She turned around before running back to the light of his room. She grabbed onto him tightly. It wasn’t long before he returned the hug tightly. “Hey, what’s up?” He said once they pulled away. He pulled her inside so they wouldn’t wake anybody up.
“Uhm,” She didn’t want to say nightmares. “I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to see if you were up,” She smiles knowing it wouldn’t cut for him.
“Yeah that’s not the reason,” He smiled. “I know you, Mei it’s okay to admit you have nightmares, I’d be worried if you didn’t,”
“You’d be worried either way,” She sighed.
“Just tell me,” He looked her in the eye. “What happened to not keeping secrets, huh?” His smile was sweet with a hint of sentimental laughter.
Close enough to hope you couldn't see
What I was thinking of
“I just don’t want you to think I’m weak,” She sighed looking down.
“Like hell, I think you’re weak, you’re the strongest girl I know if you have nightmares,” Al grabbed her hands and pulled her onto the bed. “I have them, come on, just tell me what happened.”
“It was about you, back on the Promised Day,” She sighed. “When you blocked that one attack, it ruined the seal, Al,” Tears were forming in her eyes.
“I died didn’t I?” He asked softly.
“Your body just fell apart, Ed couldn’t handle it, neither could I, Ed wouldn’t fight without you,” She fell into a hug again. She could feel the tears staining his shirt.
“Hey,” He pulled her up to face him. His golden eyes had so much in love them. “I’m still here, right? And I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, okay,” He smiled.
“I know, I know,” She connected her lips to his. “And I’m not leaving either.”
Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Al was sitting in his room in Resembool just reading. Hiding out away from Ed and Winry who were one mistake away from yelling at each other for five minutes just to make out with each other. The only thing covering them was the loud thunder and rain.
He was sitting comfortably until his brother came into the room. He seemed calm, not disheveled. “Hey,” He simply said.
“What happened to cooking with your wife?” Al teased him.
“We’re done, I just came up to tell you, also Mei’s outside,” Ed said laying down on his bed. He’d gotten used to his brother sharing a room with him and sometimes he’d sleep in there during the day, so they had just decided to keep it in there.
Al stopped everything he was doing, frantically got up, yelled at his brother, and ran downstairs. He flung open the door to see Mei Chang about to knock. She was soaked. She apparently didn’t tell Al she was at the train station and had to walk here in the rain.
“Hey, Al!” She smiled. He’d closed the door behind him, knowing Granny wouldn’t want her inside. Plus then they’d be even. Equivalent Exchange, right?
“What are you doing here?” Al said over the rain. It was dark, the light from the windows help him see her face. They’d been together since before Ed’s wedding, but they never told anyone, Al felt it was funny to do what his brother did to him.
“I thought I’d surprise my boyfriend, but this happened,” She gestured to the rain and laughed.
“It’s a surprise no doubt, you should’ve let me pick you up,” He finally pulled her into a hug.
“That would’ve ruined the surprise,” She laughed into him. She finally met his shoulder in height at 16, she hated how tall he was.
“Well I mean, Brother ruined it, telling me you were outside,” He took her face in his and connected their lips.
“I missed you.”
Take away the pain
'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile
He didn’t like seeing Mei in pain, it made him feel pain. Here she was crying into him over something that had happened to her. She still wouldn’t tell him what had happened. She just sat with him trying to find her breath and her voice again.
“It’s okay, I’m right here,” He soothed her. Mei talked to him all the time to calm herself down if it was something Ling said, her father or something just frustrated her. But she just wouldn’t tell him what this was about. So he just tried his best to make her smile. Playing with Shao Mai, messing with her hair, telling her childhood stories, or telling her jokes. She eventually started to smile and laugh along with him, which made him feel so much better in every way.
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sis-tafics · 6 years
Text
Our Little Family - Moving Out
Summary: You and Dean struggle with a game changing decision
Our Little Family Masterlist
Our Little Secret Masterlist
Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Eileen
Pairings: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen
Word Count: 1087
Warnings:language, angst
A/N:  Thank you so much for reading. Thank you to the people that requested this one <3
THIS IS UNBETA-ed, all mistakes are my own
Tumblr media
You tiptoe out of Evie’s room, her soft snores telling you that she is finally asleep. You’re hoping the twins give you and Dean a few hours of sleep. They’ve both been sick, running a low grade temp and you don’t remember the last time either of you got more than two or three hours of sleep.
Pushing open the door to your room, you’re shocked not to see Dean there. Hell, the bed hasn’t even been touched since you made it this morning. You turn, stepping down the hall, looking for your husband. Not in the kitchen, not in the war room.
As you come into the Library he’s slouching in a chair, facing away from you, a photo album opened on the table and a drink in his hand that he swirls slowly before taking another sip.
You come up behind him, squeezing his shoulder before your hand wanders down to his chest as you lean down to press a kiss to his scruffy cheek, “I thought you’d be asleep.”
He shakes his head slowly, free hand coming up to grip your forearm, “Couldn’t.”
You wrap your other arm around him from behind, running your hand over his warm chest back and forth, “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer right away and you look down at the photos of Dean and Evie, you and the twins, all of you together. Dean swallows hard, tilting his head so it rests against yours, “Evie asked me today if her friends could come over and play because they all went to play at that one girl’s house today, you know? What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I mean-she’s only in preschool, w-what...” he trails off, taking a sip of the whiskey.
Shit, you’ve thought about it, but them not just being your babies didn’t seem real, not yet.
His head moves, and you turn yours, looking into his red rimmed eyes. He presses his lips against yours, a quick kiss, “I don’t want them to grow up like Sammy and me or live like we did.”
You force a smile, resting your forehead against his, “I know.”
“I want them to have friends and do all that kid stuff. I don’t want them to hunt, I mean, I want them to know how to protect themselves, but I want them to have a life.”
“And how the hell do we tell other kids’ parents that we live in the batcave?” you joke and it gets him to half chuckle.
“Yeah,” he sets his drink down and slides the chair back a little, making enough room, pulling you around to sit on his lap, holding you tight against him, “And like me and you didn’t graduate because of this shit, and I- fuck I don’t want them to live like this.”
“What do you want to do?” you whisper, cupping his cheek, your thumb rubbing over his skin.
He shrugs, “I don’t know, it’s kinda hard to leave somewhere you know is safe.”
“On the flip side, we don’t have a ton of stuff chasing after us anymore. We’ve really only stuck to low level stuff since we had Evie. And since Kasey and Kyle, we barely even hunt, what, maybe once every couple months? When’s the last time we exorcised a demon?”
He half laughs, shaking his head, “I can’t even remember.”
“Let’s face it, we’re retired.”
He chews on his bottom lip, “I never thought that was going to be a thing.”
“Me either,” you rest your head on the crook of his neck.
“Fuck, it’s not like we can get a house though. We’re both supposed to be dead, I don’t think either of us have a social security number fake enough to get a loan on a house.”
“We could always rent, maybe get a real job or something.”
“So were you two planning on talking to us?,” Sam’s voice makes you both jump, looking his way, standing under the archway, leaning against the wall.
You settle back against Dean, “We’re just talkin’ out loud.”
Sam pulls out the chair across from you guys, sitting down, “I was going to tell you guys in the morning, but I found something when I was going through the Men of Letters’ ledgers.”
You raise your eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Sam grabs one of the leather bound books down the table a little, flipping through the pages until he finds what he is looking for, “Here it says that they had money stashed for their operations, they invested it, payed off people, invested even more and that’s part of what keeps this place running.”
Dean adjusts, “What do you mean?”
Sam takes in a big breath, sliding the book over to you two, “That this money, that was a lot back then, has been sitting in banks, real estate and been reinvested in stocks since the fifties. I think, there is quite a bit of money sitting there, like in the tens of millions a lot.”
You grab the book, glancing over it, “You mean there is enough here that we could move the kids out? All of us?”
Sam nods, “Yeah, and there would be a ton left over. I mean, if our kids are going to be there it should probably look like we have jobs and stuff, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t get the kids out of here.”
“What does Eileen think?” Dean asks.
Sam shrugs, “She seems pretty thrilled with it. We were talking about Jake earlier and with her being pregnant again...I have no idea how in the hell you two do it here. And I want all that stuff for them too, you know? Play sports...”
“Be a mathlete,” Dean teases and Sam immediately bitchfaces him, leaving you giggling.
“It’s gonna be weird,” you muse, “the three of us have lived together for over ten years.”
Dean cooks his head, debating, “I guess it has been that long.”
“Well,” Sam reaches in his back pocket, pulling out folded sheets of paper, “that’s also why I found this.”
You open up the sheets, seeing two houses, and Sam starts explaining, “Both of the houses are about ten miles from here, outside of town, and the properties are back to back.”
You press a kiss to Dean’s cheek, “What do you think?”
He catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply. Pulling back, he smiles softly, “I’m wondering why we’re still talkin’ about it.”
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Text
Sacrifice
Romeo got nowhere with the Leader, and eventually opened the door and left him alone. He left it open behind him and left the Leader visible, just so he could see his work. Jesse was the first to notice him.
"Damn, Romeo. Feel better?" Jesse snarked to Romeo who chuckled and wiped his hands on his pants.
"Quite. If anyone else would like to take a go, he's all yours," he offered.
"Maybe later. Any more and he might die on us." Jesse studied the beaten Leader from a distance, surprised that he still showed no emotion.
"So, anything?"
"Lukas is still on the phone with Reginald. They're... Trying. Not only is it hard talking to the secret service, but the connection is also really bad in here and it's land-line so, the keep breaking up and having to re-call.”
“Really? That’s harder than speaking with the secret service?”
“Ehh yeah. Yeah.”
Romeo snorted a laugh and sat down at the table where both the Witherstorm page and the translated copy were laying.
“Oh- it was translated?”
“Oh, yeah- Not by any of us though. Luckily we’ve got some great connections. That whole blog thing? Really helping us out,” Jesse replied, sitting across from him.
“Who did it?” Romeo paused for a moment, “Their handwriting is very neat. And they worked... Quite quickly.”
“One of our contacts named Zone. She's very quick at this stuff, apparently. She beat Yellow to it," Radar spoke up from where he was sitting, "She must do that stuff for like, a living? I think Gil's mentioned her sometime too."
"Hm. Respects to Zone. That's good work-" Romeo tapped the paper and moved it aside, "And quite efficient. Easy to read. Accurate. Next time you speak with her, send my compliments. This is... Quite helpful."
As Romeo was taking his hand back, Jesse quickly noticed the bloodied marks on Romeo's knuckles that hadn't seemed to go away.
"Is that the Leader's blood, or yours?" he asked, snatching one of Romeo's hands before he could pull it away.
"Agh- probably mine, Jesse. I'm not used to so much punching. Believe it or not, the Leader's face is solid, and it kinda hurts to hit. But it was worth it, I can say without question!" Romeo drew his hand back and rubbed over his still stained knuckles with the other hand. He wasn't used to anyone else worrying.
Jesse got up without saying anything else, and left to go over and talk to Axel. For a moment, Romeo thought he’d upset him somehow, but Jesse came back moments later and sat this time beside him. He took Romeo’s hand again and gripped it as a way to tell Romeo not to jerk away.
They stayed silent, Romeo letting Jesse do what he needed. After a few minutes, Jesse let go of him, and Romeo pulled his hands back to see that Jesse had wrapped around his knuckles tight in bandages. He quirked an eyebrow and glanced up to Jesse.
“What? It’ll help it heal faster,” Jesse paused for a moment before cracking a light grin, “Besides, you’re not the bloody knuckles type of guy. It doesn’t match your image.”
Romeo chuckled and rubbed over the bandages.
“Thank you, I suppose you’re right."
“Yeah, you’re more of a clean and crisp businessman, right? I always got that vibe from you.”
“I try to be, yes,” Romeo folded his hands in his lap and cleared his throat quietly, “However working with so much oil at times can be a bit ruining to that appearance.”
“I would think so. But you don’t really work with machines a lot, do you?”
“Well—not necessarily. Yet the entire vault is filled with them. You can’t really even walk through there without getting some dirt on you,” Romeo brushed his vest, making the wiping motion as an extra theatric.
“Now you’re just being dramatic, it can’t be that bad,” Jesse waved it off with a smirk.
“You’ve got a bit of grease on your face still, Jesse. I can assure you it’s because you walked through the vault one solid time.”
“No, that was because I rescued you from underneath an attack helicopter,” Jesse wagged a finger at Romeo, who laughed and leaned back in his seat.
“Oh, fair, but I’ll prove this to you. Once we get back to the vault, I’ll show you how, with me doing nothing, I can somehow get dirtied in the vault. I don’t know how, but I promise you it happens.”
“If you say so, Rom,” Jesse grinned and leaned against the table, resting his head on one hand. Romeo smiled at the nickname. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course, but it felt nice just genuinely chatting with someone else. Be it it was his said rival, that didn’t matter. It felt nice being a person again.
For a while they sat in silence, before Lukas finally put the phone down. The clack of the phone brought everyone out of their dazes.
“Well, we’ve got nothing so far. Reginald is doing his best but it takes a lot to persuade the president,” Lukas sighed and walked over to the table before sitting down and leaning his head on his hand.
“Well, at least they’ve been notified of the situation. They should get help soon,” Yellow piped up a reply.
“I hope so. I don’t trust that this leader guy will comply to being captured for very long and the longer he’s here the more anxious I get.”
“I’ll go check on him and make sure the chains are right,” Yellow said, getting up, “Better safe than sorry.”
“Be careful.. I don’t trust him,” Riot spoke up this time from where he was watching the cameras with Olivia.
“Don’t worry, Riot, I’ll be fine, he’s chained up and is probably still out of it from whatever Romeo did to him,” Yellow’s tone didn’t change, but he gave Riot an assuring look before he left the room. Riot leaned back against the wall and watched him go. All he could remember was the first attack on their apartment. He didn’t trust Yellow anywhere near the Leader.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Yellow, it was just that he didn’t trust Yellow’s mindset. After everything that’d happened, and with the Witherstorm’s clear knowledge of Yellow as a potential threat, Riot logically thought that the two needed to stay as far away from each other as possible.
However there Yellow went, going to face the Witherstorm Leader to the face. The room separated Yellow from the others, and Yellow stopped only a few feet from the chair where the Leader was propped up still sitting tall. His head was dipped only slightly, and tilted upwards to give Yellow a passive glance.
Yellow had to control his own impulses, and went around behind the chair to tighten the chains and make sure they were all locked tight.
~~~~
Orion knew who he was, just upon instinct. This was Yellow. He had to remind himself that he was buying time, and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He glanced over to the window, where light was pouring into the room, and leaned back against the metal chair. He felt the chains tighten against his chest and into his wrists, pressing him back even further.
Yellow came back around to the front and stopped just in front of Orion. He seemed to be containing something inside: heavy, heavy emotions, difficult to hold back. He lifted Orion's gaze to meet his, and Orion shot him a light look. Yellow didn't flinch, he didn't recoil, he barely showed a response. This caught Orion by surprise.
"You won't drop your appearance, will you?" Yellow said after a moment, nonchalantly and almost bored. His accent also caught Orion off guard. It was almost an obnoxious change from what he was used to.
Orion grumbled and turned his head aside, looking away from Yellow.
"I cannot wait to be rid of you. Maybe then can I start to heal. For now, I have to keep all this anger stored in me. But that's OK. Maybe one day I'll be able to take it all out on you. Luckily for you, they want you alive," Yellow stepped off to the side and scowled.
Orion chuckled to himself. This implied Yellow would be able to kill him, which was a foolish thought. He glanced back to the window, only to catch a quick glimpse of a figure, a shadow, poking through the rays of light. Yellow's back was turned, and Orion squinted for a better view.
Lukas waved from the window, his goggles and mask pulled over his face. Lukas signed to him from where he was, hoping Orion could see him.
"Can you escape? I'm going to create a diversion to get everyone off your back. Use the window on the high right to get out to the roof and split from there. We can meet back at the ED."
Orion understood, and nodded, before Lukas's figure disappeared from the window. He could finally free himself. In all honesty, he was expecting Ranger, as the usual rescue missions go, but wasn't disappointed to see Lukas. In fact, he was a bit excited. Lukas in action was something he'd been wanting to see since the first time they'd met.
In about a split second, Orion dug his heels into the ground and, with one brash jolt upwards, jerked and shattered the chains binding him. Metal chain links tinked against the ground everywhere, and Orion brushed the shattered chain from off of his lap. Yellow whipped around only for Orion to grab him by the neck and slam him up against the metal wall. He lifted him off his feet, ignoring the kicks and not losing eye contact.
~~~~
Yellow choked against the man's grip and tried desperately to kick away, but felt himself going out anyway. There was a loud cry from the doorway, and Riot ran in, not wasting any time before hitting the Leader as hard as he could over the head with a metal beam. The Leader dropped Yellow to the ground and turned to Riot instead.
Yellow dropped into a coughing heap on the metal ground, a hand to his throat as he tried to recover. All the Leader needed to do was get a good grip on Riot's head before delivering a harsh punch to the jaw to knock him clean out. He dropped Riot, watching with light content as he crippled to the ground, unconscious. Yellow pushed himself to his feet shakily, ready to make an attempt to attack, but he felt a hand shove his head into the wall and everything immediately went black.
Jesse was the next to notice the Leader as he came out of the room. He watched him grab the nearest pistol and raise it directly at him. For a second, he expected to feel the sharp pain of a bullet in his chest, but it never came. There was a different cry, and it took a moment for Jesse to realize his eyes were closed, and when he opened them, glancing down at his own chest and seeing there was no wound, no blood.
He looked up, only to see his own rival standing far in front of him, almost exactly between him and the Leader. Romeo stood still for a moment before dropping onto his knees, and Jesse suddenly knew what happened. He didn't even get a chance to cry his name before the Leader shot two more times, this time aimed directly at Romeo.
Romeo fell forwards, and the Leader held his ground, the pistol at the ready to fire at anyone else who dared move.
Jesse wanted to run, not to attack, just to get to Romeo, just to make sure he was alive, but even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He was frozen. He felt nothing but pure shock. For some reason, he felt as though he'd just watched a long-time friend die, right in front of him.
Then everything went from bad to worse as the sound of a window shattering was heard, and electric arrows almost rained down on the group. None hit, but they made their point, and the team scattered. Lukas caught sight of the Leader making a run for it, and ran after. He followed him up and out of a window near the roof, and they both left the warehouse. The arrows soon ceased right after.
Jesse ran right to Romeo, followed by Gil.
"Romeo!" he rolled Romeo onto his back, the three bullet wounds clear, however all missing Romeo's heart.
Romeo coughed and shifted uncomfortably, moving one hand over his chest. He had a stream of blood dripping down his chin, and there was already a puddle of blood where he'd been laying.
"Jesse, Jesse it's ok-- go catch them.. You're good at that... Rooves, it's your specialty, go catch them..." Romeo pushed weakly at Jesse, moving him away and motioning him to start the chase. Jesse knew he had to. He didn't want to, but he did, and turned to climb to the window the arrows came from.
Gil was left with Romeo as others slowly gathered, trying to get him as much help as possible. Olivia and Petra found the unconscious bodies of Yellow and Riot and helped get them out as well. Gil glanced back at the window that Jesse left from, hoping that he'd make it back soon. His hopes weren't very high.
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edsbev · 6 years
Note
Random teen Au Idea: the losers are all at Richies house and they decide to play a drinking game. It’s all fun until they realize Eddie hasn’t drank before. So they find out he can’t really hold his booze. He kinda dozes off. Richie let’s Eddie have his bed and makes a bed on the floor. When he comes back up with pillows Eddie makes him lay with him. Turns out Eddie is clingy when drunk and cuddles Richie all night. Mumbling things like “I love you” (andrichieishearingallofthisforthefirsttime)
ok so. i wrote a dumb lil thing for this. and by that i mean i wrote 3.4k of nonsense that have literally no point but anyway this was just rlly cute and i love drunk eddie so! here’s this. (i kinda changed it up a lil hope thats ok)
"Hey, Rich," Mikesays, from where he's sat on the floor. "Got any snacks?"
They're in Richie's basement,or, Richie's parents basement, because he's seventeen and still has to legallylive under the same roof as an adult. It's alright, aside from his dad's badpuns and his mother's scatterbrained tendencies, it's cool. Because his parentslet him have his friends over when they're not around.
So right now, Mike Hanlon issitting cross-legged on the old dusty, circle-printed rug. Looking forlornly atthe clutter of empty bowls on the wooden coffee table.
Of course, he's not the onlyfriend here. Beverly Marsh is shifting around on the orange couch (the entirebasement has a stuffy, cluttered 70s feel, with all its warm tones, woodenpaned walls and orange and green patterns) and she almost kicks Ben Hanscom inthe face as she sticks her feet up over the back of the seat, her head danglingabove the floor.
"I think the real questionis," she says, grinning at Richie. "Is whether or not he has anybooze."
From the loveseat, with his legstucked neatly beneath him, his fair curls touched by the orange light of thelamp beside him (one of the only bright things in this dank, dark basement,aside from the small, fuzzy box TV, which bathes a pleasant blue glow overMike's skin), Stanley Uris makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat.  
"We're not stealingRichie's parents’ alcohol and getting drunk in Richie's basement," hesays.
"You w-wanna get drunksomewhere else?" asks Bill Denbrough, from where he's leant against Ben'slegs on the floor, a crooked grin on his mouth.
Stan gets a very pinched look onhis face, and he glares at Richie, like this is somehow his fault.
"We can steal someoneelse's booze too," Richie adds, and Bev laughs in a way that's just aclear and sharp "Ha!" and Bill snorts and Stan neatly but angrily foldshis arms across his chest.
"That's not what Imeant."
Richie grins. He stands behindthe orange couch, so he can see them all, and because he had gotten up at somepoint to actually go grab snacks, and got distracted along the way. And now hetaps his fingers along the cushions, gives Bev's ankle a playful tug, and turnsto face his sixth and smallest, but also best, friend. Eddie Kaspbrak. Who'sbeen poking around with Richie's dad old record player and ignoring everyoneelse.
"What do you reckon, Eds?"
Eddie startles. Pulling his handaway from the record needle. He gives Richie a wide-eyed look, big brown eyesglinting gold in the lamplight, like he's been caught doing something wrong. Ofcourse, he hasn't done anything wrong, aside from tune out the group for thepast five minutes, lured over by the sight of Richie's dad broken record playerand his desire to tinker and fix things - he just has a perpetual wide-eyedlook, on account of his eyes being round and doe-like. Richie has told Eddiethat he finds it adorable on many occasions, but in a joking, light-hearted waythat is easy for Eddie to dismiss with the wave of his hand. Truth is though,Richie really does find Eddie adorable. Doe-eyes and freckles and fluffy hairand all.
"Um," says Eddie, gazeflickering from Richie to the group - who are now all waiting for his response.His hand still hovers half way to the record needle, like he'd much rathertinker around with that than join in on whatever the rest of the Losers aredoing. "Yeah, sure."
Richie immediately breaks out ina grin, and Eddie jolts a little - like a frightened mouse - as Richie swingsaround to face the others. "Here that, ladies and gentleman!" He ismet with only one smiling face, being Bev. "Eddie is all for the booze!"
"Wait, no-"
"Wait right here, folks,I'll be right back."
"Richie!"
Richie ascends the stairs two ata time, cackling. The sound of footsteps chases after him.
Of course, it's Eddie. Richieslides on his socks along the floorboards to the kitchen, and he can hear Eddieyelling at him. Something about Richie being a dumbass, the usual stuff. Hestumbles into the kitchen, crouches by the bottom cupboards, and tears open thedoors just as Eddie catches up. Richie grips the handle to keep his balance onhis bent toes, and looks up over the cupboard door at Eddie, who is standingbehind it - the top of the door reaching Eddie's waist, because he's small (ha)-and glowering at Richie with all the heat his perpetual wide-eyes can muster.
"Is there a problem, mydear Spagedward?" Richie asks sweetly.
"Fuck the booze,Rich," Eddie says.
"Kinky." Richiereaches into the cupboard and pulls out the first bottle he gets his hands on.Red wine. Gross.
"Seriously, put the alcoholaway," Eddie continues. Richie continues to rummage through the cupboards,the sound of glass bottles clinking together. "I didn't consent tothis."
"Oh, come on, Eds,"Richie says. He pulls out another bottle. White wine this time. Better butstill gross. He holds it up toward Eddie and Eddie takes it without thinking."You love a good drink."
"No." Eddie snorts."I fucking don't."
Richie reaches right into theback of the cupboard, so far that his shoulder hits the underside of thecounter top. He turns his head to side and watches Eddie, who looking at thebottle of wine in his hands like it holds poison. A crease between his brows,the corner of his mouth tugged down in a frown. Richie's always liked hismouth. But that's beside the point. The point is, Eddie looks, in that moment,completely adverse to alcohol. And now Richie is having an epiphany of sorts,thinking back through every hazy drunk memory and not finding Eddie in any oneof them.
"Eddie," he says, andhis eyes widen and his mouth gapes open in a bit of an asshole smile but hecan't help it. "Have you...never had alcohol before?"
Eddie almost drops the bottle.Scrambles to clutch it close to his chest, his cheeks and the tips of his earsturning pink. He stutters over an answer, but it's pointless. Richie gets thatswelling feeling in his chest that people usually feel when they win thelottery or some shit.
"Oh my god."
"Richie -"
"I can't believe I neverrealised -"
"It's really not a big deal-"
"Yeah but you've never -"Richie breaks off when he notices the way Eddie averts his gaze, face growerredder by the second, and Richie feels something close to compassion."Hey," he says, voice two shades softer, drawing those doe brown eyesback toward him. "We don't have to drink, if you don't want to."
That must be the wrong thing tosay, because Eddie's face hardens around the edges, jaw tightening, a sharplook in his eye, and he scowls. "Don't baby me," he says.
"Eddie, you literally saidbefore that you didn't want to drink. I wasn't -"
Eddie ignores him, locking hishand around the neck of the wine bottle in a white-knuckled grip (Richiedoesn't miss the way Eddie's eyes dart to Richie's own neck, like he'simagining his hand wrapped around that instead). "Get your fucking booze,Trashmouth," he snaps, already turning to leave. "We're doingthis."
"Hot," Richiewhispers to himself, eyes trained to Eddie's back as he walks off. He has tostop himself from appreciate at the sight. Instead, he snatches up two morebottles and chases after him.
And that's how they all ended updrunk in Richie's parent's basement.
Well, actually, there was a stepbefore that. Important step. Being the game of 'Never Have I Ever' that they'dplayed, at Bev's insistence. They usually play it by just counting off on theirfingers, and Richie always fucking loses. Though, technically, in that game losingis basically winning. Eddie and Stan always argue that the last left should bethe winner (mostly because they're always the last left) and Richie just reallyfucking likes winning. And so a couple rounds in he'd swirled around thecontents in his bottle, looked up at Eddie slyly through his lashes, and said,"Never have I ever not been drunk before tonight."
"What?" Bev hadsnorted, bottle already poised at her lips (because she was so use to drinkingafter every turn), but Richie tuned her out, zeroing in on the unimpressed lookEddie was simmering his way.
He'd held eye contact withRichie as he placed the lip of bottle to his mouth, tipped his head back, andtaken a shot. It'd taken less than a second, but Richie's mind decided tostupidly play it all in slow motion. The way Eddie's lips circled around thebottle, the way the light bathed golden over his neck, shadows dripping downinto the hollow of his throat and pooling in his collarbones, the way hisAdam's apple bobbed.
HOT screamed Richie's hormonal, teenage brain. Then Eddieconvulsed, expression pinching in disgust at the taste. And Richie softenedinto something more endeared.
"Fuck you," Eddiesaid, wiping his mouth. "Never have I ever had the name Richie."
"Eddie, it's not yourturn," Ben supplied nicely.
"It's okay," Richietold Ben, though he kept his eyes on Eddie. They were both staring at eachother, still, in an unwavering, daring sort of way, and Richie wasenjoying it a lot. Richie grinned, and took a swig.
And they'd gone on like that,competitive streaks taking over, targeting each other with every turn, untilthe other Losers had finally decided to pull the plug.
And that's how they'dended up drunk in Richie's parent basement.
Only thing is, Richie is prettygood at holing his liquor. Years of sneaking off and getting drunk with Bevdoes that to a person. So he's feeling more pleasantly buzzed than anything,kinda jittery in his fingertips and uninhibited in his mind. Free and easy.
And Eddie.Well. He seemed okay at first. Talking a little fast and loud to Ben about theold record player while Richie and Mike ambled off to get snacks. But by thetime Richie and Mike get back, bowls of chips in their hands, Eddie has dozedoff on the couch.
"He okay?" Richieasks, setting his bowl down on the coffee table. Eddie looks like he simplydrifted off sitting up, his back slumped against the back of the couch and hischin tilted down towards his shoulder. Bev has settled next to him, and shetugs off her jacket and carefully places it over Eddie's chest.
"Yeah, he's alright,"she replies. "Just a little drunker than we thought."
Richie nudges Eddie's knee withhis own; Eddie stirs, makes a little 'hrrmph' noise, and tries and fails tolift his head, before falling back asleep.
"Good to see you're stillalive," Richie says. Then he flashes Bev a look like what should I dowith him?
"He can't go home likethis," Bev points out.
"Yeah, no shit."
"That can't becomfortable," Mike says, joining Richie's side, eyeing the awkward angleof Eddie's titled neck. Richie sighs, runs a hand through his hair. By thestairs, Bill jingles his keys and lifts his hand in a parting wave, beforeleaving, followed by Stan. It's only a reminder of how late it's getting - hisgaze finds the little window near the ceiling to his left, and it's a rectangleof black, tinted with grey moonlight.
"Ah, fuck it," Richiesays. "Guess Eddie's sleeping over tonight." And then he ducks down,slides a hand under Eddie's knees, the other under Eddie's back, and lifts himup bridal style.
He almost tips right over,because he's not particularly strong, but the good thing is that Eddie is notparticularly heavy, and Richie gains his footing again easily. Brings Eddieclose up to his chest, Eddie's head lolling against Richie's shoulder withanother little 'hrrpmh' noise. Richie squashes down a smile at how cute it is.
"Where are you takinghim?" asks Bev.
"I'll let him sleep on mybed," Richie explains, already crossing the room. "Then I'll comedown and we can watch that movie you were talking about. Don't eat all thechips while I'm gone."
"You're gonna carry him upthe stairs?" Bev calls after him.
"Uh, yeah? I'm fuckingripped, Bev."
And well, he almost drops Eddietwice, and takes three times as long to ascend the stairs as he normally does,but Richie makes it to the top with the two of them still intact.
Then, it's just a matter ofgetting him into Richie's room and lying him carefully on Richie's rumpledsheets. He tugs Eddie's shoes off, reaches over and plumps the pillows, and ashe pulls away, he almost misses the fact that two brown eyes are staring up athim.
"Hey." Richie smilesdown at Eddie's sleepy face, the curls that fan over Richie's dark pillow, thelittle crinkles by Eddie's eyes as his smiles back.
"Did you..." Eddiepauses, smushes half of his face into Richie's pillow, but Richie can still seethe way his smile turns cheeky, a glint in the brown eye that still looks athim. "Did you carry me up the stairs?"
"What -" That was thelast thing Richie was expecting. Eddie cackles at the startled look on Richie'sface, smothering it down into his pillow. "Yeah, I did actually."
"With those noodlearms?" Eddie asks, voice rising an octave through his laughter. He lookslike a little rumpled gremlin, giggling to himself, curled up on Richie's bed.It's annoyingly cute.
"Look, if you're just goingto bully me - " Richie turns to leave, only half meaning it. There's thesound of sheets rustling and then warm fingers curling around Richie's own andwith a rushed, "Wait!" Eddie pulls Richie back toward him.
Richie stumbles, spinningaround. His knees hit the side of the bed, and he looks down at Eddie who isnow kneeling and looking up at him. And due to their height difference, there'sa fair gap between their faces, but there's only an inch between their bodies.When Eddie breathes in, brown eyes searching Richie's own, Richie feels asthough he's breathing in too.
"Wait," Eddie repeats,a lot quieter this time. He lets go of Richie's hand and slowly slides hisfingers up Richie's forearm. God, it's the softest of touches, but Richie'sbreath catches in his throat, and his skin sparks wherever Eddie fingertipsgraze him. And Eddie doesn't stop until his hand is resting on Richie's bicep,and somewhere in Richie's mind he's aware that Eddie is just being funny. Thathe's feeling up Richie's arms to determine how strong he actually is. But thesoft fluttering expression on Eddie's face says otherwise. And instead of a joke,or an insult, all Eddie says is, "Stay."
And, well, Richie doesn't needto be told twice.
He scrambles up onto the bed,climbing over Eddie with such fervor that Eddie starts giggling again. AndRichie knows that he's tipsy, and that Eddie is drunk, and that neither of themare thinking straight, but how can he pass up the opportunity to lie in bedwith the boy he's been crushing on since forever? Plus, when they both settledown, on their sides, facing in each other in the middle, Eddie reaches over andrests his hand on Richie's bicep again, and Richie's pretty sure he made theright decision.
Eddie shuffles over a littlecloser, shortening the gap between them, and draws circles into the flesh ofRichie's arm with his finger. Smiles mischievously. "Can I tell you asecret?"
Richie resists the urge to reachover and touch Eddie too. "Go ahead."
Eddie trails his finger upRichie's shoulder, then boops Richie's nose with it. Giggles. "I likebeing drunk."
"Yeah?" Richie asks,amused.
"Yeah." Fuck, the wayhis eyes crinkle at the sides when he laughs, how his little nose scrunches up,and his lips part to show a row of perfect white teeth...it's so fucking cute.Richie feels a physical pain in his chest, lying there looking at him."I feel so...free. Like I could do anything. Like I could...I could kissyou or something."
Oh. Oh.
Eddie captures his bottom lip upbetween those perfect teeth, searches Richie's face with curious, excited,eyes. "Do you want to kiss me, Richie?"
Yes. Richie's mouth goes dry.Heart hammers. Yes. He does. He so, so does. Wants to lean over and press hismouth to Eddie's mouth, slides his lips over Eddie's lips, cup Eddie's face,thumb pressed over Eddie's freckles, roll Eddie onto his back and draw littlegasps from his throat.
"I, um," Richie'svoice breaks, like a fucking tween going through puberty. He clears his throatand gives Eddie a crooked smile. "You're drunk, Eds."
"I want to," Eddiecontinues, like Richie hadn't spoken. "I want to kiss you. I think aboutit all the time."
Richie feelslike he's about to spontaneously combust. Eddie's drunk, he has toremind himself, as his hopes skyrocket into the ceiling, he's drunk hedoesn't mean this.
"I think about other thingstoo," Eddie whispers, suggestive.  
"Oh, god," Richiegroans. They are so not going there. Not right now, not like this."Eddie, you're so fucking drunk. We can't...I'm not gonna let you dosomething you'll regret."
A little crease cuts betweenEddie's brow, frowns. "So you don't want to kiss me?"
"No, I do -" Ohshit. Eddie's entire face lights up. Richie's entire face burns red. "I -I um. Fuck, Eddie, I'm not gonna kiss you while you're drunk, okay? I respectyou too much."
"Oh," says Eddieflatly, disappointed. Then he softens, and his hand finds Richie's cheek."Oh. Oh, Richie. You're so sweet." Brushes his thumb beneathRichie's eye. "Such a gentleman."
Richie snorts, his skin aflamebeneath Eddie's palm. "Shut up."
Eddie giggles, and then shuffleseven closer. Richie can feel their body heat burning up together in the slightgap between them, can feel Eddie's calf brush against his own. "Would youkiss me when I'm sober?"
"If you still wantto," Richie says, "then yeah. Yes. I would."
"Okay." Eddie beams.He pulls his hand away from Richie's cheek and nestles down into his pillow,closes his eyes. "Guess I better sober up then."
"You're going tosleep?"
"Yeah." Eddie nestlesdown into the mattress even further, shuffles even closer. Nudges his legsagainst Richie's, like he's trying to slot between them. "Cuddle me?"
And cuddling's okay, right? Ohwhatever, too late. Richie's already lifting his arm up and Eddie's pressinghis face into Richie's chest, head slotting perfectly beneath Richie's chin.Like he's made to be there. Richie wraps his arm around Eddie's back, holdinghim close. And he does something very self-indulgent. He presses his face intoEddie's hair. It tickles, soft and light against Richie's face, and it smellskinda fruity and sweet, a bit like apples. Richie inhales deeply, feels Eddiecurl an arm around his waist. And then he presses a kiss there, into Eddie'shair. So soft and quick it's barely a kiss at all.
But Eddie sighs contently, likehe feels that little expression of affection, and nuzzles his face intoRichie's chest happily.
"Night, Eds," Richiesays, gently. He's going to have to get himself out of here in a moment, onceEddie dozes off again, to meet back up with the others downstairs. But rightnow he's stupidly content, all wrapped up with the boy of his fucking dreams,feels floaty and light and tipsy and happy.
"Night, Richie," Eddiemumbles. He lifts his head sleepily to nose at the underside of Richie's jaw,and Richie curls his fingers into the back of Eddie's hair carefully, ready topull him off in case he tries to drunkenly kiss him or something, but Eddiedoesn't push it. Just noses there affectionately before burying his face backinto Richie's chest. "I love you."
"Yeah," Richie sighs, closing his own eyes, patting Eddie's head.
And then the words sink in.
His eyes snap open.
Wait - WHAT. 
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