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faetreides · 2 months

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MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them.

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more.

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head.

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream.

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out.

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time.

SHIT!

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often.

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own.

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have.

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother.

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath.

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure.

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better.

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age.

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders.

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him.

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him.

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future.

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes.

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you.

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation.

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat.

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them.

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions.

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face.

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly.

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…”

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister."

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs.

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize.

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera.

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards.

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors.

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse.

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s.

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach.

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight.

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders.

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now.

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in.

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down.

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out.

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body.

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south.

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher.

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air.

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations.

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs.

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind.

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart.

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger.

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh.

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length.

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue.

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow.

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table.

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father.

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms.

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up.

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks.

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you.

Friday morning was ushered in by two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping.

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

"It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face.

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on.

Fuck, not again.

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started.

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes.

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it.

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them.

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them.

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already.

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry.

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there.

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this.

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons.

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children.

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit.

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait.

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back.

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

Some say that means it’s love.

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies.

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else.

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.” He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day.

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.”

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”?

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you.

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner.

“I actually got you something myself, but uh, if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.”

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed.

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone.

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant.

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.)

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty.

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate.

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you.

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest.

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased.

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply.

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?”

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.”

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.)

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act.

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw.

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

“Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot.

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses.

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island.

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway.

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies.

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms.

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that.

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much.

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more.

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

#dividers by cafekitsune and roseschoices #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin smut #star wars x reader #mdni #tw dark content #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #⚰️.deaddove

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aliaology · 5 months

Text

IN BETWEEN

summary: just two people in love

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: just love 🤍

no one would ever be able to come between you and quinn hughes. that was not a regular ‘statement,’ it was a fact. you and quinn hughes were hopelessly in love with one another since you were freshmen.

freshmen year was when you and quinn met. you met him in your algebra class. he was seated in front of you and you couldn’t see a single thing due to him being there.

you tapped his shoulder softly. his body turned to look at you, confusion plastered across his face. embarrassed, you spoke,

“can you lean down slightly? i can’t see the board too well..”

quinns confusion turned to a soft smile. he nodded and leaned down slightly. you pushed the bridge of your glasses up further on your nose and began to write your notes down.

after that day, he would lean down the entire class so you could see. it became a thing he liked to do for you.

a week later, he turned to you.

“can i steal your notes? im behind in this class and i cant fail or im out of hockey for the season.” he asked desperately.

that was the first thing you learned about him. you nodded and handed him your notebook. he smiled and turned around, copying your notes into his notebook.

you started to hand your notes to him everyday, because you took notice that he barely paid attention anyways.

it didn’t take long for you both to become friends. he began to see who you were, you began to see who he was. you weren’t the pretty popular girl for nothing. you were kindhearted, you cared. you tried.

he wasn’t the hockey jock who hated everyone. no, he may not have been a people-person, but he was kind as well. he meant well no matter what.

plus, you loved his family. his brothers quickly became yours. his parents, quickly became your second set. his family became yours, and yours became his.

he loved your mom, she was the sweetest woman ever. he loved your other mom, shes where you got the smarts from. and he loved your ten year old brother.

you two adapted to one another, quickly becoming each others constant. you circled around him, he circled around you. no one could come between you two.

“oh please, he doesn’t answer me that fast.” you’d tell your girl friends.

your friend, priya, rolled her eyes. “yes he does! he barely lets it ring.” she told.

“call him, right now.” she instructed.

you felt flustered, but did what you were told nonetheless. you shakily held your phone in your hand, clicking on his contact and pressing call.

priya was right, because not even two seconds later did he answer. “hello?”

priya gave you a look. your eyes widened and immediately you put the phone up to your ear.

“hey, quinny, uhm— what time does practice end?”

it wasn’t until junior year that people could see how in love you two were. the way quinn would look at you with such a longing gaze. the way he would light up when your name was mentioned, even if it was technically about someone else. the thought of you made him joyful.

then there was the way you looked at him. how you stared at him a little bit too much longer than you should’ve. the way you would get excited hearing the word ‘hockey’ because you thought of him.

you two were inseparable. and finally, you two began to date in the middle of junior year. years of longing for dates, late night talks, kisses, were finally over, because you got them whenever you wanted.

your relationship with quinn was one for the books. he’d laugh at your eyes, your smile, at the glasses on your face, but not because he thought you looked weird or funny, but because he finally had you.

you loved listening to him at night, getting the side of him no one else does. you listen to him call you things that make your stomach erupt into butterflies. beautiful, gorgeous, funny, smart. hes never seen anything or anyone like you.

in the relationship, you were the bold one.

“im new at this..” he admitted, embarrassed.

you were his first real relationship. he was scared to mess up. he was scared you would run off, or find someone better.

but you’d hold his face with both of your hands and place a kiss onto his lips, reassuring him that he was all you wanted.

sparks would fly when you kissed.

you both lasted to present time. you were still so helplessly in love with him just like you were in highschool.

just like you thought, he was always there, until he wasn’t because he was on a roadie. you hated his roadies, having him leave.

you hate when hes away, scared something will happen while hes at a game. you were already scared shitless when you watched jack fall into the boards and sit out a few games. who knows how you’d feel if quinn were to get hurt.

he hates when you cry. you cry every night before he leaves for a roadie, scared. he holds you tight, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. he was also, so in love with you still.

but you still got what you wanted. more everything in between. you got the love you deserved, and so did he.

tags (perm): @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @outrunangelss , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @p3nislawd , @queenmendes !

#hockey #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #in between #vancover canucks #vancouver

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captainamericasmotercycle · 8 months

Text

I Think He Knows

pairing: remus lupin x reader

warnings: slight angst, fluff, remus being stupid, the marauders being the marauders

wc: 1.9k

a/n: when i come out of hibernation and post a fic 🫣

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Lily to be gossiping late at night in your dorm, however, it was uncommon for Remus to be stopping by to borrow a book this late at night. Usually he would wait until the morning, but something pulled him towards your dorm.

Your dorm room door was slightly ajar and he could hear the soft whispers and giggles coming from yours and Lily’s side of the room. He knew he should’ve knocked, but he couldn’t help himself from overhearing your conversation.

“Lily stop!” A string of giggles followed your comment. He listened in closer at the sudden remark from you.

“Okay, okay! But I know you have a thing for him!!” Remus’s heart sunk to his feet, of course you’d like someone else.

“Of course I do! You know I do! He’s just *so* perfect, Lily, not to mention gorgeous,” he just barely heard the last part, but if Remus’s heart could sink any further than it had, then it would. Even though he’d hoped that you would have any kind of romantic feelings for him, he didn’t count on it.

Now here he was, standing outside of your dorm like a creep, just trying to get some kind of contact with you.

He did not end up seeing you, in fact he doesn’t really want to see you right now.

He turned around to leave when he heard another shrill giggle.

“You think his pranks are funny?!”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I do. But how can you not??”

“It’s so childish!!”

Pranks. It’s James. You’re in love with James. Why wouldn’t you be? Captain of the quidditch team, prefect, gorgeous, and apparently show stopping hilarious.

Remus knew coming to your dorm was a bad idea in the first place and now he really regrets doing so.

His book can wait until tomorrow or quite literally never. How is he honestly going to talk to you ever again? He walked back to his dorm with his head sunken and his heart even more.

He walks slowly to his bed, now in a pissed mood.

“D’you get your book, mate?” Peter asks innocently from his side of the room, while arranging his blankets, however he seemed to have caught Remus in a funk, because Remus sends a pillow flying, hitting him in the head.

Remus lays down and covers his head with a blanket, not speaking another word to anyone.

Back in your dorm, only seconds after Remus booked it out of there, you and Lily are still gossiping, “Lily, I know he doesn’t feel the same way,”

“Remus is just shy, that’s all, I’m not sure he would be too confident to tell you about he feels, that’s why you need to say something.”

You huffed at her, “But I don’t want to, he’s just so amazing and perfect, I don’t know, just talking about this makes me want to die of embarrassment.”

“Stop, it’s not embarrassing,”

Marlene, from across the room, chips in to the conversation, “It is embarrassing how loud you lot are being right now, shut up and go to sleep.”

You and Lily rolled your eyes and shrugged her off before beginning to get ready for bed.

As you slipped under the covers, Lily whispered one more thing to you, “Tell him!”

It’s safe to say you would be overthinking until you fell asleep.

The next morning you knew something was up. Remus wouldn’t look at you or even stay near you anytime you came up to him.

He knows. He has to know. And now you’ve ruined your friendship with him because of a silly crush.

At dinner later that night, you walked into the Great Hall to where you normally sit. Remus was sitting across from James and Sirius and next to Peter. You sat down next to Remus, trying to rekindle your relationship with him.

Unfortunately this was also a spot across from James.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day,” James said through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I was running around school trying to figure out this potions project,”

Remus stands abruptly and storms out of the Great Hall.

James, Sirius, and Peter all share a confused look.

“What was all that about?” Peter looks at you.

“I don’t know, I think he’s upset with me, he’s been like this all day,” you shrug your shoulders and hang your head a little.

“Oh don’t I believe it, I’ve been caught on the wrong end of his attitude. ‘Bout chopped my head off over me asking to borrow a quill,” Sirius rolls his eyes.

James thinks, “Are we missing a full moon?”

“No, it was only 2 weeks ago,”

“I think he knows, you know, about my thing for him, why else would he be avoiding me?”

“I promise you he doesn’t know,” Peter comforts you, “He’s too oblivious to know, you could have your tongue down his throat and he would still think you lot are just friends.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you put your head in your hands.

“You’re fine, he doesn’t know,”

“I don’t know, I should go after him. Should I go after him?”

“Maybe we should just let him be for a minute.”

A minute turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned into a week, and any of you barely had any contact with Remus.

Until Friday night before the quidditch match, Remus hadn’t spoken a word to anyone and avoided you at all costs.

Before the game he stopped James as he headed into the team’s tent.

“James,”

“Hey, mate, see you’ve finally come to your senses and came to talk to me,” James said with a tinge of sass. To say James was upset at Remus was an understatement, James hated to be shut out by his friends.

“Just shut up and listen. She has this huge thing for you and you should know that, just in case she tries something tonight at the party, just be gentle with her,” Remus shoots out quickly, talking about you.

James looks at him like he’s batshit crazy.

“…What?”

“James I know you’re smarter than you look, you know who I’m talking about,”

“Yeah, I do, but there’s no way,”

“Yes there is, I heard her and Lily talking about you when I went to borrow that book,”

“Okay… are you sure?”

“As sure as the day is long.”

James pulled a face at him, “Okay, mate, yeah. Whatever you say.” He patted Remus on the shoulder as he walked into the tent.

Why was James being so sarcastic with him? Remus would do anything for your attention and affection. Remus brushed off James’ attitude and went to find a seat in the stands

He watched as the Gryffindor team came out of the tunnel and began the match against Hufflepuff.

Both you and James were chasers, Remus sat slumped in between Lily and Mary as he watched you and James fly close together.

In the air, far from the stands, James absolutely unloaded to you about what Remus had said to him before the match.

“I’m serious, I think he’s actually dense,”

“James be nice, he’s probably just not thinking straight,”

“I’m serious, he held me at the tent, telling me how much you are in love with me and how he overheard you and Lily,”

“Oh? What?”

“Yes when he came to borrow that book or whatever,”

“When? I haven’t even seen him all week?”

“It was Sunday night I think.”

Sunday? Sunday. You were talking about Remus. Not James. Merlin, he really is dense.

Neither of your attentions were really on the game anymore and the two of you had just been circling around the pitch passing around the quaffle.

You had Remus stressed. Why were you and James just talking? What are you talking about? This is the worst match he’s ever been to, he should’ve just stayed in his dorm.

Marlene circled around you and took the quaffle, “If you’re going to fly circles around the Hufflepuff players, at least score us some points. Talk about your gossip shit on the ground,” she shouted out.

Finally snapped back into it, you centered your focus on the game around you. How are you going to make this right?

The game ran longer than normal because of the close score, but Gryffindor had ended up catching the snitch, abruptly ending the match.

You and the rest of the team showered and headed to the Gryffindor common room, just ready to conk out on the couches, but alas, the Gryffindor common room never sleeps.

When you arrived, there was a bustling party. James, Sirius, and Marlene jumped right in, some of the other players went up to their dorms, but what could it hurt if you stayed down a bit longer?

You scanned the party for your close friends, mostly Lily. When you had found her, you dragged her off to a quieter part of the room and told her everything James had said on the pitch.

“I agree with James, he’s actually dense,” Lily rolled her eyes.

“Why would he think I have a thing for James? That’s outrageous!!”

“I don’t know, maybe you should talk to him,” she pointed over to where Remus was sitting on the stairs alone, only observing the party, swirling a cup of who knows what.

You approach him, but he didn’t seem to register it; he was lost in his own world.

“I heard you’ve been spying on me,” you say gently, but loud enough he could hear you over the music. He looks up at you and then down at his cup, his cheeks flushed.

“May I?” you point to the spot next to him and he nods.

“You know I think you really are dense,” he snaps his head at you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. How could you possibly think I like James?”

“You said- you said he was gorgeous and perfect and his pranks-“

“Yeah, I did say he was, but I didn’t say James was,”

“So it’s Sirius or Peter then?” He thought hard next to you, everything you said applies to all his friends.

“Merlin, you really are stupid.”

You roll your eyes at him and grab his shirt pulling him in closer to you. Your lips collide with his softly and he’s shocked, but gives in.

You pull away and he looks at you dumbfounded, “So you said all those things about me?”

“Do I need to make myself clear again?”

“Actually, I do think so,” he says with a smug grin.

You pull him in for another kiss, it’s safe to say he doesn’t think you like James anymore.

#james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin #remus is dumb #james potter #sirius being sirius #sirius black #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #lily evans #mary macdonald

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deathbyathousandspiders · 1 month

Note

So imagine a fic based off the song "boy in the bubble" by Alec Benjamin where reader gets in a fight on the way home from school the one time she doesn't walk with Peter. Preferably have her father be Tony Stark and he'd take place of the mother in the story.

first, i wanted to say that i loved writing this and i love song prompts :) i hope you enjoy this !!

second, i want to apologize to the anon who told me i better not disappear for months because oops–

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader, mentions of blood, mentions of pain/wounding, swearing.

✨masterlist✨.

3.6k.

Typically, stepping into your downtown apartment on a Friday evening would be more exciting for you. It meant that your week of stuck–up students and nerve–wracking tests could be long forgotten. It meant that you had the weekend to live freely from academic cages. At the beginning of that day, you would’ve thought today would be like any other Friday; with Peter accompanying you and your father for dinner like every week.

But Peter didn’t walk back with you.

Your tired limbs ripped from the floor with every step, hobbling out of the elevator with as much grace as you had room to carry. That room was slim, making space for the array of bruises and blood tainting your clothing. You carried the last bit of dignity you could, and tried to replace the sinister words spat at you from your attacker:

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

See, till now, you’d been grateful to be excused from the attention and popularity that accompanied your title. You didn’t care for followers or anything that catered to your birthright. Your father was your best friend, and you were lucky to be a Stark just to have his light in your life. However, there were some who weren’t like your classmates or peers — people who hated the Stark name, and wouldn’t rest until the family name died at their hand.

Tonight, you’d met the first of who knows how many. The thought alone sent a serpent–like shiver down your body.

And Peter wasn’t with you.

The fumes of Tony Stark’s cooking filled your senses as you limped further into your family room. You consciously knew you were late for dinner, but the pain throbbing throughout your body put that knowledge on the back burner. The sunset was just beyond the apartment windows, and it made you wonder whether Peter had beaten you to your own house or not. It was 6:48 after all, he was bound to be there.

You’d nearly forgotten that the subtle ping of the elevator doors announced your arrival. You heard your dad set down his spatula. “You kids are late.” He greeted, hollering from the kitchen. “I hope you two didn’t stop for Delmar’s on your way back!” You processed the undertones as your knees gave out, left hand pressing into the top of the sofa back.

White knuckles gripped onto your couch as you tried to gain your balance, wincing through gritted teeth. Your right arm remained hugging your abdomen, palm pressed onto a sore–spot on your torso. Every fiber in your body ached for some sense of relief. To sit down. You were a bit too stubborn for your own liking, trying to hike up the steps and get to your room without being spotted—

“Jesus Christ!” Your father cried from the archway of the dining room. You heard his hurried steps across the hard–wood flooring, almost too nervous to meet his eyes. He made his way over quickly, and the first thing you noticed through your periphery was the ‘kiss the cook’ apron he kept tied around his waistline. “Kid, what the hell happened?” Your dad crouched down beside you, finally locking eyes with you.

The cold air hitting your eyes made you realize just how quick the tears were welling. You swallowed the lump in your throat, whether it was sobs or embarrassment or dried blood from thrown punches. “I was jumped.” Your bottom lip trembled a bit before you mustered the words out.

Your dad scanned over your body, eying just how tattered your clothes were, and how much blood painted your outfit. His eyes glistened with a parental look— a look shimmering with something mixed of worry and sadness and anguish and apology. “And Peter wasn’t with you?”

That confirmed that your best friend, in fact, had not beaten you to your apartment.

And for some reason, it made things all the more worse. Your jaw clenched a bit, both of concern and frustration. Disappointment nagged at the corners of your lips as you shook your head. “No, he said he’d meet me here later.” Your imagination got the best of you, replaying your evening but if Peter actually had been with you. The thought alone made you shutter. “But it was probably for the best.”

“Did he say what he was doing?” The look in his eyes said something that he wasn’t communicating. They said something unspoken that made you feel like there were things that you weren’t being told.

You ignored it, feeling a surge of pain in your abdomen. A quiet hiss fought its way up your throat. “He didn’t. But it’s fine.” No, it wasn’t. “Peter can’t throw a punch to save his life.”

A laugh actually left your father’s lips. “You’d be surprised.” He muttered, his tone speaking the same tongue that his eyes were. There was definitely something that you didn’t know, but your intuition couldn’t place its finger on what.

It wasn’t your fault that you were oblivious to your best friend’s vigilante status. You were kept in the dark about what web–slinging activities Peter Parker kept behind closed doors. Tony and Peter kept it secret that you were best friends with Spider–Man. They hadn’t let the news slip yet, and Tony wasn’t about to. They both agreed it was in your best interest to keep you safe.

Apparently, their efforts weren’t enough.

Your eyebrow rose, trying to cut through the bullshit. “Are you kidding, Dad?” You asked, maintaining eye contact as your father rose from his crouched position beside you. “It’s Peter Parker we’re talking about here. He wouldn’t even kill a fly.”

Tony’s hands creased his hips, shoulders shrugging gently with his response. “I don’t know, hon. He told me May had him take Karate years back.” He didn’t leave time for a response as his eyes trailed back down to the developing bruises along your arms. Seeing the crusting crimson on his daughter’s body was a sight that made him lose his appetite. “I’ll go grab my medical kit. You’re lucky that Pepper taught me a thing or two before she got promoted.”

The room fell quiet as Tony put pause on dinner and soon rushed back over with a first–aid kit. You didn’t want to stain any furniture, so you managed to sit on a wooden coffee table until you were given further instruction.

It didn’t take long before your mind wandered off to worry about Peter, and what could be keeping him so long. He did tell you before you’d parted ways that he’d join you guys for dinner? Right? You swore that he told you he’d be there by 6:30, and even you were late. Thinking back to the details made you recall some harsh memories. Your wounds throbbed at the recollection of how they came to be, and the blood that was shed, and the words that were spat…

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark—”

“We should call Bruce.” Your dad’s voice of concern and reason brought you back to the moment. All you could do was stare. You hadn’t noticed that he’d started to examine your wounds, or just how defeated and pained for you he was.

The look made your stomach twist at the insults your own self–critic threw back at you.

Before you knew it, you were standing up, choking back a wince, fighting against yourself. “No! No– it’s just a few scratches. It’s fine.” Was it? Even though the pain was searing, and you wobbled as you stepped to the bathroom. Clearly your father was overreacting. He had to be. You weren’t weak.

Tony followed your footsteps, treading close behind in case you were to trip. “Hon, I’m serious! You look like you went through a paper shredder!”

You looked at him with a grimace, disbelief shone in your eyes. Almost as if he were calling you pathetic. “Don’t make it so intense! I’m sure it’s—” You halted. Everything froze. The air sucked right back into your lungs at the sight of your bloodied figure in the mirror. Flicking on the light, you couldn’t breathe.

The color palette that covered your body could’ve painted an entire canvas worth; the shirt you wore was hanging onto your shoulders with two threads and a miracle, not to mention the slashes at the thighs of your jeans. You’d nearly forgotten that your attacker had such a thick knife until you saw it— saw yourself. A shiver snaked down the length of your spine, leaving a splintering chill behind it.

It wasn’t until Tony turned off the bathroom light that you’d realized you were staring at yourself. He carefully grabbed your hand, leading you back into the living room. “We don’t have to call Bruce, but can I at least clean you up a bit?”

You didn’t have the words to respond to him. A nod was all you could muster before he sat you back down at the coffee table. “Should I– uh.. Should I shower first?”

Tony shook his head beside you. “Until I figure out if you need stitching, no.” He went to investigate the damage, but hesitated, trying to navigate an approach. “Sweetheart? You decent enough to take your shirt off? I could grab you a blanket if that would help–”

But before your dad finished his thought, you went to try and peel off your shirt. It was a lot more difficult than you thought. Painful, too. You were cold and hot and sweaty and sticky and pins and needles dug their way into your limbs each time they moved. You were grateful your dad didn’t even pause before assisting you. He grabbed his medical scissors, snipping off the sleeves of your top.

You and your dad were really comfortable with one another, so this didn’t bother you. You were more blinded by the burns and the harshness to each ache and blemish coating your limbs and torso. Daggers upon daggers of pins and needles sunk into your flesh, yet it hurt you the most to know that you had to present yourself so battered and bruised to your dad. It made you feel so…useless. So…pathetic.

A minute of silence passed, filled with nothing but pity and the sear in your eyes, holding back tears. You wanted to be strong. You needed to be strong. Showing weakness would mean that your attacker was right. Your throat burned, swallowing hard and pushing back your damaged narrative. The feeling of how feeble you felt.

The subtle ping from the elevator made your blood run cold. Your head snapped up to look at who entered the apartment, eyes wide and teary when they met the pair of Peter Parker. And the second he jogged out of the elevator, he stopped dead in his tracks. He gasped quietly, staring back at you with the same gaping eyes.

You didn’t see the way Tony glared at Peter from beside you, but you felt the way he’d stopped inspecting you. Peter walked closer, taking cautious steps as he minimized the distance. “What happened?” His voice was gentle, perhaps because he noticed the tears coating your cheeks.

Wiping your eyes, you realized your hands were trembling. Your whole body shook from the endured trauma, and you shivered like you were in the midst of a blizzard. Had you been shaking that whole time? You didn’t have time to overthink it. You felt like you were being whisked away into a whirlwind of panic.

Tony stood up, his expression crossed with some unspoken irritation. “I need to finish dinner.” His words were short. “Kid, could you help patch her up? She mainly just needs disinfectant.” There was no room for response from Peter before your father started walking. You didn’t see him leave, but you felt the gentle kiss he placed on your head before he left one final comment with Peter:

“And you and I are going to have a talk later.”

You weren’t sure what was going on with the two. Quite frankly, you weren’t sure what was going on in general. Shaking like this, being emotional like this, it was far from anything you were used to.

It felt like you were being violated, forced open, naked— and that wasn’t just because you were without a shirt. You felt exposed, and you couldn’t hide anymore. There was nowhere you could go and nothing you could do to shield from the fact that you were vulnerable right now.

Peter sat in front of you, kneeling so that you could see him. So that he could see you. “Hey..” His voice got soft, gentler, and somehow it broke you. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stop the way it shuttered. Metal lingered on your tongue and your throat felt hollow and thick with the cries you held back. But Peter was your best friend, and he knew you.

He knew how stubborn you were with your own emotions, and how guarded you kept yourself from showing that part to other people. He knew that you couldn’t hide forever, either. And maybe he’d figured that out when his right hand went to cradle your face, and the tears finally washed away the walls you’d been keeping up.

Somehow seeing him safe was your undoing. The downfall of the avalanche you’d been hobbling in attempt to support, but you couldn’t seal the dam anymore. The relief of knowing that Peter was unharmed, the ease to all your worries, it made you forget why you’d been trying to stop your tears in the first place.

Your body broke out into violent shivers the second you let it, and your shoulders shook with every sob. Peter didn’t say anything. He merely took you into his arms and held you to him, careful not to press against any wound. It terrified you to think about what would’ve happened had Peter walked home with you, unbeknownst to you that he probably would’ve protected you from any of this happening in the first place.

It took you a minute or two to cry it out before Peter set you back on the coffee table. It seemed effortless to pick you up, and that made you realize just how strong he was. Your dad was right, Peter did surprise you.

Peter knew exactly how to mend these kinds of wounds, too. Where did he learn? It might always be a mystery. Still, it came in handy now. He draped his zip–up jacket over your shoulders, before dabbing a cloth of rubbing alcohol against every cut on your torso. He was so focused. Tensed jaw and creased eyebrow, not wavering for a second until you gained the courage to ask him a question. You took a shaky breath.

“Peter?” You murmured, immediately grabbing his attention. Peter glanced at you, the cold glisten in his focused stare began to thaw when he did. He took a breath, perhaps needing to be broken from the train of thought he’d started to entertain. With his attention, you took another breath, nervous.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the coffee table with white knuckles. If you’d been any stronger, maybe you’d broken the table, or even your fingers. “Do you.. think I’m–” You had to suck in another chunk of air just to muster out that taunting, despicable word. “Weak?” Even in your efforts to say it straight, your voice broke in an instant.

Without a beat, his eyes met yours again and he stopped everything he was doing. “Weak?” He repeated back. “No.” The word was so instantly rejected, you’d almost felt stupid bringing it up in the first place. “You’re so far from weak, Y/N. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Your hands went to hide your face, too ashamed of how quickly you broke before him. From the solitude behind your fingers, you couldn’t see the way Peter also broke at the words. He wasn’t sobbing as you were, but he couldn’t help the sulking of his shoulders. Peter truly blamed himself for this. Setting down the rag, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “Anyone who thinks you’re weak is blind to who you are. That, or they’re idiotically stupid.” He spoke softly, pulling your hands from your face.

“You’re the most courageous person. The amount of bullshit you put up with, and the reporters you call out– Fuck, I can’t even imagine walking away from a fight like you did tonight..” His words of endearment warmed your heart. “You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak?” He shook his head. “Impossible.”

You and Peter stared for a beat or two before he stood up, carefully helping you to your feet. “I think you’re all set to shower. Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

Taking a breath, you took Peter’s words to heart. You got this. “I think I’ll be okay.” Ignoring the shakiness in your voice, you took paces to the stairwell. “If I’m not back in thirty, you have permission to make sure I didn’t pass out.”

Peter cracked a small smile at you, “Noted. Text me if you need anything!” He added the offer, to which he saw you nod to, and he caught a glimpse of your timid smile. He knew you’d be okay, but it still didn’t shake the weight of how to blame he was. The sound of Tony clearing his throat from the kitchen only seemed to remind him. And with a second clearing of his throat, Peter realized that Tony was trying to communicate.

Walking into the kitchen, Peter saw Tony leaned back against the counter, arms crossed with a cold stare. “Mister Stark, I–”

“Where the hell were you tonight?”

The tone changed the entire atmosphere. No amount of savory fragrances from the cuisine could take away from the fact that Peter was in trouble.

Peter’s shoulders squared at the intensity carried with Tony’s aggravation. He took a breath, pausing in the doorway. “Sir, there was an armed–”

Tony’s fist met the marble counter in a startle. “Damn it, Pete!” Kid couldn’t get a word in if he tried. “Damn it, you had one job!” His index finger went up to emphasize his point.

“What was I supposed to do??” Peter felt like he was fighting a losing battle. “I had no idea what was going to happen!” In the midst of his hushed defense, his voice broke a bit from the weight of his guilt. “Mister Stark.. I think it’s time we tell her.”

A scoff was what Peter was met with. A rush of air caught on Tony’s disbelief, throat, and dismissal. “We’d tell Y/N what? That you’re Spider–Man? That we’ve been lying for this long?”

It was a tough call, and Peter knew that. Peter also knew that Tony couldn’t keep this shit up any longer than he could. “She deserves to know!” He planned to plead his case. “Whoever attacked her tonight planned this. It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–”

“You don’t know that—”

“And you don’t either!” Peter wasn’t about to get cut off again. He let out some of the steam he’d began to bottle. “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened. And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

As much as the two had raised their voices, or grown to anger, they let the reality of the evening sink into the space between them. The thickened air sat within the walls as they both took a breath and collected themselves. Tony’s expression melted, and he finally reached over to turn off the stove.

Dinner was almost ready.

The back of Tony’s hips met the marble countertop behind him, supporting his weight as he crossed his arms, looking at Peter sympathetically. “Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.”

A weight or two instantly lifted from Peter’s guilty–conscious. “I know.” He lied.

Tony’s lips curled ever so slightly at the hasty quip. “As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.”

There was a subtle sinking to Peter’s mending optimism. “Then when do you plan to tell her?”

A pause. Tony sighed, releasing a breath he’d been holding since Peter’s spider bite. “I don’t know..” Genuinity. Tony’s paternal protocol kicked in, and he wasn’t sure how to navigate it entirely.

On the one hand, his daughter deserved to know the truth. You deserved to know the truth. His wisdom and knowledge was such a curse when it came to fatherhood, because while being honest was what his role as a father called for, logic came right back to remind him of just how many lies were piled on top of each other. What if there was no coming back from this?

Tony shrugged, appearing more open to the idea of being truthful. “I’ll tell you what.” He started, “You tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

“Peter’s what?”

Ice. The room turned to ice too quickly, both Tony and Peter snapping their heads to look at you in the doorway. They hadn’t noticed you’d been listening. You’d been standing there for who knows how long, considering that you hadn’t even showered yet.

Both of the men in front of you exchanged glances of sheer panic before Tony cleared his throat to get your attention. He held up the frying pan, looking you dead in the eyes with the most false–confidence you’d ever seen your father carry.

“Dinner’s ready.” His voice cracked.

Yeah, there was absolutely no coming back from this.

204 notes · View notes

00ops1e · 10 months

Text

taskforce 141 + könig x sick! reader

warnings: emetophobia trigger warning, mentions of puking/being sick, fluff, hurt/comfort maybe??, not proofread a/n: omg here it is. the first cod thing ive written! but not actually theres some filth hiding in my documents. this is totally lowkey a self insert. geared towards female! reader but if you squint at the petnames could be gn. i've been so so sick lately and tbh scares me a lil but what cant be fixed by fictional men?? nothing.

Ghost

A little bit of a germaphobe

Will take off his mask, but replace it with a medical mask

Only so he can still hold you, just with a peace of mind

He does NOT want to get sick too

Because then how could he take care of you?

Always has a puke bowl at the ready

Orders your favorite takeout, even if you don’t feel like eating

Because hes a firm believer in leftovers.

Which may just be the cause of this

But you'd never tell him. poor man would get so guilty he had forgotten to throw it away.

Puts on a movie and lets you fall asleep on his chest

I feel like he’s a cold-blooded type of person, doesn’t generate much heat

but makes up for it in comfort

so many blankets

so so many.

Checks your temperature in your sleep

Lowkey counts respirations just to be sure

Makes sure you keep hydrated

Will bring you to urgent care if he’s really worried

No matter how much you protest!

Soap

Squeamish when it comes to throwing up

Will try his very best to stay with you, but sometimes ends up running from the room

Because the last thing he'd wanna do is gag at you

While hes ran away he gets a cold rag to press on your forehead, and clean you up a bit in the process

"yer hidin? awh bonnie i wasnt meanin' to embarrass ye" he says while taking your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes

"sickness and health yeah? i wanna take care of you"

Insists on rubbing vicks/ vaporub on you

Not because hes a little perv (he is)

But because he loves you and the sniffles break his little heart

peppers kisses across your collarbones, vicks smell clogging his nose

but he’s too focused on the goosebumps that rise on your skin, your little shivers

“Awh, my poor sick lass,”

Constantly checking for a fever

Forcing you to stay in bed, even after you feel better, “not takin chances, rest up.”

this man on the other hand is a human space heater

throwing a blanket on and off the two of you, getting too hot and then shortly after too cold.

not as convenient when it’s hot out lol

head rubs

Gaz

Tries to bring you to a doctor/ urgent care immediatley

Will try to call an ambulance over a slight fever

Stocks up on pedialyte/makes sure youre hydrated

Cuddles constantly, does not care if he catches anything

loves being the big spoon so he can lay in the crook of your neck and still hold onto you tight

Has extra blankets on deck

entertains you with silly little jokes

but then apologizes while giggling because you laughed so hard it hurt a little.

Will feed you cold medicine/tums

teases you when you complain about taking them

“i don’t need you gettin any grumpier love”

Will hold back your hair/ stroke your back while youre getting sick

gets offended when you get embarrassed about it

“are you judging my girl?” he teases you

Tries his best to cook, but lowkey fails miserably

Resorts to cup of noodles and lipton packets.

Price

Such dad vibes

Will make soup or other comfort foods from scratch

And his cooking skills are unmatched

Runs you a shower/bath and washes your hair for you

back rubs and massages

pressing small kisses to your shoulders as he works

also a human heater but not too hot, just the perfect temperature

also just the perfect shape to spoon you, cradling every inch of your body

“I hate it when my baby’s sick,” he says, rubbing soft circles into your side

Doesnt even have to make a pharmacy run because hes so well prepared

Feeds you medicine, on the dot, every few hours after it wears off

(he totally sets reminders in his phone. [typing like an old person with reading glasses on])

Will stay in bed all day with you, quietly typing and mumbling to himself while you nap at his side

occasionally leaning down to kiss your forehead while he works

the computer goes away as soon as you wake up

"how're you feeling princess?"

loves having you in his arms, pulled close to his chest

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep on the couch (bridal style ofc)

Will hold your hair back, refuses to leave your side

“Of course youre not gross darling, we all get sick,”

Konig

rubs your back as you're hunched over the toilet

will sit down with you on the floor, back up against the bathtub when its too much of a risk to leave the bathroom

just wants to keep you company :(

"take as long as you need, liebling"

fills up the tub while still convincing you to get in

he promises you'll feel better after

caves and offers to join you as a last resort to get you cleaned up

Long baths, cuddling in the warm water

Letting the steam clear your sinus

Brushes and braids your hair

when you start feeling better but are still running a fever, hes worried.

but youre dealing with a burst of energy and simply must start with the housework

konig will put you over his shoulder and escort you back to bed

will paint your nails in bed to entertain you, anything to keep you still and in bed

Lets you put your cold feet on him, but only when you dont feel good

totally unprepared because i feel like this man has an immune system of steel

makes a quick pharmacy run, but has to call you for the shopping list bc oops he forgot

depending on how sick you are, lets you come along for the ride

“promise you’ll stay in the car ja?”

always returns with a sweet little treat or small gift/toy for you

“gesundheit!” as he chuckles at your sneeze

jokes that maybe he should put a mask on you

722 notes · View notes

venus616 · 2 years

Text

i'm just saying you can do better; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary: tell me have you heard that lately? i'm just saying you can do better... and i'll start hating only if you make me. (lyrics by drake, marvin's room)

translation: you and peter have been best friends for years, you had a crush on him but eventually got over it and he noticed you're about to move on to some other guy. he just had to get something off his chest before you did that

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, alcohol mentions (margarita, beer, shots), vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex, praise kink (if you squint), jealousy, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 5.6k (2.4k is smut LOL)

A/N: once i decided on a title for this fic i couldnt stop humming marvins room sjdjnfjnd but yeah this was fun to write it was a previously abandoned wip (my first one ever for peter actually) that i revised the plot for almost entirely and this came out way better than i expected shout out to my oomf / friend for reading both times

She usually kept to herself and her closest friends, Peter being her best one. And don’t get her wrong, she loved Peter. There were no words for how much adoration she had for him, but unfortunately, she wasn't the only one.

Peter was their college’s most eligible bachelor, how could he not be? Top of his class, the freshmen’s favorite Physics TA and possibly the cutest guy at the school. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily a playboy but it was definitely a step up from his social standing from Midtown High. He enjoyed the attention, he’d be a fool not to. Especially because he’s being noticed as himself and not just when he’s in the suit. So yeah, he went on a few dates here and there. Hooked up with a couple people in the bathrooms of frat parties. Even flirted while he was helping students on their problem sets.

Unfortunately for her, she had to hear all about it afterwards.

Whether it’s from his end, a guy talking about the encounter in the dining hall or a girl talking about it before her organic chemistry lecture. She wasn’t the biggest fan of it, it hurt seeing someone she loved dearly, after realizing how deeply that love ran once he was single again, not manifest into a deeper relationship. Peter had been a core part of her life since high school, Aunt May adored her, her family adored him. She was even there for his break up with Gwen Stacy so she could study abroad.

As they got older she understood those were the things that just came with being the best friend to someone who was as amazing as Peter which is why she didn’t risk changing it. She accepted her place in his life and eventually those feelings of consistent jealousy that would flare during the first few months of their freshman year subsided. Sometimes they would come back up but she pushed it aside as false hope as there were outside parties involved. For example, the few times when her friends (that weren’t also his) accused him of being flirty. Each time, nothing came of it. So she refused to read too much into it until he said it explicitly.

She finally chose to actively move on from this high school crush, that she even started seeing someone from one of her classes and they were planning a third date for this weekend. This, because of course, came up during their hang out with their mutual friends in her and Felicia’s campus apartment. They were hanging out to take the edge off after midterms from last week and crowded in the kitchen counter playing bartender during. This was one of the rare times Peter could make it, so she appreciated the quality time with him.

After Felicia made a small margarita for her, she started asking how it was going with Johnny from the Bioethics course. Everyone’s chatter dropped considerably because everyone was interested in the prospective relationship in bloom with the Johnny Storm. She stuttered before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s fine. I mean, he’s really sweet of course. And fun-”

“So have you guys hooked up?” Felicia cuts off. Peter smirks before looking to her for her response.

She feels her stomach flipping at his sudden attention to her answer.

She plays it off before responding, clearing her throat. “Yeah,” she shoots a grin meeting with the eyes across the room before the room erupts in a light cheer.

“We’re actually gonna see eachother again this weekend and go to his place in the city.” She smiles to herself in excitement. She bites the bottom of her lip as her friends shoot quirked up eyebrow glances her way.

“Well let’s celebrate! You're gonna get some from THE Johnny Storm! Bottoms up!” Felicia announces. The rest of her friends follow suit as she tries to laugh off the burning up of her cheeks and ears, not realizing the news of her sex life would be this exciting.

Peter bitterly smirks before taking a swig of his beer. He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal that Felicia practically had to make a show of it.

He also didn’t understand his annoyance and attempted to play it off. It increasingly became hard as the questions advanced and she continued blushing, describing the last few dates with him. Peter’s ears particularly perked up at the study date she had with him, finding out that she had canceled on him for Johnny through this.

Peter felt a twinge of disappointment in his stomach at this, not knowing if it was friend jealousy or something more. He knows he can’t be exactly mad, since the hangout they had planned was usually offhand, and he more often than not skipped out on those due to Spider-Man activities, simultaneously lying. He couldn’t blame her for eventually reciprocating, but for a boy? He hadn’t felt that let down by her since she admitted to him she thought his Bugle coworker Eddie Brock was cute.

Peter took another swig of his drink distractedly, causing Harry to ask if something was on his mind, but he shook his head quickly, lying to alleviate any worries from his friend.

As the night progresses and everyone decides that they’re the perfect amount of buzzed for a game night. After a few rounds of the card game B.S., she decides Candyland would be perfect, remembering that she has the game in her room. Not wanting to get up, she asks Peter to get it for her underneath her bed while he’s up throwing away his drink.

He obliges and turns to her room door, opening it. His eyes narrow at the picture of him and her next to her bed, accompanied by other pictures he’s taken for their group outings. His pace quickened up across the room and he reached for the frame. Peter quickly turned behind him to make sure no one was coming in to check and turned back to smile at it. He remembered this day fondly, the day they went to the state fair and won her a plushy of her favorite animal. In this photo he noticed how big she was smiling while he was only smiling at her posing happily. Peter used his spidey skills to his advantage and just played it off, to soak into her admiration when he won.

He put it back down as he sensed the footsteps coming behind the door to reveal her opening her room door confused.

“Pete, what are you doing? Hurry up, Harry is suggesting body shots again.” She giggled before sauntering over his body standing in front of her nightstand. He chuckled at the comment before she crouched down to get the game underneath her bed. She rose back up on her feet to meet his eyes, following her.

“You’re being a weirdo,” She said putting her hand on his broad shoulder, with a false concern in voice causing him to laugh.

He inhaled a little before quipping. “Are you ditching me to hang out with this new guy?” His voice raised a pitch to ensure the friendliness of the inquiry, attempting to mask his genuine offense.

She then shrugged, and face suggesting she didn’t know or care what he was talking about. It was that moment Peter officially identified his feelings as jealousy.

“If you’re referring to the one time,” she emphasized ‘one’, making Peter feel guilty enough to hang his head low in response, “I canceled on you then yes.” She rubbed the hand she still had on him on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry and I’ll give you a heads up next time. Now can we go so you can stop acting like such a baby?” She playfully tapped his cheeks with her palm but he caught her hand, holding it a little longer than usual.

Peter drank her gaze onto him as his hand engulfed hers, still remaining on her face. His fingers intertwined with hers as he leaned his face into her hand. Her breath hitched at the affection he was showing and slowly removed her hands from his, worried that one of their friends would see them with the door wide open. She broke eye contact, suddenly finding the boardgame in her other hand much more interesting.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Peter’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and soon after so did his hand as it landed on the small of her back, caressing that area lightly until he found her hand again to quickly lead them way out the room.

The rest of the night was odd to say the least.

Peter’s hands were always grazing hers, or finding themself right on top of her thighs. Whether it was to flag her down from the competitive streak they were both showing from the game or laughing at her reaction to one of his bad jokes, his hands were just constantly on her body.

Similar to other instances where she felt confused by Peter’s sudden affection, she attempted to play it off, but it got to a point where it was causing her heart to beat faster and a familiar heat to form within her stomach.

She let out a silent breath of relief that her friends began to leave, expecting Peter to soon leave with Harry. She went to the kitchen to throw food away but found Felicia looking back at her with a mischievous but apologetic look on her face.

“What?” She raised her eyebrow, ready to exclaim at her for leaving her with a mess when she agreed to set up if Felicia cleaned at the end.

“I have plans, sorry babe, but I will cook and clean tomorrow. I promise!” Felicia then dashed out after hugging her body quicker than she could think to respond, followed by the door closing behind her.

She sighed, slightly annoyed that out of all times for Felicia to mysteriously disappear yet again, that she had to do it the night she would clean up. Quickly, she decided to get over it, said her goodbyes to mostly everyone and noticed Harry and Peter still talking. She decided to ignore it until they would eventually make their exit and started on the dishes while they had their conversation.

“You’re not coming back tonight man?” Harry asked, confusion all over his face.

“No I will. Something just came up, so I'll see you later, yeah?” Peter averted Harry’s eyes and Harry understood, or at least assumed he did. Just another one of Peter’s mysterious disappearances, so he left without any further questions.

Harry quickly said bye to the hostess of the night causing her to look up from the sink when she saw Peter still in their apartment.

“Are you still here, Parker?” She sounded in disbelief, causing Peter to scoff.

“Am I not allowed to spend quality time with my best friend now?” She looked up from the sink to see him clutching his heart as if he had been stabbed, making her shake her head at his dramatics.

“For your information, I wanted to stay,” He added on. She wiped down the sink and washed her hands before walking back into the main room where he had sat on the couch, landing on the spot in front of him.

“I believe it’s called overstaying your welcome,” She bantered, causing him to playfully push her by her shoulder.

“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes as the silence of the apartment filled the air. They both noticed it, realizing whatever was there in her room earlier was still in the atmosphere, especially prevalent now that they were officially alone.

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him,” He puffed, muttering it a bit low compared to his usual volume. She furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed at the insuitation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed pushing his shoulder back, mimicking his movement from earlier.

“No not like that, I just feel like you can do better than him,” Peter let the statement roll off his tongue and she froze in response, attempting to understand what he just said. Her eyes landed on the ground, avoiding him again before she could think of a proper reaction.

She quickly shook off what she thought it sounded like, which she thought was jealousy and just took the safe, protective best friend route.

“Should I have gotten your approval first?” She smirked, looking back up at him, reaching over to hold his hand in the safe way they always have.

Peter took it a step farther, just like how he did earlier, and intertwined his fingers with hers yet again.

“I think you should be with someone who’s more your type you know? A little more thoughtful,” Peter started, rubbing his fingers along the pad of her thumb.

“He’s cool I guess, but you shouldn’t be with someone who’s so cocky,” He stated, making her laugh, causing him to laugh as well.

“See you’re enjoying this. You want me to talk about him and beg you not to see him again?” Peter joked, causing her to gasp out as his accusations.

“Peter, you started this,” She pointed out, making his cheeks turn a few shades brighter at her acknowledgment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it also just sounds like you’re describing yourself.” She comments before she could think, embarrassed at her assertion, but she knew if she didn’t call him out he wouldn’t stop it. The last thing she needed was one of her friends not approving of a guy she was seeing.

“I’m your type?” He clocked her. She didn’t know how to react so she watched his face for any hint of how to proceed. He only smirked with a smile playing on his lips, letting her know how much he was enjoying this.

“Oh shut up,” She smiles playfully before hitting him with her nearest throw pillow, him yelling out a whine, knowing it didn’t hurt.

“For your information,” She started, mocking his voice from earlier. “You’re being just as cocky as him right now.” She firmly stated as he placed the pillow back in lap.

Peter shrugged before readjusting himself to sit closer in front of her, dangerously close. It went back to feeling like 30 minutes earlier when he was all over her body.

“Yeah? But it’s okay when I do it.” Peter teased, leaning his head on the couch watching his presence words fluster her. He could feel her heart picking up its pace and it dizzied him, knowing the type of effect he had on her.

“I didn’t say that,” She argued back, making him draw his breath back in before egging on her claim from earlier.

“But I’m your type,” He stated, she sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it and played into it due to this.

“I guess you are Peter,” She states lightly. If Peter didn’t have his Spidey senses on overdrive right now, he would’ve been convinced by the nonchalant act she put on right now. Instead, he respected her commitment to not allowing him to win, even when she’s flirting back.

“Then how come you’re not going out with me?”

What he said stunned her, she faltered momentarily before shrugging again with a smile.

“You never asked,” She stated, a smile bouncing off of her lips watching Peter form an answer. They decided to skip over the fact that they had been friends for almost 6 years, but she knew that her honest answer was that the mere idea of him going out with her was out of the question because of it.

Until now.

He remained still for a moment and she fixated on where their hands met instead, wondering if they had ever held hands like this before. While she was thinking, and while Peter used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her hair, she realized the answer was never, because it had always been much more innocent. However, tonight was anything but that.

“Can I try something?” His voice finally registered in her ears. Confused at his sudden switch, she nods.

Peter hesitates, going in to kiss her. Peter’s soft lips connect to hers as his hand cups her face. She instinctively deepened the kiss, silently asking for Peter’s permission to do so. Their breaths began to shake from the intensity of the kiss.

She practically lost her bearings when Peter’s hands made their way to her waist, pulling her towards his chest. She held onto his bicep, now flexed, as he hooked his hand underneath her leg to pull her around his hips where he sat.

They were an entangled mess, Peter placing her where he wanted and her obliging, but not coming up for air as she leaned even more into the kiss. Peter chuckled in between the kisses when he eventually grabbed her hips to hover above his own. She groaned at his strength, leaning back in to attack his neck and jaw in kisses.

She eventually started to nibble on his neck, finding his sensitive spot. He pants out, attempting to slow down her movements before bringing her closer.

“Fuck, you’re really going in on me there,” He muttered before he forcefully plopped her onto him causing her to grind on his forming erection, grinning at his acknowledgment. Peter placed his hand on her back and pushed her closer to his chest, nose and forehead pressed against one another with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room.

She leaned into his ear whispering lowly, “You like it.” She readjusted herself on him slightly, to grab on the waistband of his pants, tugging it down before snaking her other hand on the print straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Peter groaned, dick twitching in his pants from simultaneous surprise and arousal. He didn’t realize how different it would be sleeping with a close friend, but also underestimating how she would be in a sexual context.

He threw his head back as she unbuttoned his pants, in disbelief of what was happening right now. When he brought his head back up to watch her movements he saw her kneeled before him on the ground, rubbing his erection through his boxers.

“Fuck, slow down,” He breathed out while pulling his jeans off. Right after, Peter raised his t-shirt right above his abs while she pulled his boxers down, cock semi-hard.

Her eyes glazed over his body, only semi familiar with it whenever their friends went to the beach or the pool. She tried to hide her shock at he’s become exponentially toned since high school and just seemed to be getting bigger despite never actively going to the gym. She chose to pay it no mind and focused on his cock.

Mainly because she hated how attractive Peter looked right now, hair messy, shirt halfway off and looking down at her, closely watching her movements. The attention he was giving her was enough to make her want to shut down immediately. Their eye contact remained intense, both blown out with lust, both because of the compromising position the other was in.

She maintained eye contact and wrapped her hand around his length, slowly jerked her hand around him. When he was hard enough, she placed one hand at the base of his cock and another right on top, running her thumb over the slit a few times once the pre cum came out. She looked down at the wetness pooling out from him and focused on her movements, not wanting to lose this pace he had been receptive to. He was fully erect at this point, almost bucking his hips into her hands getting him off.

Peter was choking back his moans before he finally spoke. “Don’t be a tease,” He muttered.

She giggled and the noise went straight to his dick, causing him to buck once more in her hands.

Without saying anything, she placed the hand that had been on the base of his erection on his thigh and opened her mouth in an obscene way that was unfamiliar to Peter. Before he could take a mental picture of it, she slowly licked the underside of his cock up to his tip and wrapped her lips around him, her eyes never leaving his.

He whispered a curse under his breath from the scene in front of him, realizing this was just the beginning.

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was previously spurting out and she dipped her head lower, dropping the eye contact to which Peter had a brief sigh of relief, becoming intimidated by the intimacy of it all. She shifted her focus on taking him whole and started to bob her head on him, engulfing his length with her mouth.

He started puffing out, mumbling praises that only encouraged her. “Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” She only nodded, attempting to take him deeper while swishing her mouth around him and continuing to bob.

Peter felt a tension forming in his stomach and wanted to tell her to stop but it escaped his head as quickly as it came because of how good her mouth felt. Peter fought the urge to instinctively thrust into her mouth and just cupped the back of her head, pushing the hair out of her face as she continued to gag around him, the wet noises mixing in with his moans.

“Don’t hurt yourself babe,” He said before moving a hand that was around her head to her cheek, making her look up at him. She bobbed her head a few more times, this time more shallowly and popped off his dick, gasping for air.

A trail of her saliva dripped from her lips to the head of his cock making his stomach burst with butterflies from the image of how flushed, and fucked out she looked from the immaculate head she just provided him with. His heart swelled from the action and all he could do was wipe the spit from her chin and cup her face.

“C’mere here,” He mumbled, bringing her to stand on her feet and lean down to kiss him. He kissed her rougher than the first time, presumably from the desire he’s built up from the foreplay. She was still trying to pace her breathing and he could tell so he slowed down, but snaked his hands down to the waistband of her jeans, reciprocating the unbuttoning of her pants like she had done for him.

She broke the kiss to replace his hands with hers and slipped them off. Shortly after she removed her top, revealing herself clad in some lacy underwear and a bra, standing before him.

“No fair, Parker,” She commented. He was briefly confused until she grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it off of him, admiring his toned, relaxed figure in full view now. She kneeled back down on the couch cushions, her warm core hovering above his dick, teasing him as he could feel the heat on him with her knees on either side of his legs.

He brought his hand in between her thighs, attempting to move her underwear to the side but paused at the wetness of her through the fabric.

“So wet,” He tsked, making her smirk when he looked back up to her studying his movements. He placed her fingers firmly against her nub through the fabric, to which she grinded against, needing to feel his large fingers against her now throbbing clit.

“Impatient, too,” He added, finally moving her panties to the side to insert a finger, making her throw her head back. She unconsciously rocked her hip forward at the penetration to which he met by repeatedly thrusting into her before adding another.

Both his index and middle fingers were fucking her, long and slender but big enough to feel the pleasure of the stretch once she had relaxed around him. Peter eventually curled his fingers inside of her and flicked his wrists while inside of her, causing her to squirm on top of him. The sounds of her wetness coincided with her moans, progressively getting more sensitive and impatient.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” She hissed at him, unable to control the steady rocking of her hips on his hands.

“Good,” He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He brought his other thumb to rub her clit, making her movements sputter and breathing erratic as he played with her to her finish.

Peter felt her clenching around him more frequently and took advantage of it to thrust faster, curling his fingers back up to create more friction. She whined out at the change of pace and stimulation added onto her clit before eventually feeling the built up tightness in the lower pit of her stomach release, signifying her finish.

She continued to clench around his fingers as he continued to finger her despite her orgasm. She sobbed at the sensitivity she began to help but couldn’t help but continue rocking her hips into his fingers, riding them once again. She resumed panting out his name, begging him for something but couldn’t form the words.

“What?” He said, barely slowing down the thrusts of his fingers.

“Fuck me,” She responded, hardly audible from the groans surrounding the statement.

He nods, removing his fingers from her core, making her gasp at the sudden absence of him. She made quick work of her underwear, slipping them off her legs while Peter wrapped his hand around his cock, attempting not to completely jerk off to the sight of her.

She returned to her previous position, covering her completely naked form over Peter’s, feeling the tip of him right under to her wetness.

She sank down on him, both wincing at the feeling of each other. All Peter could focus on was the softness of being inside her, her skin, the flesh of her thighs being wrapped around him, the closeness of their chests being pressed up against each other and the brief vulnerability she was displaying by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He felt faint at the presence of her scent while her head was tucked into his neck, combined by the steady sensation of her rocking her hips onto his cock.

“Peter,” She moaned.

“Yeah?” Peter was hardly taken out of his thoughts, answering automatically as he grabbed onto the flesh of her hips to control at the speed he thrusted into her from under.

“You feel so,” She groaned before continuing “So fucking good Pete. You feel fucking amazing inside of me.” She finished before plunging down faster onto him, making him look at her mouth agape. He could feel her clenching even harder and more frequently around him, combined with her wetness from the previous orgasm and just from sucking him off, it was almost too much.

Peter looked down to see where they connected and saw his skin glistening just from her arousal, and felt even more turned on.

“You’re gonna kill me,” He stated mindlessly, still in awe of how sexy she looked right now. In Peter’s point of view, he struggled with deciding what to focus on.

The way her tits bounced in front of his face, the way her ass and thighs felt when they smacked on top of his thighs repeatedly, causing the the jiggle of her body to be even more apparent, or how fucking close she was holding him. She alternated from both her hands clenching into his shoulders, or one hand on the nape of his neck and another pulling on his brown curls.

A bonus was how she sounded moaning his name and a string of praises for how he made her feel.

Of course, she noticed this.

“You like that don’t you?” Her voice caught his attention, barely realizing she was actually asking him a question

“What?” He breathed out, sounding just as fucked out as he looked, the sweat of each other making his hair stick to his forehead.

“When I say nice things to you,” She obliged to Peter’s physical request of her to slow down, which was him just forcing her movements to stop by the way he grabbed her.

“Mmm,” He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch, avoiding her quizzical stare.

“C’mere,” She said, pulling herself forward by pushing her weight on his shoulders and rising from his, now aching, cock.

Peter’s attention was caught, he shook his head in disbelief of her and opened his eyes, still hanging low to hide his irritation that her heat wasn’t surrounding him anymore.

“You’re so cute when you’re upset,” She fake pouted, then proceeded to giggle. Peter didn’t want to find it as cute as he did but he couldn’t help himself.

“You really are a fucking tease, you know that?” He growled before grabbing her by her thighs to lower herself back onto him and raised his hips from the couch to fuck her on his own pace. The force from his strength caused her entire body to rock from each thrust, but she relished in it, moaning out praise for how good it made her feel.

“Peter,” She yelped at a particularly hard thrust. “Just like that,” Peter’s head spun at this.

“Yeah, keep doing that, please,” She begged, fucking begged, Peter to maintain the force he had brought upon her. It was then he knew he played right into what she wanted when she taunted him for his praise kink. (He was then making a mental note of how well she knows him and how he’s probably just a little predictable.)

Peter was practically drooling to see her come apart on top of him like this, he threw his head back in the pillows once again to enjoy the view and moved one of his hands to her clit, putting pressure on her, bringing her closer to her orgasm.

He felt it building up by the way she clenched on his cock and couldn’t contain his moans any more.

“Moan, please I wanna hear you when you cum inside me,” She commented once he let a particularly loud one escape his lips. He was both shocked and embarrassed at the effect she had on him, because he almost came apart immediately at the invitation to cum inside her.

“You sure?” He whined, trying to bring her to finish before him.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there with you,” She said, finding his other hand on her waist and intertwining his fingers with her.

“Please?” Once those words left her lips he was finished. He instantly came inside her, her following right after.

Their orgasms swept them both away, sensitivity coming right after as she struggled to detach herself from him. Peter didn’t allow this and continued to fuck her through both their orgasms, relishing the pain and the pleasure this decision came with.

Her head was back in the crook of his neck when their movements slowed down and they had to catch their breaths.

Once their hearts reached a normal rate and they removed themselves off of each other, Peter broke the silence.

“Are you still going to see him?” He asked rather timidly. She didn’t understand the sudden shyness but decided not to comment on it. She shrugged in response before answering honestly.

“Probably,” She averted eye contact with him, looking at where their hands connected, ignoring their full frontal nudity because this was somehow more vulnerable.

Peter’s heart dropped, he wasn’t expecting that response, nor his reaction to that response. Without thinking about the weight of what he was going to say next, because he hadn’t been doing much of that tonight, he continued.

“What if you go out with me instead?”

She looked him in the eyes again before responding. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. It was a mixture of fear, desire and hope.

Then, it was her turn not to think before she responded.

“Like on a real date?” She realized how that sounded when she said it aloud.

Peter nods, knowing what she meant.

“I meant what I said about us,” He paused, watching for her reaction. She hung onto his words, encouraging him to continue. “I want to go out with you and if I’m your type then what’s stopping us?” He joked. In her head this was so unsurprising because it seemed right up his alley to joke about some offhand comment she made before they literally had sex and laughed, because of how predictable her best friend is.

“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” She inquires, shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. She studied his features again before he answered, watching him turn a few shades of pink.

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I don’t fuck my friends you know.”

“Up until now,” Peter smirked at this comment, she was always so quick to rival his own quips.

He let the silence simmer before responding because he wasn’t sure just how she felt about this, him, or what they just did. He was afraid he had permanently damaged the friendship and wasn’t sure how he was gonna come back from it if that were the case.

So, he asked.

“Is it weird now?” He spoke barely above a whisper.

“What part?” She had to ask before she could answer.

“That we did it backwards.” He exasperated, feeling unsure of himself now that he had to verbalize what he meant.

She shrugged again, this time affectionately, not wanting Peter to get frustrated with her or himself.

“Maybe it can be a good weird,” She affirmed his anxiety by clarifying.

Peter’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrow in excitement.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip before leaning in to kiss him once again.

His hands dropped back down to her waist to bring her in closer as the certainty between them was solidified.

A/N: okay so when i was writing this i imagined comic book f4 johnny storm especially bc of the dynamic he has with peter in the comics (spideytorch my beloved) but when my friend reviewed this she asked if it was chris evans and while that wasn't the intention that made it so much better so just clarifying it wasnt on purpose but if you did that i hope it was fun

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biteofcherry · 1 year

Note

What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀

Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵

I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.

that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers

An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.

He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.

You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.

It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.

Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.

"Sure thing, cherry."

His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).

Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.

You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.

You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.

Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.

If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...

You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.

"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.

"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.

His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.

Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.

"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."

You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.

You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.

But it's something you would find out much later.

Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.

If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.

You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.

If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.

Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.

You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.

But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #enforcer!steve rogers #it maaay turn into actual series sometime in the futur #*future #idk i make no promises yet but it's tempting #for now I'm titling it - Cherry #steve fic: cherry

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seungmoonandstars · 2 months

Text

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

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Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 5.9k

rating: angst/mature/18+ ಇ (idiots trying to get to lovers/mutual pining)

contains: drinking/drunkiness, implied mental illness, medication mention, weight mention

comments: Part two of this noona fic request. Not sure how much interest there is in this (there's more, because I love writing it and I needed some angst), but let me know if you guys like it!

songs to listen to while reading: orion sun - intro // chloe george - when does it get good

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Seungmin feels around in the dark, and he knows at any moment, he’s going to trip. The layout of your apartment is still foreign to him, but he likes it here, and he wants to get used to being here. It’s a welcome change from the dorm—there it's usually a mess. It smells, it tends to get loud at the worst moments, and the worst part of all is that you’re not there. Ever.

He’s a bit embarrassed of the place, even though his room is usually clean and ready for company. It’s better here, though. It’s always quiet, and warm, and it smells like vanilla and coffee, even now, in the middle of the night.

As much as he wanted to keep things between the two of you, for now, it did not work. Seungmin came home very late the night after he confessed (and you confessed), so it was easy for everyone to figure out. Still, though, he hasn’t talked much about it in the three days since. And now, somehow, he’s ended up at your apartment, and it’s well past midnight.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, tucked against his side, and he shook you awake eventually.

“Time to get to bed, yeah?” He said, and he gave you a few more minutes to collect yourself before helping you up. Then he guided you into the bedroom, but he just stood there at the door for a moment, watching, waiting until you turned to him and smiled.

“Goodnight”

“You’re leaving?” You check the time on your phone. It's late.

“Yeah, I should go,” his heartbeat picks up a little as he casually looks around your room. This is his first time seeing it., and Seungmin thinks to himself how very you it is—the colors, the mix of adult and not-so-adult, pages from magazines and photobooks pinned to a corkboard next to very important looking things. He sees his face pinned there as well; a closeup of him, ripped neatly from the Noeasy photobook. No, two photos of him...three.

“Okay. You don’t have to, but…” you think, look around, look back at him, “text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will”

He clicks the hall light off as he makes his way toward the door, and with the glow of the tv gone, it’s suddenly very, very dark. The light of his phone helps, but he hits his foot on the coffee table, of course, and then he finally grabs his bag. Luckily it takes him a few extra minutes to fight into his shoes, because a text comes through just as he goes for the door.

don’t leave yet

Seungmin looks toward your bedroom door and waits. One, two, three seconds. It swings open, and you leave it there so the light pours out and illuminates him.

“Did I forget something?”

You stop in front of him and nod, “I did,” and grab the front of his shirt to pull him down. You kiss, and he kisses right back. And then you let go. “Can I ask what’s in your backpack?”

“Huh? My…oh my bag. Just my usual stuff, uhm, it’s silly. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be pulled away when I have no time to pack, so I always carry something with me.”

“So that's your overnight bag?”

“I guess. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...if it’s the wrong idea. I wasn’t expecting something to happen, I promise.”

“Seungmin, it’s okay. I just came out to kiss you goodnight, not question your motives.” You pull him to you again and kiss. “And you’re welcome to spend the night—on the couch, or in my bed. Preferably in my bed. But wherever you’re comfortable.”

His laugh is so nervous, and he hates it, “maybe next time?”

“Of course. I’m leaving for a while tomorrow, but I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No, a week at the most”

“A week. Okay, that’s not bad. If I’m home when you get back., we can do something.”

“Right, you might not be here”

You stare at each other silently, maybe hoping to read each other’s mind. You might not see him for a while and that was hard enough when you were just friends, pining endlessly. Now you’ve touched him and kissed him, and you need more time to do those things.

“I might be, though”

“Goodnight, Minnie”

This time he kisses you himself.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“I’m not surprised…but at the same time I’m a little surprised,” Felix scratches his head. He’s watching Seungmin cross the kitchen to fill his glass with water.

He doesn’t notice everyone staring at him until he turns toward the coffee maker. “What?”

“Surprised why?” Minho cups his chin in his hand and smiles at both of them.

“How was your date last night, kid?”

"Date?" Minho jumps and grins at Seungmin.

“We just watched a movie, it was good. She’s leaving today so I won’t see her for a while.”

“Oh no, that’s no good. So—“

“What are you surprised about?!” Minho slap his palm on the table, “Yongbok!”

“I’m getting there!”

“You’ve never been to her place before, right? What brought that on…a movie at her apartment?”

Seungmin is making his coffee, patiently, and looking at his roommate as he takes his time getting to the point. But Felix waits as he makes his way to the table with them to press on.

“You never really told us what happened the other night. You two just disappeared.”

“Oh, we went to her place, so we could be alone…”

The three of them OH in unison, because Jeongin turns the corner just in time. Minho is still confused, and nobody seems to want to elaborate for him. All four of them here at the same doesn’t happen often, so Seungmin is feeling a little crowded

“…to talk.”

“Ooh,” Jeongin smiles, “and? Did you talk last night, too?”

“Not much, no”

Their eyes grow as they wait for more, but now Seungmin is having too much fun stringing them a long.

“Please continue”

“There’s nothing else,” he shrugs, “we drank a little, watched a movie, we both dozed off for a while, I think…no,” Seungmin throws a hand up when Felix' mouth turns up into a smirk. “It was a long movie, nothing else happened.”

“Did you kiss?” Jeongin leans closer and whispers, “you kissed, yeah?”

Seungmin can’t help but smile when he asks. He can feel his face grow warm just thinking about it. Last night, and then your first kiss. That one got much heavier than he expected, and he loved every second—the touching, your tongue, your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait a week for more, but he’s not going to chase after you now. He has to be patient, again.

“You should have spent the night"

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You sit across from each other in the cafeteria, just like you’ve done a dozen times before. It’s not busy, not even at lunchtime, but looking up at him for too long is making your heart race. It’s not that you’re afraid someone will walk by and read your mind (but if they did, they might be disgusted), it just feels different being with him in public now.

It feels like you’re both doing something a little bit wrong.

Seungmin is a young idol, and he’s sweet and kind and innocent, as far as everyone knows. You’ve already seen his unfiltered self, and it’s better than any act he’s had to put on. But he is still sweet and kind and…you assume a little innocent. You’ve never talked about your sex lives, ever.

You look up at him and lock eyes. He smiles, and you can’t help but start undressing him. Yes, you’ve touched him, finally. His thigh—he let you run your hand from his knee and up you went until you knew it was time to stop—his neck, his shoulder, his face…but there’s still so much of him to touch and see. The part of your mind that you can't keep quiet is afraid there won't be many more oppurtunities.

You have to close your eyes and relax.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just thinking. Over-thinking.”

He smiles again, and you start to wonder if he’s doing it because he’s nervous.

“About us?”

Us? That’s a much bigger word than it was a few days ago. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good things?”

Good things, yes. As long as you stay focused, there's nothing to think about when it comes to him except for good things. “Yeah, of course.”

“How is your lunch? Spicy enough?”

“Is my face red?”

“A little, yes”

“No spice today, so it’s you doing that.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

What if he stays too late tonight, again? He doesn’t want to run off at the first mention of spending the night, because he wants to stay here with you. There was no expectation of it when you asked last time, he assumes, because he can sleep wherever he wants; he can do whatever he wants. And you wouldn’t pressure him anyway. He knows you better than that.

He knows nothing about your sex life, though. And almost nothing about your dating life.

Seungmin doesn’t really know much about either of those things when it comes to himself, actually. There was never much time to date, or it was low on the list. And having sex without at least dating someone doesn’t sit well with him.

But he has been on dates, and he has kissed, and touched, and he’s been touched right back. But that’s all. No sex—that blowjob didn’t count—it was awkward, and it wasn’t very good. And as hard as he tries, he can't forget his first time trying to find a clit.

“Do you want a drink?” You shake his arm until he finally seems to hear you, “drink…beer, coke, coffee?”

“Soju?”

“I have strawberry and peach”

“Strawberry somaek?”

You disappear into the fridge and dig around, and Seungmin watches carefully when you bend forward. He’s always admired your body, though it never had much to do with him liking you the way he did. But now, he feels like it’s okay to appreciate it more. You’re shorter than him, and curvier (which doesn’t take much, seeing as how Seungmin is basically a straight line). Your ass and thighs are an eyeful for him, though.

Everything looks soft. Everything is soft, because he did sneak his hand there that first night. He squeezed his fingers right above your knee, then moved up ever so slightly to get some thigh. He didn’t dare go any further, though.

The touching you did the second time was much more innocent—holding hands, fingers laced together, your head against his shoulder as you fell asleep. He looked you over carefully, but kept his hands to himself, only daring to run a thumb over your wrist as you dozed off.

“Would you like to pour, or do you trust me?”

Seungmin snaps out of it. He’s pretty sure you caught him staring. “I trust you.”

“Can you grab the glasses for me?”

He does, and he follows you back to the living room and makes himself comfortable at the coffee table. And now that he’s started, he can’t take his eyes off of you as you move.

“That’s…oh okay we have different pours,” Seungmin eyes the glass, but you pull it toward yourself. “That’s much more soju than I usually do.”

You pour his now, but only fill the glass a third of the way before topping it off with the beer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to soften me up.” His breath catches in his chest when he says it, because it sounded much more stupid than it did in his head.

“No, trying to soften myself up, actually.”

“Why? You can’t get drunk without me,” the frown he gives you is over the top and very cute. “I don’t want you to fall asleep too early.”

“I’ll be careful”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin feels good after two glasses. It’s not much, but he hasn’t eaten recently, and he’s pretty certain his second drink was identical to yours.

You’re halfway through your third.

“These are too easy to drink.” You sit at the table with a dish of mandu and dakgangjeong. “And I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“I usually am.” He leans forward and smells the chicken, “did you make all this.

You shake your head, “I’m not the best at cooking. I wish I had more time to practice.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for feeding me, and getting me tipsy.” He grabs a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. And then a dumpling. And then finishes off his third somaek.

“You can’t be tipsy yet”

“I will be if I have another”

Seungmin does have another. And the for his next drink, he switches to straight beer—but he’s drunk. He picks up his chopsticks and grabs for a dumpling, but it slips off and bounces onto the table.

Both of you just stare at for a long moment. And then Seungmin giggles as he tries again. This time it makes it to his mouth.

“Where you going?”

He’s slowly getting to his feet, and he stands for a minutes to get his head straight.

“Bathroom”

“Good idea”

“Are you joining me?”

You stop halfway onto your feet and look up at him, his hand is outstretched like he’s welcoming the company, “ah…you first.”

It’s very obvious he had a bit too much. And you did, too, but you’re working hard to keep yourself together. When you walk back out from the bathroom, Seungmin is standing up, staring at the tv, and the rest of the chicken is making its way into his mouth. He looks comfortable and satisfied—drunk, yes…but happy.

It makes you warm up even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so good.

“Hey”

“Hi…hello, do you feel better? Do you want the last few pieces?” He holds some out to you, but it disappears into his mouth as soon as you shake your head. “We should sober up.”

Yes, you should. You sit on the couch and curl yourself up into a ball, but when he sits next to you, your limbs develop a mind of their own. Before you can stop yourself, you slide your arms around his waist and hold yourself tight against him. Your leg drapes over his lap, and you’re practically straddling his thighs. He takes it in stride, though. Seungmin holds you right back and takes the opportunity to slide a hand across your hip, and when he squeezes, you jump.

“Sorry”

“Mm mm, no…it’s good. Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm”

“I think that’s the alcohol”

“Maybe…maybe, but you always—“ you stop and start to giggle, and you shove your face into his shirt to try to stifle yourself.

“Always what?”

You shake your head against him, push harder against his chest, take in his scent…feel yourself becoming even more drunk. “Nothing.”

His hand slides back up and settles on your hip, “always something good, hopefully.”

“Sorry, my head is swimming.”

“Mine too”

“I was hoping the alcohol would help, but you’re making me so nervous.”

“You’re nervous? I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe telling you will make it go away."

“I’m also nervous. I wasn’t the last time I was here…so maybe the drinks are working against us.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and he looks down at you with big, heavy eyes. Your gaze drops and takes in every bit of him—his cheeks, his nose, his lips…his lips. He wets them and a smile pulls at his mouth, and you desperately want him to lean down closer to you. Every part of you is screaming for him, but you’re still frozen.

He’s frozen, too. The booze just made both of you stupid.

“Seungmin?” You’ve never, not even as a teenager, felt so stupidly in love with someone.

“Yeah?”

The longer you watch him, the closer he seems to get, and you see every little detail, every little spot, every little perfect blemish and pore on his skin.

“Kiss me before I explode”

His lips press into yours and his fingers squeeze so hard again. You want him to hold you tighter still, and you need to be closer. He does. Seungmin moves you until you’re on his lap, and he devours you. He’s all tongue, and it’s wet and messy, not like his previous kisses, but it’s so good tasting him, and tasting the entire night on him.

Then he stops suddenly to catch his breath, but he stays there and bites down lightly on your bottom lip. Your eyes open, and he’s right there, staring. He pulls back, looks at the space between your thighs, and there’s not much there. If you let yourself relax a little more, you’d feel his dick growing in his sweatpants.

But you can see it. You’re no longer frozen, so you shake the thought of what’s between his legs out of your head, for now. Both of you are way too fucked up for the first time. What you do need to do is kiss him again, so you take over, squeeze his shoulders and hold him steady while you lick across his parted lips. Seungmin opens up for you and he moans into the kiss—moans right down your throat.

You shake your head, “we should stop until we’re, um…I don’t wanna do this drunk.”

“I don’t either,” he keeps kissing, but slows down and softens his touch. His hands move to your waist, and then your back, where they stay.

“But don’t leave tonight”

“I won’t”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin watches you from his side of your bed. He did fall asleep for a while, but he woke from a dream and forgot for a few moments where he was. His racing heart beat against the mattress as he looked toward you, facing away from him, shirt pulled halfway up your back. You kicked the covers off in your sleep—probably too warm from sobering up, but so deeply asleep. Still, he reaches out and runs two fingers down the skin that’s peeking out.

You move ever so slightly, and mumble something. He looks at the time: just after 4am. You’ve been asleep for about three hours, because both of you were out as soon as you hit the bed.

But Seungmin feels better. Less drunk, at least. His head aches a little, but not enough to bother him. He reaches out again, but this time he pulls at your shirt until you’re covered.

“Minnie”

“I’m up, you feel okay?”

You mumble again, and groan, but you don’t answer.

“Minnie…hmmm, don’t leave”

“Hey,” he crawls closer and runs a hand down your arm, “hey, oh you’re still asleep.”

You wake up when you feel his lips on your shoulder. “Min?”

“Are you up or talking in your sleep?”

“I’m up…oh no, what did I say?” You turn onto your back and grab his hand. “I don’t do that all the time.”

“Just my name”

“Oh”

“And you told me not to leave,” he squeezes your hand and searches for the soberness in your eyes, “I’m still here.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually speak so clearly”

The sleep-talking doesn’t phase him. In fact, the quietness of the room is a welcome change to his typical nights. The whole night, drunk as you both were, was quiet and calm. “Were you thinking about me in your sleep?”

“I must have been,” you move his hair away from his eyes, and now you’re searching for any leftover drunkenness. He seems wide awake and sober.

“It’s 4 in the morning, if you’re still tired…we can go back to sleep.” That’s not what he wants, but he also wants what you want. Seungmin figured you’d get into bed and both of you would sleep soundly until morning. But he woke up.

“No, I feel good. And you look good.”

The truth is, you are very tired. If you close your eyes right now, you have no doubt that you would fall back to sleep almost immediately. Instead you rip off the rest of the blanket and sit up.

“Where are you going?”

He watches you stand slowly, carefully, just in case. But your legs work just fine. Maybe Seungmin can change that. The thought sends a little wave a pleasure through you, and you smile when you turn to look at him, “bathroom.”

That is what you do, but you dig through the drawer under the sink as well. You didnt prepare properly, because you didn’t double check to see if you still had condoms, and if they were still good.

“Oh good,” you grab the half used pack and look closely at the date stamped on the bottom, "lucky.” But you make the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror, and your reflection feels like it's a mile away. Your eyes blur, and the room spins for a moment.

A perfectly timed knock on the door makes you jump, and the box slips from your hand.

“Are you okay? I gotta go, too.”

“Yeah, Minnie, I’m coming,” you pick them up and palm them as you head for the door, “sorry, go ahead.”

Seungmin whistles as he returns and quietly shuts the door, “so are you…out?” He holds up the empty box and shakes it. “You left the drawer open.”

“Oh, no no,” you grab the condoms from your bedside table and show them to him, “we have two.”

He pulls one from your fingers and examines it for a moment, “I don’t think these will fit.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

It’s stupid, and it’s reckless, and you know it. But it’s not going to stop you. From the moment he said the condoms—the only condoms either of you had, wouldn’t work, you tossed it back onto the table, looked up at him, “okay,” and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants until he was right in your face.

“Okay” He sets his down, too. “Are you…” he groans when you find a good spot on his stomach, and he laughs when you graze your lips across his skin.

Every time you get back to his belly button, you tug a little more. His sweatpants start to tent, and you’re starting to feel exactly how much he wouldn’t fit into those condoms. One more tug, and you can see him—the stiff base of his cock, held still by the grip of your fingers.

He’s so hot against the fabric, and a wet spot of pre-cum starts to come through as you stroke him.

“I’m not surprised you like to tease,” he smiles down at you, but he’s blushing…everywhere. His cheeks, his ears, his neck. When he pulls his shirt over his head, he’s flushed all the way down to where your lips are.

Seungmin is just as lean under all those clothes as you imagined, and his shoulders…

“Turn around”

“Huh…turn?”

You stand and grab his hips, “yeah, turn around for me.”

He listens and peeks back at you the best he can—until your hands move from his hips, slowly upward, touching every bit of skin you can—across his shoulder blades, back down his spine.

The sigh he lets out is so content and relaxed, it actually puts you more at ease. He laughs sweetly when your lips touch him. “I like your teasing.”

Seungmin turns back to face you, and your fingers slide across him as he moves.

“Just admiring you." Yes, you are admiring him. Touching him, finally, is doing more for you than anything else possibly could. But every step forward now is taking all of your energy.

“Admiring? Me?” He cups your cheek and lifts until you’re looking at him, then pulls you close.

It’s sweet and it’s perfect, and you melt into him, but now you’re so distracted by his dick pressing against you. You push your hips in until he groans, slide your hands under his waistband.

Seungmin grabs back, and squeezes your ass. “Let me see you.” He pulls your shirt up and over your head before you can react, but you fold your arms over yourself before pressing back into him.

“Ah…I’m sorry, too fast?” His hands keep you against him. He holds so tight, you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. “I should have let you do that.”

“No, I just—“

“I didn’t think you’d be shy”

A shiver runs through you when his hands move down your back, then back up.

“How about we…” he scoots closer to the lamp, keeping hold of you, and clicks it off. “Is that better?”

“Maybe,” you laugh, but it’s hesitant, a little edgy. “You’re too perfect, Minnie and…ah, I don’t know what's going on, I’m nothing special.”

“No, you're very special. What’s the matter?”

You relax a a little in his arms.

“I’m not perfect, not even close. You haven’t seen me after rolling out of bed at noon, or grumpy when my mouth hurts after getting these things tightened.”

You whine his name. You’re ruining the moment. Him comforting your sudden stupid thoughts and doubts—he’s probably already getting soft. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything. I'm not sure what happened.”

“Mm, no…you haven’t made a mess of anything.” Seungmin grabs your shirt from the edge of the bed and slips it back on you, “it's okay, we can get back under the covers if you’d like.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“Give me your hand”

Seungmin holds it up to you, then sets it in yours.

Back under the covers is where you end up, and you really do feel like a tease now. Poor Seungmin—his dick doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but right now, you know he’s definitely not hard. You've ruined that.

“You think I’m perfect…can I think you’re perfect?” he lets go of your hand and runs his up your arm.

“No, I’m a mess. My skin, my hair is a mess. I’m getting chubby because I never watch what I eat. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be here. Because you brought me here and made me feel like I was yours."

“I was so high off of your words before. I thought I was dreaming when we were talking after dance practice.”

Seungmin moves closer, and now you’re sharing a pillow, and you breathe in every sigh he breathes out. His hand is moving so slowly over you, and he’s being so patient as it finds the curve of your hip and slides under the bottom of your shirt. “You’re not a mess.” He’s touching you and kneading his fingers into your side. Into your back. He works his way up and drags his fingertips up to your throat. “And they weren’t just words.”

How could you possibly deny him, looking at you like this? You shouldn’t, but your brain is telling you it will never work; it’s a waste of time. He’s going to really see you, and change his mind—he’ll find out how bad you are at this, and how emotional and unbearable you get when you do. It’s too much for him.

Still, his touch is as soft as his eyes, and he moves even closer until his leg can slide over yours.

“No, I don’t deserve you”

He isn’t sure how to reply to that, so he just stares. Maybe he’s waiting for you to crack a smile, or laugh it off, but you don’t. “Why would you say that?”

“You can do so much better than me, I promise.” You get as far as sitting yourself up, and your head pounds against your eyes. The alcohol is catching up to you and turning into a hangover already. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I’ve been stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Seungmin grabs your arm as you shift to get out of bed. His head is pounding now, too, because he's trying to figure out what went wrong and where he fucked up. “I can go if that’s really what you want, but give me a minute.”

You struggle with a response. You don’t want him to leave, but he should. And if he does, it might be the end of something that didn’t even begin. “A minute…for what?”

“To say something”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“I meant everything I said before, even if I didn’t say much. But you knew what I was thinking.” He lets go of your arm, because you seem to have relaxed. You’ve settled back in your spot, under the covers, back against the pillows. “I want you, and you want me…I think. And I need you around, I know that much. If I leave, will we go back to how we were before?”

There’s a long silence. You’re not sure if he wants an answer to that, but you don’t want to think too hard about it. Maybe, eventually, the memory of this can pass and you can be friends again.

“I don't want to go back to that. Not after this,” he answers himself. “So…”

Seungmin throws the covers off of himself, puts his feet on the cold floor, and then waits a few seconds before standing. It takes a moment to find his shirt, but he does and throws it on, and the entire time you watch him so intensely. But you stay quiet.

He knows you’re watching, and he takes his time, hoping you’ll stop him as he goes for the door. But you don’t.

And he anxiously waits for his phone to buzz after he grabs it from the coffee table. The empty bottles and glasses—the mess from the food scattered everywhere—Seungmin stares at it, waiting for a text that won’t come, and he decides he won’t leave yet. Instead he starts to clean.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You’re stuck in your spot on the bed, phone now in hand, and you stare at the messages you’ve shared over the last week—to prove yourself wrong, maybe. Or just to make yourself feel worse. You couldn’t possibly feel any worse right now, though. Seungmin is still here; his scent lingers, and the feeling of his touch. But he left. You kicked him out, and deep down, you know you don’t want to subject him to whatever the future might hold. This isn’t possible, and thinking it could be was both of you just being struck dumb with lust. And maybe love.

You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? I get my days mixed up sometimes, especially when I’m home for a while. Do you get like that? Maybe my memory is going already, haha I’ll be around if you’re free, so I hope you are. I can’t wait to see you again.

Seungmin is a good texter. He’s thoughtful and sincere, and he seems to choose his words carefully, as if he’s speaking to you face to face. That, or he just closes his eyes and types everything he feels. That wouldn’t surprise you.

I hope texting you so soon isn’t weird. No, it’s you! It’s not weird, or if it is that makes it normal for us. I hope you feel as good as I do. Good night ♥️

You pull the covers up to your chin and try to get comfortable. But you can’t take your eyes off the string of messages.

I practiced your song today! It might take a little more work to get it to sound good with my vocals. Maybe I need your input. But I’d rather surprise you!

He’s probably been working on it all week, and here you almost forgot about it. Before he sent this text, you didn’t know if he was serious, or it was just his opening line.

The sound of glasses clinking together echoes into the bedroom, and your heart pounds wildly. Then the pounding in your head starts up again, and for some reason you choose now to start crying. The tears start to brim, and you try desperately to keep them from going any further.

The sound of water running gets you out of bed fast, and you walk slowly to the bedroom door. You can see the kitchen light on through the crack, and the shadow of movement is there, too. His backpack is untouched at the end of the couch, and when you walk out to the hallway, you see his shoes next to yours. He’s washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

“Seungmin”

He jumps and almost drops the glass.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh,” he sighs, “I didn’t want you to have to clean all this up in the morning. I’m sorry, I’m done.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “Get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

One shoe is on, the other is halfway there as he stares at you. “Are you crying?”

You wipe at your cheek and feel what you couldn’t hold back.

Seungmin kicks his shoes off again and hesitates for a moment, but eventually, when you don’t speak, he closes the space between you. “You’re crying,” he takes your cheeks in his hands. “Please…if you won’t talk to me now, please call me tomorrow. Or text, I don’t care. Tell me you still feel the same as you do right now, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Stop it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and feel more tears escape. Seungmin’s warm embrace, his arms holding tight around your shoulders, it makes everything else fall away.

“Stop what?”

“Being so good, and patient, and calm. You should’ve run off by now”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? You think you should be punished for…yes, I remember you saying that…for what? I know you want this.”

All you can manage is a mumble against his chest.

He relaxes his arms and grips your waist, “what did you say?”

“I do”

“Want this? Or think you should be punished?”

More silence from you, but he waits.

“I’ll leave. And I hope I hear from you tomorrow.”

He lets go, and manages to get into his shoes before you say his name. As fed up as he should be hearing his name again, he’s not. Seungmin looks at you with hopeful, tired eyes.

“Yeah?” He watches you closely, tilts his head to the side. You can see his eyes moving up and down over your body, "tell me I can stay.”

Your legs shake and your head swims. The ache behind your eyes is growing worse and worse, but looking at him makes it bearable, somehow. Even now, he’s ready to run to you as soon as you say go. But you can’t figure out why.

Seungmin is still who he is, and you’re who you are, and you don’t really belong together. Someone will find out and put a stop to it. But what if things slowly start to connect; fall into place; work out for a while? Forever? No, that doesn't sound right. Loving him before was easy, because you assumed it would always be one-sided and simple; no worries about making something work, or about working toward something. Now this is real, and it's a little bit scary looking at him and realizing how much you want him, and how big this could get.

"Say something," he sighs, and it sounds nowhere near as irritated as it should.

Your gaze drops to your feet, defeated—it moves toward his, and again, he’s taking off his shoes. Seungmin stands there and faces you.

“Okay...okay."

─ ⋅♡⋅ ─

122 notes · View notes

kissami · 1 year

Text

☄︎. *. ⋆ PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME SO ALONE •°. *࿐

➵ in which cloud needed a reality check before it’s too late.

➵fem!reader with she/her pronouns!

➵ warnings: OOC cloud ??? jealously, mentions of aerith and zack, NOT PROOF READ BECAUSE IM LAZY LOL

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ‎ Pearls~ Sade

‎ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 0:20 〇────── 4:33

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Cloud never felt such confusion and heartache until this very moment that he was sitting in Seventh Heaven, drinking to his heart content.

Why did she leave me so alone?

He felt his hand itch towards his pocket, his phone that had her picture as his lock screen that he remembered taking when the two left Midgard for a small trip to watch the stars for the first time, had showed no notifications from anyone.

I miss her.

He thought as he chugged down the last remaining sips of his drink. He looked up, making eye contact with Tifa, his eyes pleading for another.

“I’m cutting you off tonight, Cloud. I can’t stand seeing you mope around like this anymore. You need to talk to her.”

He wanted to stubbornly say no and say he would do it later, that he just wanted to relax and drink to really think of what to do, but he knew she deserved better.

A better explanation, a better boyfriend even. But he was selfish. He was so selfish to leave the way he did and still wanting her back in his arms right after.

“I…I can’t…she hates me.” He whispered, playing with the red string on his arm as it seemed rather interesting now that his best friend had her attention on him.

“You know [Y/N] better than all of us, Cloud. You know she would never hate you no matter what you do. Bless that girls heart because she has more patience than anyone I’ve known.”

Cloud knew she was right, tifa always was as annoying as it was.

But yet, he still felt embarrassed, insecure, and scared that if he went back home, this would be it, that this was the end of the two.

“[Y/N] told me what you did. You’re a mean loser who deserves to sleep on the streets tonight.” Yuffie huffed as she juggled around three materia orbs in her small hands.

“I didn’t mean it.” He tried to explain, but his friends glances were all he needed to know to really fix things up before everything became worse.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t meet you so soon after her.”

He felt his chest ache and his eyes burn as he remembered those veil words escape his mouth earlier that day.

The two were arguing about god knows what, it was a pointless argument but you were so head on to stay talking about the situation instead of walking away like he would do, you really wanted to resolve this.

But he wouldn’t listen and you felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

You rather a brick wall than having to hear that sentence leave his lips.

You rather not ever hear a response from him again than ever feel the way you did the moment he yelled at you the way he did.

“For what it’s worth, Cloud. Y/N, truly loves you. Nothing would ever make her hate you, no matter how much sometimes we wish she did…maybe there would be someone who would truly love and appreciate her kindness.” Tifa bit her lip at Reno’s sincere words, everyone knew he what he said was honest from his heart.

Cloud knew it as well, which made him clench his jaw even harder.

Yuffie groaned, glaring at the red head as he shrugged, but everyone knew why he was pushing Cloud this way.

‘Just a little closer to the edge and he’ll jump.’

“I wonder how Zack would react with you crushing not only on his dead girlfriend, but being so hung up on her that you’re abandoning your own. I’d be embarrassed to even be mentioned in the same sentence if I were him.”

“You bastard!” Tifa made a small squeak as all the drinks on the bar were splashed away, a frail body now taking their places as the blond held a deathly grip on the turk’s neck.

“Cloud!” Everyone yelled, trying to get his steel grip on Reno off, but he wasn’t giving up just yet.

“Hurts doesn’t it? Words cloud, words hurt.” The two stared at each other, trying to beat the other from the harsh glares the two were piercing one another with. Usually Reno would back off rather quickly, joking around how serious Cloud looked.

But cloud was the one to look away this time. No words came from him as he picked up his buster sword, ignoring everyone’s concerned looks as he walked out of Seventh Heaven and into the cold night.

He grimaced as he saw his apartment that he lived with his girlfriend up ahead. No lights shinning like they usually would, the curtains drawn and no noises were heard. You could hear a pen drop from how quiet it was.

That scared him.

Cloud quickly unlocked the door, frowning as it already was unlocked when he knew [Y/N] and how she’d always lock the door after she came in or out, paranoid of the possibilities that could happen.

He almost lost his balance as he saw all of her clothes thrown all over the place, her shoes in the mix as well.

He walked slowly, gripping his sword tightly and made his way to their shared room. He couldn’t think straight, scared something or someone had taken her away from him once again.

But he felt a sense of relief when he heard sobs and sniffles coming inside yet his heart was aching at the same time.

Knocking on the the door slowly, Cloud felt his heart beat going faster than usual, hearing the way it gotten quiet all of a sudden.

“Go away, asshole.”

Ignoring her words, Cloud opened the door gently, his eyes immediately falling on her form that was sitting next to the window, the moon looming over her as her crystal like tears illuminated in the moonlight.

She looked so pretty when she cries.

Cloud placed his things down, making his way over. He felt his hands begin to shake as he gently picked her up and placed her on his lap.

A tight yet soft grip was launched onto her waist when she tried getting up, but to no luck she was staying put.

“Please just listen to me, okay? I want to apologize to you, baby.” He placed his cheek onto hers, feeling the tears that streamed down her face onto his as he held her and he continued.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for saying such hurtful things. I’m so glad I met you when I did. I said that out of anger, out of frustration and you didn’t deserve that. It was so wrong of me.”

He felt his own tears brim his eyes as he spoke and felt her form pausing as she took everything in.

“What Aerith and I had…it’s over and done with. Even if she…even if she was alive right now, deep in my heart I know I’d still fall for you. I’d go through that pain all over again just to be able to see a glance of you for just a second even if it meant you’d never would’ve been mine. You make everything worth fighting for and I’m so sorry.”

No words were spoken for a good while, but Cloud cried as he felt her sob in his neck, wrapping her arms around him as she faced his front in the chair they both sat on.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“I know baby, I know I am.” He moved her hair out of the way as he looked deep in her eyes, taking every crevice on her pretty face that he would never get tired of looking at.

“I love you, so much. Please don’t hate me.” A soft chuckle escaped her mouth and her head shook in disagreement.

“I could never hate you, Cloud. No matter the circumstances I could and never will hate you.”

#cloud strife #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #zack fair #cloud strife x reader #x reader #light angst #ff7 #cloud x reader #kissami #angst with a happy ending

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restlesswritingss · 16 days

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The Inevitable

Kakashi x reader

Rin adored her female classmates. Especially one, (Y/N). The two had grown close, almost as close as she and Obito, but with the added layer of being someone Rin could actually talk about her crush on Kakashi with. (Y/N) saw the appeal of the white haired shinobi, but he'd always picked on her. She too was an orphan and therefore couldn't feel much sympathy for his prickly personality. Everyone had been through things and lost loved ones, but not everyone was as much of an ass about it as Kakashi.

"He is just such a strong shinobi," Rin gushed, blushing while she braided (Y/N)'s hair before they went to meet up with the rest of her team.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes which Rin caught through the mirror they were kneeling in front of. She tugged playfully on her braid.

"Rinnnn, I just don't get what you see in him when he is such a prick," the other girl huffed.

Rin scoffed, "You sound just like Obito, but Kakashi just cares about the rules."

At the mention of Obito (Y/N) blushed. That was the boy she thought was crush worthy. But he liked Rin so it was a crush better kept inside. Rin was too caught up in speaking on Kakashi's good qualities to notice her reaction anyway.

Kakashi had noticed (Y/N)'s crush on Obito. It made him seethe for reasons he couldn't understand. Obito was such an idiot. How could anyone, let alone a decently respectable kunoichi like (Y/N), ever see him as crush worthy? Crushes were stupid anyway.

Kakashi and Obito were supposed to meet the girls at the city gates at seven, but Kakashi was the only one there ten minutes early. The girls got there with five minutes to spare with Rin excited as always to see him. (Y/N) had her hair in two braids, a way he'd never seen her wear it. For whatever reason it brought heat to his cheeks and distracted him from Rin's debrief on the mission.

This was one reason he hated going on missions with this girl. She was so distracting.

"Why is your hair like that (Y/N)?" Kakashi blurted out once Rin had finished her excited rambling.

Now heat rose to her cheeks along with a look of slight shock at being spoken to.

"W-what do you mean?" She mumbled, slightly defensively as her hands went to stroke one of the braids.

The thought of how soft her hair must feel went through his head. He shoved it aside.

"It's different and it's weird. Is it even safe for battle? Do you even think about anything besides vanity?"

Ok, he took it too far with the last question. He always took it a little too far, especially with her and Obito.

Shame overtook her face and Kakashi wanted to take it back, but instead he just dug his heels in and rolled his eyes at her.

"It's tied back, Rin braided it, and if you think it looks bad you can just say that," she huffed and turned her face away from him.

Rin stepped in between them with her hands in the air, ever the peackeeper.

But she was cut off by Obito, late but not as late as usual, butting in, "I think it looks cute (Y/N)! Kakashi don't be such an ass for once!"

Her eyes snapped to him and an embarrassed grin overtook her face at the compliment. Kakashi clenched his fist at this interaction going against him. He didn't care what they all thought of him, he only cared about being a good shinobi. He needed to focus on that.

Kakashi's focus would always wane whenever (Y/N) was involved.

Now they were older, Obito was gone, and he, (Y/N), Rin, and Gai were on a mission. Kakashi was the leader and he took his role ever more seriously. He would not loose another comrade due to his incompetance.

They had all taken refuge for the night in a cave with (Y/N) tending the fire to keep everyone warm while Rin healed he and Gai's wounds. Rin was tending to Gai in the moment, and Kakashi found his gaze falling on (Y/N) who had her back turned to him. She was hunched over the fire and he wanted to tell her to fix her posture. It was bad for her back.

"(Y/N)-" He began sternly but cut himself off when she turned to face him.

Again, an annoying heat went to his cheeks. Her hair was loose and her headband was off. Two strands were framing her face in a picture perfect way. How did she look pretty after fighting all day? Wait, did he just think she was pretty?

"What Kakashi?" She huffed, knowing he was going to scold her for something.

Kakashi was getting worse and worse at keeping his focus around her and it was pissing him off. He frowned and was about to snap something, anything, at her when Rin touched his arm.

She shook her head at him when he finally tore his gaze away from (Y/N). Rin then began gently healing the wounds on his stomach. She looked up at him and her pupils widened as she took him in this close. Kakashi wanted to feel something for Rin. She was pretty and he did love her, but he knew she wanted something romantic with him. Something he couldn't quite pinpoint was always holding him back from taking that step.

When Rin died, Kakashi regretted never taking that next step. Maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to sacrifice herself if she had something more to live for. He loved her, he should've shown it. He was pushing away the pain by plowing through missions and enemies, something his new position in Anbu only exasperated.

He hadn't spoken to (Y/N) in a couple weeks, but he knew she watered his plants and collected his mail when he was gone. She was the only person with a key to his current apartment. Their mutual grief had given them a momentary truce in their never ending bickering. Kakashi appreciated the way she attempted to take care of him from afar, but he missed her presence.

Today he ran into her while she was walking with Genma of all people. The two were laughing and walking a little ahead of him. Kakashi felt anger spike in his gut. It was visceral. Genma wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his body. Something in Kakashi snapped at the flagrant display of affection.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, effectively making her push Genma off as her face turned a bright shade of red.

Genma huffed and sent him a glare as the two stopped and waited for him to catch up to them.

"Yes Kakashi?" She asked, slightly annoyed.

Kakashi looked from her to Genma, assessing their body language. They were clearly embarrassed to be caught together. He met Genma's glare, annoyed at his embarrassment. There was no reason to be ashamed of being caught with (Y/N).

"I've been looking for you, I need to speak with you about a mission. Are you free right now?" Kakashi purposefully turned his body toward her, effectively shutting Genma out of the conversation.

She looked up at him and Kakashi realized how much their height difference had grown. Where she once could look him directly in the eye, now she was at his shoulder. She wasn't small, but still smaller than him. Why did he notice that?

She huffed, he always made her huff, "Fine whatever. Lead the way oh great shinobi warrior."

The sarcasm in her voice made him glare at her. He ignored it to turn on his heel and lead her towards his apartment.

"I'll call you later, Genma," She said behind his back.

Kakashi's fists clenched.

"You've always had shitty taste in guys but really? Genma?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he is an ass who is also in love with Anko but will fuck anyone who will let him."

Her footsteps stopped and he turned around to see tears welling in her eyes as she stared hard at the ground.

Her voice was quiet and he wouldn't have even heard it if he hadn't rushed back to stand close enough to barely have his body touching hers when she asked, "Really? Anko?"

Kakashi's heart sunk. He shouldn't have thrown that information in her face. Grabbing her upper arms, he pulled her into him and pushed her into a nearby alley to keep her tears away from prying eyes.

It was a stupid idea because now they were pushed even closer together.

He leaned down to speak softly to her, "Yeah, they have been on and off for a while now. Whenever they are off he finds a new flavor of the week to convince her and himself he doesn't care. But, he inevitably always goes back to her."

She sighed, defeated and smacked her head into his chest.

"I am so stupid," her voice was muffled by his body but at least he wasn't wearing his Anbu chest plate.

Somehow his body knew how to comfort her even when his mind couldn't keep up. She was so close. His hands moved on their own accord, one cradling the back of her head and the other wrapping around her back to pull her closer.

Her arms slunk around his middle. The embrace rewired Kakashi's brain in an instant. This was what he never felt with Rin, or anyone for that matter. Warmth flowed through him. Every time she had come over after his father had passed to just keep him company, every time she had made his heart race and cheeks blush, every time he had been struck by how beautiful she was, playing on loop in his head.

He squeezed her tighter and spoke gently into her hair, "You aren't stupid, he is just an asshole."

She sniffled and laughed, "You're one to talk."

He chuckled and the vibration of his chest made her burrow her face further into him. It was comforting to be his arms.

It made something click in her head. Something that had always felt off about her relationship to Kakashi. She wanted him and she always had. She'd pushed down her own feelings because of Rin. The thought of Rin made her chest constrict in a mix of shame and grief.

She pulled away and quickly wiped at her eyes trying to lighten the mood again with the joke, "I guess this is the mythical soft side Rin always insisted you had."

The mention of Rin was a bucket of water on Kakashi. How could he betray her like this? By thinking of her best friend like this?

But now the floodgates were open and he couldn't stop thinking about her best friend like this. The way (Y/N) looked away from him and bit her lip, obviously hoping the joke didn't hurt his feelings, made his chest twist. She was so cute, how had he never noticed? Her hair was in two braids. She was playing with the ends of one, and he had a sense of deja vu as the thought of how soft her hair must feel struck him.

This couldn't happen. This was a betrayal of Rin, and Obito who would have eventually realized (Y/N)'s feelings if he'd had the chance to grow up. Where would they be if those two were still alive? The obvious answer was Kakashi would be with Rin and Obito would have wised up and been with (Y/N).

Then why did the idea of Kakashi being with (Y/N) feel so inevitable?

Author's Note: I have the second part outlined but I just didn't have time to fully write it right now. Will be up soon if anyone wants it! Or let me know if you're fine with this ending here and want me to shut the fuck up!

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake imagine

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ticklygiggles · 2 months

Text

A bored King and a poor ticklish servant | Mobei-Jun x Shang Qinghua

A/N: A little gift for a very dear friend's birthday! I hope this fics reaches you! Happy birthday! 🎂 This is a fandom I haber never written for, and it's been sooo long since I read the novel, but I hope you enjoy it! We miss you! ❤️

Summary: What's a servant use but entertain his King? At what extend though?

This is not N$FW but there are mild mentions of things

“M-My King,” Shang Qinghua stuttered, shifting his position for the umpteenth time and groaning when he was forced back in place by a cold, firm hand on his hip. “My King… I've been sitting here for a while now, and with all due respect, you're not the most comfortable piece of furniture out there and something has been poking at me, maybe we could please move-

“Shut it,” Mobei-Jun said against his ear and Shang Qinghua shivered, feeling the freezing breathing swirling into his ear canal. “I am working.”

“That I can see, My King,” he answered, his head nodding softly as he eyed the bunch of reports scattered across the desk. At first, he was willing to help Mobei-Jun, but when the Clan Leader simply sat him down onto his lap, silently ordering him to stay put.

Shang Qinghua didn't put up a fight, after all it was useless, and it wasn't like he hated being there… but it had been ages. His butt was hurting and the blush spread across his cheeks everytime he moved and felt Mobei-Jun’s… ahem... He was a very gifted man, that was all he could say.

There was nothing left but to resign himself, so letting out a long sigh, he leaned against Mobei-Jun's strong and muscular chest. It really was like leaning against a wall, but a little softer, just a little, but he was happy. No matter how much he looked at him, Mobei-Jun was definitely his best creation. A beautiful and handsome face chiseled in cold marble. A body that made his mouth water every time they were intimate. He has always been his favorite character and his ideal person, so being in his arms like that, well, maybe he was thankful that he accidentally electrocuted himself to death.

Now they were even husbands! Destiny does have a million things prepared that one would not even-

“Haah! My King!” Shang Qinghua gasped heavily, squirming in Mobei-Jun's lap. “M-My K-King! We've talked about this before! You need to warn me before touching my bare skin with your hands! You are always so c-cohohold ahahand- ahahahaha!”

Sudden, embarrassing giggles sputtered out as he felt a soft squeeze on his left side. Shang Qinghua squirmed, but Mobei-Jun's hand was latched to him. He didn't noticed until it was too late, one of Mobei-Jun’s had slipped one hand under his clothes and was now tickling him silly.

“My Kihihing! Oh! Yohohou knohohow I'm teheherribly tihihihicklish! Y-You cahahahannot–

“I said I'm working.”

“Ihihi apohohilogihihize profuhuhusely, b-but yohohou reheheally- ahahahack, my Kihihing plehehehease!”

This was terrible. Shang Qinghua never thought that Mobei-Jun would be so attracted to tickling him after two nights ago he discovered that Shang Qinghua's body was horribly sensitive to gentle, playful touches. Since that day, there wasn't a moment where Shang Qinghua wasn't laughing like an idiot if he was within a meter of Mobei-Jun's reach. He was grateful that at least Mobei-Jun kept his little games to himself when the two of them were alone, but still! His laugh sounded so silly and embarrassing. If Shang Qinghua could, his head would be buried inside the earth like an ostrich.

Erratic and silly giggles filled the studio as one of Mobei-Jun's icy hands squeezed Shang Qinghua's side, skittered his fingers against his ribs, clawed at his tummy, pinched at his hip and also wiggled his fingers under his arm. His hand was so fast that Shang Qinghua didn't even try to stop him and simply wriggled like a fish out of water while laughing his head off.

“Plehehehease, my Kihihing!” He begged again, feeling tears in his eyes as Mobei-Jun decided to settle under his arm, his whole body leaning to the opposite side. “Thihihis pohohoor sehehervahahant cahahan't tahake thihihis anymohohore! I'm vehehery tihihicklish thehehere!”

Mobei-Jun simply hummed, but no matter what he said, he seemed deaf to his words. Shang Qinghua’s clothes were in disarray, his tunic open and falling off one of his shoulders. His face was definitely red and his laugh- no, he didn't even want to talk about it.

Also... why was Mobei-Jun tickling him right at that moment?! Hadn't he said that he was busy with the silly reports of him? Ah, he probably had grown bored, right? And instead of giving Shang Qinghua a sweet, heated kiss, he decided to torment him with his biggest weakness. How was that fair?

“I need you to stop moving right now,” Mobei-Jun said, but his fingers kept wiggling under Shang Qinghua's arm, driving him up the wall.

Shang Qinghua shook his head. “I cahahan't! I cahahahannohot! It tickles so bahahahd!”

Mobei-Jun growled and Shang Qinghua squealed when he was suddenly manhandled into the wooden floor. Mobei-Jun straddled him as he gathered both Shang Qinghua's wrists in one of his hands. Shang Qinghua opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but only laughter came out.

“NOHOHO, PLEHEHEASE!” He shrieked as Mobei-Jun used his free hand to wreak havoc in both his armpits. Shang Qinghua was in hysterics in just two seconds; he cackled and kicked, squirmed and pulled at his arms, but they barely flinched in Mobei-Jun’s grasp. “MY KIHIHING! I'm gohohonna dihihie!”

Above him Mobei-Jun was smiling faintly, tender eyes tracing Shang Qinghua's features. Shang Qinghua was simply dying, laughing and jumping every time Mobei-Jun jumped from one underarm to the other.

“HAHAVE MEHEHERCY PLEHEHEASE!” Tears of laughter clinged to his lashes and rolled down the sides of his face. He was definitely going to die again. And by tickling this time! Would his third death be also embarrassingly pathetic too? What a disgrace, he-

“Ohohoho, gohohoodnehehess, thahahank you!” He said breathlessly as the tickling stopped. He went limp as his arms were released and gently moved down. “M-My Kihing,” he chuckled softly as Mobei-Jun gently touched his cheek. Shang Qinghua leaned against the cold hand. “If yohou w-wanted my attention so much, you c-could have a-asked.”

Mobei-Jun’s face remained neutral as he looked down at his husband, but Shang Qinghua had learned to read his expression and he clearly saw he was sulking. Shang Qinghua smiled, oh that was adorable.

“Let this servant help you relax for a while, My King,” he said, wrapping his arms around Mobei-Jun's neck and bringing him closer to his face for a kiss. “This servant knows exactly what his King needs, leave everything to me- w-wahait! Watch your hands, please, if you tickle me I- ahahaha!”

Ah, so he was feeling playful, huh? Well… it was alright, Shang Qinghua thought he could probably stand another tickle attack if Mobei-Jun wanted to torture him so much. It was the last thing he could do after being blessed with his perfect side character!

#scum villian self saving system #scumbag system #scumbag self saving system #mobei jun #mobei-jun #shang qinghua #moshang #mobei jun x Shang Qinghua #ticklish!Shang Qinghua #tickle fic #mia's things #mia's fics

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kaizdreamz · 6 months

Text

Xiao drabbles as I suffer from insomnia.

i really love Xiao, like. It's so much sometimes, I wanna write him but sometimes I start choking up on my words and everything becomes 10x more difficult, I'd possibly do everything I could to protect him. Like everyone has that one character they love more than love itself and for me that's Xiao.

Comfort drabble, SFW, romantic elements, established relationship. A bit of angst. Mention of death.

Xiao is sensitive, like in battle he doesn't think about being touched as much, but when it's you. Gently tracing his cheek with your thumb, your lips on his. The soft tug of your hand on his lithe waist, oh how his limbs turn to jelly and it takes everything in his power not to melt in your touch.

Xiao sometimes will go missing for days and it has always worried you, but you know it's okay, he's okay. You feel it on the breeze, the occasional butterfly leaf on your nightstand or sometimes a flower picked freshly from a field, it reminds you that he's alive.

When he comes back late, your reading in your bed, the overthinking had gotten too much for you and you decided sleeping wasn't an option anymore. He teleported in your room, nearly making you scream.

"Sorry.." he was the first to speak, you immediately could tell something was wrong... you sat up, climbing out of bed and opening your arms before him.

He didn't say much, just furrowed his eyebrows and closed his mournful eyes and basically melted in your arms. He knows he can't bring back his family, friends, things can't be the same as they once were. But, heavens knows he would do anything to bring them back.

"It'll be okay," you mumble against his ear, rubbing his back gently. He doesn't cry. You know of his karmic debt, how the memories of his family slain before his very eyes, how much torture and pain he has delt with.

"..."

"Xiao," you whisper against his head, hugging him close.

"hm."

"You've done so much for Liyue, my hero," you run your hands through his hair, he tenses. "Do you want to lay down for a little bit? I know you don't need to sleep, but your muscles are so tense.." he reluctantly agrees and lays with his head on your chest as you softly massage his shoulders.

Xiao will hold your hand as you sleep, watching your sleeping frame. Sometimes he'll reach over and brush your hair to the side and admire from his side of the bed. Other times he can't help but press a soft kiss on the back of your hand and then get embarrassed about it a few moments later.

His hearing is insane, he can hear anything and everything, like. Dude, you can't sneak up on him, he hears your steps, recognizes them immediately. You tried surprising him with a hug but it immediately backfired by him turning around mid lunge and he just gave you the most confused look of your entire life.

Sometimes though, you're lucky. He'd get lost in thought, his mind filled with memories of his family, wars he's been in, Lantern rite, etc. You wrapped your arms around his hips, your head on his shoulders, it snapped him back to reality in a instant.

"what were you thinking about?" You asked him.

"...memories," you didn't pry any further, only hugging him slightly tighter, he didn't mind it at all. He closed his eyes as his relaxes in your hold, his hand intertwined with yours.

"I asked them for Almond tofu for you,"

He rolls his eyes, "you didn't have to do that,".

"hm, but you've done so much," you blow into his ear which makes him shiver pleasantly. "Let me treat you to something lovely, yeah?"

He nods slowly.

He stares at the moon, longingly. His tired eyes blink slowly as his lip quivers. He hates getting to this point, he knows emotions are "human", as you like to call it. But it pains him, drains him of energy Everytime he does cry.

His heart feels as if it's shattering, the flashbacks of his brothers and sisters flood his mind, the domestic moments, pulling pranks, laughing with each other. Daydreaming of the future, oh, how he wishes he could've prevented their demises.

"I'll see you all within the stars once I have done my oath, my brothers and sisters..." he'll whisper to himself, clutching his polearm as a shooting star flies past.

He doesn't indulge himself in philosophies and legends of that humans, but he lets himself make a wish. He wishes, humans and adepti— won't suffer with the unbearable sins that he has to carry until his final breath. That night he teleports to the Inn, the warm, lively atmosphere long since died once the sun had set. It was quiet, you and the others were asleep in your respective rooms.

He appears in your room, watching you engulf yourself further into the soft blanket on the bed. You were having pleasant dreams, it calmed his heart and mind. He brushes your hair to the side, tucking it behind your ear. Pressing a soft kiss to your head, he debates joining beside you, just to lay there. There was no reason to sleep, but his muscles ached and he was afraid you would have a nightmare if he got too close.

I hope you enjoyed this, I enjoy writing for Xiao but I get too self conscious sometimes so I never post it.

#junesl1ght_#Genshin drabble #Xiao drabble #Xiao fluff #Xiao comfort #Xiao x reader #fluff #genshin fanfic #gn reader #xiao angst

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aka-libby · 10 months

Text

Counting Our Regrets

Aki Hayakawa x gn!reader | established relationship | semi-canon [ domestic tooth rotting!fluff + angst (with happy ending/comfort) ]

Word count: 4.3k

Warning(s): mentions/implied topic of de*th, insecurities about love, VERY BRIEF mentions about rough past regarding home life

Summary: Aki hated you at first but after a series of events his view on you changed. Now you’re together as a couple, with the regrets of wasting all that time hating and being avoidant of the inevitable spark you had. Yet even with these regrets on the both of you, it’s when you’re in his apartment having dinner like any other night that he finally realized how he truly feels about you.

A/N: So I have a story in the WIP folder that explains their past and how they became the couple here in this fic. There is a LOT to unfold and it’s honestly a drain to write angst and pain all the time SOOOOO I would write this fic when I’m bored and somehow I finish this one first…. so now here we are. I do hope it’s not confusing but hints enough context for readers to understand the development of the two. Plus I’m WAYYYYY too impatient to wait to post this cause I’m so PROUD OF IT UGH.

Anyways enjoy.

“Is it weird that I still get a bit nervous every time he invites me over for dinner?”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Really?! It’s been so long now. Just breathe and treat it like any other time you guys are together.”

You’re glaring at them, even though they can’t see it. “I’m serious. You know how the past was, we hated each other… well he hated me. I don’t blame him though, it was in every way my fault for how things are but… still.”

Your friend probably heard the change in your tone towards the end. The mischievous aura drips from them. “I understand but the situation has changed now. You stopped being a lil brat and he realized the amazing person that you are underneath it. He fell for you instantly, I see it and am reminded of it everyday when I see you two in the same room.”

“Really?” You are curious now about what they meant. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” The utter disbelief from their tone surprises you more. “The way he looks at you speaks millions. Like a moth lured to a bright ass light. I believe it.”

You smile as your chest lightens from the doubts slipping off you. Their words really eased your mind. “That’s… cute.” Images of Aki flash in your mind of all the times he would get embarrassed when caught showing any form of affection. “He’s really sweet.”

“He is and it is cute but also utterly revolting.” They gag through the phone. “You two are so lovesick for one another and yet SOOOO oblivious at the same time. My eyes get cavities from seeing you two within the same radius.”

The both of you chuckle a bit before they bids their farewell. “Now go in and enjoy the dinner, okay? Tell me more about it later.”

“I will. See you soon.” You say before ending the call.

The grip on the plastic bags you have to your side tightens as you take a deep breath in and out. You know more than anyone this night will be just like any other night. Just a casual dinner with 2 co-workers/friends and your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Your lips form into a soft smile as the title lingers in your head. It feels too surreal to be together now after a year of discord between you and Aki. Then a time period of uncertainty of what kind of relationship you guys had. It was the result of the change with his thoughts about you and your thoughts about life. With Himeno’s death being the catalyst to it all.

It doesn’t help that both of you have gone through great suffering revolving around death. Life is unfair to both of you. His family was taken away so suddenly by a worldwide Devil attack while yours…

Agh, the thought hurts too much to think about.

Even with all the hurt, pain, and self projecting in denial of the truth of it all you two somehow ended up here, together. It made you happy to realize that after so long but so late. With time still ticking every single second, it’s only sooner than later that both your lives could end so suddenly.

With Aki’s time limit down to 2 years and yours still in the air, anything could happen at any moment. It was hard carrying the regret of projecting your trauma and fear of abandonment to the relationships around you. How you pushed others away to protect them and yourself. It wasn’t fair to you or your comrades.

They never got to meet the real you.

Your thoughts are cut from the feral screech coming from behind Aki’s door. You know all too well who it was, and you smile softly from the moment, as it reminds you to be present in the present. No time to dwell on your regrets, it will only waste more of your limited time.

You are with Aki now, that’s all that matters.

Finally, you take the last few steps over to Aki’s door. Knuckles barely hovering over the door before it’s busted open.

Power cheers out your name as she pulls you in for a half hug, arm over your shoulder. Her eyes don’t meet yours, instead they’re on the bags at your sides. “You brought food for me?! I'm STARVIN.”

“Hey!” a familiar voice echoes from inside. “That’s no way to treat guests!”

Power is quick to nag back at him with a roll of her eyes before taking the bags out of your hands. “Allow me!” She excitedly offers but you know there are other intentions behind her kindness. Your head shakes from her obvious facade.

Walking into the Hayakawa Residence, you instantly envelop yourself in the comforting feeling of your second home. The smell of the three housemates and the aroma of home cooked food wafts into your nose causing your previous insecurities to flee. Is this what it's like to be at ease? You’re pretty sure it is by how safe you feel once the door closes behind you.

Turning around the corner, you see Aki casually stirring a mixture of veggies in a savory sauce in a wok. It instantly waters your mouth. “Hi Love.” You greet walking over to where he is in front of the stovetop.

It was then you realize what your friend’s comment meant earlier, about how Aki looks at you. His eyes instantly shine with adoration and his body is fully turned towards you, letting go of whatever he was focused on to meet you halfway. Once you’re within his grasp, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head.

“Hello love, was the trip here okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.” He apologizes before rubbing your back soothingly.

Shaking your head to look up, you reassure him with a smile. “It’s fine, don't worry. I can’t expect you to always pick me up and host a dinner.”

“I know but I would rather do it knowing you are safe than for you to take a taxi or walk here.” He tells you softly with his arms now draped over waist, his hands interlocked behind you. Blue eyes still looking at you. “Next time I’ll open my schedule up to do so.”

You instantly shake your head. “No, you’ve done too much for me.”

He looks at you softly, almost bittersweetly. “It feels like I haven’t done enough.”

Your lips are already on his nose before he could continue. “You’re perfect.”

Those insecurities leave him and it’s replaced by the previous admiration he first had when you walked into his field of view. Instead of replying, he just pulls you in for another tight hug, his cheek now on top of your head. His indirect way of saying many things with one action.

You mean the world to me.

I appreciate you.

Thank you.

Pulling back from the hug to check up on the veggies he was stirring earlier, you point towards the living room, where Power and Denji lay as they go through the plastic bag you brought. “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some extra food I prepared yesterday and sweets.”

“Mmm you didn’t have to. I made extra food too.” He explains as he tosses the veggies around the sauce, evenly coating each cut piece. “But I do appreciate it, thank you love.”

I smile and wrap an arm around his torso. “I don’t mind. It was going to rot in my fridge anyways with how often I eat here. Plus, you have 2 extra mouths to feed.”

His soft eyes gloss over to you, and he can’t help but feel the need to kiss the side of your head. “You’re the best.”

“Oi! Can you cook faster and stop flirting so much!” I hear Denji yell from across the place. Aki’s soft feature forms a frown as he goes to scold Denji for interrupting the moment.

Just now remembering you had more people in the room, you walk off to where the other two reside. Both are already munching on the baked goods you’ve brought, happily enjoying it while watching their show.

“Like em?” You ask Denji as you sit down next to Power. Her cat senses your presence, immediately heading over to you, purring happily under your loving touches. “Hi cutie.”

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he replies back with his mouth stuffed. “Therwe realu-

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Aki scolds from the kitchen.

“Whamever.” He dismisses but gulps it down anyways before continuing. “Good ass…” He draws a blank. You watch the way the gears in his mind slowly rotate as they try to put together a coherent sentence. “Good ass goods!”

Power slams her hand flat onto his back, repeatedly slapping him, and causes poor Denji to choke mid consumption of the said goods. Her boisterous laugh echoes within their flat. “You sound more stupid than usual!” She hollers out then starts shaking him.

He starts to cough from all the sudden movements and finally dryly swallows the food. Despite watching Denji almost choke, you can’t help but laugh from watching the events unfold. They really were siblings by heart.

As the conversation slowly dies, Aki takes this opportunity to step outside to smoke. Everyone sits comfortably in the ambience. With the sound of the Tokyo nightlife and the lowered volume of the TV playing some random channel, it really lured everyone to a relaxed state of mind.

It could be the combination of good food and it being quite late into the night that caused both Denji and Power to pass out on the ground. Your buzzy self smiles at the sight of them, so peaceful from the food coma. The whole environment feels so… nice.

It was somewhat odd for you. Your body is aware of the empty space where your walls and guard used to be. Not really used to this feeling of being safe and secure. Growing up in a chaotic and unstable household really puts a toll on you and your point of view on what a safe home should make you feel.

In a way, you never really felt at “home” before.

The silence you’re used to in your own apartment isn’t much different compared to what you’re currently experiencing now, but it makes you feel different. You don’t feel lonely or alienated. You feel…. comfortable. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact you are now just appreciating what a domestic life is like, but it’s a new foreign feeling. Nonetheless, it’s not unwelcome, it’s more than welcome.

You hope this doesn’t come to an end anytime soon.

Taking in a sip of the alcohol of your choice, your eyes pick up on the mess that surrounds you. Dirty plates, unfinished platters of food, both used and unused napkins sprawled over the table. Overall it was just messy, but honestly this is what's expected from a late night dinner with Power and Denji involved.

Without another thought, you stood up with your wobbly tipsy legs and started to clean up. Picking up the empty cans and garbage as you scout the room for more.

“Hey.” Aki calls out for you, head just barely poking into the apartment.

You look up at him, an empty beer can in hand. “Hey.” You greet, confused.

His brows lowered from your response. “I wasn’t saying hi. What’re you doing?”

“Oh.” A giggle escapes from your lips from your tipsy brain. You continue to pick up the beer cans and toss them into the recycling bag. “Cleaning up.” You answer simply.

“You’re a guest.” He starts off walking towards you and takes the bag. “You should be relaxing.”

“You hosted this Aki, in your own home. The least I can do is help clean up just a bit.” You explain then immediately start to stack all the dirty dishes. “How about you get the garbage and I’ll do the dishes. Hm? How does that sound?”

Leaving no room for him to argue further, you leave the living room and head to the kitchen. Aki watches as you walk away happily with the stack of dishes in hand. You look over to him once, an eyebrow raised from his stare.

“What?” You ask as you hold a soapy dish sponge in one hand and a dirty plate in the other, scrubbing away the grim and food off the plates one by one.

A lot of thoughts are running through his mind but he makes no attempt to show it. He just shrugs and chuckles. “Nothing.”

Both of you fall back into comfortable silence. Only breaking it to drop a couple of small talk here and there. With the TV still running in the back, now on the news channel. You make notes on a few topics the news anchor mentions and Aki does the same, feeling comfortable with the surface level talks.

Nothing about this was new to either of you. You always offer freely to clean up when invited over and Aki follows up by refusing you from doing so. A routine both of you are accustomed to for the past couple of months. In some way, you should feel content or happy being with someone who flows with you so easily and has grown accustomed to you over time.

But as your thoughts simmer a bit longer, a bitter side to all of this comes around. You’re reminded of the reality you’re truly in. Both you and Aki’s death are determined when you both sign your life away to Public Safety. With Aki being two years left and yours possibly just as short.

The unwavering and daunting feeling never goes away and always ruins moments like these you want to cherish and really be in, to really exist in. No matter how much you try to avoid it, the feeling was and is always there. It doesn’t help that a good chunk of your time with Aki was wasted on avoiding getting to this intimate point in your relationship.

The person you were back then would’ve looked down on you. How could you give in to these selfish desires? Get into a relationship with someone knowing the limited time you have left. It wasn’t fair to them or you. A cruel ending to have to anyone. So you did what at the time felt like the best thing to do, barricaded yourself from the world.

You were committed to keeping a facade up. A mock up personality to shield you and others from getting close to you. You hoped you could keep up with it long enough that one day you leave this world and feel relief no one would experience grief like you did.

Sadly even with trying to avoid the inevitable, you landed in the worst possible position ever. To end up regretting what you did and having to accept the conditions your fear set out for you. If only you gave up sooner than later. Maybe just maybe you would have enjoyed more of these moments with Aki.

“You okay?”

Your head whips to him, ocean eyes hold much concern. “Yeah why?”

He frowns, not convinced at all. “You’re shaking.”

It’s when he mentions it that you realized your shaky hands. Instantly you shove whatever lingering thought you had left and try to play it off as something else, despite knowing he wouldn’t believe you. “Just….” You trail off drawing a blank for an excuse.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” He scolds but his actions don’t mirror his words as he pulls you in for an embrace. “There’s something bothering you. You can talk to me, you know?”

You have… Already. It was a topic that was brought up quite often between the two of you. It was hard to really fully walk past the topic. No advice or form of communication would really ease the both of you of what’s yet to come. But it does in some way help temporarily. At least, until you come back to the same thought again like now.

A sigh leaves your lips when you snuggle closer into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his large frame. “You already know what it is.”

The same sigh leaves his lips as his grip tightens. “I’m here nonetheless.”

Much to his response, it does say a lot. Both of you fall into another routine. Where one would be reminded of the ticking time bomb and the other comes around to comfort them. Neither of you felt the need to speak more with how often it happens. It was a silent way of saying “I’m tired of this too, but just know I’m here for you if you wanna talk more. Just say it and I’ll be here to listen.”

After a few moments, you finally pull back to look at him. A bittersweet smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

His arms never leave you. Instead, they are holding the sides of your arms, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into you. “Anytime.”

Finishing up the last bit that was needed to be done, you both head out to the balcony. You pulled a bit of the curtain from inside to shield where his dingy white lawn chair was on his balcony. A simple but not really effective way to have some privacy from the sleeping children. As you close the sliding glass door, the chills of the night are apparent on your bare arms.

Aki sits down first then signals for you to take the spot on his lap. “Sit, I’m not making you stand.”

Well, you can’t really deny such a tempting offer. You smile at him before doing just that. Both of you adjust yourselves a bit before settling comfortably in the current position. Your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist, and fingers intertwined on your lap.

The soft buzz of the night life from his quiet neighborhood drowns out your thoughts as you stare aimlessly at the street lights. His arm that was once on your waist now hoists up just below your upper back. He pulls you in closer.

“Hm?” You question the sudden movement.

Aki is silent for a few seconds before talking. “I was just thinking.”

You return the same silence before saying. “Care to elaborate?”

“I…” He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to say.

There was just too much to say and too little of the time to say it at that moment. No amount of words or poems could describe the cloud 9 feeling he gets when he sees you there, just existing in his world. It reminds him so much of everything that it overwhelms his mind and makes him draw a blank during moments like this.

Where he wants to say everything but can’t.

So many words and sentences just zoom around him like dust in the air getting blown until it turns into a tornado. Every fleeting thought gets thicker and stronger. It consumes his mind and he can’t choose nor figure out what he wants to say during moments like these. What’s something that could just say everything he needs to say all at once? To tell you he appreciates you. Wants to stay like this with you forever. To continue to live in each other's presence until time stops him for good.

To see you come through that damn door again with a big smile and sparkling eyes as you hold bags of food in both your hands happily. While greeting him with that god forsaken fucking melodic voice of yours.

It hits him.

It’s so simple but it finally hits him.

He looks down at you, meeting your eyes one last time as his nervousness clogs his own throat. The phrase in itself is simple but the meaning is so heavy, so meaningful to him that it almost scares him away from being able to say it. But it’s the only thing that really describes this feeling he feels for you.

God he should really shut up and just say-

“I love you.”

He watches closely to the way your face reacts to this statement, both out of fear and excitement. It’s when he sees the way your eyes get slightly glossy and your cheeks burn bright in warm hues like a sunrise that he reflects the same expression with the biggest smile.

Not much is said. Only the sound of multiple pecks and tender kisses from Aki as he covers your whole face with love. You giggle like a lil highschool girl from all the affection. After almost basically covering 90% of your face in kisses, you finally get a word in. Feeling overwhelmed from joy and love.

“I love you too.” You finally say, holding his face close til your noses are just barely touching. “I… Never thought you could ever love me.”

He understands very well what you meant by that. Given the history between the two of you, but he doesn’t care. At least at this moment he doesn’t. The rays of pure unfiltered feeling of love is all too consuming and subtly blinds him from truly acknowledging the double meaning to your statement.

“We have gone off on the wrong foot and I know we both regret heavily how late it is to be in this position.” He starts off in a whisper then tilts his head slightly to rub the side of your noses, lips barely hovering over yours. “But to me, in this very moment with you, without all the worries we had been dealing with before for weeks. Hell fucking months!” Raising his tone just a bit to playfully emphasize the last part of his statement. “I know for sure I love you. The person here on my lap. The body that holds your beautiful heart and the beautiful heart that holds your soul. From every bit and piece of you, that is all for me to love until I can no longer feel.”

You feel your face get more red with every word being said. It absolutely stuns you to the core and you can’t get your mind to put together a sentence or a single word to say. You’re not used to this true unadulterated form of love. It completely fried your brain, and the only response or reaction you gave were tears.

“I…” You first choke out. “I didn’t do anything special.” You sob out. The big insecure part of you is in some way confused by his declaration. “All I’ve done is hurt you, Aki. I don’t understand.”

He quickly adjusts your positions enough to fully face you from above. Your eyes are bloodshot red, cheeks wet from tears. It’s so painful to see the doubts you’ve had hidden from him resurface but he doesn’t mind. Cause you’re you. He loves you for you, therefore he loves all that comes with you.

Aki starts to kiss your tears and gently guides you to sit up on his lap. Both his hands on your cheeks, wiping the remaining falling tears with his thumbs.

“Hurt is inevitable. We’re human, hurting others will always happen whether we intended to or not. I forgive you love, because I understand what it’s like to be scared of connecting. Especially in the field we’re working in.” His voice is tender and gentle, reassuring you with much sincerity.

He takes the time to really admire every little detail about you. How your hair frames your face. The little scratches and scars from Devil attacks on the cheeks he loves to kiss. How your eyes hold every single emotion that shapes the person you are today.

Your entire being is everything to him.

“You were made to be loved. I don’t care what person or experience made you believe you weren’t but I’m telling you this now sincerely that you were made to be loved inside and out.”

As each word escapes his lips, he can’t help but inch your face closer and closer and closer until his lips just barely hover over yours.

“Especially by me.”

There was a part of you that wanted to scream at him for lying. For spewing out such bullshit to you at this moment. Cause how can someone so beautiful like him love someone so complex and messy like you? How is that possible?

Whatever the case was, there was a stronger, more hopeful side to you that believes everything he claims. It constantly clashes swords with your insecurities. The same insecurities that made you push him away.

And you know better than to do that now.

He watches the way your eyes light up just a bit as a smile forms. “I love you Aki. Thank you for being…. You.”

It’s after saying that you finally lean in and kiss him with all the same love and care he has for you. He makes no mistake to delay this. Kissing you back with all his entirety. Your souls intertwine through an invisible bond the more the kiss deepens. Unspoken love of affirmations set ablaze the passion you have for each other.

And in that very moment, both of you knew no matter how much time you guys wasted wishing and counting your regrets. You still had each other. As bittersweet as it is, that’s all anyone could ask for.

Well… Aki is hoping he could ask for your hand in marriage but let’s leave that for another time.

A/N: thanks for reading! please let me know if you see any mistakes with the gn!reader pov, this is my first :)

#aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x gn!reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa fluff #aki hayakawa angst #aki x reader #chainsaw man fanfic #aki hayakawa fanfic #self insert #domestic fluff

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months

Text

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

A/N: Oops, this wasn't supposed to be so long. I've been working on it for the last couple of days, trying to get Steve’s family background just right.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Eddie's POV

Eddie sat up in bed with a start and looked at the clock on his bedside table. Oh, fuck he was going to be late. He had spent worrying about how things were going to go that he didn't get very much sleep last night. He had spent that time trying to pick out an outfit, which was stupid because it wasn't like it was a date. The idea of them dating wasn't totally weird though. He knew that three people could date, but the idea that both of them wanted him at the same time. . .it was absurd. Besides, it was clear to see that Steve had eyes for Nancy Wheeler. Not that Eddie could blame him for it, and he certainly couldn't blame Nancy for looking back at him. Eddie tried to get out of bed, but his legs got tangled in the sheets, and he fell out instead.

"I'm fucking cursed," Eddie groaned.

"I keep telling you that you probably pissed off Mother Nature at some point when you were little. Right little terror, you are," Wayne called from the kitchen.

"Ha fucking ha, Uncle Wayne, you're so funny," Eddie growled as he stomped into the kitchen and stole a sip of Wayne's coffee.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, son?" Wayne asked.

"I'm going to hang out with a couple of friends of mine. I woke up late," Eddie said.

"New friends?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, uh, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler," Eddie replied.

"Harrington? He ain't kin to Otis Harrington, is he?" Wayne asked.

"I think Steve mentioned something about his grandfather's name being Otis," he said. "We're supposed to go through his grandfather's salon today. I volunteered to help him."

"He thinking about reopening it?" Wayne asked.

"I think so. His parents don't really want him to. I met his mom. She's a real. . . bitch," Eddie said.

"Knew his grandfather back when he had the salon open. He was a great man. Did real good on my hair. It was such a shame when he had to close it, and then when he passed," Wayne said. "It's nice that Steve wants to do that and it was real nice that you offered to help."

"Well, it's nothing," Eddie shrugged and pressed an obnoxious kiss to his bald spot. "I'm going to get ready, old man. See you later."

"Boy! I hate it when you do that!"

"No, you don't!"

A moment later, Eddie came out freshly showered wearing his nicest pair of black jean shorts and a new Dio tank top.

"That's a nice shirt. Is it new?" Wayne asked, looking at him knowingly.

"Shut it," Eddie said.

"I was just pointing it out. Your hair is all up in a bun. . .that's nice. Oh, I see you have a fresh coat of black paint on your nails," Wayne said.

"Stop pointing things out! I'm leaving now!" Eddie exclaimed as he slipped on his vest.

"Which one of them are you interested in, son?" Wayne asked with a chortle.

"Leaving!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Don't come back pregnant. It's bad enough I spoil you, I don't need a grand baby to back up those goddamn cow eyes of yours," Wayne laughed affectionately.

Eddie rolled his eyes, huffed, and walked out the door. He popped his head back in a moment later.

"You're lucky I love you, old man," Eddie said and flipped him off.

Eddie cackled as he walked to his van. He loved him even if he could be such an embarrassing dad sometimes, which Eddie wouldn't admit that he loved. Wayne was always there for him, but he picked up a lot of parental moves once his dad officially walked out of his life. He's always been pretty supportive of everything he's done, even if he didn't like it himself, like showing up to his talent show and listening to him play and on his days off he'd sneak into the Hideout to watch him. It wasn't his kind of music, but he loved being there for Eddie. When he came out to his uncle as bisexual, he had been the most supportive he had ever been. He had been relieved that nothing changed between them.

"You're still my boy, Eds," Wayne had put it so simply but somehow managed to say everything that needed to be said.

"Don't come back pregnant. . .asshole," Eddie scowled as he climbed into his van. "He knows that if people say shit, I'm going to picture it in my head."

He waved the image of his swollen body cuddled between Nancy and Steve away with a loud huff, erasing it away like it was a chalkboard. He followed the directions that Steve told him to follow. He pulled up to the salon, which was a few doors down away from Melvald's. To his surprise, Steve and Nancy weren't there yet. He was the first to arrive? Or maybe they waited so long that they went ahead and investigated without him. He got out of the van and went to the door and tried peering inside, but the windows were too dirty to see anything. He vaguely heard the sound of a car pulling up, but he ignored it. He leaned back, his hands on his hips, and frowned. HONK! Eddie screamed and jumped. Someone had laid on their horn, someone really close. He turned around to find Steve sitting in his car, laughing his ass off while Nancy hit him as she struggled not to laugh either. Steve got out, still laughing, and Eddie glared at him.

"That wasn't funny, dick," Eddie said.

"I beg to differ," Steve snickered and pulled a carton out of a paper bag from Scoops Ahoy. "Will your favorite ice cream help you ease the pain?"

"Hmm, strawberry with extra sprinkles? Hmm. . . It will suffice. . .for now," Eddie said as he opened it and started digging into it with the plastic spoon. "Hmm, yummy. What was I annoyed about before?"

He was well into eating and licking his ice cream when he realized that he was being watched with interest. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that Steve and Nancy's eyes were following his every little movement with his ice cream. Did they both find him attractive? Eddie couldn't help but blush as his mind went back to that moment in the freezer when Steve kissed him. No, it was a pity kiss, that's all. He was seeing things that he wanted to see.

"Uh, don't you guys have ice creams of your own?" Eddie asked.

"Yes!" Steve and Nancy exclaimed.

Eddie leaned against his van as they enjoyed their ice cream. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him again.

"Those are some nice legs - shorts! Those are some nice shorts!" Steve exclaimed.

"What the fuck are legs shorts?" Eddie asked.

"Nothing!" Steve said quickly.

"Right. . ."

Eddie was hearing things he wanted to hear now, too, because he was pretty sure Steve Harrington just commented on his legs. He watched Nancy lean against Steve and giggle. He had noticed that they seemed a little more carefree than before, a lot less weighed down, but they still held a story behind their eyes. Eddie wasn't too keen on getting in between whatever new was growing between them. He could at least admire their beauty and imagine what could be between the three of them. For now, he was excited for their growing friendship. They finished off their ice cream, and Steve tossed the remains in the nearest trashcan. He fished out his keys and unlocked the door to the salon. They immediately inhaled some dust. It seemed like someone hadn't been here in a few years. Steve propped open the door with a brick to air it out.

"It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be," Eddie admitted as he looked around the place. "If you ever think about reopening, Wayne said he would love to help. Had good things to say about your gramps."

"Yeah, I'm starting to hear about that from other people, too. I mean, I loved my grandpa, but I didn't know that other people loved him too. It's weird because other people really hate my parents, and they've really tarnished the family name," Steve grumbled. "It's all I ever here is how much my father is an asshole."

"I'm not surprised. But I figure that if anyone can untarnish the family name, it'd be you," Eddie said.

"You think so?" He asked.

"Well, if you are able to put up with your unbearable mother, I figured you can do anything, big boy," Eddie said, clapping him on the back.

He watched his cheeks turn pink, and he laughed in amusement. Eddie looked around the room. It was exactly what you would expect a barber shop to look like and then some. With its red checkered floors and comfortable chairs that stood in front of dust covered mirrors. Although it was a lot more home-y than Eddie expected it to be. It felt more like a cross between someone's living room and a barber shop. Rat eaten, moldy couches were tucked up on either side of the room. Magazines with their covers bitten into lay on intricate looking coffee tables. They looked hand-made. What surprised him the most were the wooden varnished animals worked into the walls itself. Tiny wolves, deers, rabbits, and birds were sticking out of carved trees that were also worked into the wall. Plastic leaves had once hung on the trees, but it looked like they had fallen off. It was the coolest thing that Eddie had ever seen.

"Wow," Eddie gazed at in wonder. "This is so fucking metal."

"Yeah, my Grandma, who died before I was born, had a mutal friend with Grandpa, and they both surprised Grandpa Otis with this," Steve said. "My Grandpa didn't talk about him a lot. Whenever I asked about him, he always got really secretive. He talked about him a lot near the end, though. Him and an old war buddy of his, Steven. As well as my Gran, I thought it was sweet whenever he called her his best friend, and he always did even in the end."

"Wait, he had a war buddy named Steven?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, Grandpa named me after him," Steve replied.

"Your grandpa named you? Not your parents?" Nancy asked.

"Well, my grandpa practically raised me the first few years of my life," Steve said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"Uh, where were your parents?" Eddie asked.

"In and out like always. It was a busy time for my father's company," Steve said. "He built it from the ground up, you know. I also think there was a scandal at the time. I don't know what it was. My dad wasn't always loaded. Anyway, my grandpa's things are in the apartment above us."

Steve entered through a torn curtain, flipping on lights. There was a thick wooden staircase that led to a small hallway, and turning left, there was a door. Steve unlocked it and turned on the lights. Inside was a modest two bedroom apartment. Eddie could tell that the second bedroom had been added on. A wall had been put up as a way to devide the once one room apartment. Both bedrooms were filled with boxes, and the furniture was covered with sheets.

"It's nice," Nancy said. "Very home-y."

"Unlike my house, you mean?" Steve snorted. "Anyway, this was my bedroom."

"Your bedroom?" Nancy asked.

"When I lived with my grandpa, the first few years of my life. A couple of years later, he started getting sick, and he had to close the store. Then, we had to move into the house. Honestly, I wasn't even sure they were my parents. My Grandpa mainly told stories about when my dad was a kid and my mom wasn't around a lot for him to get to know," Steve shrugged again.

It was taking everything in Eddie not to burst into tears and not hug the stuffing out of this guy. The way he talked about it so casually. . . Like it was the weather and not the fact that his parents abandoned him, then used his life like a revolving door. Eddie breathed in deep and then exhaled, stuffing his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists. He shared a look with Nancy, and she looked just as shocked as he was.

"How come you never told me about any of this stuff before?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know. You never asked," Steve shrugged, his back to her.

Eddie knew it wasn't supposed to be a slap in the face, but judging by the look on Nancy's face, it had been. She looked so guilty. Maybe if Steve hadn't been so casual about it like he was used to people not actually being interested in the real Steve Harrington. He knew his fucking parents were the cause of that. Eddie nudged Nancy gently, letting her know that she wasn't alone in making assumptions about Steve in the past. There were more layers to this guy than they both ever knew, and they were all about to find out more. He didn't know what went on with them, but he hoped it all worked out.

"Hey! My stuff!" Steve exclaimed as he walked into his bedroom, and he looked at the boxes.

"Your stuff?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, the toys, clothes, and blankets my parents gave away to the church," Steve said.

"Did they at least ask you first?" Eddie asked.

"No!" Steve said as he dug through the box happily. "The teddy bear my Grandma made when she found my mom was pregnant with me. She stitched this together herself. Made it from Dad's old baby clothes. I used to sleep with this thing every night, and then my mom said I was too old to sleep with a stuffed animal. Said I looked stupid. Sir Snuggsalot because he's so snuggly."

Eddie's heart swelled in his chest at the sight of Steve cuddling the bear. It suddenly turned to anger. He pulled Nancy off to the side.

"Okay, we lie in wait for his parents to come home then me and you. . . We kill them," Eddie said. "It needs to look like an accident."

"I have been reading up on poisons," Nancy said.

"Hmm. . .it can't be quick. They don't deserve a quick death," Eddie said.

"Hmm. Agreed. Rusty pair of gardening sheers?" Nancy asked.

"Nobody will believe they garden," he scoffed.

"That's why they're rusty. He does sleep around a lot," Nancy said. "Maybe she finally snapped."

"Yes! Murder suicide. I like the way you think, Wheeler," Eddie said.

"What are you two talking about over there?" Steve asked.

"Nothing!" Eddie and Nancy exclaimed.

"Anyway, there's a note. Pastor Young, who used to babysit me here, recognized these things and dug them out of the donation box. He must have brought them here right before he died," Steve said, shaking his head fondly. "Miss that old man."

"Fuck it," Eddie muttered.

He walked over to Steve and slipped his arms around his waist, pulling into a tight side hug. Eddie squeezed him.

"Uh, what's going on?" Steve asked.

Nancy copied Eddie and joined Steve on his other side, hugging him tightly as well.

"Okay, I don't know what this is, but it's nice," Steve said.

Once they dug through his childhood things, they moved over to his grandfather's boxes. They pulled out photographs and metals as well as several pieces of artwork that Steve did for Otis as a child. There were several photos of him and Steve when Steve was little. Eddie cooed at every single one of them. There were several more photos of Otis when he was younger with Steve’s Grandma, Irene.

"You have his eyes, Steve," Nancy noted as she gazed at a picture of young Otis in his uniform.

"I do?" Steve asked and looked over Nancy's shoulder. "Oh yeah."

Eddie joined Nancy at her other side to look at the photo.

"Yeah, definitely. You have his shoulders too," Eddie said.

"And his hair," Nancy added.

Eddie grinned as he watched Steve preen as he realized he had more in common with his grandfather than he thought he did. Eddie dug through the box and pulled out a picture frame. It was Otis in his uniform with his arm wrapped around a handsome man with rather curly thick hair and dark eyes. His face was littered with freckles. They were gazing at each other, and Eddie didn't think it looked all that platonic.

"Oh, hey, that's Steven," Steve said, looking over at Eddie's shoulder. "According to the date, it was about the time he and Gran got engaged."

"There's something wedged in the back," Eddie said. "I'll fix it."

He opened up the back, and another photo slipped out. Steve caught and read the back.

"Thanks for letting me take this picture. You gentlemen are lovely together. One day, you'll be able to show everyone your love, and they'll accept you as I do. Love always, your best friend, Irene," Steve read off the back and flipped the picture over. "Oh, wow."

Eddie scurried to look over his shoulder, as did Nancy. Otis and Steven's arms were wrapped around each other as they locked lips.

"Okay, there has to be journals around here that have more information," Eddie said with wide eyes. "I need to know more about them. I mean, if you don't mind."

"I think he wouldn't mind at all. He would probably be happy to know that there were more people like him learning about his story and his struggles," Steve said.

"Especially his grandson," Eddie said with a grin as he nudged him.

The three of them started to dig around the room, trying to find anything with journals in it. It was Nancy who found a box under the bed. When she opened it, they discovered tons of journals. They eagerly started to dig through them, each taking turns to read them as they learned more about Otis Harrington. It helped that it was written more like a novel.

Before Otis had gotten drafted, he had worked in his father's barber shop in Hawkins. Irene Callahan was his best friend in the world, and their parents were sure they were going to get married. Of course, they weren't at all aware of Otis's secret: He was gay. Women held no interest for him, not even Irene. Turns out, though, Irene was more than okay with that because there wasn't a single man or woman alive who held any interest for her, and she had doubted that it would ever happen. They eventually agreed that they would get married. . . It was safer that way, and Irene didn't want to get stuck with someone she couldn't stand. And even though it was a marriage without romantic love and sexual attraction, it was a marriage built on love. And they were happy.

"That's cool, though, that they had a marriage like that. Just like a friendship marriage. And that Irene could be like that," Steve said. "My grandparents were awesome."

"That they were. You know, my best friend, Ronnie, is a lot like your grandma. She's at NYU studying to become a lawyer," Eddie said.

"For the longest time, I thought I was like that. I wasn't really interested in anyone or in dating. I mean, besides that tiny crush on Tom Cruise. Until Steve came along, I wasn't sure I could like anyone," Nancy said.

"Hmm, maybe you're pansexual," Eddie said.

"Pansexual?" Nancy asked.

"It's like where it doesn't matter what gender someone is. You're like attracted to what's inside a person," Eddie said.

"Like their fluids and stuff?" Steve asked.

"No!" Eddie snorted with laughter. "You're like attracted to people and not what's on the outside. While bisexuality focuses more on gender and neither sexuality is wrong. Look, I was confused about my own sexuality for years, I'm not sure if I can explain someone else's. It's whatever feels comfortable with you. Hell, you don't even need to have a label if you don't want to. I'll take you guys up to Indie, and I will take you to this place my friend took me. I think exploring your sexuality is something that you need to do for yourself."

"So, you're not going to guide me like a queer Yoda?" Nancy asked, her eyes twinkling with delight.

"A Quoda!" Steve exclaimed, and Nancy giggled.

"I hate you guys," Eddie said, grinning as he swiped the journal from Steve’s hands.

Before Otis and Irene had even gotten engaged, however, a man had moved into town to open up his own diner. He had stumbled upon the town of Hawkins and decided to move to this quaint, quiet town. He had come from the large noisy city of New York, and he was looking for some small town charm.

"Small town charm? What they don't tell you about small towns could fill a book," Eddie said, causing Steve and Nancy to snort while sharing a look. "Or a TV show."

When Steven Jones stepped foot into the barber shop, Otis had been smitten with him almost immediately. They became fast friends, all three of them, and from that moment on, it felt like they had always been friends. They were inseparable. That summer was the best time for all of them. Otis and Steve fell in love while Irene had the pleasure of watching unfold. She even helped keep it a secret. Wartime soon fell upon them like dark clouds on the cusp of a great big storm. And when rumors started popping up, it was Irene's idea to get married, treating it as a celebration of their friendship. While she was married to Otis in the spirit of friendship, she knew the romantic marriage was between Otis and Steven. She had a secret ring made for Steven to wear around his neck. So while Irene and Otis had a huge church wedding with Steven standing beside Otis, they had a secret wedding for Steven and Otis in this very apartment with Irene officiating. Steven had deemed it a coin marriage, both with different sides and both of equal value. One side was romantic, one side platonic.

"A fucking coin marriage," Eddie said. "Your grandparents were brilliant."

It all came crashing down when both Otis and Steven had gotten drafted, leaving Irene to look after the salon with Otis's father. Letters between the three of them were stuck between the pages of the book. They were filled with longing and fear, all three of them separated by war. The last letter spoke of Steven and Otis meeting on the same battlefield, finally together again. Eddie's shakily turned the page.

"Otis had returned home, to the joy of his father and his wife, but Steven. . . Steven would never come home again. And when Otis stood in front of his wife, he placed Steven's necklace in her palm as he drew her into a kiss. To anyone else, he was greeting his wife with a loving kiss, but they knew differently. Salty tears from both sides, it was a kiss filled with sadness. . .two lips clinging to each other in a comforting hug as they mourned for the loss for the man they loved so differently and completely. . . The man who loved with every fiber of his being and who couldn't carry hate in his heart for anyone even when he was fighting on the battlefield. He showed his love through food, and taking care of people was like his special language. Hawkins would be a lot less brighter with one less star, and Otis would always be missing a piece of his heart. . . "

Eddie put the journal down, sniffling as he wiped his eyes. He let out a choked sob, trying to ignore Steve and Nancy's own sniffles. They took a moment to collect themselves, and Nancy took the journal from him. The journal had skipped ahead several months later, with Otis addressing it to his beloved. . .to Steven. Otis and Irene were discussing ways they could possibly have a child. There was really only one way they could. . . With a turkey baster. They had talked about it in depth, trying to figure out if they were trying to fill the hole in their lives. After a lot of talking, they figured out that it was something that they really wanted. Several months later, they welcomed a baby boy and named him Jonathan after Irene's father, who had passed during the beginning stages of her pregnancy. As he grew, John was a happy boy who loved both of his parents. He was witty and sharp, but as the years went by, he started befriending the more popular kids who were very arrogant. They didn't believe in people who strayed far from the path, who stood out. John had firmly believed that his parents' marriage were like everyone else's, a little silly perhaps but did not stray too far from the path. Otis had decided that John had been old enough to learn the truth, and he had trusted him to be able to handle it. That had been a mistake.

" . . . Watching the love fade from my son's eyes had been hard to watch, and seeing it be replaced with disgust had been even harder. I'm looking at him now, even though he's right next to me, and I miss him. I wish I never told him at all. . . "

Nancy paused, her bottom lip trembling as she gazed at Steve.

"Fuck," Eddie and Steve cursed.

"Continue," Steve said, swallowing thickly.

" . . . It would be my fault for whatever comes next with him. I've always ignored it when other people spewed hateful things, and I never felt ashamed for being who I am until the hate started coming from my own son. My father had died and left the salon to me, but he died knowing who I was. He accepted and loved me all the same even if he didn't understand it himself. The worst part was when we would go out in public, and John wanted to keep the image up of us being a happy family. I always tried to make sure that he knew he came from love, created with love even though it wasn't the conventional way. All he felt was betrayal, and I couldn't help but feel like it was all my fault. . . "

"That's bullshit! It's not his fault. He was just being honest about who he is and my father . . . Well, if he hasn't learned by now that he's the asshole in this situation, then he's probably never going to," Steve scowled.

"Steve. . . ," Nancy said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe after. Let's just finish," Steve said and took the journal from her.

As the years went by, John argued with his parents about getting help. . .about needing to be fixed. It always ended the same way, with John being kicked out, leaving his parents to cry over their son and wishing Steven was still with them. He still tried to keep up with visiting his parents, and eventually, he dropped the subject, but he always looked at them funny. Instead, he talked about the insurance company he was building with his friends and bragged about how well it was going, making jabs about how Otis was still a barber. When he turned his insults to Irene, it had been the last straw and kicked John out. He had been planning on giving the house to John, but after disowning him for a time, he sold it to someone else. Irene and Otis moved into the apartment above the salon. The next time that they had talked to their son, he announced he was married to a wonderful woman. They could tell that he didn't even love her, not even platonically. She was desperate for his love, though, and was willing to give him anything even children to keep up the image of the importance of family. She hated kids, though. Steve paused and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You okay?" Eddie asked softly.

"I just - I always suspected that this is why my mother had me, but I had hoped that there was some part of her. . . Some part of her that loved me," Steve said as he struggled not to cry.

"Steve. . .," Nancy said and reached out to touch his knee.

"Let's just . . . Get on with this," Steve said.

When Margaret had announced her pregnancy, Otis and Irene tried to focus on the fact that there would be a grand baby on the way. They didn't want to think about how Margaret looked sour during the announcement and that John had looked happy about it for all the wrong reasons. It was just a means to end for him, another piece to maintain the image that he was on the right path. Irene spent all of her time working on making a teddy bear for the baby, making it out of John's clothes and putting all of her love into it. Just after finishing it, Irene's heart gave out. There was too much damage, and he sat with her on her deathbed with John nowhere to be found. He had been too busy at work, too busy to say goodbye to his own mother, and Otis knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.

"I'll give Steven my love. I'll leave some for you and John to give to the baby," she had smiled weakly. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if they named the baby Steven? It's such a lovely name."

They had been her last words, and Otis had been distraught as she slipped away even more so after she was gone. He had never felt more alone in his life. John and Margaret had stood at the back of the funeral. When John did approach him later, he didn't say anything, but he did look regretful. For the first time in a while, Otis was looking through the eyes of his son. He should have known that it was too good to last. They hadn't called him when Margaret had gone into labor. John had shown up with the baby in his arms and gave the bundle to him. He declared that he didn't have time to take care of him, and Margaret didn't want anything to do with the baby. Though Otis had felt sad for the baby in his arms, he also felt love and joy. He had come up with the perfect name. Steven Ira Harrington.

"Your middle name is Ira?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Problem?"

"No, Ira-really like it," Eddie said with a cheesy grin.

"That was so stupid," Nancy giggled, and Steve laughed in agreement.

The next few years of his life had been busy. The divider had been built by James Hopper Sr and his son, Jimmy. It was a name only Otis was allowed to call him. Occasionally, Jimmy would come into help with the wall but would also help look after baby Steve. Tucked in between the pages was a picture of young Hopper bouncing baby Steve in his lap while Steve laughed and reached for his face. It wasn't long after that Jimmy had gotten married and left for New York. Raising Steve had kept Otis busy for the next few years, and when he got sick, he started to write less. When he lost the use of his hands, he stopped writing all together. He did manage to write one more thing.

"Steve, if you find these journals, please don't think less of me. . . And Steven. . .oh, Steven. . . He may not be yours by blood, but somehow, he managed to inherit your heart. . . . "

"If anything, I think more of you," Steve whispered and then paused. "He never talked about that friend of his who did that piece of artwork downstairs."

"Well, I think there might be a couple of journals missing, judging by the dates," Nancy said.

"Pastor Young probably took them when he dropped off my things," Steve said.

"Or maybe Pastor Young did the artwork," Eddie said, and then he gasped. "Maybe Pastor Young was Otis's lover."

"Maybe that's why he took the notebooks. He didn't want anyone to know," Nancy said.

"That would explain why he was so involved in my life," Steve said. "And why he had a key. Now that I think about it, he did sleep over a lot, and he never slept on the couch. Jesus, it was right there in front of me. I mean, he was there even until the end. Although, after Grandpa died, he didn't come around a lot, and then he died. My father probably told him to stay away if he figured out what he was to my grandfather. My fucking parents. . . "

Eddie watched his face flash through several mixed emotions. His own father was an asshole who breezed in and out of his life. He was finally out of it for good.

"I know what it's like," Eddie blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked.

"To have a parent come in and out of your life, not caring about you. I spent so many years trying to catch my father's attention only to realize he wasn't going to care about me. I did have someone who always did, who I took for granted. My uncle was always the dad that I needed in my life. He was the one who taught me how to care. You had not one, not two but three grandparents. Even though two of them never got to meet you, it seems they left their love behind in Otis which he passed onto you," Eddie said.

"And you've passed it onto me and to the kids. They communicate it through their actions, especially Dustin, who takes care of you as much as you do him," Nancy said. "And you taught Max that she could stand up for herself. You gave them an example of what a good older brother should be, just like your grandfather showed you what a good parent is supposed to be. You showed them that love can look differently to many people, and it doesn't have to be romantic. And even if they don't say, they show it. . .they love you, and I think they do that by making sure that you never feel alone ever again. They do that even by filling up your house with noise and dirt. They chose to be a part of your life. And I know you love them that just as much as they love you."

Steve burst into tears, his body shaking with sobs. Eddie immediately wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He turned to Nancy and pulled her into the middle of them. Eddie and Nancy hugged him tightly, unknowingly solidifying their bond even further into a deeper and more permanent one.

Chapter Eight

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