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harmonicakai · 6 months ago

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Be Around Me

Part 1 of the "Love is Embarrassing" series

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader, Ricky x Reader (one-sided), Haobin crumbs, Jiwoong x Reader teeny tiny crumbs

Summary: Gyuvin is the type of guy to get flustered over everything, but little does he know that you secretly think it makes him even cuter.

Tropes: basketball star!gyuvin, journalist!reader, college AU, basketball!zb1, frat!zb1, secret admirer, fluff, slow burn, crack, unrequited love, mutual pining, gyuvin is a LOSER

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Ricky is annoying lol, mentions of masturbation and sex (mdni!!!)

A/N: y’all will have pry zb1 college basketball au from my cold dead hands!!!!!!!! also for once in my life, y/n is not super insecure we cheered!!

FIC INSPIRED SPOTIFY PLAYLIST <3

“It's obvious she's so out of reach And I'm finding it hard 'cause She makes me feel, makes me feel Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard” —Try Hard, 5 Seconds of Summer

On the court, Kim Gyuvin is the star player of the Wakefield Roses. With his long limbs, he handles the ball with ease, capturing the hearts of everybody in the crowd every time he grins after scoring a basket.

Off the court, he’s an awkward mess. Combine that with the fact that you, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, are usually the one covering games for the school news, and he’s a goner.

As if it isn’t hard enough for him to make eye contact with the camera, he also has to make sure he doesn’t stare too hard at your shiny hair or glossy lips. His teammates would never let him live it down if he was caught being an absolute creep on video.

What started out as a little crush has grown into a deep admiration. He reads every article that you put out into the school newspaper, sometimes even cutting out the ones you’ve written about him and his team. Everybody makes fun of him for being too scared to just ask you out.

He’s never been one to flirt with girls, but the way you make conversations so easy during interviews, even when he’s stumbling over his words, makes him feel at ease around you. Still, he wonders how much of it is just your journalist persona versus you actually liking him.

Sharing a double with Ricky means he gets exiled a lot in the name of his roommate getting laid. Sometimes, you come back from getting your morning coffee and catch him sleeping on one of the lounge’s couches.

One morning, when your arms are full of pastries that you intend to hoard in your dorm for the upcoming week, you spot him curled up yet again on your way back to your room.

Without much thought, you stop to leave a muffin and a little note next to it on the table in front of him, conveniently forgetting to sign your name.

It began with cutesy but vague things, like “breakfast for a champion,” but quickly escalated as soon as Gyuvin started leaving notes back for you.

After a couple exchanges, he even wrote that you didn’t need to be leaving him food at all and that he just wanted to know who you were. Truthfully, you had a really big crush on Gyuvin, but didn’t everybody?

Despite being a bit camera shy, he was always so sweet before and after your interviews, doing his best to make small talk and smiling his smile that could make anybody swoon.

Plus, you’ve seen how much more comfortable he is with other people, even the cheerleaders, who are all super pretty. He must just be really nice.

So, you continue to leave the notes unsigned, despite each one growing in flirtation. You like the thrill of being mysterious, but you’re mostly just scared of getting rejected since he’s never given you a reason to think he likes you back.

It isn’t until Ricky catches you one morning, a sly grin on his face when he sees you leaving a whole stack of notes on the table.

When you lock eyes with Gyuvin’s roommate, you know the jig is up. Surely, he’ll tell him it’s been you all along.

“Y/N,” Ricky nods when you approach him, his arms crossed. “I have to say, I had my suspicions.”

“Listen, Ricky, I would prefer if we could keep this between us.”

“Gyuvin’s been going on and on about some secret admirer for weeks now. It’s cruel that you won’t tell him who you are.”

“He’s welcome to stop writing back if he doesn’t want to,” you shrug, although it would probably devastate you if that actually happened.

“Oh, trust me, he wants to. Especially if he found out it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that every time he finishes an interview with you, he might always run home and lock himself in our bathroom because you get him so riled up. If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes go wide at the revelation. Ricky is surely just messing with you. “That’s—that’s not funny, Ricky. You shouldn’t joke about those kinds of things.”

“I’m not joking,” he chuckles. “Listen, Zeta Beta Omega is throwing a party tonight and the whole team will be there. You should come.”

“I don’t do parties,” you scoff. “Why would you even want me there?”

“Because maybe after a few drinks, you and Gyuvin won’t be so scared to tell each other how you feel. Then you guys can knock off this silly game and he can stop whining about not knowing who his mystery girl is.”

“And go back to whining about how all his roommate does is kick him out every night so he can fuck whoever he lays his eyes on?”

“Exactly. See, Y/N, you get me,” he practically purrs. “So, you show up looking all pretty and talk to my poor, lovesick roomie, and I won’t spill your little secret. Deal?”

“Ugh, fine, I guess. I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me. Deal.”

“Trust me, it’s for your own good, sweetheart.”

You cringe at the pet name. “Is this how you talk to everybody?”

“Yes. Why? Is it working? Are you going to start leaving me notes too?”

“Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ricky. I’ll see you later,” you say, walking past him. Even if he’s annoying, it’s genuinely impressive how he managed to brush off every insult you threw his way.

“See you, Y/N.” You don’t even have to look back at him to know that he winked as he said that.

—————-

Gyuvin knows that staying up all night waiting around for his mystery girl would be an invasion of privacy. At least he thinks the person who keeps leaving him baked goods and notes is a girl. Or maybe he’s just being hopeful that it’s you.

He’s never seen your handwriting before, but he’s been close enough to smell your perfume and he swears he can catch hints of it wafting off the sticky notes.

In fact, he’s started looking forward to Ricky kicking him out of their shared bedroom just because he knows he’ll be waking up to the sweetest surprise when he sleeps in the lounge.

Tonight’s party should be a good distraction from all of the wondering. Maybe, if he’s drunk enough, Ricky will be more embarrassing than alluring and Gyuvin will get to sleep in his own bed. Still, he can’t get this morning’s notes off his mind.

You’ve left him clues, little doodles of your favorite things. Your coffee order, favorite color, favorite animal, and so on. He’s hoping you’ll be at tonight’s party so he can see if you mention any of the stuff drawn out, but you never show up to these kinds of things.

That was before Ricky got involved. You stood outside the ZBO frat house wearing your worst sneakers and a baby pink minidress, as suggested by one of your suitemates.

If only you didn’t show up by yourself. There were a few familiar faces from class, and of course, the entire basketball team, but nobody you were really friends with. All you could focus on was how sticky the floor was and how much you needed a drink.

“Hi,” you say, finally making your way over to the bartender. It’s the team’s captain, Hanbin. “Just give me whatever tastes the best.”

“One rum punch it is,” he smiles, his whisker dimples making your heart flutter. Why was everybody on the team good looking? “Y/N, right?”

“Yep,” you say, taking the plastic cup from him. “You’re Hanbin. You know, I’ve been meaning to interview you, but you always seem so busy with other things at games.”

“Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be nearly as cute as when you interview Gyuvin,” he laughs, eyeing the line of guests waiting for their drinks. “I’ve got a job to do, but I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks for the drink,” you say, holding it up in a sort of cheer before walking away. You take a sip and savor its sweetness, the liquor’s flavor blending in perfectly to the juice. Hanbin’s words stick with you. Were you and Gyuvin cute together?

Sure, he’s so tall that he practically towers over you, but he refuses to ever make eye contact and always keeps his replies so short and polite. Then again, he sure seems to write a lot in the notes that he doesn’t know are going to you.

For a second, you start to consider that you might actually have a chance with him, until you spot him with a beautiful girl touching his arm and whispering something in his ear. Before you can mope for too long, someone is tapping you on the shoulder.

“There you are,” a familiar voice calls over the music. You turn to see Ricky grinning at you, his hair looking almost white under the lights. “You look good.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest to prevent him from checking you out any further. He glances past you at his roommate.

“Don’t worry about her,” he assures you. You don’t know whether or not to believe him. “Gyuvin has never taken a girl home from these parties, let alone kissed one.”

That’s a relief. “Don’t you have a hook-up to hunt down?” you ask Ricky. He cocks an eyebrow at you, sipping his drink.

“Oh, Y/N. I keep my girls on speed dial,” he chuckles. You cringe at his playboy persona and for once in his life, Ricky is embarrassed. He shuts his mouth, hoping you can’t see him blush.

“Wow,” you say, tilting your head at him. “Don’t tell me young and rich, tall and handsome Shen Ricky can actually feel shame. I really wish I had a cameraman with me right now.”

“Like I said, it works on most people,” he attempts to reason. “You’re just immune to my charms, I guess.”

“Guess so,” you smirk, downing the rest of your drink. You glance behind your shoulder to see Gyuvin still talking to that girl, then back at Ricky, who’s deep in thought.

“Do you want to meet the rest of the team?” he asks, surprising you. You give a slight nod, and that’s all he needs to see before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd.

At first, Ricky lingers as you make small talk with Matthew, Taerae, and Gunwook, and explains to you that Yujin is actually at home because he’s still in high school. You feel like a horrible journalist—have you been so preoccupied with Gyuvin that you didn’t notice there was a literal child on the team?

By now, Ricky’s abandoned you to go find something, or someone, more entertaining. He’s dropped you off with Jiwoong, the oldest player, who is as aloof as he is annoyingly handsome. The way he eyes you makes your stomach do cartwheels, and you’ve had enough to drink that you can’t see the harm in flirting with a cute boy.

He’s spewing some bullshit about meditating when you cut him off. “I like your hair,” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He turns and smiles at you for the first time since you started talking.

“You do?” he asks, running a hand through it. “I think it’s a little long. I might get a haircut soon.”

“Keep it like that,” you say, not taking your eyes off of him. “It looks good.”

Jiwoong is grinning now, but he remembers that you’re Gyuvin’s crush, and it would be totally wrong to kiss you no matter how badly he wants to. He eyes the crowd, searching for someone to save him from the tension.

“Hao!” he says, grabbing a boy passing by and pulling him into the conversation. He looks familiar, but he’s certainly no basketball player. “Y/N, this is Zhang Hao. He’s our equipment manager. I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Hao says, clearly caught off guard. “You’re the one who does the interviews, right?”

“That’s me,” you confirm. Jiwoong’s departure right when you thought he was going to kiss you was beyond bizarre. “I didn’t realize how many people knew me.”

“You’re basically a celebrity to the team,” Hao laughs. “They all think you’re pretty.”

“Makes sense,” you smile, sipping on your third drink of the night. “I am, in fact, very pretty.”

“Agreed. So, which one do you have your eye on?” he asks, leaning in to hear you better. “Or should I guess?”

“Go ahead and guess,” you say, eager to know what he thinks.

Hao takes a second to gather his thoughts. “Well, it’s clear that you’re into Gyuvin based on the way you giggle at his seriously unfunny jokes, but you were also just eye fucking Jiwoong. Then again, wasn’t Ricky dragging you around earlier by the hand?”

“By the wrist,” you correct him. “And yes, I do like Gyuvin. But he’s been talking to some other girl the whole night.”

“He only has eyes for you,” Hao says immediately. This is the second time you’ve heard this tonight, but the first where it’s coming from a trustworthy source.

“And you?” you ask in return, shifting the conversation onto him. “Which one do you have a crush on?”

Hao’s eyes widen. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not—I don’t—”

“Hao,” you cut him off. “You’ve glanced at Hanbin at least six times since this conversation started.”

He swallows, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“We talk all the time,” Hao mutters, looking down at his shoes. “I’m basically his personal assistant.”

“Do you talk about anything other than basketball?”

“No.”

“Do you even like basketball?”

“...No.”

“Hao,” you say, gripping him by the shoulders and turning him towards the drink station. “Go over there and get your man.”

—————-

As if it weren’t enough of a shock to Gyuvin that you actually showed up to a ZBO party, he’s had to spend all night watching you chat up the entire team except for him.

They’ve no doubt let it slip to you that he has the biggest crush on you on campus, maybe even the entire world. But he’s way too nice to tell one of his classmates, who attends every game just to hold up a sign with his name on it, that he isn’t interested.

That’s how he ended up nursing his drink with a tight lipped smile, listening to what’s-her-name ramble on about things that would be more interesting to probably anybody else, all while keeping an eye on you as you bounce around the party.

Your interaction with Jiwoong made him jealous beyond belief, and he makes a mental note that while he’s made his crush on you very clear to his teammates, you’re technically not his and free to flirt with whoever you want.

He watches as you grasp Hao and shake him, muttering some words of encouragement before sending him over to the bar. Finally, you’re alone again. It’s now or never.

“I have to go walk my dog,” Gyuvin lies, not even bothering to let the poor girl react before making his way over to you. You’re wearing pink, his secret admirer’s favorite color. Surely, it’s not just a coincidence.

“Y/N,” he says a little too loud, startling you. You jump, accidentally knocking yourself into him. Both of your drinks go flying and suddenly, you’re covered in sticky red liquid.

At this point, Gyuvin might as well just die alone. How did he manage to only spill his drink on you and not himself? He peers down at you, guilt written all over his face, as you take in what’s just happened.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his hoodie’s pocket and pulling out wadded tissues. “They’re clean, I promise. I have, uh, I’ve got allergies, so I carry around a ton.”

He unfolds one and gently pats the liquid off of you without so much of a second thought. Your silence makes him panic even more, and he’s so focused on drying you off that he doesn’t even notice he’s basically rubbing the tissue on your cleavage.

Gyuvin freezes once he finally notices where his hand is, immediately pulling away and putting a good distance between the two of you. “I am so sorry. Holy shit, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a pervert! Please don’t think I’m a pervert.”

“Gyuvin,” you finally say, your voice just as sweet as always. He’s pacing as much as he can with everybody packed in so tightly, his long legs taking tiny steps. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re a pervert.”

He stops and looks down at you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” you reassure him. “Although I might think you’re a klutz. Who knew Wakefield’s star basketball player was so clumsy off the court?”

“Technically, you bumped into me,” he asserts, his smile returning. “But you’re also the one who got soaked, so let’s just call things even.”

“Deal,” you agree. Sure, it’s fun when boys are obviously flirting with you, but the way Gyuvin has no clue what he’s doing is just so charming. It feels natural when you’re with him, a nice departure from the overused pickup lines and generic compliments that are usually thrown your way.

Gyuvin takes in your stained dress, the red punch seeping into the pink fabric like blood. You look straight out of a horror movie.

“Here,” he says, shrugging off his varsity jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before taking in the sight of you. “Wow. You look so…”

“Silly?” you answer, the expanse of material wrapped around you like a tent.

“Cute. You look so cute.” Gyuvin meets your eyes for a split second before looking away again, his ears now feeling even hotter than when he saw you with Jiwoong. “I can get you a new shirt, if you want. My room isn’t far from here.”

“You want me to go with you to your room?” you giggle, enjoying how flustered you make him. Hearing his teammates talk about how much he likes you has taken a weight off your shoulders, and you don’t know how you ever thought he wasn’t into you before.

“No! Well, yes, but only if you want to. And I’m not using this as an excuse to bring you back to my room. I just know you like pink and I have this one pink shirt that shrunk in the wash and I think you’d look really good in it. Plus, I can start a load of laundry and get your dress all clean.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard him talk, his voice a few pitches higher than usual when he’s rambling. Plus, if he knows how much you like pink, he must be following your clues. “Let’s go to your room, then.”

—————-

While Gyuvin’s side of the room is much neater than you expected, Ricky’s side looks weirdly perfect. Not a single thing is out of place, with every item labeled or color coordinated. You’re shocked that two basketball players can manage to keep such a small room so tidy.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Gyuvin apologizes, moving to make his bed. “You can sit here.”

“If this is what you think is messy, you don’t want to see my room,” you say, taking in all of the decorations. Usually, when you’re in a guy’s room, it’s all navy blue and manly movie posters, but Gyuvin’s walls are so colorful and covered in photos of his family and friends.

One piece of paper catches your eye—the very first article you wrote about the basketball team. You scan his wall, catching more and more newspaper clippings, all penned by you. Gyuvin’s too busy putting things away and rustling through his drawers to notice you staring at them in awe.

“Here we go,” he calls out, turning and holding up a shrunken pink t-shirt and a pair of sweats. His grin fades as soon as he catches you reading one of your own articles, which have been on his wall for so long that he’s forgotten they’re even there. “Oh. Uh, please don’t think I’m a creep.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s sweet. They’re all about you, anyway,” you say, turning to take the shirt from him. It has a picture of a silly looking greyhound on the front of it.

“Right,” Gyuvin says, shrugging off the interaction. He pulls himself onto the bed next to you, sitting cross legged and making sure to leave a gap between you and him. “That’s my dog, Eumppappa.”

“Eumppappa is an amazing name,” you muse, turning to smile at him. Your faces end up being so close that Gyuvin thinks his heart has stopped beating. In his attempt to scoot back, he ends up tumbling off of his bed.

“Fuck,” he says as he lands on the ground. You peer down from the lofted bed at his long limbs sprawled across the rug. If you didn’t think he was a complete loser before, you probably do now.

“Are you okay?” you call out, watching as he sits up and rubs his head.

“I’m good,” Gyuvin assures you, taking a breather before getting to his feet and heading towards the door. “I’m going to step out and let you change. Let me know when you’re decent.”

“Will do,” you smile, giving him a thumbs up. You strip your clothes off, throwing on the t-shirt and sweats and pulling the drawstring until you know they won’t fall off of you. “You can come back in, Gyuvin!”

He stumbles in, practically waiting with his body pressed against the door for the moment he could see you again. God, could you really not tell how much he liked you before tonight?

Gyuvin eyes you drowning in his clothes and he knows that he’d move earth and heaven if it meant that you’re who he got to wake up to for the rest of his life.

“I’ll go throw this in the washer and then we can head back to the party,” he stammers, snapping out of his daydream and grabbing your dress. Your smile is so pretty right now, even after all of his awkwardness, that it takes everything in him not to get hard just looking at you.

By the time he gets back from the laundry room, you’ve decided you don’t want to go back to the party, especially not dressed like this.

“Oh,” Gyuvin says, disappointed that his time with you has been cut short by his clumsiness. “Do you want me to walk you back to your place?”

“I live down the hall,” you remind him. You hope he doesn’t realize you could’ve just as easily grabbed your own change of clothes.

“Right,” he grimaces. He knows that. He’s always trying to time leaving his room perfectly so that he runs into you on the way to class.

Just like whenever you interview Gyuvin, there’s an awkward silence, except this time it can’t be edited out. He’s back to looking everywhere in the room except at you.

“It’s not even midnight,” you say, glancing at your phone’s lockscreen. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Like, together?” Gyuvin asks in disbelief. You nod, an amused smirk on your face. “Duh, of course you meant together. Yeah, sure, let’s watch a movie.”

Moments later, you’re sitting in the dark with Gyuvin, your legs pulled close to your chest as you watch Amélie projected onto the wall above Ricky’s bed.

Every once in a while, Gyuvin lets himself relax, his arm or his leg brushing against you by accident. After spending half of the film pulling away out of fear that he’s bothering you, he finally settles for having his fingers barely touching yours.

“You know,” he starts, his eyes still locked on the movie. “I kind of have my own mystery going on right now.”

“Really?” you say, feigning shock. “About what?”

“Someone keeps leaving me notes when I sleep in the lounge. Sometimes treats, but mostly notes. They don’t sign their name, but today they left me some little doodles as clues and I’ve been trying to figure them out.”

The way you’re reacting makes his stomach turn. How could it be you when you have a look on your face that says you have no clue what he’s talking about?

“Well, I’ve been meaning to work on my investigative journalism. What if I helped you track your secret admirer down?”

If you aren’t going to fall for him, he’ll at least settle for being friends. “That’d be awesome, Y/N.”

Suddenly, Ricky comes crashing into the dorm room, his lips attached to some girl’s face. He pulls away from her for a second, barely registering that you’re even there, before pulling out his wallet and throwing a couple hundred dollar bills at Gyuvin. “Get out. Now.”

Before you can protest, Ricky’s already unbuttoning his shirt, and you’ll gladly evacuate if it means you don’t have to watch whatever freaky shit is about to go down.

“I didn’t know he pays you to sleep in the lounge,” you laugh, your arms full of Gyuvin’s comforter as you walk down the hall. “With that kind of money, he could just buy an apartment.”

“He could,” Gyuvin starts, holding his pillow in one hand and the stack of notes—your notes—in the other. “But then he wouldn’t get the true college experience. Plus, he only throws money at me when it’s a last minute thing.”

“How much was that, anyway? Like $300?” you ask. He stops and takes out his wallet.

“$400. Pretty standard,” he shrugs, counting the bills. Your eyes widen at the total.

“Are you going to share?” you pout. “I got kicked out too.”

“You can have it,” he says, handing you the money, his brain short circuiting at the way you bat your eyelashes at him. You marvel at the crisp bills. “This is just another Friday night for me.”

“Okay, young and rich, tall and handsome Kim Gyuvin. Thanks for buying my dinner for the rest of the semester!” You don’t know this, but if you asked him to, Gyuvin would buy you whatever you wanted.

Before you can get down to helping him figure out the doodles, or throwing him off your trail, the two of you are fast asleep. Instead of the lounge’s couch, Gyuvin curls up on the oversized bean bag on your bedroom floor. It’s much too small for his frame to actually be comfortable, but he somehow feels more content just being around you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @theresawtf @nerezza123 @gyvnexe @xiurmy-everything @wollycobbl3-blr @cloudgyubi @yunnie-11 @wheatrice

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andkisses · 1 year ago

Text

♡ just a friend | hyuka ♡

first kisses are scary. that’s why you’ve decided your first kiss should be with your best friend.

♡ kai x gn!reader | wc. 842 ♡ genres/tropes: fluff, y’all are both oblivious to being in love lol ♡ mentions of/warnings: none ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote but can’t remember if i ever posted on my old blog, so here it is !

The idea is simple, elegant in design and concept. It strikes both of you at the same time, as if you’re both hit on the head by a bored cupid. You sit beside, shoulders touching, watching yet another cheesy romcom. The two leads on screen fumble their way into a kiss, too nervous and naive to actually enjoy it. The slow turn towards each other, a single eyebrow raised in question, tells you he’s on board already.

Let’s be each other’s first kiss.

Kai cocked his head, tilting it towards you. “What's the worst that could happen?” he asks. Even with this idea brewing, the space between you doesn’t feel awkward. Watching movies on the shag rug after you’d pushed away the coffee table for more room still felt like the most amazingly mundane Saturday night task. Kai winked languidly, making sure to seem as fake as possible. “We fall in love?”

You scoffed, faking a gag and rolling your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

You take a moment to ensure all your hair is out of your face, brushing fingertips against your skin and behind your ears. The whole point of this was to make it the least awkward as possible. After all، it wasn't like you got your very first kiss every day.

The summer between sophomore and junior year feels like it’s stretching on into infinity, and yet you'd never been kissed. Never gone on a date, even. You assumed it was because everyone thought you were dating Kai--which was plain weird because you and him were just friends. The best of friends. You'd been together (but not together-together) for what already felt like an eternity.

You never thought of what it would be like to hold his hand in public, running your thumb across the back of his knuckles. What it would be like to confirm people’s suspicions and have them gush over how cute and compatible you are together. What it would be like to call Kai yours, to never have to worry about him being with anyone else, who obviously wouldn’t have his best interest at heart.

You never let yourself think of any of it, keeping it locked behind a door in your brain that you tried day in and day out to forget even existed.

It–this–is enough. Any more would just feel too odd.

Which, you decide, is why this plan is so genius. No feelings, just pure discovery. You watch Kai take a quick sip of his eyes water while you wet your lips. Why suffer through a first kiss with someone who will eventually break your heart when you can do it with someone you trust?

No words were exchanged, you'd watched enough movies to know what’s supposed to happen. The two potential lovers–which, ew, you totally aren’t, but you let mind enter the role, just for right now–lean in close, catching their breaths, then lightly press their lips against each other. Sparks fly. Fireworks go off. You expected neither of these things, because duh, he’s your best friend.

You also didn’t expect his lips to taste like green tea, and yet here you were. They’re soft, and enticing, and so very Kai you don’t quite know what to do. One hand went to the couch so you wouldn't topple over on to him—this was to avoid awkwardness after all. You can't recall where the other landed, perhaps they dug into the shag carpet.

The kiss is over too fast, at least you felt like. Suddenly, all the movies made another layer of sense. There weren't any fireworks booming inside your head, jumbling around your thoughts. No incessant urge to pop one leg up like a cliche princess movie. But, an incessant urge for more.

Which is weird, because you kissed Kai out of science, a theory. A way to learn about kissing so when you actually had to do it on someone for real, you didn’t have to think.

Maybe, that’s what it is.

And there is a sparkler of sorts going off inside you, golden light everywhere. Your head buzzes with the excitement of newness. Your fingertips tingle with a want of something more, craving a sensation you can’t quite explain. You couldn’t wait to find someone to kiss like this all the time. You couldn't wait for Kai to find someone to kiss like this all the time.

You finally lean apart, back to your original spots on the rug. Kai opens his mouth to say something, focus drawing a triangle between your eyes and lips, when his attention dashes from you to the TV. Credits scrolled up the screen at an abysmal pace. “We forgot to pause the movie!”

You lunge for the remote, ready to skip it back to the scene you were at pre-kiss. There’s a rush, a tingle up your arm when your hand brushes his. You decide it’s best not to look at him right now, as your heart races and your lips long for more. Kai is, after all, just a friend.

Your best friend.

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #huening kai fluff #txt fluff #huening kai #kai #hyuka fluff #txt #all #drabbles

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topperscumslut · 1 year ago

Note

are u ever gonna post the impractical jokers 90s au

ok ok so i was kinda hesitant to post it just bcuz it’s very… not well written lol. and i wasn’t really sure if anyone would actually want to read it but it seems like there actually is a demand for it so here y’all go ig 🤷🏻‍♀️

so i wrote this when i was 14 when one of my irl best friends introduced me to her online best friend who was also obsessed with impractical jokers and we decided to start a fan account on instagram and write a self insert fic together ab us going to HS in the 90s and meeting the jokers (even tho i ended up doing all of the writing which i was actually kinda happy about lmao). so you can very much tell that a 14 yr old wrote it and a lot of the plot doesn’t make sense lmaooo but im just gonna post it as it is and not try to edit it to make it sound better or anything. for now im just gonna post it chapter by chapter which is something i haven’t done before cuz i usually only write one shots nowadays so yea just lmk if y’all wanna be added to a taglist!!! but yea anyway here y’all go.

masterlist for this fic

chapter 1 word count: 475

Intro

The year is 1994. Two best friends are going back to high school after winter break, one of which newly single and sure no one could replace her so-called “Mr. Right” - until the pair meets four boys from Staten Island who just might change their worlds forever. Prepare for something amazing.

Chapter 1 - Stupid Boy

Sarah and Kendall hadn’t seen each other for weeks due to a fun, yet long, Christmas break. Both had been super busy and weren’t able to see each other or any of their other friends since school got out. The two girls hugged and greeted each other at their lockers, before greeting their friend Jasmyn the exact same way.

The three friends stood at Kendall’s locker as she put away her coat and her water bottle, the group of them talking and laughing about everything that they’d done over break.

“Guess what guys?” Jasmyn said, “I have a new crush!”

“That’s great,” Kendall sighed, forcing a smile.

“Oh no, Jasmyn, really?” Sarah said, “K, are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so. I mean Andy’s a great guy. He never meant to hurt me, so I shouldn’t let it get to me anyway. I mean, isn’t that what we both want?”

“Yeah, true. But we’re here for you.”

Kendall smiled and opened her mouth to thank the girls before hearing an eerily familiar laugh behind her. It was Andy, her ex.

The ex-lovers made eye contact for not even half a second before Kendall looked away, tears in her eyes.

“I, um,” she sniffled, “oh, I really have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” She ran off to the girl’s bathroom at the end of the hall, and didn’t even have time to lock herself in a stall before bursting out into tears like Niagara Falls. How did Andy have this effect on her?

She wiped up her tears with a scratchy paper towel, wishing she had tissues in her backpack. And wishing she had never met that stupid boy that broke up with her over the phone.

“Thank God for waterproof mascara, am I right?’

“Hey, hey, guys, did you hear that?”

Shit! She thought, Someone heard me.

She peeked outside to see a group of four boys, the voice had belonged to the ferret-like one, sandwiched between one with long, dark hair and thick eyebrows - Sarah’s type - and a handsome one with striking green eyes that she could both see and feel the empathy in.

Oh no no no, please don’t see me! Calm down, Kendall. It’s not like they could come in anyways.

“I think it was just your imagination, Murray,” the final boy said.

Thank God, Kendall thought as Sarah burst through the bathroom door, wrapping an arm around her, the four boys now lost from her mind - for the time being.

#impractical jokers #90s #impractical jokers fanfiction #impractical jokers 90s au #impractical jokers au #unedited writing #90s au #1994 #sal vulcano #brian quinn #joe gatto #james murray #au #fanfic #fanfiction #self insert #self insert fanfiction #impractical jokers self insert fanfic #i wrote this in 2018 plz don’t judge me

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shreddedparchment · 3 years ago

Text

Perennial Pt.08

03/16/2022

Heat of the Moment

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2,614

Warnings: sexual harassment trauma, angst, pining, fluff

Featured Flower: Cornflower

A/N: This chapter was actually never supposed to exist. While Bucky was always meant to sleep over, I hadn’t planned to write out what happened between them this night, HOWEVER...because so many of you wrote me such sweet comments expressing your excitement for their little sleepover, I was moved to write it out for y’all. So legit, as amazing as I find this chapter now, those of you who sent me little exclamations of excitement for Bucky coming to sleep over are the true heroes. lol I hope you enjoy! xoxo

Don’t steal, rewrite, translate, or repost my fics on any other platforms.

Don’t be an asshole.

The knock on your door makes you jump.

Slightly panicked, you scurry over to it and look down at your pajamas and wonder if maybe you should have changed. Again.

You’d finally settled on a simple pair of striped red shorts and a slightly oversized gray t-shirt. While you were picking you seriously regretted not having purchased some nicer sleepwear. Something matching and cute with lace or bows or maybe in pink?

Bucky feels like he’s more a blue guy though…

What the hell are you thinking? He has a girlfriend.

You'd put these thoughts behind you! Why are you regressing?!

There’s a second set of knocks and you jump again but peek through the peephole to make sure before opening the door.

“Sorry, I was in the bathroom.” You shove your thoughts about your pajamas as deep down into yourself as you can and keep Kali's name at the forefront of your mind. It helps.

Bucky waits a moment, frowning before moving past you with a simple duffel bag in his metal hand. He drops it by your tiny kitchen island and heads to the window in your living room.

“Was this the window?” He checks it, making sure that it’s locked before drawing the curtain shut.

“No. It was the one in my bedroom,” you tell him softly, staring intently at him because you’ve never seen him look so upset. Not even when you were giving him attitude when you'd reconnected.

He huffs through his nose, moving into your bedroom and making a beeline for that window.

He checks the lock on that one then draws the curtains shut.

“Why was your bedroom window open?” he asks, moving back around your bed and following you into the living room.

You sit down on the sofa but he doesn’t join you.

“I had just taken a shower and the bathroom was really steamy so I just wanted to air out the room. I wasn’t expecting a drunk man to show up out of nowhere.”

Is he trying to say it’s your fault?

“It would be weird if you had been expecting it. I’m not saying this was your fault. I just wasn’t sure how much balls the guy has. He could have just broken in even if the window was shut. I just wanted the facts.” He puts his hands on his hips, softening the frown on his face as he looks you over.

“It wasn’t your fault. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No. And yeah,” you agree, feeling a little silly for thinking he was trying to blame you. "I'm fine."

Shoving your hands between your knees, you look at the TV still playing some random movie you’re not paying attention to, then turn back to your unexpected guest.

“I made up the sofa for you,” you tell him, patting the seat beside you to indicate the sheets and blankets you piled on to make it more comfy.

Bucky sits beside you, startling you as you turn your eyes back on him instead of the made up sofa.

Did he think you were calling him to sit?

“Thanks,” he smiles.

"Yeah," you laugh nervously. "I hope it's not too uncomfortable."

"Honesty, I might end up on the floor anyway."

"Oh? Do you not like the sofa?" You look at it beneath you, turning this way and that to see what he might be seeing that he dislikes.

"No," he rushes to assure you, waving his metal hand gently. "No. The sofa'a great, I just…it's too soft sometimes. Everything’s a little too soft. I don't know, maybe after spending so much time frozen, modern luxuries just don't feel quite as normal as they used to."

His confession makes the ache in your chest dip. It's a different type of ache. A lamentation for the struggles of his past as opposed to jealousy or yearning.

"Oh." You reply lamely. "I uh…I can move the coffee table for you if you need more room?"

You get up and put both hands on the edge of the tabletop but before you can push it towards the TV on the opposite wall a cool metal hand closes around your wrist.

He says your name, softly.

"It's alright. If I need more space, I'll move it later. I'll try the sofa first."

Something about the way he says it eases your worries and you slowly sit back down.

"Shit," he suddenly says. "Hey, can I call Kali? I usually call her before bed."

Swallowing hard, you nod and extend a hand towards him, urging him on.

"Of course! Take all the time you need. I'll get us some drinks and snacks." With a smile you rise and move towards the kitchen.

"Thanks," he smiles.

You try not to eavesdrop as you grab two sodas and plate up some croissant sandwiches. However, your apartment is very small and it can't exactly be helped.

He doesn't move from his spot on the sofa and runs his hand along his thighs, the dark jean material hissing softly through the murmur of the TV.

"Hey, babe."

Ouch. Stupid. Let it go.

"No. Actually, I'm not at the compound."

A beat of silence.

"No. No mission." He assures her then tells her he's at your place. "Some guy tried to come in through her window earlier and he was pretty drunk. Said some pretty nasty stuff."

You wonder what she must be saying as Bucky plucks at some loose fibers on his knee. He clenches his metal fist and you assume she must be complaining or giving him a hard time--what girlfriend WOULDN'T be a little miffed about her boyfriend spending the night at some other girl's place?--but then he chuckles and rubs his knee.

"No. I won't eat all her food." He replies, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

You look away, turning your back on him in a pretense of cutting up some pickle slices but really you just can't watch him be sweet with her.

She clearly doesn't mind that he’s here which also means that she has no reason to worry.

Which means you're not a threat. Not that you want to be…but…

"Of course. I'll tell her." He says, then when he next speaks, his voice floats towards you. "Kali says hi."

You turn and give him a tight smile.

"Hi," you give him a wave to pass on then pick up the large plate with one hand and the two sodas in the other.

You stop by the coffee table and elbow the small stack of books to make room before placing the food before him.

"Yeah, of course. She’s safe with me here." He tells Kali, who must be expressing concern for you.

This fills you with guilt. You throw a thumb over your shoulder when Bucky looks at you and mouth the word bathroom.

He gives a quick nod, eyebrows shooting up, but he goes back to his conversation while you make your escape.

She's so nice! So sweet. You'd gotten the impression she was a little aloof at the park but clearly your first impression had been tainted by your own prejudice.

Gripping your bathroom sink, you shut your eyes and picture the pretty woman as you'd seen her in the park.

Again, it helps to chase away your thoughts of Bucky.

You're not sure how long you stay in the bathroom but you finally emerge and join Bucky in the living room again.

And just like that, all attempts to clear your mind of him are dashed as you blink in surprise and try not to turn away and make things awkward.

Bucky’s no longer in his jeans but rather a plain charcoal colored t-shirt and a pair of navy boxer-briefs that leave very little to the imagination.

You avoid looking at the one spot your eyes are desperate to ogle and instead see the tight and thick stretch of his thighs against the soft elastic of his underwear.

His arms strain against his t-shirt slightly and as he reaches for another sandwich, his phone left beside the spread, your eyes are assaulted by the tautness of his exposed forearms, veins bulging as he opens his soda can.

It hisses and sputters and he quickly presses it to his lips to stave the flow of sugary drink.

He's so busy watching the food and stealing glances at the TV that he thankfully doesn't notice you staring.

It takes every ounce of self control and sanity left within you to move around the coffee table, drawing his gaze as you move in front of the TV.

"You okay?" He checks. "You were in there a while."

"Uh…yeah. I had to…poop."

"You constipated?" He wonders, a wrinkle of worry between his eyes.

"No!" You insist, frowning at him but he just smiles and then chuckles once before going back to his sandwich.

Unable to stand sitting next to him on the sofa, you lower yourself onto the floor between the coffee table and the couch.

"You okay?" He checks again, sounding like a parrot who only knows one phrase.

"Yea, already! Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?" You reach out, taking the other soda and popping the can open.

Maybe you're sitting too stiffly or maybe you're a little too obvious in the guilt that you feel about crushing so hard on him while Kali is so considerate?

Whatever it is, you aren't fooling Bucky.

After what feels like ages but also seconds, warmth nudges your shoulder and you turn to look at first his thigh, which he used to push you gently, then up at his face.

He's resting his elbows on his knees, hands hanging limply at the wrist, and his face full of genuine concern.

"You really okay?"

You force a laugh, too light and airy to be real.

"Yeah!" You chuckle, putting your soda down and reaching up to scratch at your neck. "I already said I am. I'm great. You're here so, I feel safe and I'll actually be able to sleep."

As you say the words, you realize that maybe…maybe you aren't as okay as you thought and you also begin to understand that it actually has nothing to do with Bucky or Kali.

Your mind is flooded with the stench of cheap liquor and the rancid mix of men's cologne and aftershave.

Your skin tingles at the elbow remembering sandpaper skin and a clammy grip pulling you closer.

The wafting of hot, smelly breath against your face as invasive words sting your ears.

Your heart hurts, your stomach rolls, and your legs grow numb.

"Wanna cuddle?" Bucky asks, shocking you from your flashback of Paul invading the sanctity of your space.

"What?!" You gasp.

Bucky doesn't wait for you to answer but instead drops down onto the floor to sit beside you, scooching as close as he can get until his thigh is touching yours. Without hesitation he lifts his metal arm and wraps it around your shoulders.

He pulls you in a little so that you're leaning against him.

You try and pull away but his arm doesn't let you budge an inch.

"It's okay," he whispers, so quiet that his voice is even lower than the TV. "I won't let him come back in here."

Bucky’s promise falls on you heavily, weighing down your shoulders not with his arm but relief.

"Hey," he gives you a squeeze, pulling you closer as he reaches around with his other hand to wipe at your cheek.

This gesture confuses you until you realize you're crying.

He whispers your name. "I've got you."

The fear you'd suppressed grips you tight and you let yourself fall into his protective embrace.

You can feel him guide your legs over his lap as you bury your face against his neck and the tears fall freely from your eyes.

You're shaking with sobs and Bucky’s soft shushing eases the strong painful heartbreak of Paul's assault.

You know it could have been worse but it was bad enough.

Bucky holds you close, his arms wrapped around you, smothering you with his full hard body. This steel like build with his vibranium arm is the best cocoon of safety you could have ever asked for.

As he holds you, you open your eyes a few times between streams of tears and with the angle he has you, you spot a small bundle of cornflowers that you’d brought home after your day at the park.

Kali’s little arrangement had endeared them to you but now they’re withered. They’re crumbling in on themselves and now that you look at them you only see yourself here, curled against your best friend feeling, just as weathered as those delicate petals.

At one point you stop crying though your sniffling continues.

Time floats away from you and you feel weightless for a bit. You're engulfed in warmth. The familiar scent of your bed lulling you into deeper sleep.

Time passes and you wake up only enough to make vague sense of your surroundings and you notice the large width of Bucky’s shoulders and back to you. He's sitting at the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees but he's got his hands clasped together, covering his mouth as he stares at your window.

Sleepily, groggy and only seventy-two percent sure this isn't a dream, you reach out for him and your fingers graze his back.

Your touch brings him to life and he turns to his right, lifting his leg to rest it on your bed, bent so that he can face you a bit better.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers, reaching to take your still extended hand.

Instead of putting it back down he holds it, pulling it underneath his own arm so that he can intertwine his fingers with yours. He edges closer and you curl around his heat, clinging to the safety his hand holding gives you.

Somewhere in your mind you want to urge him to sleep. To rest. But you're still more asleep than awake and his soothing lulls you faster into unconsciousness.

Bucky’s scent invades every facet of your mind and you dream of only Bucky. Even as you sleep, he saves you from the nightmares that you would have had, had he not been there to chase them away.

Later, again you wake. Soft slow breathing warms your cheek. You turn and the heat of an arm slides along your hip.

For a moment, your heart stutters and you think you might still be dreaming.

You shift onto your side, turning to face him and stare for barely half a minute before you push yourself forward to nudge your head into the space beneath his chin.

He sighs heavily, arm constricting around you more securely.

He wakes.

"You okay?" He checks. You don't answer, still too far in sleep to speak. "You were crying and whining in your sleep."

His voice is deep with his own slumber and despite now being awake, he holds you tighter, pulling your bodies closer until there's no room between you.

"I'm here," he whispers again, feeling your hands shaking as you grip the back of his t-shirt.

Is this a normal reaction to what Paul did? Is this fear rational?

Your mind races with thoughts, doubting every instinct your body has put you through tonight. It lasts seconds before your mind grows cloudy again and for the last time tonight, you fall asleep.

Bucky sighs, his lips pressed gently to your crown as his own breathing slows with the knowledge that he lays between you and that stupid window.

#bucky x florist!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #flowershop au #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x florist!reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #perennial pt08 #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #bucky fluff #bucky angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention.

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes.

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger.

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator.

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me.

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sugar daddy au #au #sugar daddy!steve Rogers #sugar sugar #marvel #mcu #captain america

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

Text

the set up [chris evans]

A/n: this is the reworked version of an older fic that I wrote!!! I loved the vibe so I didn’t want to allow it to get lost in the void!!

Summary: Some mutual friends decide you and Chris would make a cute couple and decide to set you two up!! (SMUT) 6.4k

Warmings: smut, unprotected sex and they also just met so I strongly advise you to not follow their example, oral (both), brief mentions of spanking, hair pulling and dirty talk. It’s chill y’all.

This is a standalone fic, and not part of any series!

“If this girl-”

“She’s great!” Scott cut Chris off harshly, already above tired of his brother’s endless flow of nasty comments.

“I feel uncomfortable doing this!” Chris protested again from the passenger’s seat, shifting around, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “At least tell me what she’s like!”

“Gorgeous” Scott belted, nodding his head to accentuate his point, “Smart as fuck so you better control yourself” he said so sternly, not even a drop of sarcasm escaping his lips, “She’s also into old music so you can talk to her about that? Kind of-”

“So then- God this is still weird” Chris sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, not used to the idea of being set up with a girl. Maybe he wouldn’t be as terrified and nervous if all his friends hadn’t been constantly going off about how great you were, because considering their history, Chris was sure there was something horrible Scott forgot to mention.

“God what the- oh no!” you managed to exclaim as your feet ran laps around your bedroom, “How the fuck do you forget to mention he’s Chris Evans?”

“Calm down” Anne sighed burying her face into the scattered pillows around your bed, “Seriously, that doesn’t change anything, we’re all meeting in a pub, I promise you, it will be fine” she added, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Like I’m not awkward enough around idiots...” you complained again, walking to your friend to zip up your short dark blue dress. “I got this” you said as you felt the material tighten around your body, giving you a well-deserved boost in confidence.

Seated at the round table, you were so absorbed by the conversation that was being held that you failed to realize the two tall boys that approached your booth. Chris’s presence made something inside of you shift; and it wasn’t only the tingly sensation in your stomach at the sight of him, you also felt your walls build up, blocking all the confidence you ever had.

“Hi, (Y/n), right?” he greeted you, extending his arm.

With a shy smile on your lips, you stood up to shake his hand. As if your already existent butterflies didn’t exhaust you enough, his liquid touch managed to send shivers in waves, propagating across your whole body, reaching places you didn’t know could buzz like that. Chris sat down next to you, and after every time you told him something, you mentally scolded yourself for not participating more; for letting the shy side of you take control tonight.

“OK guys, next round, what would you like?” Dan, a friend of yours, raised his voice in order to get your attention as a waiter made his way to your table again.

“Vodka rocks please” you said when it came your turn, and your cheeks couldn’t help but burst into flames when Chris’s head snapped in your direction. That’s what you always had, your always go-to and everyone knew it, but to him it was new, and it certainly didn’t fit the appearance you put on.

The first part of the night flew by smoothly, at least in your opinion. If before Chris arrived you were leaning over the table trying to make a point to one of your friends, now you barely managed to gather enough courage to express your point of view in a completely trivial discussion. Maybe it was the alcohol you had ingested but you were pretty sure Chris’s eyes lingered on your bare shoulders or your lips as you talked, more than once and more than just for a second. All these thoughts, that maybe he found you attractive, maybe he cared what you had to say, everything that roamed through your head made you even more self-conscious, afraid your next action or words would let him down.

“Everybody up, I love this song” Anne commanded jumping to her feet. When you shook your head and explained that you’d rather sit through the first few songs she was quick to object. “Come on!”

“I swear, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” you promised your friend, but you were sure that what made her let you have your way was the fact that her favorite song was approaching its end and she was wasting her time at the table.

After everyone stood up and moved to the dance floor, you realized Chris hadn’t; he was on his phone, making the situation even more awkward than it had to be. You took another long sip of your drink, looking around the carefully decorated rustic pub you were in, before finally turning to him, and taping his forearm.

“Don’t you wanna dance?” you asked

“Yeah I do-” he muttered looking back and forth between you and the screen of his phone, “Just a second”

You tucked your hands under your legs, shamelessly studying his side profile. You could tell his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and the moment one of his hands traveled up to scratch the bridge of his nose, you unconsciously tilted your head to get a better view.

“Aren’t you going?” he chuckled after realizing you’ve been staring, pulling you out of your thoughts; everything about his attitude making your insides turn in embarrassment.

“I was wait- No, I’ll go-” you mumbled, preparing to stand up before his hand flew to your knee to stop you.

“No, actually don’t go, just a second” Chris said, still concentrated on his phone, apparently trying to get rid of the distraction as soon as possible. Your eyes worked their way up from his long fingers that were pressed flush against your skin, to his silver watch, further up his forearm, studying the thick veins that were protruding through his skin, to the halfway rolled up sleeve of the black shirt that wrapped itself so perfectly around his frame. You nodded when he told you to wait for him, but he had already turned his head and now you wondered if you seemed off, but before you managed to over analyze everything, he let go of your leg and tucked his phone in his back pocket.

“I’m so sorry about that” he said leaving his seat and turning, “After you”

You happily followed his actions, stepping beside him, as he placed his hand on your back, bringing you closer as you made your way to your group. After joining the small circle your friends created, you distanced yourself from Chris a little in order to have more room to dance, even if all you were actually doing was swaying and waving your hands around your body. Chris turned out to be as inexperienced as you were, his moves basically consisting of shifting his weight from one leg to the other to the beat of the unfamiliar song that was playing. The atmosphere changed soon enough, as ��I got my mind set on you” started echoing through the speakers, bringing a well awaited smile on your lips. As the first lyric repeated itself a few times, you filled yourself with all the good energy of the song, your feet elegantly dancing, as if they had a mind of their own.

“Hey” you heard Chris call softly moments before he grabbed your hand to turn you around. You welcomed him with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, careful to keep a decent amount of space between your bodies.

“Whole lotta spendin’ money” you mouthed the words, as his own hands sneaked behind you to pull you closer.

“You like George Harrison?” Chris asked smugly, remembering what Brian said about your love for old music.

“Isn’t he everyone’s favorite beatle?” you answered, extracting yourself from his hold and doing a childish pirouette before coming back against his chest.

“George Harrison is no one’s favorite Beatle” Chris retorted confused.

“That’s Ringo” you corrected him, “But I have no idea what everyone has against him”

With a shrug of his shoulders signaling his lack of an answer, he sighed heavily, his hot breath reaching your lips, before he spoke again, “Then who’s your favorite?”

“Who do you think?” you played, tilting your head to the side.

“McCartney?” Chris asked hopeful, biting his lower lip as he waited for your answer.

“Nah, Lennon” you chuckled, “Actually no- I don’t even know, I’m not even that big of a Beatles fan”. Your honest answer was as unexpected as it could be and judging by the smirk that made its way across Chris’s lips, you knew he appreciated the way you played it. “Do you like them?”

“They’re alright I guess-” Chris trailed off feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. You smiled kindly taking a step back in order to give him privacy, just in case he needed it. However, you didn’t get to distance yourself too much before he wrapped one of his arms around you from behind, and settled his chin on your shoulder. You were taken aback by his gesture, as from this position you could easily see everything displayed on his screen, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m really sorry about this but I wouldn’t answer if I didn't absolutely have to,” Chris explained as his thumb worked its way around the screen. His hot breath hit the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, and you just turned your head, pressing your forehead against his temple; the fire between your legs not allowing you to stay still anymore.

You felt his cheeks gather up a smile under your touch, and you remained like that for a few more seconds as he finished typing. Once he was done, Chris locked his phone and secured his arm around you, turning his head slowly to meet your gaze. You welcomed him with a smile of your own, but in contrast with the sweetness that was plastered on his features, yours held a more fervid kind of feeling. He was the one to close the distance, his strong hold around your frame tightening as his mouth pressed softly against yours. You felt delight bubble inside you under the careful weight of his touch, and you soon felt his tongue trace slowly along your bottom lip, begging. Doing your best not to break the kiss, you turned around in his hold and planted yourself against his chest, this time not waiting for him anymore, diving in directly, going after what was yours. Soon, one of his hands traveled up your spine to grab the back of your head, his actions growing more and more rapturous with every single grunt that escaped his throat.

Judging by the fact that three hours later your dance moves were just as elegant as they were before, you decided to grab one last drink before making your way home. With your arms folded and elbows rested on the bar, you were waiting for an employer to notice you when you felt Chris’s hands on your waist as he placed a quick peck on your cheek before plopping down on the stool to your left. He spread his knees wide apart and pulled you between his legs.

“Vodka, rocks” he said before gesturing with his hand to the waiter to bring two drinks, “How long would you have waited?” he asked, turning his attention back to you. Sarcasm was dripping off his lips, as his lazy eyes didn’t miss any detail of your features.

“It wasn’t my turn yet” you protested

“You know it doesn’t work like that, don’t you?”

“I think it does”

A tight-lipped grin appeared on his features helping his cheekbones stick out ever more under the warm, dim lights of the bar. His boyish charm may have been amplified by the way his chest hair peaked through the open buttons of his shirt, and you were all for it. You pressed your lips to his and he didn’t wait a second to reciprocate your actions, the kiss feeling as natural as if you had known each other for ages.

“Copying me?” you giggled after the bartender brought your drinks, interrupting the two of you.

“Inspired? I’m inspired!” Chris chuckled before taking a sip.

“Drunk, that’s what you are,” you answered, mocking his state, a state you weren’t far from either.

“Nah” he countered, “I’m just feeling good!”. Belting the words he threw his head back, confirming your assumption, and also giving you perfect access to the skin of his neck, which you didn’t hesitate to attack with rough kisses and soft bites. His attitude changed in an instant, becoming a weak mess under you, “Oh god, (Y/n)” you heard him moan into your ear as you worked your magic along his jugular.

Realization hit you suddenly, and remembering you were still in a public place you detached yourself from Chris and grabbed his hand to pull him back to your group.

“Are you seriously doing me like that?” Chris complained following you, fingers intertwined.

“Sorry, I got carried away”

Your night out didn’t last much longer after that, as the tension between you and Chris reached the point where none of you was willing to deny it anymore. After saying your goodbyes, you headed out through the front door and made your way to the main street in search of a cab. Despite having gathered up the courage to go to his place, the whole car ride was perfectly silent as your head quietly rested on his shoulder.

Once inside the apartment, his lips found yours faster than he had found his keys less than 5 seconds before. With your back pressed against the door while Chris sucked mercilessly on the skin of your neck, you managed to get a quick glimpse of the city lights poking through his huge window, setting an even more intoxicating atmosphere than before. You lost yourself under his touch, feeling his hot body wrapped around yours as his hands roamed shamelessly over the thin material of your dress.

Sighing, you pushed him off of you, “Bedroom” you whispered and after giving you a quick nod, Chris dived back in for a kiss, grabbing your waist and guiding you through his dark home and into his room. You sat down on the bed, as he knelt in front of you on the floor, taking your feet into his lap to undo your sandals.

“God” he muttered annoyed, as the strap refused to come undone. Giggling, you leaned forward to take them off yourself, appreciating the gesture and loving his cuteness. After getting rid of your high heels, you grabbed Chris’s collar as you leaned on your back, pulling him on top of you. This time his hands didn’t hesitate as they found their way to your ass in no time.

“You have no idea what you did to me in that dress” Chris grunted against your lips as his fingers dug roughly into your skin. He traveled down your body, peppering kisses down your chest, before resuming his position on his knees on the floor.

“Spread your legs for me” he commanded and you obliged, crawling to the end of the bed, settling your legs on each side of his frame. His hands caressed your thighs passionately, inching closer to your heat causing your breath to fasten. Chris lifted up your dress, and pushed you to lay on your back.

“Oh god” you whimpered, feeling exposed and completely vulnerable. As you leaned your head to the side and closed your eyes, the feeling of Chris’s wet lips centimeters away from your core caused you to buck your hips in surprise as he started paving his way along your thigh with soft kisses.

“You want this?”

“Please” you begged suggestively

“Look at me” he demanded in a new harsh deep tone that sent shivers down your spine. You raised your head and looked down at Chris, who upon making eye contact, tapped your hips twice. You took the hint and propped your feet on the wooden edge of the bed as he circled his fingers around the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your legs in one swift motion.

After settling back into his position, Chris probed your folds with his thumb, smiling, more to himself, pride most likely pumping through his veins at the sight of his effect on you. He finally leaned down, his mouth volunteering to take his fingers spot, as he teased his way to your clit.

“Chris-!” you hissed at the feeling of his wet tongue working carefully on your bundle of nerves.

“Mmm..mm” he hummed lowly against your sensitive spot, the vibrations of his lips adding to your pleasure, “So fucking sweet”. His voice was hurried, as he lifted his head only for a second in order to look at you. His hands came around your thighs, as he released some of his own tension by vehemently slapping and gripping your skin.

With every lap Chris worked on your clit, a painful need inside of you to spill out profanity after profanity only grew bigger, but you managed to control yourself.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” he asked smugly, and before managing to give a decent answer, you felt one of his fingers enter you slowly.

“I- Uh, god” you cried out, arching your back as your left hand flew down so you could curl your fingers around and pull on the elegant collar of his shirt. Feeling every muscle in your body tense as your hips quivered uncontrollably, you secured Chris in his place by bringing your other hand too into his hair. Realizing how on the edge you were, he added another finger, swirling them against your wall, as his lips maintained the same avid pace around your clit. Impossible to tell how much longer it took, but most likely in a matter of seconds your orgasm came thundering down on you, curling your toes as the muscles of your legs trembled furiously. Chris kept going until you let your body fall flush against his bed, when he came up to your level.

Your eyes were closed, still enjoying the last waves of bliss that traveled along your legs as he teasingly caressed your cheeks with his lips and the tip of his nose.

Coming back to your senses, you gripped his neck, wrapping your legs around his middle, pressing him down against you. His mouth slowly met yours, igniting sparkles in your chest as he tugged on your lower lip before allowing your tongue to meet his’.

After pulling away, Chris straightened up at the edge of the bed and started working on undressing himself. The metal clicking of his belt buckle prompted you to suck in a long breath, smiling to yourself at how this man could make you feel so much, as you were already craving more.

You steadied yourself on your knees and crawled over to Chris, turning your back at him and getting your hair out of the way. He didn’t waste a second before getting back to you and pulling down your zipper of your dress, which allowed his hands to roam freely under the thin material. His fingers softly caressed your sides before sneaking to the front and cupping your breasts as his lips found your neck again. He lowered himself forward, pushing you down on the bed on your stomach and climbed on top of you.

Feeling his lips burn icy tracks along your shoulders, you pushed yourself up, flipping the two of you over. You slipped out of your dress fast and straddled his hips, not caring the slightest bit about being in any way seductive; you already had him. Under you, panting in anticipation, long fingers digging mercilessly into the smooth skin of your thighs.

Your lips were again on his’, working slowly, doing your best to tease him and push his buttons. Your hands traced his sides, making their way up his body,

“Yes, fuck” Chris whined. He had managed to take off his dark shirt before you distracted him, so he was now laying on the bed, half naked with his jeans undone, waiting for you.

You slowly lifted yourself off of him and tugged at his pants, pulling them down with a little bit of help from him.

“Tell me Chris” you teased looking up at him, your face inches away from his erect cock, “You want this?”. Following your question, you licked your lips as they fell into a one sided grin.

Squeezing his eyes shut as his head went from side to side, Chris chuckled bitterly at the taste of his own medicine, “Show me what you can do”

You placed one of your hands at the top of his thigh and lowered yourself even more, maintaining the eye contact as you carefully lifted him up. With your fingers wrapped around his cock, your lips barely brushed his base before you made your way lower.

“Fuck- fuck, (Y/n)” Chris hissed, bucking his hips violently at the way you kept pushing him. He brought his hand to the top of your head, his thumb softly caressing your hair as you worked on his balls.

At an agonizingly slow pace, your hand made its way up his length and when you reached his tip, your fingers continued teasing.

“Fu- take me in your mouth, baby” he tried to demand but under your burning stare, his words came out more as a plea, a struggling moan.

You gave him a false approving nod before you licked your way up his dick, wrapped your puckered lips around his end and sucked harshly a few, short times. When his head flew black as he white knuckled the sheets, you took it as your cue to stop.

“Hey Chris” you whispered as you let his cock fall against his stomach and you climbed on top of him.

A weak chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to smile when he realized the way you were going to play this. You leaned down to his level and slipped two fingers into his mouth before gripping his chin tightly and engulfing his lips in a fervid kiss. After caressing their way up and down your thighs, his hands settled on your ass, gripping tightly as he pushed himself up to meet your core.

You lowered yourself to add to his pleasure, your tongues not parting as you started pressing down on his cock.

“Please?” you teased, your hot breath hitting his damp lips.

“You’re not going there” he stated, his dominant side starting to show as his expression darkened.

“No?” you asked guiding one of your hands between your bodies, against his hard abdomen, wrapping your fingers around his dick. You nodded your head ‘no’ as you pumped him slowly, his squinted eyes prompting a smirk to appear on your lips. You had him; no matter what he said, you could go anywhere you wanted, “No, I’m not”

You guided his tip to your folds, slipping around him without any kind of warning. Straightening your back and supporting your weight by gluing your hands to his stomach, your hips started working in circular motions along his cock. You let your head fall forward before you pushed all your hair to one side, in order to be able to look him in the eyes. His body was responding to your actions, as he kept pushing himself up in sync with your movements.

It didn’t take long before you felt your second orgasm approach, and lost in the moment, you didn’t realize Chris took notice of the choked back whimpers that escaped your throat.

“Hey gorgeous” he grunted, his big hands digging holes into your waist, “As much as I love this-” he tried to speak but ended up concentrating all his energy into picking you up and flipping the both of you over, “-this is what I want right now”. He finished his sentence with a harsh whisper in your year from behind, as you struggled to maintain your balance on your elbows under his weight.

You smiled to yourself feeling his wet, hot chest against your naked back, before he rapidly guided himself inside of you.

“Mmh- Chris-” you moaned feeling his hands roam around your body as he maintained his avid pace.

“Taking me so well, hm?” he hummed in your ear. After caressing your cheek clumsily, Chris trailed his hand on the side of your head, his fingers losing themselves in your hair as he tugged back, forming a makeshift ponytail. The forcefulness of his touch caused you to tilt your head, eyes gluing to the ceiling as he grunted in your ear.

“Hell ugh-” you screamed as your body rocked back and forth under his’.

“Who would’ve thought?” he growled, exploring the skin of your neck with his lips as he kept your head back, “The way you act- so sweet and innocent, but then you down vodkas and take my cock like a good little slut”. Chris’s words were carelessly spilling out of his mouth, the pleasure of each thrust giving him more and more trouble forming coherent sentences, “Fuck, (Y/n)-”.

He let go of your hair in order to steady himself, as his movements became sloppier and angrier by the second, “Sh- Chris!-�� you yelled gripping the sheets into your fists to keep yourself up, even though one of his arms was wrapped around your abdomen. “I’m so close, fuck, Chris!” you exclaimed again, letting your head fall against your shoulder.

He moved his hand to grip your ass tightly, before detaching it and then sending it to connect forcefully with your butt cheek again, causing a loud slap to accompany both your moans.

It’s all a blur what happened after that; his fingers kept digging into your skin hard as he was enjoying his high, the loud profanities he screamed sending you over the horizon. You soon went limp in his hold, but he didn’t pull out until he placed a loving kiss between your shoulder blades. Your whole body was trembling, from your lower lip to the tip of your toes, but the way he was still inside you as his lips carefully treated your skin, still managed to electrify your mind.

After that your night didn’t last much longer. A fragile amount of comfortable small talk emerged as you both settled under the covers but your mind was somewhere else. You had a lot of fun with him and your heart ached when you thought that this was a only one night stand after all. With your gaze getting lost in the darkness of his room, you found yourself fighting the urge to snuggle into him. As much as you wanted it, as bad of an idea you thought it was. Chris was laying on his stomach with his head in your direction, as you rested on your back. Honestly, you hoped he’d make the first move and pull you closer but he didn’t so you pushed your thoughts away. Or at least you tried. After saying your 'good night’s, much to your surprise, Chris’s hand found yours under the covers as he started to lazily play with your fingers. You smiled to yourself a little even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Your palm was against the sheets as he softly rubbed your thumb with his own. This didn’t help, all it managed to do was make you want to cuddle into his side even more, to rest your head in the crook of his neck and to fall asleep listening to his heart beat. Though none of those things happened, you managed to fall asleep on your own, despite the fact that the few inches of space between your bodies was killing you.

Surprisingly, at one point during the night you woke up. This time you were laying on your side, and it took you a couple of seconds to realise what it was that disrupted your sleep. You turned your head slowly to peak over your shoulder, and you physically felt your soul break. Chris was cuddled into your back, his whole body pressed against yours as his face was tucked into the back of your neck. You didn’t mind it, but the simple fact that his arms were gathered around himself and not around you, made it all clear. He was shivering in his sleep as the night breeze made its way in through the window that somehow was left open, and as you apparently had hogged all the covers, his pair of boxers failed to keep him warm.

“Shit” you muttered to yourself, turning around and doing your best to wrap the blanket around him. Your warm hand connected to his freezing shoulder in a pathetic attempt to warm him up, and instinctively, moments later, Chris wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. You didn’t fight him this time, you just helped him cuddle into your chest before you fell back asleep.

Ironically enough, in the morning, you woke up to Chris pulling the blanket higher up your body. You didn’t open your eyes immediately as it took you a moment to come back to reality. Right now, you were facing him but not one inch of your body was touching his. When you finally looked at Chris, he was resting against the headboard, typing away on his phone. You wondered how long he must’ve been awake for but judging by his squinted eyes, you figured that not for too long.

“What time is it?” you finally mumbled

“Shit, I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said. He turned to look at you apologetically, but a smile still made its way to his lips as soon as his eyes landed on your figure, “It’s 10:12”

“Why are you awake?” you asked, not moving a muscle.

“My phone kept ringing, I have no idea how that didn’t wake you up”

You just shrugged your shoulders and crawled a bit closer to him before closing your eyes again.

“You can go back to sleep” he whispered, lowering himself to be at the same level as you.

“No, it’s ok” you protested, bringing your arms over your head to stretch, “I just need a minute”

He settled under the covers mirroring your position. His tired eyes matched his tired smile, and his cheek squished against the pillow made him all the more adorable, “I could make you breakfast, do you want some?”

Your stomach was begging for food, but this wasn’t an offer you expected. The dudes you’ve had hook ups with like this one, usually woke up horny and then that was it.

“Oh, yees, thank you”

“I could make you pancakes, like they do in movies” he offered chuckling in his groggy morning voice.

“Pancakes…” you repeated content, mouth starting to water at the thought.

“You can sleep some more while I make them,” he suggested.

“No” you argued, rolling into your back, “I’m coming with you, the girl makes breakfast in movies”

Chris raised himself up, prompting his weight on his elbow as he hovered over you with a bitter smirk on his lips, “The girl usually leaves before the boy wakes up”

His words stung a bit, “Are you trying to kick me out?”

“God, no!” he exclaimed, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. Finally something. “That’s just what usually happens”. He was weirdly right, that was what you did most of the time too, but apparently not today.

“I guess” you agreed, looking into his big brown eyes. Before allowing the situation to slip into a direction you weren’t too fond of, you stood up on the bed, “Can you give me a shirt, please?”

“Of course” he said in an instant, jumping up from the bed and running to his closet. “This one ok?” he asked, showing you a navy blue one with long sleeves.

“Yeah” you smiled, extending your arm to grab it.

“Or this one?” he suggested again, this time a black t-shirt in his hands.

“Chris, give me the black one” you laughed before he had the opportunity to offer you another one to choose from.

You hurried to pull it over your head as he put on some gray sweatpants, and then you both left for the kitchen.

“Is this the bathroom?” you asked, pointing to a door right next to the one just came from.

“Yeah, but no” he laughed grabbing your shoulders and turning you in a different direction, “Go to that one” he gestured towards another door on the opposite side of the hallway, “This one is messy”

You wanted to protest for a second, as you were curious and maybe you wanted to snoop a little, but eventually nodded and went where he told you.

“Do you have Nutella or some kind of chocolate?” you asked, eyeing the pancakes.

“Um, no..” he mumbled, “But I can go grab some”

“What? No!”

“It’s just around the corner, I’ll be back in like 5 minutes”

“I was just asking” you giggled, grabbing his wrist, pulling him towards the table.

“It would take me-”

“Chris, no” you laughed, this time your tone was more serious.

He eventually caved, and you sat down to eat. The conversation picked up instantly and not for one second did it feel forced or uncomfortable. The awkwardness of getting too close to him disappeared immediately, as when you were halfway done, he pulled you into his lap, to demonstrate how a proper pancake should be eaten. Maple syrup and strawberry jam got everywhere but it wasn’t like any of you cared. Unlike last night, his lips were now sweet, kinda sticky even but it was perfect.

“So, like, last night you came with Anne, right? How do you know her?” he asked as he struggled to pour some more syrup on his pancakes with his left hand, as his right arm was locked around your hips.

“She’s my best friend” you answered smiling, “We actually met at the gym a few years ago”, you paused to shake your head, “God, I hate gyms”

“Why?” he asked curious

“I’m an embarrassment, I’d much rather work out at home”

“Oh god” he laughed dropping his pancake and throwing his head back, “I can make you feel better about that if you want to”

“Sure.. go ahead” you hesitated, afraid of what might come out of his mouth

“So like I was at the gym a few days ago, and there was this lady lifting some weights that, by the way, looked way too heavy for her but who am I to judge. Anyway so as she’s squatting, you know, when she tries to straighten her legs and go back up, this loud fart comes out, and I swear to god it echoed through the whole room-”

“Oh god, no!” you exclaimed, covering your eyes with your palms, “I feel so sorry for her”

“That’s not even the best part” he laughed tapping your tight to get your attention.

“We’re eating Chris, please tell me she didn’t-”

“She didn’t don’t worry” he chuckled, “So like after it comes out, she starts rummaging like crazy through her stuff, pulls out her phone and goes - I’m sorry I didn’t answer faster, it was on vibrate-”

“I’m so embarrassed for her” you whined

“Yeah, like a part of me wanted to reassure her that it’s ok but I’m sure that would’ve made everything worse” he said laughing.

“Definitely”

“And like she left for the locker room but when she came back she was still pretending to be on the phone and headed straight to the door and didn’t look back”

“I can’t” you managed to say between your giggles

“Now I’m so afraid I’ll fart in the middle of the gym” he confessed

With your pancake still in your hand, you felt your eyes start to water, trying to picture him all flustered and embarrassed and you couldn’t help but laugh even louder.

“It’s ok, you won’t” you tried to reassure him, but he was just as amused as you were

“I hope” he sighed

After you were done eating, and then done arguing about Chris not allowing you to help him clean up the mess, it was time for you to leave.

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asked, most likely sure you were going to agree, so probably that’s why his face fell when you declined.

“No, it’s ok, but have you seen my jacket?”

“You didn’t have one”

“Yes, I did, a long maroon one” you explained thinking about where you could’ve left it.

“Trust me, I know what you were wearing last night” he said smirking

“Then I must have left it at the bar, I hope someone saw it and took it”

“Wait, let me give you something to wear” he said, sprinting to his bedroom. You waited patiently for him in the hallway, realizing that this meant you had to see each other again. But you had mutual friends, someone could give it back to him for you, right? This was usually the time you blew the guy off, but this time, something inside of you simply didn’t let you.

“What about this one?” he asks, handing you an army green hoodie.

“It’s perfect, thank you”

“I don’t have your number, and I kinda want it back,” he joked, pointing to the jacket.

“Give me your phone” you laughed, and after he gave it to you, you added the number quickly and handed it back to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you, I feel bad for letting you walk home”

“No, it’s ok, it’s not that far, I’m gonna cut through the park and listen to music, it’s ok” you reassured him, stepping away from the door so he could unlock it.

Once you passed the threshold, you turned around wanting to kiss him one last time, but the moment his hands caught your waist, the teasing side of you awakened, so you just placed a long peck to his cheek.

“Bye” he laughed at your antics, before closing the door after you.

As you were walking home, you wrapped your arms around yourself, causing the smell of his hoodie to reach your nose. You were happy he didn’t give you a clean one, this one smelled like him, and maybe he chose this one on purpose. Your mind drifted back to the events of the last 15 hours and unconsciously, they put a smile on your lips. You had so much fun with Chris, and grew so fond of his sweetness, that you almost felt bad for giving him the number of your 50 year old laundromat lady.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans writing #chris evans blurb #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans one shot

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adorethedistance · 4 years ago

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READING MY BOYFRIEND’S FANFICTION?? - Owen Joyner x Influencer!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: OMGGG!! Could you do a an Owen fic based around his girlfriend being an armature youtuber/social media influencer (shes also an actress and they met on set and have been dating for a while) and it’s “reading/reacting to my boyfriend’s fanfiction” ? You can do whatever you want with the fanfic part it’s just a concept that has been running around in my head for a while. LOVE ALL YOUR WORK!!

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, very mild

Words: 1460

A/N: A fic?? From Ace?? Hi. I’m off spring break officially and so my stress has dissipated immensely. School was becoming so much these last two weeks and I thought I’d be stressed or worried, but I’m actually fine? It’s weird lol so I decided I could be productive with my stress-free moment and post a little fic for y’all. I love this prompt, and before any of you writers panic, I’m using my own fics for the fanfictions because I wouldn’t want to put y’all on the spot like that. Also this is my 3000 post! thought that was cool lol

“Do you wanna do the intro?”

“I think I have to do the intro.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out a heavy breath in exaggerated preparation for my (some would say lengthy) intro. “Hello, hi. Yes, okay, this is Y/n Y/l/n vlogs, welcome or welcome back to my channel!” Once Owen finishes his statement I’m so stunned I can’t generate any sort of response other than a slacked jaw semi smile.

“That was not even close. Do you know my intro?”

“I got the first part right!”

“You’ve lost intro privileges,” I turn back to the mess of lights and tripods in front of me and ignore the disaster of an intro Owen offered. “Oh, hello, hi! I am Y/n and this is: Reading My Boyfriend’s Fanfiction!”

“That’s basically what I did.”

“No, it is not! It’s ‘oh, hello, hi. I am ‘name’ and this is: ‘title of video’.”

“You don’t ‘welcome to my channel’?” Owen’s voice has dropped to a hushed volume as he genuinely inquires about the segments of my usual introduction.

“I do not.”

“Don’t use any of this,” he pleads when making direct eye contact with the camera. “Mister Sid. Editing Sid, please don’t embarrass me.” His pleas fall on deaf ears, knowing that I’ll be using the footage in full.

“Anyways. Butchered intro aside, I am Y/n and today I am here with my lovely “So Many Stars” costar and scene partner, Owen Joyner!”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“That too,” I give Owen’s pointed comment a soft place to land, “So, yesterday--it was actually like, two weeks ago, I don’t know why I said yesterday--a little while back, I came across a tweet telling me someone had written a fanfic about us-”

“Did you read it?”

“On Wattpad. Of course, I read it. There are only three chapters up right now and they’re all in the 2-3k range so it was a quick read.”

“2-3k?”

“Words,” I reply nonchalantly as I unlock my phone. I bookmarked a few one-shots beforehand for us to read, and I’m slightly cocky about my selections. Owen then responds with an outburst of shock.

“2-3 thousand words is a short read?” I merely give him a blank stare.

“Judging by that reaction, Owen hasn’t read any fanfics in his life.”

“Is that not long to you- That’s what she said.” Owen cuts me off with his own stupid joke and I briefly sigh before answering.

“No, that isn’t long. Baby, I’m here for that 130k slow burn enemies to lovers on AO3 with the ‘only one bed’ and ‘locked in a closet’ tropes.”

“The what?”

“Oh, we have so much to catch you up on.”

__________________________

“So I saved three fics, an angst, a fluff, and a smut. Which do you want to read?”

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“Oh my- okay. Angst is the sad shit, it’s what you read when you need your heartbroken and a good cry. Smut is pretty much in the name, it’s explicit content that will undoubtedly get this video demonetized, but that’s okay because we do have a sponsor. And fluff is the cute moments, domestic and sometimes mundane romance that makes you smile like an idiot and put the device down to screech into a pillow.” Throughout my whole explanation, I can tell Owen was becoming more and more lost, so I opt to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s start with the fluff just to ease into things.”

“Smart choice. This fic I have saved is called ‘Baby Fever’ and the summary says ‘you and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own’.”

“That sounds so ominous.”

“Here, I’ll read the narration and reader’s POV, and then you’ll read your own dialogue.” Owen nods and leans over my right shoulder to read off of my computer screen.

“You actually start the fic.”

“‘You ready, little one?’” The instantaneous actor mode Owen slips into has me howling with laughter at which he looks at me confused. My gasping for air makes Owen laugh empathetically despite still being unsure as to what’s killing me at the moment.

“Why are you laughing?!” He yells, dramatically shaking my shoulder.

“Just the way you jumped into that, I wasn’t prepared for you to turn on the acting charm. Okay, uhhhh, ‘I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat’.”

The two of us go back and forth between reading the narrative, bouts of laughter, commentary on the accuracy of Owen’s character, and we finally manage to finish the 2.5k fic in about forty minutes.

“‘When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple-’.”

“‘I told you so.’”

“That was cute! I like the tie-in of having us watching over Baby Shada- or, sorry, you and ‘y/n’ watching over Baby Shada.”

“They wrote me kinda funny, I don’t think I’d ever fabricate a life to make conversation with a stranger due to baby fever.” My jaw drops slightly and before Owen can respond to my reaction, I cry,

“That is such a lie!”

“What?”

“You absolutely would do something like that, are you kidding me?!”

“No, I would not!” Owen punctuates every word with the utmost offense. He has the same look in his eye as when he was proving himself to be the cleanest phantom of the three on the Sunset Drive podcast.

“You literally told the guy at Home Depot yesterday that we were buying plants for our child’s nursery!”

“Okay, that’s different-”

“How is that different? That’s the exact same thing as fanfic you!” Owen’s furrowed brow and dropped jaw are a sight to be seen as he leans away from me, bending at the waist to stare at me with defiance. I raise my eyebrows pointedly as I await a response. Instead of actually producing a response, Owen lunges forward, grabbing my waist in his hands and squeezing gently. The feeling makes me screech and gasp of laughter from surprise and also being ticklish.

“Owen! Owe-STOP, I’m gonna drop my laptop!” I manage to say through my laughter and with one final grab, he releases me from his hold. It takes a minute for my laughter to settle but once I do, the two of us are simply breathing heavy and staring at one another with giddy smiles on our faces. In a moment’s clarity, I turn to look into the camera lens to talk directly to my editor,

“Sid, don’t use any of this. And please don’t cut to this after we finish reading to make it look like- things were happening.”

“Actually, I think you should, Sid. Just cut to right there and make the world think we-”

“OKAY, thanks for watching, bye!” I quickly stop the recording before Owen says something we’re unable to recover from. I hear him laugh gently behind me as I set my laptop down on the coffee table behind the tripod. Coming back to the couch, I move to plop down but before landing successfully on the cushion next to my phone, Owen grabs my body and moves me to sit on top of him.

“You are crazy, you know that?”

“Hmm. Crazy for you, maybe.” His cheesy line makes me scoff but smile nonetheless. I reach my right hand up to caress the side of his face as we sit cheek to cheek.

“Remind me to never film with you again.” The gesture is sweet and the sentiment is not which makes Owen laugh and he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. I lean back into him so my back is pressed flush with his chest as he lazily wraps both arms around me.

“You say that now but you’ll regret it when you wanna do a ‘boyfriend does my makeup’ challenge video.”

“Nah. I’ll just call Charlie to-” Without allowing me to finish my sentence, Owen is digging his fingertips back into the tissue of my sides and I squeal with laughter once more. This time the torment is short-lived and Owen releases me after a sweet, reconciling kiss. “Do you have baby fever now?”

“It was cute and all, but not really, no.”

“That’s too bad,” I stand up from my spot on his lap to grab my computer and hold it to my chest, “I was gonna say we could practice some baby-making.”

And with that, I turned on the balls of my feet, heading for my bedroom when I heard Owen stand up eagerly, quick to follow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell@n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki@vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul

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mayhemcj · 3 years ago

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Sweet Jane - Kate Schmidt x GN Reader

Anonymous asked:

Saw your recent post and that you write for fear street characters (especially Kate)

Since there isn’t one Kate x male reader one shot - at least I haven’t found any - please write one where R is kinda muscular so he saves Kate from skull mask and the slicer

My bisexual heart beats for Kate and Tommy thanks

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

Fuck y’all Simon lives in this too. It’s MY fix-it fic and you’re gonna read it.

Reader sort of takes Josh’s role, atleast with the relationship with Kate

Don’t think I’ve wrote action scenes like this before so forgive me if it’s not great or drawn out. Also, I didn't really refer to the reader as masculine or feminine or anything so I hope it's okay for any reader!

Thank you anon! And thank you for reading.

WARNINGS: Quite a bit a violence, blood, pills, talk of k*lling someone, overall pretty graphic - read with caution

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

Never thought agreeing to help babysit would lead to this, but hey, gotta take chances when it comes to hanging out with Kate, eh? Not that you thought undead killers would come after you and your friends, of course.

Needless to say, tonight sucked (besides maybe kissing Kate). You thought you were finally free after blowing up 3 assholes in the school bathroom, but their actual flesh seemed to pull off the walls and form into people again. You all locked yourselves in a nearby classroom, and after almost sacrificing Sam for your own sakes, you and Josh eventually brainstormed into the second best idea you had tonight; Sacrifice Sam again (sort of).

You all sprinted to the convenience store that Simon worked at, that was thankfully nearby, and started to set up your brilliant plan: Kill Sam Fraser. Sort of.

You planned out everything, to the pills, the blood, covering the exits, and you started to set up.

You guessed you were so caught up in getting everything perfect, that you didn’t realize the real predicament you were in until Kate was smearing Sam’s blood on your chest.

“Uh.. Kate?”

“Yeah?” She asked, finishing up the X on your front.

“What if.. What if we don’t.. Make it?” You spoke quietly.

She dropped her hands and looked up to you, holding your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“We’re not gonna die, okay? I’ll make sure of it.” She pressed your foreheads together for a few seconds, then stood straight. “Now go cover those exits.”

She walked off as Simon walked towards you, smirking and patting your shoulder.

There were only 3 killers, atleast that were properly after you, so not everyone would end up with a killer, right? You couldn’t tell if you wanted to come across one, or if you wanted the others to deal with them. Certainly a moral dilemma. Obviously you didn’t want anyone to die in this, but fuck, it was scary.

After watching your assigned exit for a bit, you started to hear noises that you assumed weren’t your friends.

That was when you heard Deena scream, followed by a flash of light and Kate’s voice.

You run to the end of your aisle, and see Skull Mask on fire and Kate running off the other way. You took that as a sign to run back to where you were and looking around the aisle, anything that could possibly be used as a weapon.

You tried to think but heard Kate scream, and all thought except keeping her safe left your head.

You sprint to the bakery/deli, and see Skull choking out Kate.

You launch over the counter and onto the killer’s back, holding your arm around his throat.

He dropped his knife and Kate, leaving her coughing on the ground.

He tries to pull you off, slamming you against walls and counters, but you don’t let go. All you saw was red.

You didn’t know how, you couldn’t really see, but he somehow got his knife back into his hand.

He tried to cut your arm to get you off, which he succeeded in cutting you, but you still held on.

You groaned as he hit your back on the edge of the counter. He leaned back on you, pressing you back onto the edge. You almost let go when you felt him go limp as Kate screamed, black blood leaking onto your chest.

Once Kate had caught her breath, she got up and grabbed a nearby bread knife and put it through his forehead.

You hesitantly let go and watched his body fall in front of you, looking up to see Kate, also splattered in black blood.

“Come on, we gotta go!” Kate whisper-yelled.

You didn’t say a word as you hopped back over the counter, pulling her over with you afterwards. You grabbed her hand, rushing around the back of the store to look for Simon and Josh.

They both came out separate ends of the aisles, seeing you both and running towards you.

When you realized the Nightwing Killer was right behind Simon, you pushed everyone to run towards where Sam and Deena were, but they weren’t there. You were cornered.

Nightwing had turned around to your group, you could hear Ruby around the corner, and you saw Skull after who you assumed to be Sam and Deena. You stood in front of your group, Kate right behind you.

You shut your eyes, but could still see the dim store lights flicker on you. You opened your eyes, all the killers gone.

Sam died.

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

Sorry if this seemed.. Rushed? I guess that’s how action scenes go in my head, or maybe I just couldn’t think of anything else. Either way I hope you enjoyed!

Pt. 2 perhaps?

#kate schmidt x reader #kate schmidt x male reader

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hopemakesstuff · 3 years ago

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Protecting Assets

Hey y’all so uhhh I don’t normally do this kind of thing but a couple of my friends and I have been on a major Danganronpa kick these past few months since one friend in particular just recently got in the series, and part of that major kick has been discussing various AUs (mostly of the G/t variety).

One AU in particular that we’ve all latched onto involves sizeshifter!Makoto, wherein one Makoto Naegi has the ability to alter his size somewhat at will, and the various shenanigans that ensue as a result of him trying to keep that ability a secret from his peers.

So anyway here’s a little fic I wrote based on some various brainstorming we’ve come up with.

A bit of helpful background info before I jump in:

Makoto can shrink or grow mostly at will. His abilities are sometimes influenced by his emotional state or physical well-being. (i.e.: he shrinks if he doesn’t get enough sleep or eat enough.) It’s basically a way for his body to conserve energy.

Makoto’s clothes shrink or grow with him accordingly. Because this is fiction and I do what I want. (Let’s just say his clothes are made from a special kind of material or something idk)

I don’t really have a specific time in mind for when this particular fic takes place, but definitely after the first murder.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Makoto’s return to consciousness was a slow one. His senses came back to him gradually, starting with the feeling of soft fabric cocooning him on all sides. It honestly took him a moment to even realize that his eyes were open, given how dark his surroundings were—almost pitch black, save for a thin line of light peeking in overhead.

His first guess was that he’d probably gotten tangled up in his bedsheets, but… the longer he sat there, the more that didn’t seem quite right. Instead of a mattress beneath him, the only firm surface he could really feel was a wall on his left side. At least, he was pretty sure it was a wall.

Maybe he was laying on some kind of hammock? Of course, that only begged the question of where he was, and how he’d gotten there in the first place. Surely he wasn’t in his dorm room…

Well, wherever he was, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. The faint hum of the air conditioning was the most prominent noise, but he was pretty sure he could hear someone breathing as well. Aside from that, the only other sound Makoto could make out was the occasional turning of a page, as if someone was looking through a book.

He wasn’t alone.

The desire for answers only grew more urgent as that realization came to him. He obviously wasn’t going to get those answers if he just kept laying around, though.

Trying to find any decent sort of foothold was a challenge, but Makoto was eventually able to pull himself up to a standing position as he clung to a small portion of the fabric. Then came the process of actually trying to climb his way up toward the opening above him. It took a considerable amount of effort, but after a few moments, he managed to pull it off.

Poking his head out, the first thing that caught his eye was the array of bookshelves lining the wall just ahead of him, all crammed to maximum capacity.

The library.

What was he doing in the library?

“Oh, you’re finally awake.”

Makoto let out a rather undignified yelp in response, nearly losing his grip on the fabric in the process, but it wasn’t necessarily the suddenness of the voice that had startled him. Part of it had to do with the familiarity—he knew that voice, and hearing that person speak was plenty surprising all on its own. But it also had to do with the proximity and volume. Each word practically reverberated through his entire body, shaking him down to the core. Not loud, per se, but… big.

Turning his gaze upward, Makoto immediately locked eyes with the voice’s owner. Those icy blue irises practically pierced through him like a pair of daggers.

“B-Byakuya? Wh—”

Before he could form a proper question, the sight of a massive hand descending upon him caused Makoto to choke on his words. He didn’t have any time to react as equally massive fingers coiled around him, hoisting him up with all the care of someone retrieving a handkerchief from their pocket.

That was where he’d been. Byakuya’s pocket.

That realization alone was more than enough to send his mind reeling—nevermind the lack of concern Byakuya showed when handling him.

The Togami heir all but dumped him onto the desk, nearly causing him to fall over. Thankfully, Makoto somehow managed to keep his footing. Now he just had to contend with the fact that he was trapped in the library with Byakuya looming over him.

God, it was bad enough that Byakuya already knew his secret. Actually being caught in his most vulnerable state was a nightmare come to life.

For the longest moment, there was only silence between the two boys. Makoto was almost too nervous to even breathe, let alone speak.

Eventually, though, Byakuya seemed to grow bored with their little staring contest.

“How much longer are you going to be stuck like this?” he questioned, setting his book aside and crossing his arms.

“I… What?”

“You heard me.”

Sure, Makoto heard him, but that didn’t make it any less confusing.

“I don’t… I’m not sure? What happened? Why was I—”

“You don’t remember? Hmph, figures,” Byakuya huffed. “You fainted right outside your door, and then your little… quirk kicked in. You’re lucky I was the one who found you.”

Makoto didn’t know if he necessarily agreed, but he wasn’t about to say so.

His memory started coming back after that, though.

In the aftermath of the last class trial, it would’ve been a huge understatement to say that Makoto was feeling stressed out. He could hardly remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal. Or gotten a full night of sleep. Normally he was a lot better about taking care of himself, given the consequences that came about with his shifting if he didn’t, but…

Could anyone really blame him for slacking a bit?

“So, you… brought me with you to the library?”

“I can’t keep you in check if your secret gets out prematurely, now can I?”

Ugh. Right. Now things were starting to make more sense. Byakuya just wanted to make sure he still had blackmail material.

“So? How much longer?” The affluent progeny didn't even bother trying to hide his annoyance at having to ask the question a second time.

“Well, um. I mean… it depends,” Makoto tried his best to explain. “How long was I… er, how long has it been since you found me?”

Byakuya looked over at the clock above the door.

“Just over two hours.”

Two hours?!

To think he’d been alone with Byakuya for that much time, unconscious and barely more than three inches tall… Makoto didn’t want to let himself dwell on that for too long.

At least he was still in one piece.

…For now.

“Um, I guess I could try shifting back up now?” he offered.

Byakuya didn’t give any sort of verbal response. He just sat there, watching and waiting.

Taking that as his cue, Makoto tentatively made his way over to the edge of the desk and sat down. He briefly thought about asking Byakuya to set him on the floor, but quickly pushed that idea aside. Better to avoid any more rough handling if he could.

Makoto then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. Even without looking, he could practically feel Byakuya staring at him the entire time.

But more importantly, after a few moments, he could also feel himself beginning to grow. Namely he could feel the surface of the desk gradually getting smaller and smaller beneath him.

When he opened his eyes, he was now looking down at Byakuya, if only just slightly. Back to his normal height, thank god.

“Hm. Fascinating.”

All it took was that one word to send a shiver crawling up Makoto’s spine. Just the way Byakuya said it left him more than a little uncomfortable. Like he was some kind of science experiment or something.

“R-Right, well. I should go,” he stammered out rather quickly before hopping off the desk and heading for the door.

Just as he was about to reach for the handle, he paused to look back over his shoulder. Byakuya had already gone back to reading whatever book he'd been looking through earlier.

“I, um… Thanks? For making sure no one else saw me like that.”

Even if Byakuya’s motivations for doing so had been purely selfish, thanking him still felt like the right thing to do.

A noncommittal grunt was the only reply Makoto got, though. Byakuya didn’t even look up from his book.

Well, there was no point sticking around any longer than he already had. After leaving the library, his next intended destination was the dining hall. Nothing really sounded good if he was being honest, but… for the sake of making sure he didn’t pass out again, he figured it would be best to find something he could stomach.

#my writing #writing #danganronpa #gtronpa #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #dr makoto #dr byakuya #sizeshifter AU #sizeshifter!Makoto #g/t #g/t writing #giants/tinies

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starbuckie · 4 years ago

Text

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld

prompt: “we’re divorced?”

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :) this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died.

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England.

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them.

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.”

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.”

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light.

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel.

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips.

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice.

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy.

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her.

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity.

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground.

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see.

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.”

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his.

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending.

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky.

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-”

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies.

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’.

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.”

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?”

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?”

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart.

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.”

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.” Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty.

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised.

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.”

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.”

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room.

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!”

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?”

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.”

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed.

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

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echos-newlegs · 4 years ago

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I return with part two of this fic. I dunno how good it will be, started it at 11:37pm because I can’t sleep lmao. I found a prompt list tho and I’ll be posting that shortly 😳. Also I am a Tom boy so please excuse this chapter. I dunno words of things or how most girls dress up for dates. I’ve never been on one, and my purse is deep, blue Jean, pockets and a Star Wars wallet ✌️🥸

Warnings: Implied sexual themes, it doesn’t go into depth though. I may write the hanky panky in a separate chapter if y’all want.

Part one - This is part two

You and Echo hung out anytime he made his return to Corusant. It could be days after, or even months. Echo always had this horrid feeling that one mission would go wrong, and he wouldn’t be able to see you again. Or that you would decided seeing a clone wasn’t worth it, and move on. If you would even consider what the two of you had as, ‘seeing one another.’ You on the other hand were just worried for his safety. He didn’t make you feel self conscious or like he would move on and find someone new. He was so loyal, even if what you had wasn’t official.

After nearly six months of knowing one another. Seeing each other a near twelve times, bringing both you and your daughter back a gift after each mission. Or just a fun story about he and his brothers for the two of you. Though, Echo finally asked the last time if he could officially take you on a date. One with just the two of you. He adored your daughter, but having a five year old running around did tend to kill the mood, and you understood. Nearly jumping into his arms with a grin as you kissed his cheek. Blurting ‘yes!’ almost a little, too excitedly.

You were just getting ready to leave your house. Purse hung over your shoulder as your shoes clicked on the tile of your kitchen. You weren’t wearing anything super fancy, you didn’t wanna overwhelm yourself or Echo. It was still casual, but it was nicer than your normal. Exiting the house and locking the door behind you, after making sure the lights were all off for the thousandth time. When Echo came up behind you with a grin. “You ready?” He asked, you jumped a bit and you turned to see him. He wasn’t in his armor for once, nor his blacks. Which he would occasionally lounge around your home in until— who you learnt was his brother Fives— was ready to leave.

You smiled and swatted at his arm. “Warn a girl before sneaking up on her,” you teased. Echo tittering a bit. “Not my fault you’re always so jumpy,” “am not,” “Y/N, I could argue differently. You nearly punched me last time I saw you because your daughter let me in the house.” You scoffed, the two of you beginning your stroll down the street to who knows where. “You deserved it, not like I expected someone in full armor to be standing in my kitchen eating Star cherry dessert!” Echo laughed at that, causing you to laugh with him.

The two of you continued your stroll. You were thankful to have a night to yourself. Plus C/N got a night with friends. “Where are we going, anyways?” You asked, looking to your side to see Echo grinning. “You’ll see.” Was all he said. You weren’t really one for surprises. You were impatient and somewhat stubborn, and he knew this. Causing a sigh to leave your lips as the two of you strolled the dim lit streets.

Echos hand brushed against yours, fingers reaching to catch yours. You accepting his offer. Taking his hand into your own and leaning against his side a bit. You could of swore you heard him release a breath, too. Making you smile a bit more. In all honesty, even if the two of you just walked around the city, you would be the happiest person alive. Internally squealing when his thumb started rubbing over the back of your hand.

You came up to a diner, tilting your head a bit. “Echo, I could have made us something.” You spoke, looking over to him and he shook his head. “No no, this is supposed to be us relaxing and spending time with each other. Not me making you cook.” You were about to argue with him, but the look he gave you made you close your mouth and nod in agreement. “Alright, but I’m paying for myself.” Echo snickered and pulled you inside. “Alright, fine, deal.”

The two of you sat at a booth by the window. Across from one another as music played in the background, faintly. You both gazed over the menu, deciding what looked best. “You ever been here, Echo?” You asked, looking up to catch his gaze. “No, actually, but I’ve wanted to try it, have you?” You nodded, “I work here,” you added with a grin as you watched his smile fade. “Oh, I uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You snickered, shoving him from across the table. “Echo, I’m kidding, I work at a repair shop. I used to work here though, back when I was a teen.” You added and he smiled once more. Stars, how you could watch him smile for hours.

He raised a brow and stared at you, interested. “You repair things, like what?” “Speeders, droids, tech, you name it. It was something I learnt from my dad and brothers, and it pays the rent.” You added and he nodded. “Might have to have you look over my communicator for my helmet some time,” and you hummed in thought. “It’ll cost you,” he raised his brows. Grin only widening. “Oh yeah, and what’s the price?” Though before you could even think of a response the waitress was there with a pen in hand. “What will the lovely couple have to drink.” The comment caught you both off guard, blushing and rambling. “Oh,” “we’re not-“ “he’s just-“ “A friend?” The waitress asked, a hip popped out as she smiled mischievously at the two. “Uh huh, and I work here for fun. What’ll it be for drinks?”

The two of you stared at her and then glanced at each other. You speaking up first, since it was obvious Echo had no idea what he wanted. “A Star Cherry malt, please.” The waitress nodded, and wrote it down. “Just one or two?” “Just one,” Echo interrupted you before you could speak. You glanced over to catch him smile. “Alright, one Star cherry malt on its way.” And off she went.

The moment she returned with the drink Echos eyes lit up with curiosity. “Do you two need a moment before you order?” “Yes please, ma’am,” you spoke, and she nodded. Walking off again. You looked back to Echo and raised a brow. “Have you ever had a malt?” He shook his head, ‘no.’ You would have been surprised, if he hadn’t acted like you made gold each time he ate with you at home. “No, on Kamino, we were...” he trailed off a bit. “Programmed to not intake sweets. It messes with our energy.” He added and you snorted. “It messes with everyone’s energy, hun. Now try some. If you like the cookies I bake, then you should like this flavor.” He didn’t think twice before taking one of the straws and taking a drink.

His eyes were focusing. Eyebrows raised. Pulling back to look at you with a childish grin. “So?” “It’s amazing! Why do I even listen to anyone besides you, I’ve been hidden from everything!” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but giggle. Pointing out some of your favorites on the menu. He stuck to some simple things. The two of you splitting fries and eating burgers. Absolutely enjoying your time together.

Once finished, you paid, like you said you would. He didn’t argue either. The two of you walking home, hand in hand. “When will you be back?” You asked, expecting he would have to leave the moment you got back to yours. “Tomorrow, if you’ll let me? We don’t leave for our next mission until the day after, I technically don’t even have to be back to the bunks tonight. I could crash on your couch if I wanted.” He told you. You looking up to him with a grin. “You know, the heater in my apartment went out, I’m doubtful you’d want to stay on my couch.” You spoke, looking down towards your feet. Him sighing and pulling you closer. Draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, now I want to more, I thought you fixed things anyways?” He asked and you furrowed your brows with a grin. Pulling your keys out and unlocking your door when the two of you got to your place.

You pushed the door open and pulled him inside. Shutting it behind the two of you. “I do, but no ones asked me to. I don’t just hand out help for free, you know.” You told him. Making it a point to drag your hand up his arm as you walked off down the hall. Flipping on the lights. You knew he was right behind you, too. Following you like a lost dog. “So, did you wanna stay the night?” You asked, looking back to him, and he shrugged. Licking his lips as he looked around and then back to you. “I can, if you’ll let me. I can get out of your hair, if you want me to?” He asked. “Come back tomorrow.” You shook your head with a grin. “No need, we can watch a movie and lay on the couch for a bit, then you can keep me warm tonight.” You added with a wink. Snickering at the taken back expression he gave you. “I’ll return, I’m going to go change, you get comfy, Echo.” You murmured and he nodded. “Sure thing, Cyar’ika.” He added, and pulled his nice clothes off. Blacks resting underneath as they normally were.

When you returned your hair was down, what little makeup you had on was removed, plus you were in your sleep wear. Baggy clothing that made you look smaller in his eyes, but he loved it. He was sitting on the couch already, waiting for you to return. You smiled and grabbed the remote as you sat next to him with a sigh. Looking over at his awkward form. Scrunched together, hands to himself. He didn’t cease to surprise you. How one second he could be touchy, and the next moment too embarrassed to even hold your hand anymore. “You know, you don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.” You added. Looking at the screen. Finding a holovideo for the two of you to watch. Or even just have it as background noise.

Your lips pressed together when he eventually wrapped his arm around you. Pulling you against him as you rested your head against his shoulder. Neither of you were really paying attention to the screen at this point. Too distracted by one another’s presence. Hands eventually finding one another. “What does.. Cyar’ika mean?” You asked. Looking up to him with a curious and innocent gaze. A blush creeping up the back of his neck as he pretended to pay attention to what was happening in the holo. “It uh..” He stammered, you listening intently. “It means, sweetheart. Or Darling.” He admitted. Glancing down to meet your gaze. You were in awe, really. It really did mean the world to you.

Then you got an idea. Eyes darting down to his lips, and then back to his eyes. “I think I know what it’ll cost for me to look at your helmet,” Echo was curious now. Turning a bit to face you with a small smile. “Oh, and what is that?” You sat up a bit more. Leaning a bit closer to his face. “A kiss.” You murmured, lips ghosting against his. His hands moving to hold at your waist and his attention was all yours now. Both of your faces heated red. Hearts pounding in your chest. You squirming a bit under his touch and gaze. “Then what are you waiting for?” He asked, and that was all you need before your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, everything you imagined from the Arc Trooper. Hands reaching up to cup the sides of his face as your lips danced a slow rhythm. Humming a bit into the kiss as he pushed you back and down against the couch. Shifting himself to he was placed in between your legs, hovering above you.

When your lips parted you nearly whined. The two of you panting, eyes half lidded. Eyes roaming each other’s faces. “You ready for bed yet?” You asked with a small smile and a smirk. Echo grinning down at you. Though this grin was a bit wolffish, wild. Full of mischief. “Is that even a question, cyare?” He asked, voice a bit gruff as he leant down and captured your lips again. Before moving off and lifting you from the couch. Carrying you back into your room. Legs and arms wrapping around him as the two of you were a bunch of giggling messes. Kissing here and there as he scurried off with you in your arms. That night you and him both kept warm, almost too warm at some points.

#arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo #star wars #star wars writing #the clone wars #writing #the bad batch #echo x reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars echo

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lizmaximoff · 4 years ago

Note

What about Hopper giving Joyce her first big orgasm, like the first with someone else

A Supernova

Jim Hopper x Joyce Byers

Rating: E (18+) for Explicit Sexual Content

Summary: Joyce Byers never really understood what it meant to be sexually fulfilled until Jim Hopper got his hands on her.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Whoops my hand slipped and I wrote a drabble instead of a HC. My very first Jopper fic. Y’all should be proud. This is just PWP. Strictly lemon.

Lonnie was a lot of things, but a generous lover definitely wasn’t one of them.

Joyce even found herself repulsed by the very idea of sex, despite her separation from her ex years ago. It was something she never understood; even the idea of self-pleasure seemed to be too tiring and disappointing. If she couldn’t get herself there, then who could? For Joyce, there was nothing better than drinking a glass of red wine, smoking a cigarette, and taking a long bubble bath in an empty and quiet house.

That was until Jim Hopper walked into frame.

They were always close friends, even in high school. And, of course, Joyce had always heard rumors about her friend’s numerous hookups and sexual expertise, even into the late years of their adulthood. But she hadn’t prepared herself for what that experience would actually be like.

It happened after a few weeks of sneaking around and making out in the back of Hopper’s police truck like teenagers. The kids were with the Wheeler family at their cabin in Indianapolis. Joyce had gotten off of work early, and Hopper had just finished patrolling the town square.

It was the perfect night to try.

They fumbled into Joyce’s house, their hands roaming on one another until Joyce eventually led him to her bedroom, their lips only parting briefly for her to lock her front door. She laughed and blushed as he pushed her down onto the mattress, his hands rubbing calming circles over her hips.

“You’re too damn cute, you know that?” he asked, scrunching his nose as a smile pulled at his lips, the whiskers of his mustache twitching slightly.

Joyce smiled, brushing her bangs out of her eyes before biting her lip, “Aren’t you a charmer?”

The man smiled broadly, giddy with excitement as he began to press firm kisses down the woman’s slender neck. Her hands flew to thread through his hair, her legs wrapping snugly around his waist.

Something about being with Jim made her want to try to enjoy herself. The way he looked at her made her feel bashful in the best way possible.

Their clothes were off in minutes, Hopper’s hand immediately nestling itself in between Joyce’s thighs, causing her to gasp in shock.

“You like that?” he murmured with a slick grin, licking his lips as two of his fingers rubbed over her bud in slow circles.

Joyce’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her thighs spreading wider for him as she arched her neck in a silent cry for more.

With a chuckle, Hopper kissed his way down her body, a free hand massaging one of her breasts as his face became eye level with the apex of her thighs.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asked in wonder, his eyes soft as they glazed over her glistening folds.

“Do what?” she asked, somewhat confused as she looked down at him.

“Too damn cute,” he whispered to himself before leaning in to lick a stripe up Joyce’s slit.

The woman yelped, arching her back against the mattress as Hopper began to suckle on her clit, the sounds coming from his mouth obscene and driving her further to the brink.

“So wet,” he murmured against her, his tongue wagging up and down her folds before poking inside of her.

Joyce hadn’t known what this feeling was or what something like this would even do to her. Of course, she had seen things like this happen in pornographic movies, but no one had ever dared to do the sinful things that Hopper’s tongue was doing to her right now. It felt electric, like every limb was starting to grow a fuzzy feeling. It felt like she was on the brink of something spectacular, a supernova of sensations.

His mouth moved back to her clit, two of his fingers sliding into her with a small amount of resistance.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, popping off of her clit to look up at her. “You okay, doll?”

Joyce’s jaw dropped at the feeling of being filled up so slowly and so fully. Her hands grasped at her breasts as she nodded quickly, breathing a laugh into the air with a large smile.

Hopper could watch her smile like this forever.

Once his fingers were fully sheather, he began to motion up against her walls in an effort to find her sweet spot. His mouth returned to her clit, sucking and licking until Joyce turned into a complete mess, her moans tumbling off of her lips quicker than she ever experienced.

Only a few minutes had passed before she felt her abdomen begin to warm and tighten. She reached her hand down her body to grab Hopper’s free hand, squeezing and whimpering as she climbed higher and higher into heaven.

“That’s it,” he growled against her, his vibrations shaking her to her core. “You gonna come?”

She nodded wordlessly, nearly sobbing at the feeling he was giving her.

“Come for me,” he whispered, sucking even harder, his fingers squelching through her folds deliciously as the pace quickened.

That’s when the chord within her snapped.

Joyce had never known what it was like to truly come, but the only way she could describe it was like floating, suddenly being lifted off of the ground only to elevate peacefully in the air. Her tiny and quiet whimpers became loud moans, her cheeks staining with tears as she relished in the feeling of her body being overly stimulated by Hopper’s mouth.

She came down slowly, Hopper never letting up until she brushed the hair out of his face gently and whispered, “That’s it, baby.”

His face broke out into a grin before traversing up her body, nestling his hips between her thighs as he cupped her cheeks gently.

“That was...” she began, trailing off before blushing and shaking her head, completely giddy as she tried to form the right words.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he teased, kissing across her jaw. “I made Joyce Byers speechless.”

Tagged: @damerondjarin / @cant-shake-this-feeling-off / @the-undateable / @alumiinikuu / @eleanor-gillespie / @ottosuricato / @thirstyforhop / @we-are-all-a-messs / @littlemissthistle / @littlebluehairtie / @im-not-great-at-making-up-names / @beltzboys2015-blog / @kate110199 / @danakatherine-scully / @fabulous-brii / @girlwiththenegantattoo / @nerd-without-a-cause / @himjopper / @hopperlover / @ashtheironbat / @mylove-isnot-fragile / @yourmajesty13 / @southparkers / @mrs-geuse / @oxforddrama / @zombiesnips-blog / @missaudreyhorney / @alias-b / @bratty-dolly / @littlebadgirly / @hagarsays

Send me a message if you’d like to be tagged in any future works!

#jopper #jim hopper x joyce byers #joyce byers x jim hopper #jopper fic #david harbour #winona ryder #mine #ff #lizmaximoff fics

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ais-for-alex · 4 years ago

Text

Come Dance With Me:

So I don’t remember if I actually posted this one on tumblr or not (I couldn’t seem to find it but tbh I also didn’t look to hard) anyway this is a fluffy little fic I wrote awhile ago about the cubs dancing to country music and it’s one of my favorites so I’m gonna share it again. As always characters belong to @lumosinlove 🥰

***

Finn shivered as he tried fitting the key into his front door, somehow the cold winter air had seemed to seep into his bones while he was out running errands. His fingers fumbled with the key numb from the biting air, he knew he should have worn gloves before he left that morning but he couldn’t be bothered to actually find a pair. When he finally slotted the key in and stepped into the apartment, warmth washed over him making him sigh in relief.

“Honeys I’m home!” he called out to Leo and Logan as he slipped out of his jacket and kicked off his sneakers.

“In here,” Leo’s voice called out from the kitchen. Finn felt a smile creep onto his face, as he padded farther into the apartment. Heading towards the kitchen he could smell the delicious aroma of Leo’s cooking and hear soft music issuing from their speakers. Finn paused leaning against the kitchen doorframe a bubble of warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched Leo sway to the rhythm while stirring a pot on the stove, listening to the soft sound of him humming to the music.

Suddenly Leo glanced over his shoulder and spotted Finn watching him, he grinned before flicking the burner to low and setting his spoon aside then turned and opened his arms in a warm invitation.

Finn couldn’t help but let himself be drawn into Leos warmth his long arms wrapping around him.

“Welcome back baby,” Leo said softly pressing a kiss into his red curls, there was a deeper twang in his voice than usual, it made Finns insides squirm. “Have fun at the DMV?” he asked jokingly.

Finn shuddered lightly and pulled away from Leo a grimace on his face as he leaned back against the counter, “I swear to god I was in that line for three hours just for the lady to hand me a form to sign, at this point I am fully convinced that place is literal hell.”

Leo rolled his eyes and chuckled before turning back to the stove.

“Watcha making?” Finn asked leaning over to peer into the pot the smell making his mouth water.

“Mmm, potato soup. I know, probably not the healthiest choice but it’s freezing outside and I felt like comfort food.”

“Hey, no complaints from me it looks amazing Nutty,” Leo smirked at that and sprinkled cheese into the pot.

“Where’s Lo?” Finn asked jumping up to fully sit on the counter he reached over and snagged piece of bacon from where Leo had left them to cool.

“Hey!” Leo said swatting at his hand, “those are for the soup.”

Finn simply grinned and munched happily on the crispy piece.

“Lo said he’s spending the night at Dumo’s. Apparently Katie got sent home from school sick and wouldn’t stop crying until he came over.”

“I guess it’s just you and me tonight then,” Finn said, watching as Leo covered the pot to let it simmer.

He turned to Finn with a soft look in his baby blue eyes before walking forward and slotting himself between Finns open thighs running his hands up them appreciatively.

“I guess so,” Leo leaned forward and caught Finns Lips in a kiss so sweet he felt like he would melt into a puddle right on the counter. Finn could feel the smile on Leo’s mouth as he slid his fingers into silky blond hair pulling him in closer, his legs wrapping around Leo’s waist.

Suddenly Leo pulled away with a gasp of surprise, leaving Finn to chase his lips, “Ah! I love this song!” Leo said happily as the music shifted to the opening notes of something new. He leaned forward again and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Finns mouth and whispered, “Come dance with me baby?”

Finn nodded grinning and slid down from the counter, “of course I will peanut butter.”

Leo led Finn out into the open center of the kitchen and wrapped an arm around his waist pulling him in close until they were nearly pressed together, his other hand holding Finns as they began to sway together moving in circles to the music. With a sigh Finn closed his eyes and pressed his face into Leo’s neck letting him lead him around their kitchen, he could feel the gentle vibrations as Leo began softly humming to the song.

Suddenly Leo’s voice deep with the twang of his southern accent was crooning in his ear the lyrics of a love song, “There's a difference between ‘miss ya’ and ‘I miss your face’ And there's a difference in ‘what's going on?’ and ‘baby, how was your day?’ Yeah, there's a hell of a difference in saying three words or kinda just meaning two, there's a difference in ‘love ya’ and ‘I love you’ And I wanna be the difference, yeah I do.”

Finn was filled with so much love for this man he felt like his heart would burst, he simply basked in the warmth of Leos palm on his lower back pressing him close, and the feeling of his strong heartbeat against his cheek.

***

Logan was completely content to be tucked under Finns arm as they laughed with the crowd, cheering as James got thrown from the mechanical bull. The flashing lights nearly blinding and the music so loud if felt like it was vibrating his bones.

The team was high with adrenaline from their win against Dallas Logan could feel it buzzing through his veins along with the alcohol from his rum and coke. Everything felt warm and happy and when Finn threw his head back laughing Logan couldn’t help but press his lips to the exposed column of his throat, loving the way he could feel him swallow each sip of his drink.

Somehow despite his height Leo had disappeared into the crowd not long after the team had arrived loud and raucous in celebration. Logan glanced around searching for his tall frame but all he could see was a flood of cowboy hats and denim.

“I’ma get a new drink!” Finn yelled over the music, he held up his glass that was now only filled with ice for emphasis.

Logan nodded and let Finns arm fall from his shoulders, he instead snagged his hand and let Finn lead him through the crowd in the direction of the bar.

“What can I get y’all?” the bartender asked.

“Dark and Stormy for me, want anything Lo?”

Glancing down into his half full glass he shook his head, “Nah, I’m good.”

Finn turned back to relay the info to the bartender, while Logan let his gaze wander over the crowd once again.

“Hey, have you seen Nut at all tonight?” he asked Finn.

“Hmm, he said he was going to the bathroom back when we first got here. Haven’t seen him since,” Finn replied taking his cocktail from the bartender. However, Logan didn’t hear him because his eyes had locked on to a tall figure.

“Lo?” Finn asked following his gaze then letting out a gasp at the sight. Leo had fallen into formation with a massive group of people all following the same steps to the music booming through the bar. Somewhere along the way Leo had acquired a cowboy hat that had blue turquoise stones on it, the smile on his face was wide and bright and made like he was laughing, the flashing lights turned his pale skin blue and pink. Logan watched transfixed as he danced thumbs tucked into his pockets not missing a step.

Suddenly Leos eyes found him standing at the bar with Finn watching and his smile turned sultry as he rolled his body to the beat seemingly putting on a show for his boys. Once the song ended Logan lost sight of Leo in the crowd once more. That is until he felt strong arms wrap around him the heat of Leos body pressed flush against his back.

“Did you like watching me, Tremz?” Leo whispered against the shell of his ear making Logan shiver in his arms, the twang of his accent more prominent than normal.

“Nice hat, Nutter Butter,” Finn said with a smirk leaning forward to catch Leo’s lips in a kiss over Logan’s shoulder. Logan could feel Leo still swaying to the beat of the music his body moving with him almost involuntarily.

“Thanks baby,” he said with a grin when Finn finally pulled away. The music had shifted to something slow and Logan could feel his body relaxing further into Leos arms letting him move him with the rhythm. “Come dance with me, Lo?” he asked leaning down to press a soft kiss behind his ear.

“Oui,” he said sighing at the feel of his lips, “yeah, let’s go.”

Finn grinned watching as they made their way onto the dancefloor amongst the other swaying couples.

Leo chuckled when rather than taking his hand Logan simply wrapped both his arms around Leo’s waist letting the taller man lead them around the floor in circles. Logan sighed and buried his face against Leo’s chest. The two seemed to get lost in the movements, lost in the warmth of each other’s arms, in the lights, in the music until Leo cupped a hand against Logan’s jaw tilting his face upwards to look at him.

Logan’s breath caught at the sight of Leos eyes darker in the dim lighting only the flashing blue and pink casting them in color.

“Don't matter where we've been. No, there ain't no better view. Then you in my arms with my eyes on you. With my eyes on you.” The lyrics fell from his lip only a moment before Leo pressed them against Logan’s.

***

Leo could hear the music pouring from their apartment before he even reached the door, the floor seemed to be vibrating with the bass and in all honesty, he had no idea how someone hadn’t complained about it yet. Slipping through the door Leo kicked off his shoes and plopped the grocery bags he was carrying down on the counter, leaving them to search for the source of the loud music.

The moment he stepped into the living room Leo nearly choked on his laugh at the sight of Finn and Logan. As the music continued to spill from the speakers Logan was passionately lip-syncing into the handle of a broom while Finn was rocking air guitar a dust rag clutched in one hand, he watched as they jammed out to the loud music his face pulling into a bright grin. Somehow neither of them noticed as he slipped into the room that is until he turned the music down just a bit.

“Nutty!” Finn shouted throwing his arms open wide and wrapping him in a tight hug.

Leo kissed his cheek, “what are you guys doing,” he asked amused.

“Well, we were trying to clean,” Logan said gesturing widely with his broom, “but apparently you’ve been holding out on us. Why is your country music so catchy? And why can’t I stop listening to it?”

Leo cackled at his words, “it’s all part of my nefarious plan.”

“What nefarious plan?” Finn asked incredulously.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know,” Leo smirked.

“Plan or not,” Logan said turning the dial to turn the music back up, “this music slaps! Come dance with us Nutty!” Logan shouted with a grin holding his hands out for Leo to take.

Leo rolled his eyes but smiled and took his hand pulling Logan into a spin, Leo could Feel Finns hands on his hips as they moved to the beat. The three of them moved together limbs tangling as they stumbled around their apartment spinning and twisting to the booming music. They laughed at how absurd they must look but basked in how perfect the moment was anyway.

Leo pulled each of them in for a kiss letting his love pour into each of them through his smile and his lips. As the next song on the playlist began reverberating through their home Leo threw his head back and let the words fall from his lips, “If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, just let it be. If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, just let it be.”

Leo had every intention of simply letting life be, and if he spent the rest of it just dancing with the men currently pressed on either side of him he was pretty sure that would be as close to perfect as life would ever get.

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#sweater weather #coast to coast #leo knut #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #finn o’hara #o'knutzy #writing #country music

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ikassienatics · 4 years ago

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥 ↬ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩.

summary: half the population survived the blip and that includes peter your boyfriend, while the other half was erased from existence just like you. five years later, the snap was reversed but the world you once lived in changes

warnings: angst but not really, mj being a really cool bad bitch, life lessons from michelle jones, peter moving on, endgame spoilers? but i know you've seen the masterpiece already, mj cursing a lot like a lot.

author’s note: y’all it’s been soo long since i wrote something and this idea popped inside my mind while watching infinity war for the hundredth time, and i just can’t help myself!!!! though to warn y’all, i’m actually not that proud with the outcome of this one, it felt like something is not right, like something is missing or whatnot. and if there’s probably a fic i wrote in which i disliked, this will be it.

a handsome god trying to invade new york is bullshit, a malfunctioned artifical intelligence trying to take over the world is too much. but a purple alien named thanos erasing half the population in your planet is full of shit. the world is a crazy place indeed, you thought you guys have enough, that everything is being handled with care, for fuck’s sake earth has avengers. but turns out, even the earth’s mightiest heroes can’t stop nor survive the snap.

everything happened so fast, one second every student in your university is standing happily inside the gymnasium as they awaited the announcement about the upcoming ball, then the speaker suddenly turned into dust, she fades away like she was nothing, like a bubble, turned into ash. then everyone panicked including you, you just saw a person turned into dust before your eyes, of course you will panic

then you stood up from your seat, taking your boyfriend peter with you as you both decided to run for the exit, then it happened to everyone too. they also started turning dust

then it was your turn.

you didn't really know how it was your turn, you just sensed it that you will fade away just like them, so you did what common teenagers would do. you clung in your boyfriend once you felt the tingling sensation inside your body. it was a scary feeling, and for some reasons the numb pain started fading away, like it find some way to connect with your brain to tell it that there's nothing wrong when technically, everything is wrong. like it was convincing your mind that you don't feel anything. you have never been scared like that before

peter was by your side when that happened, holding you tightly on his arms as if he's trying to stop you from leaving. but nothing stopped the snap, no one manage to stop the blip. not even the earth's mightiest heroes.

and now you're back, sitting alone on the bench with no peter by your side, you stood up from the bench seeing mj looking at her hands weirdly, only half the students inside the gym remains and the speaker on the front, the other half? your peter? they're not here.

rushing towards the tan lady, you approach her with your hear beating faster "mj!" she look up from her hands, eyebrows furrowed and seemingly as confuse as you are

"y/n?" she stood up before you can even reach her sit "what the fuck just happened?" she look around as well, everyone started reaching for their devices, calling their family to make sure they're safe and okay, some even rush towards the exit while some started crying

"i have no idea." you pursed your lips, you and mj are never close. you always get insecure because of the tall girl, thinking that she may have a thing for peter but she always assure you that she don't date boys, she prefer girls. so standing in front of her, let alone talking to her is still awkward for you, but there's no time for that

"did you just came back as well?" she asked you, reaching for her bag and hanging it around her shoulder, you nodded your head "i was actually wondering where peter was. . ." your eyes widen, she might think you don't care about anything but peter, or maybe she will think your ignorant because even after what happened, even if there's a lot to be concern about, you still ask for your boyfriend first "i mean, everyone, i was wondering where half of the students are."

"yeah, me neither." she grabbed her phone from inside her bag, planning to text her parents just like everybody else when she suddenly caught a glimpse of the date on her lockscreen "oh shit!"

your eyes widen "what? what is it?" even though you two were never close and you felt like overstepping a line, putting your nose in her business. you can't help but get curioused because of the expression written all over her face

"what the fuck is this." she showed you her phone and there you saw a 2023 instead of 2019, your eyes also widen in realization reaching for your phone as well and seeing the same thing in your lock screen, you even saw a couple of text and calls from your parents and friends five years ago

five years ago

what the fuck

you licked your lips, about to call your mom when you heard someone speak from behind you and mj "y/n?" the voice is familiar, turning on your heels, you came in contact with a person no other than ned leeds, one of peter's friends.

mj also turn her head making ned switch his eyes from you to her "mj?" he asks, still can't believe what he's seeing. ned changes a lot even after just five minutes, he grew a beard, his hair looks so fresh from hair cut and his body is more lean than before, he looks older. weird

"ned! oh my god." you run towards him, jumping in his arms and hugging him tightly, he did the same closing his eyes in the process and praying that this is not a dream, not anymore, no. this has to be real, everyone has to come back, this has to be the reality.

"hey, man!" mj nodded her head at the man in front fo you, he still looks confuse but not as confuse as the pair "what happened here?"

his eyebrows furrowed "you don't know?" the way he said those words made your heart clench, what really is happening? and where's peter? if ned is here, then peter must be somewhere near, knowing that guy. him and ned are usually always together, even in your dates ned has to tag along, not that you mind. you enjoyed it most of the time

"what? what do you mean?" you look back at mj "we just came back, what happened? why do you look older? did you just came back as well?" you bombared him with question

he shakes his head "no, half of the population survived." your eyes widen, then if half the population survived, does that mean peter survive as well? or maye he's also part of the snap? but where is he. you look back at your seat not long ago, expecting your partner to pop our of nowhere. but there's none, no peter.

"while the other half fade away?" mj continued or more like, asked.

"y-yeah." he nodded "it's been five years." so that's why it's year 2023 and not 2019? but how, how could it happened? why? who did this? you can't help bur ask yourself

"yeah, that answers our question." the curly brunette beside you spoke, referring to what you both just witness a while ago. biting your lip, you fidget with your fingers as you find the right time to ask him a question

"what are you doing here if it's been five years?" you questioned

"i helped my cousin get enrolled, then everyone just. . . just started to come back and i think of going here to see if both of you came back as well." he answers softly

you slightly smiled at him "w-where's. . . where's peter?" you saw how ned's body froze, how almost all the blood in his face dissapeared by your question, like he's suddenly afraid of something. his happy and chill personality faded just like the snap

"p-peter? y-yeah uhm." he clears his throat, you look down on his fingers and unexpectedly saw a ring in one of them

"you're married?" both you and mj said in unison, he look down on his hands as well before nodding

"yeah, betty and i you know. we made it work, aftee graduating i decided to take our relationship in another level." his eyes sparkles with joy as he tells you the news "she's. she's actually pregnant, two months."

"congratulations." you and mj both said

"and peter, uhm. he now lives in, he no longer lives with aunt may and he also. . . he's not an avenger anymore." you saw how ned had a hard time on telling you what he knows, the ned you knew not long ago is gone, ned usually knows how to compose himself immideately and maybe that's one of the reasons why him and peter fits each other perfectly, your boyfriend is an akward person, a weird one and he always stumble upon his words, while ned is more composed and often helped him.

"wait, what?" michelle gasp

while you stayed still, confusion erupts in your mind. how did it happened? why did peter left the avengers? he always love helping people, finding comfort in swinging around queens and fighting for those who cannot fight, and being an avenger? it's his dream, so why would he turn his back on a life he always wanted to have?

at this moment, you felt like you never knew peter anymore, or ned, he changes so much and you wish peter is still the same after five years even though you know it's impossible, many things can happen in those years, many things can change.

"yeah, after. you know, he got anxiety after the blip, he really had a hard time with keeping up so, uhm. yeah."

"wait, i don't understand a single thing." mj speak once again, trying to make the situation clear

you saw how ned gulped, as if he's about to spill the biggest tea there is "he just, shit happens. you know? and people change, how they see life, their perspective and peter. well, peter. he, he change. he's grown up now."

"like, how grown up?" did he move on?

"i can't tell you that, i'm sorry but he lives in." then he started tellng you the adress which you gladly wrote down on your phone with shaking fingers, imagining how peter would seeing you after five years, would he be happy, sad? or maybe he moved on?

god you don't want to think about it, peter moving on from his relationship with you? can that really happen? can peter really do that to you? no, no. peter won't do that, maybe ned is right. he changed but he's still peter, you refuse to believe that peter forgot about you, that he replaced you after being a part of the blip, because if tables have turned? if peter is the one who has been snapped and you're the one who survived? you don't think you can forget him or move on.

the trio was about to continue keeping up, but ned's phone started to ring and you saw a picture of a woman on the screen "sorry, wife calling." he turn his back on you quickly answering the phone while you and mj just nodded your head, giving him a chance to answer the line

"i always knew peter is a freak." she whispered beside you, trying to make the mood better as she started to see the doubt in your eyes "but a grown man? come on, just because he grow up and finally became a man doesn't mean he has to forget stuffs, you know?"

you slightly smile at her, nodding your head in agreement "you're right."

"anyways, i got to call my dad. you call your family too, they must be worried and confused. all this shit is probably all overt the news by now."

***

two days passed after you came back from the blip, everything you thought you knew? gone. it's like you never existed in the first place and you had a hard time keeping up, keeping up with the world you once knew. your parents on the other hand, they are more understanding than ever, letting you stay lock up in your room so you can think but occasionally asking you if you want to go on a family vacation but you told them you have to fix yourself first. your parents reaction when you came back is priceless especially your mom, she almost didn't want to let you go after embracing you if it weren't for your dad and you saw the longing in their eyes.

of course, their only daughter went missing five years ago then came back as if nothing happened.

you tried to read as many newspaper as you could, news from the last five years, trying to blend in once again. you felt sick thinking about the new society you are now stepping on. but even after those things, you have mj with you and you two became close, facetime here, facetime there. helping each other stood back up from their feet.

two days later, that's when you decided to visit peter, two days of dreaming about the guy, imagining what his reaction would be if you showed up in his door step, and a part of you wished you didn't came back after what you saw, after what you learned.

the house that ned told you was huge, it's white and there's a mailbox standing outside with a name 'parker' in it, it's more like a family house, a car on the garage and a small bike right beside it, a small bike? why does peter have a small bike on his house?

and if you weren't that stupid, you're going to be able to put the pieces together, the bike, the house, the mailbox, ned seeming like he's nervous about something. it all made sense especially when you knock on the door and it was opened by the one and only liz allen. the small bump on her stomach also didn't go unnoticable by you, and the small boy running around from the inside looking like you're boyfriend? yeah, fuck. you get it. he moved on, what else can you do?

nonetheless, she invited you in and you could have said no, but you didn't. there's a lot of question you want to ask peter, why? and how? but you're not going to blame him because of the decision he made. you fully understand it, that maybe his feelings for liz didn't really fade away just like he told you when you two started dating, or maybe he forgot about you. five years is a long road

and that's how you saw yourself inside the kitchen with peter sitting in front of you, the house smelled like home, like love, like family. his family, her family. liz was upstairs trying to give the both of you a time to talk while their son went out to play with some kids outside.

"you're married?" you asked, although it's obvious. you still want it to come out from his mouth. your voice came out like a whisper but you know he heard it, he only nodded his head in response, not knowing what else to say.

"you left me for her." you said once again

and that's when he spoke back "i didn't left you, you left me." his voice is deeper than before, more manly and he didn't stumble upon his words just like before, he looks like be know exactly what he's doing, what he's saying.

he's not the peter you once knew anymore, just like everybody else.

"are you blaming me for what happened?" you whispered shouted, not wanting liz to hear your conversation even though you know that peter will tell her later once you got out

"i'm not blaming anything on you, i'm just trying to explain that i'm not the one who fades away to dust, who left me with nothing for five years. what do you expect me to do?"

"i expect you to wait for me, i came back didn't i?" you saw how your vision started to get blurry, telling you that any time soon a tears will fell from your eyes.

"i waited for you but i lose hope."

"how could you do this to me?" and that's when a single tear drop from your eyes, then another. but you didn't do anything to stop it

"how could i? can you put yourself in my position for once? i was left with nothing for the past five years! i have nothing, tony was a part of the snap, may and i fell apart because all this shit! and liz? she's just, she's there with me. she stood by my side during those times and neither of us can't help it." and if your heart broke after finding out that peter moved on, now it's being shredded to pieces especially after what he just told you

"you find comfort in another woman."

"don't pretend like you will do this differently if i were the one who got snapped." you drop your palms on the table causing it to make a loud thump

"don't you there turn the tables, because if i were the one who survived and you're the one who does not. i will still wait for you no matter how fucked up everything is." you said angrily "did you ever loved me? or did you just used me to get over her? to make her jealous?"

"don't fucking change the subject." that's the first time he ever cursed in front of you, in those eight months of you two dating, no matter the situation, he never cursed or yell at you. yeah you fight often times but it didn't come this far, no yelling, no cursing, just a calm fight.

you wanted to be selfish, to steal peter away from liz just like how she teal him away from you. but you couldn't, you can't even think about it. you don't want to be the person, the woman who stole their dad away from them, you don't want their child to grew up without a dad, to grew up longing for a father.

"look, i know it's hard but believe me or not. i loved you." he said softly this time "but i have a family now, a family to take care of, a children to look after and none of this can bring back the past, none of this can bring both of us together just like before. you have to understand the situation that none of this is inevitable, maybe we're not meant for each other, maybe this is meant to happened, what matters right now is you're back and i have the family i always wanted, maybe not with you. but i'm happy now."

he held your hands from the table, soothing it gently to calm you down "i loved you, and i still do until now but not as much as i love her."

"you don't know how many men will kill just to be with you, you deserve beter and i wish you all the happiness in this world." he added, you look down on his hands, biting your shaking lips as you refuse to believe everything he told you

everything is just too much, it happened so fast. that your brain could not even keep up, but you have to accept the truth, the truth that the both of you are no longer the couple you were used to be. that he moved on and you must do the same

***

you lay down, facing the ceiling before sighing. even after two weeks, fourteen days, even after all those minutes passed you can't seem to get used to the world you were in right now. you're starting to drift away from your parents, not liking to go out and instead you prefer to self isolate yourself inside your room. but no one can blame you for your actions, it's hard. keeping up with everything, it's hard facing complicated things like this especially because peter is not by your side unlike before.

and for once, you just wanted to. . . you just want everything to stop for a while. everything, just. just to give you time to understand

if only it weren't for the snap, or what everyone prefer to call that 'thing'. if it weren't for that, then maybe you already graduated by now, maybe you're the one who's married with peter instead of liz. maybe

"i thought that if i acted like it didn't matter. it wouldn't." you said, eyes still focused on the ceiling as you tried to think about everything that had happened in the past ever since you came back from the ash

mj, who's quietly reading a book on the sofa inside your room decided to join you in your comfy bed, laying beside you and facing the white and boring ceiling as well. unlike you, mj asked for help. she started seeing a therapist to help her get better and to guide her in this journey where she's trying to fit in once again.

but you? you prefer to be alone no matter how many times your parents tried to talk to you or asked you if you need help, even if they kept their arms open for you, even if every person who survived the snap kept their arms wide open for those who didn't. you can't bring yourself to do it, to ask for help like mj. unlike you, mj handled all the problems like a champion, you never see any discomfort in her eyes ever since you came back. yeah maybe the first day, you saw how scared she was but now? she's getting better while you felt like you're getting worse.

you drift away from your parents, never answered or check your phone, you completely shut down peter and liz no matter how many times they tried to invite you like when their son celebrated his birth day. but you see yourself getting closer to mj

which is. weird

you never see it coming,

you never see any of this coming.

"it's okay not to be okay, you know?" she mumbled from beside you. closing her book and fixing her eyeglasses

"shit happens, we get sad, stress, depress, you name it. and that's okay, that's normal. everybody felt that too." she added

from the ceiling, you turn your body to face her before asking her a question "how did you do it?" she seemed taken a back but manages to compose herself right away

putting her other hands behind her head, she licked her lips before answering your question "how did i do it? i didn't do no such thing." it was a whisper, but because of the silence evaporating inside your room you manage to hear every letter that came out of her mouth

"i was scared, afraid after all this shit you know? and it made me think that feeling those things, that self isolating myself or being sad or what the fuck will not make anything better." she told you "like, if i cry in my room because i felt left out, will that make anything better? no right? if i stay in my room and get so emotional, will that bring back the past? will the pain bring back everything? no, that's why instead of being like the others, instead of following what i feel, instead of letting my fear take over. i just told them to fuck off, i go out, tried understanding the world more, have fun, be with my loved ones, forget the fact that i became an ash. because no matter how sad you feel, or how depress you've become. the world will not stop spinning for you, and because of that. might as well as spin with the world, you know what i'm saying?"

from her laying position, mj sat up completely facing you and holding your hand in hers "i know you're having a hard time, we all are. but don't forget that you're not alone in this. you don't have to be, you don't have to face all this shit alone because i'm here for you, your parents, your friends, peter. maybe not in the way you want him to be, but all of us will be here for you." she said sincerely

"i know it's tough, and it's probably much more harder in your case because of peter. but things aren't always going to be there, you know? nothing is permanent. i can't be sitting here with you forever because i have to go home or else my dad will probably burst out." you laughed at her humor "but i'm serious, sometimes everything is not meant to be that way. and i think that's what makes life special, nothing is permanent, because of that life teaches us how to cherish every moment."

"avengers fought with their dying breath just to give us a second chance, and i'm glad they did. we were all given a second chance to live in this world and i don't want to waste that."

that's when you realized how lucky you are, she's right. you were given a second chance, a second chance to live, to be happy. avengers bled for this, for all of you to return. you should live your life to the fullest, and that's what you're about to do

peter is one of the best things that ever happened to you, maybe he's not with you until the end but at least you manage to be with him and to feel the love from spiderman in the past.

maybe in some other life, in a distant universe, in an unknown world, in a small city, you and peter have your little love story going on, and you both are living there your happily ever after.

disclaimer: all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. the original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. the author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #marvel

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lemonpeter · 3 years ago

Text

STARKER: by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 10: Doppelgänger

A/N: hello and welcome back to this clusterfuck of a fic! i, bloo, sincerely apologize for the delay in the posting of this chapter. real life took over for a bit, i started coming out of my winter depression session and feeling better led to me doing more things irl, and thus fandom took a seat on the back burner for a couple of hot secs.

bri has been SO patient with me and she is the best and the sweetest for dealing with my ADD ass. <3 we love bri.

ANYWHO-

we also love y’all, and appreciate you so much! hopefully updates will become more regular again.

thanks for sticking with us, bloo and bri <3

(Bri here: real life has been wild for both of us lol bloo is wonderful 💕 also it feels like I’m gushing about myself since I’m the one posting but I promise that note was copied from what bloo wrote on the doc-)

Warnings: Peter is Not Okay, angst, whump, g*n mention, wound mention, guilt, victim blaming, g*slighting (lemme know if I need to add)

Masterlist ao3

***

“Did Tony just get- shot?” Ned asked incredulously, eyes wide with disbelief. ��Peter shot him?”

“I mean...yes? I think? But wait, look- Peter’s acting like he doesn’t know what’s going on. Did he not do that?” Paige rushed the words out, gazing intently at the screen for a moment. Then she turned and looked first at Ned, then at the other agents in the room. “We didn’t do that, did we?” When everyone hurriedly shook their heads with wide eyes, the teen included, she sighed and took off her glasses to run her hands down her face. “So he’s shooting people now?”

Another heavy sigh sounded from a few feet away. Fury closed his eye, taking a deep breath before cutting his gaze to an agent who was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he stared at the monitor. “Grayson.” The man stood up straight, blinking with a sheepish expression on his face and he looked over at the director. “Contact May Parker. Now.”

The agent frowned and hesitated before ultimately deciding to speak up. “But… Sir, didn’t she ask that we not-”

Fury was quick to interrupt, his tone biting. “I’m sure she would like to be notified that her nephew has turned homicidal,” the bald man spat, rolling his eye in irritation. “Now like I said- contact May Parker and let her know that there have been some…developments.”

Even if it wasn’t intentional, the violence was still Peter’s doing. Which didn’t seem like a good sign.

He let out a heavy breath. “Tell her that a car will be outside her apartment waiting for her within the next two hours.”

The already tense atmosphere of the room only grew as Fury never looked away from the man, keeping their gazes locked as he dared the agent to question his authority for a second time.

“Of course, Director Fury.” Eyes on the ground, Grayson quickly turned and walked through the doorway, the other occupants turning back to their tasks.

Everyone’s eyes were trained on the screens as they watched Peter all but drag Tony into the penthouse from the elevator. The older man didn’t look good in any sense of the word, not even close. He was pale, sweaty, with rattled breathing and an ever-growing bloodstain covering his chest. And Peter’s panic was clearly visible on his face.

After a few moments, Ned spoke up, discomfort lacing his tone. “I- Someone please tell me he’s not about to do what I think he is…”

“Holy shit,” Paige breathed. Her hand placed itself over her mouth that was dropped open.

Noises of shock echoed throughout the space, and Ned averted his eyes, swallowing with difficulty.

Agent Hill spoke up for the first time since the scene had unravelled. “I don’t think Peter’s controlling this thing, not anymore.”

Fury turned to look at her, gaze narrowed. “What do you mean? The illusion is obviously running, and I’m assuming that means the glasses are receiving input from him. Right Leeds?”

Ned, still unable to keep his eyes on the monitors, nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Th-That’s correct.”

It was Hill’s turn to nod, then. “Yes, that’s true, but not what I meant. I don’t think he is consciously influencing the illusions anymore. Or at least not completely.”

Paige hummed softly, head hanging as she leaned down over one of the desks. The dark ringlets of her hair fell around her like a curtain, obscuring her face. “I agree. He seems to still be in control of some aspects, like location. And he was able to, uh, place the sutures. Successfully stopping Mr. Stark from bleeding out. But he wasn’t able to heal him indirectly, even though he obviously tried.”

“What...but then how? Why are things happening if Peter isn’t the one doing the um, influencing?” Ned turned back to the screens, specifically the one full of lines and lines of green characters. He wasn’t ready to look at the others yet. “I’m constantly checking the logs and the security, there have been no breaches. Um. Other than us, that is.” He looked back up, waiting for a response from one of the others, eyes searching Paige’s hopefully, but none came.

No one had an answer to that question.

***

Tony may have been the one who got shot, but there was a hole in the middle of Peter’s chest, too. Raw, tender, cavernous...aching with every single breath that he took.

And he couldn’t close it up, like he had done Tony’s, because the piece of him that was meant to be there was just...gone.

Missing.

And he had no idea how to get it back.

Something was glaringly and obviously wrong, but Peter didn’t know what exactly it was, or what he was supposed to do. Despite having tried his hardest to fix things, nothing was getting better. It was all just...getting worse. (He was getting worse-)

He knew that something was missing. It felt like a huge part of him had been ripped from his life, leaving a gaping void that couldn’t be filled.

And things were only getting worse, still.

Especially between him and Tony.

Peter had thought that things were okay as Tony recovered from his...injury. Not perfect, but okay. Good. Improving. Sure, his husband had been quiet and subdued for the past few days. But he thought that was reasonable and to be expected, the man was in pain. (He was in pain, too, though. Tony didn’t seem to notice. Or care.)

But even now that the older man was mostly healed, there was still a strange tension between them. Distance.

And Peter had no fucking idea what to do about it. Because Tony refused to tell him what was wrong.

Deep down, Peter knew. He knew that everything was wrong, that the whole situation was wrong, that there was no part of their world that was even remotely okay. But if he acknowledged that fact, what was the point? Of any of it? What did he have then, without this, without Tony? Absolutely nothing. So he just wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He’d tried everything he could think of. He’d been attentive to Tony’s every need during his recovery, keeping him supplied with food and water, providing entertainment in the form of working together on various projects and watching TV or reading together, never letting the man out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

He’d even tried to initiate sex, once it seemed Tony was feeling better, so that they could be close to each other in such an intimate way in hopes that it woud fix things. Nothing too strenuous on his husband’s part, of course. Peter had simply wanted to make the older man feel good, bring him some pleasure and show him just how much he meant to his lover.

And Tony had turned him down each time, always pushing him away softly with that clouded, far away look in his eyes. The one that had been there ever since he’d brought up his feelings about what had happened with May.

Now that the older man was better, now that he was healed and had more energy and things could possibly go better, Peter was still too scared to try. He didn’t want to be rejected again. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

He didn’t understand Tony’s refusal in the first place. This world was supposed to be whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was for his husband to want him again, for his husband to love him, touch him, smile at him the way that he used to. And that obviously was not what was happening.

Why did it feel like Tony had more control over things than he did? Sure, the teen intended for his partner to have some semblance of autonomy, in that he could take care of himself and his basic needs, but Peter consciously gave him that autonomy. But now…

Now it seemed like Tony was able to actually think for himself on some level, which would explain why he was able to remember the incident with May despite Peter’s best attempts, and why he seemed hesitant to bring it up to Peter.

And he could see it in Tony’s eyes, the way he didn’t quite know what to make of what little information he did have.

Peter didn’t want to add to the confusion, or cause any more frustration. He didn’t want to stress Tony out.

But he couldn’t tell him the truth, either.

There was nothing he could do.

***

Peter gazed into the bathroom, hands gripping the door frame as he watched Tony.

The older man was standing under the spray of the shower. His hand gingerly rubbed at his chest with a washcloth, head back and eyes closed so as to not look at the mottled knot of scar tissue there.

Peter wanted so badly to join him, his husband, to stand there wrapped in his arms and surrounded by the warmth of the water.

But Tony didn’t want him.

Not anymore.

The two of them were merely coexisting at this point. It was like they weren’t married anymore, not really, like they had slipped back into that painful distance from before, when Tony was still Mr. Stark and Peter was just that fucking kid.

Tony hadn’t touched him since the accident.

“That’s a pretty nasty scar he’s got there, huh? I know you tried to stitch him up but damn. No awards for your suture technique, that’s for sure.”

Peter turned around so fast that he was sure he nearly snapped his neck. That was- That was his voice.

But he knew he hadn’t said anything.

Craning his neck and peering around the large bedroom with wide eyes, Peter held his breath as he listened intently. The sounds of Tony showering could be heard from the open bathroom door. He couldn’t hear anything else, but he could have sworn... “H-hello?” The teen kept turning his head, eyes wide as he looked for any sign of someone else in the room with him.

“Up here.”

And up there he was. Crouched on the ceiling, a position Peter frequently found himself in, was... well, Peter. Another Peter.

He was smirking, something sinister and unsettling glinting in his dark eyes as he gazed down upon his counterpart. “For someone with a sixth sense, it’s really sad that I had to give myself away for you to notice me. So much for that Peter-tingle. You really are losing it, Spider-Boy. Pathetic.” His grin only grew as the words left his mouth.

Peter gaped up at him, heart pounding. What the fuck was going on? He blinked a few times as he tried to take control of the illusion, alter whatever was happening. It wasn’t working. Just like when Tony had been shot. “Who are-“

The other Peter was quick to cut off his questioning. His eyes flashed. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You know exactly who I am.” The double dropped from the ceiling, standing right across from Peter.

It was like looking into a mirror. The doppelgänger was a spitting image of Peter, save for the dark look in his eyes and the cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I-I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, soft yet frantic. He was still desperately trying to influence the situation, hands shaking as he clenched them at his sides.”

Not-Peter shook his head in return, laughing as he copied the action. But the sound was cold and harsh, no joy in it at all. “I’m you, you fucking coward. It’s as simple as that. All of this is you! Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on.”

Peter didn’t want to believe it. This…fake him was cruel. He could never be like that. He never wanted to be anything like that.

The doppelganger scoffed. “You’re no fucking saint, Peter, no matter how much you’d like to convince Tony that you are. He’s catching on, isn’t he? Starting to realize that things aren’t as perfect as you’ve been making them out to be?”

“That’s n-not true,” Peter stuttered as he tried to control his breathing. “You don’t know anything about Tony. Don’t bring him into this-”

“How are things with Tony, by the way?” The doppelganger’s lip curled up at the pained expression that took over Peter’s face. “Ohhh, that bad huh? I can’t say I’m surprised…” He let himself trail off. “It really is sad, you know, Peter? Call me redundant but I feel it needs to be said again, so bare with me. You’re pathetic.”

“Stop,” Peter ground out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes were clenched shut, but when he heard the other move, his lids flew open instinctively. “You aren’t- You aren’t real.”

A harsh bark of a laugh seemed to echo throughout the room. “I’m as real as anyone you’ve been interacting with these days.”

“That’s not true,” Peter said softly, denying what he knew deep down was, in fact, the truth.

Not-Peter scoffed, taking a step towards his double. He shook his head softly in admonishment. “You really are pathetic.” He’d made it more than obvious how much joy the word brought him, with the way it all but oozed from his lips. “Like I was saying, this whole thing is tragic, it really is, Peter. You know that there is no way that Tony Stark could have ever wanted you, in any sense of the word. Definitely not like this, this weird relationship you’ve conjured up as a byproduct of your unaddressed daddy issues. That’s why you ran away, like the little fucking coward that you are. You ran, so that you could hide out and construct this sick little fantasy world of yours.

“And how’s that working out for you…kid? It’ll tell you: you shot your husband because he was starting to question you, and of course you couldn’t have that. How dare Tony be anything other than the obedient little puppet you want him to be.”

“That’s not true,” Peter choked out, chest constricting. “I- I didn’t do that, it wasn’t me! I tried- I tried to stop it, I tried to undo it but it wouldn’t work so I had to- I had to f-fix him-”

The double cut him off again, as if he had never spoken at all. “I guess you’re right in that sense, so I’ll give you that. I know it wasn’t you. Because it was me.” He paused, hand moving up to his chin as he pretended to think, waxing philosophical. “But then again, I am you, so-”

“You aren’t me,” Peter argued one last time, knowing it wasn’t true. His voice was weak because he knew the truth. Even if he didn’t want to believe it, refused to believe it. “And I would never hurt Tony.”

“No? Not even after he abandoned you?” The fake Peter was taunting him, voice dripping with condescension. “Because you were having some pretty contradictory thoughts that are leading me to believe otherwise. Remember how angry you were?”

Of course he remembered. The teen had been so hurt and betrayed and he knew it was irrational. But Peter was certain that he wouldn’t- he would never actually hurt Tony. He couldn’t.

But how else did he get shot, if Peter was the one in control?

“Stop it,” Peter snapped, voice full of vitriol. Then he instantly recoiled, stomach sinking. That wasn’t him. The angry, frustrated feelings that he kept having weren’t him. They couldn’t be. He couldn’t act like that, that’s how he got here in the first place, it was everything he was trying to fix.

It was how Tony had gotten hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t been holding the gun, but he’d been the one that caused it to happen.

Peter became aware that the sounds of the shower had stopped when he finally shifted his focus away from the double and back to his husband. Partner. Whoever they were now. He heard footsteps approaching and didn’t have enough time to try and make the doppelgänger disappear.

“Pete?” Tony asked softly, rubbing his hair dry with the towel in his hands. Another was wrapped around his waist, leaving his chest bare. (Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the scar.) “Were you just...waiting out here for me?”

His eyes were on the double, unaware that it wasn’t actually Peter, not catching on to the fact that there were two of them yet.

“Of course I was,” not-Peter said, eyes blown wide as he attempted to look innocent, to look like Peter. “It’s not like there’s anything else I could be doing.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” When he had first emerged from the bathroom, his tone had been light, more so than it had been since his injury. It had sparked something hopeful inside Peter, and now his heart ached to hear the rough, distrustful edge come back.

“Oh, I mean,” the doppelganger continued with his act, though Peter could see the mirth shining in his eyes. “I just meant that, y’know, there’s nothing else I would rather be doing. Otherwise I would be doing it, since I am control-”

Peter was across the room before he was conscious of the movement, backing the interloper up against the wall and pressing his forearm up to his throat. “Shut the fuck up,” the teen growled desperately, voice breaking. “You ruined everything-”

The double struggled in Peter’s hold, face turning slightly red. His voice was raspy and choked off when he spoke. His nails dug into the skin of Peter’s arm. “Which means you ruined it yourself, you fucking coward! Go ahead, tell him. Tell Tony-”

“Peter? Tell me what? Who is- Peter, what the hell is going on?”

“Shut up!” Peter’s fist jerked back before it flew forward, connecting with the nose of the body in front of him. He heard Tony gasp and call out his name, but he ignored the man in favor of swinging his arm forward again. “I hate you! Why won’t you go away? I hate you!”

Despite the blood pouring out of his nose and rolling in crimson rivulets down his face, not-Peter grinned, the red smearing in sharp contrast on the white of his teeth. “We all knew you hated yourself, Peter, that’s not news.”

When Peter moved like he was going to strike again, Tony decided to actually intervene, even though he still had no idea what was going on. “Hey, Peter- Peter, baby, come here, let him go. This isn’t you baby-”

The teen let out a panicked gasp, melting into the other man’s embrace. “But it is,” he cried, brokenly. “It is me Tony, I-”

Tony hushed him, holding Peter close. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he needed to try and keep Peter calm. And from fighting the other one. “I know this isn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he said softly. Although he wasn’t sure he believed himself. He was so lost with everything going on, he didn’t know what to believe.

The other Peter just stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You don’t even know, Tony.” The name was said like an insult. “You don’t get any of this, do you?”

“Shut up,” Peter whispered, all the fight leaving his body as he was held. “Just stop. You need to go away.” Why couldn’t he just make the imposter disappear? He was in control.

At least, he was supposed to be.

A grotesquely sinister expression took over the doppelganger’s face. His eyes were bright, burning, as his gaze locked with Peter’s.

The expression set the teen’s already frayed nerves on edge. He froze in Tony’s arms, heart pounding. Why was he looking at him like that? And why was that look so familiar? Where had he seen-

“It’s pretty easy to fool people when they’re already fooling themselves, Peter.”

The reaction was almost instantaneous.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter muttered to himself, voice shaking. His hands moved to his head, pulling at his hair, and when he opened his eyes for a moment, it wasn’t his own face staring back at him.

It was Beck.

“You’re not real,” he whispered, choking on his breath. “Y-you’re not-”

“Peter, baby, you’ve gotta calm-”

“N-not real-”

***

“Peter, sweetie, could you take the rolls out of the oven?”

“Sure thing, mama.” He opened his eyes, glancing back before going to do as she said. That was better.

“And where’s that husband of yours, he’s joining us for dinner, right?”

Peter bit his lip. He hadn’t even noticed that Tony wasn’t there. “He should be back soon, just had to step out for work.” There, that sounded convincing enough.

“Such a hard worker, that Tony,” May chirped, a grin pulling at her lips as she sliced tomatoes for the salad. “You really lucked out, Petey.”

It was a sweet thing to say. It was exactly what he thought about Tony. But it sure as hell wasn’t anything that May would say. However, Peter just let the genuine affection in her tone relax him, letting out a soft sigh. “I really did, Aunt May. I really did.” He smiled at her and then to himself as he got the rolls from the oven and set the pan on the counter.

Ben snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “Stark’s the lucky one, May-Flower. Pete’s quite the catch. Takes after ‘is uncle.” At Richard’s eye roll, he laughed again. The sound filled Peter’s chest with a fuzzy warmth. “Fine. And his father. Parker men ain’t nothing to mess with.”

“Uh huh, right.” May laughed. “I agree with you on one thing, though. Parker men are definitely something else, that’s for sure,” she teased.

Peter laughed along with them, but it was all beginning to feel uncomfortable on some level. He felt just as empty as he knew the rest of his guests were.

His doppelgänger’s words kept racing through his mind. Beck’s words. (“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would-“)

But he pushed them away, steeling himself and blinking blearily for a few seconds. His gaze locked on the food spread out over the counter. None of that mattered.

He was at dinner with his family. They were all there, happy and healthy. Together, the way it should be. There was nothing that he needed to be worried about.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #B&B write #SbPBP #Peter’s EDITH!verse #starker angst #ironspider #tw gaslighting #tw victim blaming #tw gun mention

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