#things feel sus lately and I don’t like it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tetzoro · 1 year ago

Text

HELP ME HELP YOU — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. dick grayson !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : poison ivy has been flying under the radar and weaponizing her pollen to fellow criminals. it’s a shame you and dick find out the hard way.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. dub-con bc of sex pollen (they’ve both been pining for each other tho), dry humping, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving, 69, face sitting), cum eating, multiple orgasms, missionary, mating press, cowgirl, pet names (baby, pretty), praise, creampies, mentions of breeding, light impact play (slaps your thigh once), begging, mentions of sweat and saliva, slight overstimulation, almost pure smut tbh it’s just filth — WC : 6.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags !! i’ve been wanting to write a sex pollen fic for so long i’m so excited i finally did it ! enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

another drizzly night in gotham, filled with blaring police sirens and a heavy dose of crime. patrol was going as planned for the most part. apprehending a few criminals here and there, but nothing major. to dick, it was a semi-quiet night. one that left him reflecting on his life or rather, his recent choices.

truth be told, he had missed gotham. even though it wasn’t in a much better state when he had left, a large part of him knew he belonged here. bludhaven had been a good experience for him to try and break away, start his own thing. but when it came down to it, he missed it here. missed the people here, some more than others.

dick eventually got a tip from tim, stating that there were a couple of criminals causing a scene a few blocks down the road. he made it there quickly, only to run into you.

normally, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you out on patrol at the same time as him, but lately, it’s been harder to be around you. he knew he was developing feelings for you, no, he already had feelings for you. but it was all so confusing. the two of you had been friends for so long, since you were teenagers.

but then he left and you stayed. even though he’s been back for about a month, it still feels like he doesnt get to see enough of you. and when he’s finally around you, he just doesn’t know how to act anymore.

“and here i thought you’d never show up, nightwing.” you tease, getting ready to apprehend the criminals that were trying to make their next move. he easily side stepped to get into a closer range to them, ready to bring them down with you. but truthfully, a large part of his focus wasn’t on them at all.

“you know i can never resist.” he smirks. the two of you start fighting off the criminals, landing quick, steady punches.

“resist showing off, you mean.” you scoff, swinging your fist around, lodging it in one of the criminals' sides.

“ouch,” dick takes out one of his batons, twirling it around in his hand before using it against one of the enemies. “and here i was going to help you out of the goodness of my heart, my mistake.”

the two of you move in sync, your fighting styles mimicking each other as you attempt to take down the criminals. even though it’s been awhile, the two of you mesh well together just like old times.

“why don’t you sit back and watch how it’s done, boy wonder.” you drop down, palm hitting the pavement as you dodge an incoming attack. you use the momentum to sweep your feet under the apprehender, knocking him on his back.

“i must’ve struck a nerve for you to use that nickname on me.” he smirked, trying to see how far he can crawl under your skin. the criminals were still trying to fight you both, but it was a cakewalk for him. he’d rather just stand around and tease you all night if he could.

“you’re always on my nerves.” you huff, pushing a villain off of you, watching them hobble backwards before you ready for another attack.

“gotta get your attention somehow, don’t i?” he hit one of the criminals in the gut, trying to swiftly take him down.

before you can retort, you hear something clink to the floor near dick before gas starts to surround it. you both pause, attention shifting on the strange device. the criminals use the momentary lapse to their advantage.

“that’ll keep them busy for awhile.” one of the criminals snicker as they make their escape. you take a step towards them but dick holds you back, his hand gripping onto you.

something felt like it was crawling up his spine, a heat that grew more the longer he touched you.

“what are you doing?” you question him, ripping your arm from his hold. but then he realized, not touching you sent spikes of pain throughout his body, yearning for some sort of relief that he didn’t know how to get.

he tries to shake it off to focus on the task at hand, pressing against his ear piece, trying to contact tim.

“nightwing.” tim greets as he presses the button. dick crouches down to look at the device the criminals threw, your eyes tracking his movements with curiosity. “report?”

“looks like the criminals threw a toxin at us, i’m not sure what it is but it let out a puff of gas when it hit the ground. judging by the design of it i’d say,” dick pauses, eyes widening as he flips it over in the palm of his hand. a small, green plant painted onto the side of the device. “ivy.”

“alright, report back to the batcave. there’s been rumors that she’s been weaponizing her special pollen so we will have an antidote ready. did anyone else get hit? or are you alone?” tim replies, typing away on his keyboard.

dick looks over at you, holding your gaze for a moment. his mouth feels dry, words lodged in his throat as his body shivers. he tells tim he’s with you.

“dick, whatever you do, do not give into any urges, okay? christ, i didn’t know she’d be out on patrol too, she wasn’t even scheduled.” the frustration in his voice is tinged with anxiety and panic, knowing fully well the extent of getting hit by ivy’s pollen. “both of you get back here immediately. signing off.”

“affirmative.” dick nods, letting tim break the line for now. his eyes hadn’t left yours and he watched as you back up towards the wall behind you. he mirrors your movements, his thoughts growing hazier by the second. his more primal urges start to fight logic, a new battle unfolding in his mind.

he holds onto the wall, planting his back firmly against it as his hands form a fist. the sensation is back again, prickling under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch. it’s driving him mad, sweat starting to coat his body. everything was hot, searing. any self control he had was quickly slipping through his fingers, his heart racing out of his chest.

even looking at you seems to make it worse, so he keeps his head against the wall, looking up at the dark sky as he tries to find the strength to move. he needs a plan, something to grasp and ground him to reality before he throws caution to the wind and takes you right here in this alleyway.

so he decides he just… won’t give in. that’s it, he’ll stay on this side of the wall while you stay on the other and then you go back to the cave and get the antidote. perfect.

“dickie.” or well, it would’ve been. his attention reluctantly goes over to you as you use his nickname, eyes burning trying to keep them on your face. but the way your voice sounded, the lilt of desperation packed into it had him curious. his eyes trail down your body, watching the way your chest heaves up and down, your thighs clenching together.

“yeah?” he swallows, eyes averting to the ground, his fingers curling deeper into his fist until he’s sure his nails are about to break the skin.

“it hurts.” you all but whimper and his resolve cracks in half. it was always his dream to be your hero, to be someone you look up to and respect. being your knight in shining armor and eventually wooing you over one day. with the way your voice sounded, he needed to save you, do anything to make you feel better. seeing you in pain like this clawed at his heart, leaving his chest wide open. “please, i don’t know what to do.”

he’s never seen you look so helpless. you’ve always had an air of confidence about you whenever you put on your suit. you took being a hero seriously, one of the many things he admired about you. but this? he’s never seen you like this. and it stirred something within him.

he swallows thickly, trying to grab control of his thoughts once again, gripping onto logic even though the pollen was directly challenging it. one by one, another decent thought slips out of his hold and is instantly replaced with one that was much more improper. the kind of thoughts he’s tried his best to repress, especially when it comes to you.

“i know.” he says, tim’s word of caution fleeting from his mind. pressing himself off against the wall, he bounds over to you, finding himself directly in front of you, his palm pressed against the wall by your head. you gasp and it takes every last bit of him to not devour your sweet sounds. “fuck, we have to get back to the cave.”

your eyes flutter shut as his words breathe across your face, the raspy tone from his voice luring you in.

“please.” you say again, the words barely above a whisper.

the rubber band snaps and the tension breaks, your bodies surging towards each other, clicking into place as your lips finally collide. the pollen saturating every nerve in your body, an overwhelming tsunami threatening to consume you and take him down with you.

but he wasn’t faring any better. his hands were shaking with need, his movements clumsy, not because they weren’t practiced, but because he had never needed anything more in his life.

he kisses you with a bruising force he usually reserves for when he fights, unable to hold himself back as the pollen dances throughout his veins chanting more, more, more.

visions invade his mind, betraying all the walls he’s so carefully put in place over the years. the amount of times he’s dreamed of having you, the amount of times he’s fisted his cock to the thought of you, was all coming to a burning point. if he didn’t have you now, it felt like his body would disintegrate.

a groan rips from his throat, rumbling against your lips as he tries to devour you. his hands roam all over your body, almost kneading against every part of you to get a proper feel. but it wasn’t enough.

“have to feel you, please- need you closer.” he manages to choke out, his plump lips swollen with your passion, his dark blue eyes blown all the way out into a dark, stormy abyss. with a small nod of your head, he’s pushing you against the wall, slipping his thigh between your legs. he grinds against your hips, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide you some.

the kiss is hardly graceful — teeth clashing against each other, trying to consume the other. there’s no fight for dominance, no careful hesitance, just pure unabridged desperation. he feels you reach for your mask, already trying to take off anything that serves as a barrier between you and him.

“f-fuck, wait, keep your mask on. we can’t-“ he didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. somehow the gravity of the situation rings in his head for a moment. “shit, wait, we should talk about this, right?”

“we’re just helping each other out,” you gasp, kissing along his jaw. your fingers dig into his biceps, voice straining as you try to keep yourself together for a moment. “it hurts so much, i can’t stand it. help me and i’ll help you.”

“can’t say no to that logic.” he picks you up, pressing you against the wall as he presses his aching cock to your core. the relief it brought had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, gripping onto you tighter as his body reacts in a way it’s never done before.

he grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other. he wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

and you’re just as bad as him, bucking your hips against him to gain any sort of friction, your hands pawing all over his body.

“please-“ you whine in his ear, “stop teasing me, let me feel you.” your body felt on fire, something crackling just beneath the surface. the friction you were getting wasn’t enough, giving you pleasure but you also craved more.

“c-can’t.” he gasps, moving his hips faster as he feels a high coming on. “m’close.”

it was all building up deep within him, pleasure fighting pain and hurtling him towards the unknown. but he knew it would help, god, he knew anything with you would save him somehow.

his aching cock was still pressed up against the tight suit he had on, throbbing and pulsing as if it was trying to make its great escape. but the sound of your moan brought him back to the moment, the sweet mewl tumbling out of your lips as you reach your high. it sends him over the edge, cumming in his suit, hips stuttering against yours.

after a moment to catch your breath, you look at each other. the pain and fire are still as strong as ever, in fact, it might even be worse now. he needs to be inside you, feeling your warm walls hold onto him as he releases load after load deep within you.

“we need to-.” he pauses, breath hitching as you start rubbing against him again. the words die in his throat, no longer thinking of the batcave and the antidote.

“i need more, please we can’t stop here.” you whine, looking up at him. whatever you were doing felt so good, feeding into the unstoppable desire that ignited in him.

“we need to find somewhere to go.” he decides, holding onto you tightly.

“there’s a safehouse close by.” you suggest and suddenly it was like a veil was lifted. the fog cleared, and all he could see was you. your unfocused eyes, the way you pawed at him, he knew exactly what to do.

“i know the one, let’s go.” he grabs your hand, practically running down the street with you dragging behind him. but you manage to keep up with him. he’s relieved that no one is really out here, even though the night life was never tame in gotham, he considered it a small blessing that the streets were somewhat quiet tonight.

the safehouse was nestled in between a slew of apartments. he easily grabbed the key from under the mat and shoved the door open, the hinges yelling in protest. he all but pushes you inside, slamming the door shut and sealing you both in.

your body hits the door as soon as he closes it, his brute strength easily manhandling you into any position he wants. you were more than ready for it, wrapping your legs around his waist as your heels dig into his perfect ass, pulling him closer.

he groans as you roll your hips against his, trying to get closer to his straining cock. depravity takes over as you're practically humping against each other, shimming out of your suits. some part of you had to still be touching him — your lips, your hands, anything.

finally, you’re both freed of your restricting clothing, ripping it down just enough so he could gain better access to you, barely caring that he was shredding your hero suit. but it didn’t seem like you minded either as your nails raked against his chest.

“you ready for me?” he fists his aching cock, throbbing and glistening with his cum. the tip was so red, you wondered if he was in any pain — or if it matched the same one you felt in between your thighs.

“hurry, need you to-” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence.

dick slipped into you with one rough shove, filling you all the way up in one delicious motion. you gasp, throwing your head back into the door at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off of the wooden panel.

“sorry, baby.” his arm slips around your waist, his palm spreading along your back for support. “s’okay, you’re okay, yeah?”

he doesn’t move for a moment to try to let you adjust, his body practically screaming at him for waiting. but he felt so weak for you, couldn’t help but start rocking his hips. it didn’t take long for his urges to take over.

his hands pushed down onto your waist, steadying himself so he could get deeper. the only thought that crossed his mind was how good you felt, how well you took him — and it only made him more determined to make you fall apart just like you were making him.

why had he waited so long to make a move? he could’ve done this sooner, years ago. it pissed him off, frustrated he’s gone so long without knowing how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock. the anger only intensifies his thrusts, the door rattling behind you in protest.

“s-slow down!” you cry out, not really thinking of what you were saying. the last thing you wanted was for him to slow down, but everything felt so fast, so overwhelming that your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“that’s not what you really want.” he grunts out, lips latching onto your neck. he needed to leave little marks on you. a reminder for him that this is really happening, that this is real. he’s finally fucking you. “you’re so tight, you feel so good f’me.”

“all for you, only for you.” you start to babble, drunk off the sensation he‘s feeding you. your legs wrap tighter around his waist, driving him deeper than he already was. his pace stutters for a second, his release already sneaking up on him. “ah- m’already close!”

“me too, baby.” he breathes, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “please let me cum inside, need to fill you up and breed this pretty pussy.”

you clench around his words, nodding your head profusely, body tightening as electricity shoots through your body as you cum around his cock. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues to thrust into you, desperately chasing his own release.

“yes, yes, need it, please!” you moan, practically milking his cock. once you give him the okay, he drives as deep as he can and lets out a broken moan as he fills you up.

“shit.” he grunts out, his breathing far out of his control. he lowers you down, letting you land on your feet. but you can hardly stand, his grip tight on your elbows to keep you upright. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, trying to process what just happened, what’s currently happening. intense need swarms his mind again and pain spreads throughout his body with every passing second he isn’t inside of you.

instinctively, you drop to your knees, your hand lightly grasping around his slick base. dick lets out a hiss of pleasure, tossing his head back as he feels the slight essence of reprieve.

“need you in my mouth,” you look up at him, slowly pumping his cock. he twitches in your hand with interest, the sex pollen still sending his body into overdrive. he doesn’t even feel overstimulation, all he feels is lust and the overwhelming need to wreck you.

“go ahead, baby.” you wrap your lips around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you get right to work. his eyes roll back and he needs to grip onto the back of your head for support — otherwise he’d fall backwards. “damn, knew you’d be good at this, always running your sweet little mouth whenever you’re around me. feels like heaven.”

you hum in approval, the sensation tickling his tip. you take him in deeper, your hands grabbing onto his ass for support.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters under his breath. normally, you probably wouldn’t have heard it, but the pollen heightened all of your senses when it came to him. his voice sounded so raspy, so desperate, it had you squeezing your thighs together. “please don’t tease me right now or i’ll fuck you against the wall again.”

so you don’t, swallowing his whole length, your pretty eyes filling up with tears as you look up at him. he feels like he’s going to pass out — his head is fuzzy, his thighs are trembling, you have him under your spell and a primitive part of him is screaming at him to fix it.

“i’m gonna cum.” he moans, gripping your hair. he almost lets himself, but it wouldn’t feel fair. he needed you to cum with him. the two of you were in this together. he pushes you off of him, regret already swarming his body as the pollen viciously attacks him again.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping the spit that was pooling in the corner of your mouth. he picked you up, bringing you over to the couch.

“i have to taste you.” he tosses you on the couch, “so you’re gonna sit on my face.”

the way he said it doesn’t leave any room for argument so for once, you listen to him. watching as he sits next to you on the couch. your bodies pivot so he’s laying down instead of you, an eager smile on his face.

you climb on top of him, going to move your hips over his eagerly awaiting mouth. but he’s impatient, the need to taste you on his tongue is too great. hastily grabbing your hips, he pulls you down on his face. you yelp in surprise, nails digging into his abs to ground yourself. he doesn’t waste a second, diving into the delicious meal you’ve presented him.

even without you touching him, he started to feel his own relief by swirling his tongue around your clit. his hips thrust in the air, unable to control himself. your moans and small gasps of pleasure fuel him to keep going, not planning on stopping until he’s gotten his fill.

he groans into your cunt as you start to take his leaking cock in your warm hands, focusing on his tip. you lean over his body as he holds you firmly in place so you can pull him back in your mouth, engulfing him in an instant.

his hips involuntary jerks up, pushing himself deeper and eliciting a gag from you. he would feel bad but with the way you gushed around his tongue told him otherwise.

“god, you taste incredible.” he mumbles, making sure he’s not missing a drop. but honestly, it’s too much. your slick mixed with his cum has his mind spiraling — the taste settling on his tongue, nestling deep into his senses.

it was all a haze, trying to devour every drop of you, gripping onto your thighs so tightly that if he was thinking more clearly, he might feel bad. but the way your tongue wraps around his cock, your throat enveloping it all the way down, leaves him with very little coherent thoughts.

but he couldn’t stop lapping at your cunt, every tremble, every moan, every taste of you has him wanting more and he knew that this wouldn’t be enough — it might never be enough. you’ve created an insatiable beast that only craves your touch.

“dick, i’m gonna cum-.” you take a gulp of air, using your hand to furiously pump his cock, fingers dancing around his tip as you usher out your words. a flare of pride spikes up with him and shoots throughout his body, his hand getting away from him as he encouragingly slaps against your thigh.

“please, baby. come all over my face.” he knows he sounds wrecked but he doesn’t care. he gets back to work, suckling on your clit more intently than before. your mewls vibrate along his length and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth a little, overly excited at the prospect of you releasing all over him.

he helps you ride his face, guiding your movements by his grip on your thighs. with a cry of his name, you cum again, gushing all over him. at this point, he could die a happy man, cleaning you up as your thighs shake in his palms.

he’s not sure if it was your skilled mouth, your messy cunt, or the fact he managed to pull that strong of an orgasm from you — but he came in your hand that was still rubbing at his tip.

“f-fuuuuuck.” he moans out, hips jerking in your hold. after a few minutes, he feels you slide off of his face, pivoting yourself and sitting on the couch, head hanging off the back of it.

it had to be over, right? all of the pollen should be out of your systems. he sat up and mirrored your movements, looking over at you to see how you were faring. and you were already looking over at him, half lidded eyes as you were catching your breath. your skin was glistening in sweat, much like his own.

the itch creeped up his neck, sending chills over his body. it definitely wasn’t done and the agony of not touching you anymore was starting to get to his head. he lunges over to you, pinning you on the couch as he lines up his cock once again.

“god, i need to have you.” he breathes, searching your eyes to see if you feel as messed up as he does.

“you’ve got me.” you mewl before looking up and adding, “you’ve always had me.”

“really?” disbelief coats his words, somehow managing to pause his motions even though his body is screaming at him. the fire inside of him is licking at the tightly wound coil within him, but somehow he’s able to push it down — even if it’s just for a moment. but he needs to hear this, needs to hear you.

“i’ve-” you start squirming under him, no doubt feeling that same fire he did. he almost felt a little bad by delaying your gratification but god, he really needs this. he can’t tell if the tears forming in your eyes are from the pollen or from the emotion that’s been building up after all these years. “i’ve always loved you dick.”

his hormones fly out of control, his hold tightening against you. every nerve in his body tells him to move but he’s somehow frozen, transfixed on your confession.

“i love you so much.” he manages to choke out, desire boiling in his gut once again, fueled by the sweet words he’s been dying to hear from you. it was too much, the overwhelming itch consuming him once again as “fuck, ‘m sorry, need to-.”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, instead he’s plunging into your warm, welcoming walls. fitting together like a puzzle piece that was always destined to connect. the pollen swirls with the love shared between you two and he can’t help but ruthlessly drive into you, relishing in your sharp cries of pleasure.

his cock slips out of you, exasperated groans both leaving your lips and into each others mouth. he reluctantly pulls apart from you, shoving himself back where he belongs before he resumes his pace.

“dick, more-.”

something shatters within him. he couldn’t say it was self control — that had long been gone. but something else deep within him broke by your hands and yet, he could already feel you mending it back up.

there’s no way to tell the passage of time, but none of that mattered to him anyway. all he could do was revel in the warmth of your soft, silken walls. his eyes scan over your face, taking in your blissed out state no doubt mirroring his own.

it had him wanting — craving more. like a man starved who had his first bite, who wouldn’t be sated until he had his fill.

dick’s movements were even faster now that his body could hardly keep up. his cock slipped out of you again, and he let out a strangled sob.

everything was just so wet, both of your bodies coated in a mixture of sweat, spit and cum. he felt your slick coat his thighs, your saliva mark his neck — every inch of his skin is completely covered by your essence.

he drives himself back into you, humping against you as he chases another release. everything was burning up the longer he staved off. at this point, he needed to keep filling you up. you made it so easy for him too, greedily sucking him back in every thrust, squeezing around him so tightly his head was spinning.

driven by pure instinct, he pushes your thighs against your chest, pushing himself deeper into you.

“wanna take my time with you s’badly.” he rasps out, hands pushing against your legs. “but you just feel s’good i can’t stop.”

his mouth hung open as unsteady breaths left his lungs, trying to gulp up any air he could. but he’d much rather breathe in the sight below him, watching you sprawled out for him, sucking him into your pretty cunt has his mind short circuiting.

“you take me so well, you’re so good to me.” he babbles, eyes squeezed shut for a moment to soak it all in. “you were made f’me.”

his head falls forward and he feels a bead of sweat drop down the side of his face. your trained eye watched it fall, before you lean up and lick it clean off of him. he gasps in surprise, lips chasing yours once again.

at this point, you really couldn’t call it kissing. your lips were pressed against each other but neither of you could move them properly. just unsteady breaths and moans keeping the two of you connected as pleasure overrides your senses.

arousal pours like gasoline beneath his abdomen, your pleas serving as a match to ignite his body into flames. the pollen warps his mind, drunk on your taste and only craving more of it.

but he needed you to cum first. he was still trying his best to help you, to relieve you of any pain. he doesn’t know how long it’ll take but he needs you to at least cum as much as he does.

“oh god, oh, it’s never, fuck, felt like this before, so good-“ you moan out, arching your back up so he can get deeper.

“i know baby, i know.” he keeps going, harder than he had before. “you’re so, so good to me.”

it was all too much for you, clinging onto him as he relentlessly thrusts into you. he watches as your body freezes in his grasp, bliss saturating all your features, before you forcefully come around his cock.

he wasn’t much further behind, gripping the back of the couch and pushing his hips flush against yours as he fills you up once again.

the pollen was still tingling in his system, he could feel it. but he felt so drowsy, and he knew you were too. he presses his forehead against yours as your legs fall helplessly by his sides.

“you okay?” he can hardly recognize his own voice.

“mhm, you?” you ask, your eyes fluttering shut for a second. he sees your face constrict with pain and he knows you feel what he feels. it’s not over yet.

“can you handle another round?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek, wiping off what was either sweat or tears. it took so much not to jump you, but the desire was starting to lessen and becoming easier to control, but that didn’t change the fact he was still so damn weak around you. one more round would soothe it all, he can feel it.

“can you?” you laugh breathlessly, always trying to challenge him. a lazy smirk takes up his face as he adjusts you, sitting back against the couch and pulling you up into his lap. his fingers rub little circles along your hips before he digs his fingers in.

“since you’re so confident, why don’t you show me how it’s done.” he meant to sound cocky, but his voice came out twisted with need and desperation.

“with pleasure.” you grab a hold of his still hard cock, lining it up with your sopping entrance, cum from the previous rounds dripping down your thigh. he can’t help but swipe some on his finger, playing with the slightly sticky substance.

you slide down on his cock, moaning the entire way down. all he can do is look up at you, unconsciously sliding the two coated fingers in your open mouth.

you swirl your tongue around them, sucking them clean as well as you were sucking him off earlier. he moans, head hitting the back of the couch as you start rolling your hips.

“you’re so pretty — fuck — i mean, just look at you.” he slurs, eyes glued to where you were connected. his fingers leave your mouth, sliding down your body. “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, using it as leverage to grind yourself more in his lap, his neatly trimmed pubic hair brushing along your swollen clit.

he slumps back a bit, letting you take control and take what you need. mesmerized by the way your tits jiggle with each movement, he wraps his tongue around your nipple before giving it a sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

he was lazy with his movements, swirling his tongue around the perked bud and nuzzling his face against it. the more he touches them, the more he needs to.

your hips drag along his, bodies pressed together as it feels like lead fills your bones. but you can’t stop moving against him.

“want you to be mine.” he moans against your tits, thrusting up into you more as he feels himself getting close. all he needs to hear is your confirmation that you’ll finally be his. “say you’ll be mine.”

“m’yours!” your cry out at the increase of pace, fingers digging into his hair as he leaves his mark all over your breasts. “i’m all yours.”

with one final groan, his hips jerk up a few times, releasing another load into your already overflowing cunt. the grip on your hips loosen as his forehead lands on your shoulder, wincing as you keep going to chase your release. overstimulation was starting to creep up on him as the pollen started to clear out of his system. but he didn’t care, he’d keep going as long as you need him to.

“c’mon baby.” he slurs, leaving open mouthed kisses along your collarbone before looking up at you like you summon the sun every morning, beaconing it with your radiant, blissed out smile. “you’re doing s’good for me, give me another one c’mon.”

“cant, i’m trying but i need more.” you move your hips a little faster with a whine of his name tumbling from your lips.

“i’m right here, fuck baby, let go f’me. you’ll feel so much better i promise.” his fingers slip in between your bodies, thumb pressing firmly against your clit as you keep riding him. it sends you over the edge, gripping onto his shoulders and tossing your head back. he’s never seen a more ethereal view and if he could’ve, he would’ve cum all over again at the sight alone.

he doesn’t move his thumb as you ride out your high, squirming around in his lap as pleasure courses throughout your body. he lets go after you start twitching in his grasp, showing you mercy for the first time tonight.

you collapse into a heap on his chest, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. he feels you curl into him, exhaustion starting to take you. he’s still nestled inside of you, with no desire to move.

he blinks a few times, starting to take in his surroundings. you guys definitely messed up the couch. anyone who passes through this safehouse will see the traces you two left behind for weeks to come. the thought makes him smirk a little bit.

his phone buzzes and somewhere deep in his fucked out mind he realizes he should check. he’s still technically on patrol. with one arm still securing tucked around you, he uses the other to grab his phone.

everything is a little blurry, the fog still clouding his mind, his eyes drooping as he tries to read it. your soft snores start to fill his ears as he opens the text from tim, reading the line over and over a few times in hopes of processing it better. but then he gets it — clear as day. it was from tim.

“let me guess. you stopped at a safehouse.”

another text.

“have fun explaining this one to bruce.”

taglist : @the-tenth-shadow @petriquors @boogiebooboo @lucifersidepiece @oikawabi-sabi @collin-thegreat ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader smut #nightwing smut #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you #titans x reader #titans smut

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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago

Text

an indentation in the shape of you || Cha Hyun-Su x f!Reader

summary: Hyun-Su wants to learn how to make you feel good. The two of you experiment some more.

word count: 2.8k

warnings & tags: fluff, smut, reader is afab, explicit consent, pwp, porn with feelings, fingering, dry-humping i guess?, they're both virgins and pretty awkward but they're getting better at this, all very vanilla.

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: this is my first hyun-su one-shot without angst lol (...don't get too used to it). anyway, this is more smut, and i think it's more intense than the previous one. hyun-su is more confident in this one, and he takes charge a little more (but in other ways he's pretty subby, so do with that what you want). hope you enjoy!

There is something about watching Hyun-Su moving around in your house that warms your heart in a way you can’t quite explain. He’s seemed more confident there lately, no longer tiptoeing or stiffening around you like you could kick him out any second. It reminds you of days forever gone, when your mom used to sit at the table while doing her crosswords and your dad put music on the second he walked in through the door.

It reminds you of when this house was a home.

Right now, Hyun-Su’s fixing up a spear he’s brought here with some of your dad’s tools. It’s not his, you know that much. ‘Yi-Kyeong asked me to take care of it’, he’d said when he had set to fix it. There was something to his tone that had stopped you from asking for more, even if you think he’d have told you. He’d said her name respectfully, but with deep sadness, and you had known that there was a lot more to this story. You’d get there some day, you were sure, but not tonight.

Hyun-Su glances up at you, and you almost whip your head away to pretend you weren’t looking at him, like you’re a highschooler with a crush. Instead, you don’t even try to make it look like the long forgotten book in your lap is of any interest to you, and you give him a smile.

He stills his movements.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice is calm and deep. He sure has come a long way.

“Just like looking at you,” you answer, because it’s true, and even with all that progress, you’re not surprised when Hyun-Su looks away from you, cheeks turning red.

When he gets the courage to look back at you, though, a bashful smile illuminates his features, and you don’t think that would have happened even as recently as a few weeks ago.

“You do?”

There’s just something in the air. Something fresh and sweet and new, something that makes you bite your lower lip while you nod, suppressing the giggle that’s forming in the back of your throat. Hyun-Su’s eyes on you feel intense, and you’re not used to getting that kind of look from him. After a few seconds of that, he abandons the spear behind him to stand up and walk towards you, eyes not leaving yours for a second.

A long, intense shiver runs down your back. Under his hoodie, you can see the muscles of his shoulders moving as he walks, and fleetingly, you wonder if you’d have had a chance with him, in a world without the Apocalypse, but even that is quickly swallowed by the fact that you have him now.

He puts a hand on the back of the couch as he leans close to you to kiss you, the other coming to rest on your waist and oh, if he keeps doing things like that, you think you’ll just turn into a puddle. Your heart is fluttering, and when his hand sneaks under your t-shirt, long, cold fingers carefully caressing your skin, you think it just might fly out of your chest.

His lips move slowly against yours, and you tilt your head back as he towers over you. You feel like you’re going into overdrive from how sensual he’s being, how his tongue dances with yours as the soft sounds of the kiss fill the room. It’s not long before he’s gently pushing you onto your back on the couch, and he goes down with you, putting one knee between your legs to support himself.

And it’s all just so much. Hyun-Su’s lips, his taste on your tongue, his warm body half-covering yours, his fingers running over your ribs, and, fuck, now his knee just almost, almost pressing right where you need him to.

But this feels nice, too, and you’re not trying to initiate anything sexual just yet, so you do your best to be patient. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and find some satisfaction in the way Hyun-Su loses his rhythm at that. Knowing that you still have that kind of effect on him, even as you’re unraveling completely under his touch, makes you just a little more confident in what you’re doing.

It isn’t long before Hyun-Su’s gotten his bearings back though, and then he kisses you with renewed passion. The kiss turns less controlled, mouth crashing against yours harder, his hand tightens on your waist— before he pulls away, panting.

“Sorry,” he says before he can catch himself, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t mind,” you answer, but your voice is squeakier than you had intended.

“I didn’t mean to— I wanted to ask you something.”

His black eyes are wide, and as much as the blue eyes are like an electric shock running through you, you love them so much. You love how you drown in them, you love how kind they are, love that they are, truly, a window to his soul.

“What is it?” you whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.

“Just— What we did. Last time.”

No need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, so, even if you feel blood rushing to your face, you nod.

“I wanted to, uh, return the favor. If you don’t mind.”

It’s your eyes’ turn to widen, and you push yourself onto your elbows to better read his expression. The skin of your face tingles with how burning hot it is.

“I mean I— Sure but you don’t— You don’t have to do anything—”

“I know,” he says, shaking his head. His voice is soft. “But I want to.”

You swallow, but you lay back down. You’re more nervous in this situation than you would have expected, feel vulnerable, exposed, even if you’re all clothed for now. But you trust Hyun-Su, you do, with all of your heart, and you cannot imagine a better person to have this experience with. So, slowly, you nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” you whisper.

“Then can I…?”

He pulls on your shirt, but without putting any force into it. His eyes are on you, waiting for your approval — or whatever you decide to answer with.

You swallow.

“Um, yes, but could you— could you also…?”

He understands your meaning without you having finished, and acts on it faster than you would have expected, almost immediately pulling his own hoodie over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You’d noticed before that, for all his shyness over other things, he doesn’t seem to care about nudity all that much, but you’re not sure what to do with it.

For now, you can at least admire the work of art that is his body, his well-defined muscles and hard pectorals, and since he’s out in the open now, you give him a nod.

“Go ahead.”

He takes off your shirt like you’re made of porcelain, pulling it slowly and softly over your head, and taking his time so it doesn’t get caught in your hair. It is such a sweet sight, how focused he gets on the task, on making sure he’s doing right, so that he doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s only once he’s done that his gaze lands on your body. He stills, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but stiffen.

It might be silly, at this point in your relationship — and when the world has literally ended outside your window — but you’re feeling self-conscious. You want to fold your arms in front of your breasts, hide your stomach and any imperfection.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyun-Su says, so obviously in awe, and the weight on your stomach is replaced by sweet, sweet butterflies. “Is it— is it okay to—”

“Touch me,” you ask instead of letting him stutter through the rest of his sentence, and he almost gasps at that, pants suddenly feeling a lot tighter.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he mumbles, bright red once again, stealing a kiss from you when you open your mouth to tease.

Then he’s kissing down your neck, and you can tell that he’s mimicking the things you did to him the last time something like this happened between the two of you. You barely have time to find that sweet, though, because soon the only thing on your mind are the open-mouthed kisses he’s pressing against your skin, and how they make you so desperate to buck your hips against he’s oh so well placed thigh.

He doesn’t linger on your neck, though, soon moving down to your chest, sneaking a hand behind your back to try and unclasp your bra — something he ends up struggling you with so much that you’re the one that eventually reaches back to get it done. He’ll have all the time to learn that kind of things later. For now, there’s something on your mind, and you don’t want to have to wait any longer.

You let him slide it down your arms, then discard it, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes.

“Can I…?”

“You still don’t have to ask.”

He hesitates for a second, before going back down to press a shy kiss under your collarbone, right where your breast starts to form. He keeps kissing his way down, hands for now cautiously staying away. Finally, he reaches your nipple, and you cannot hold back a distinct gasp when he carefully wraps his mouth around it. It turns into a full moan when he flicks his tongue against it — and you could swear you feel his mouth stretching into a grin right after that.

It’s then that he cups your other breast with his hand, and you shiver. His body may be radiating heat, but his hands are cold. They don’t stay that way for long though, not with how hot you’re running right now yourself. He starts off shy over there too, at first massaging your breast gently, before his fingers dare brush against that nipple. It’s hard already, and with his mouth on the other side, all you can do is arch into his touch, moans still falling freely from your lips.

Pleasure’s running wild in your body, each and every sensation going straight down to your core, more so when his fingers experimentally pull on your nipple. You’re dripping wet already, desperate for relief, and it’s not long before you can no longer hold yourself back and buck your hips up against his leg.

He lets go of you almost immediately, glancing down at your lower body as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. When he looks back at you, his eyes are impossibly wide, his pupils dilated.

“Did you— Did you just—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call out in a sigh, running your fingers over the nape of his neck. “Touch me.”

For a second, his whole body tenses and he just stares at you. Then he exhales.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “Fuck. Um. Then I’ll— I’ll just—” He starts fiddling with the button of your jeans, and just the anticipation of his touch where you need it the most sends pleasure rushing through you once more. This time, he manages to get them off of you without your help, and there’s another slow exhale. “You’re so— You’re so—”

Wet is the word you think he’s searching for, and he’s not wrong about that. The urge to reach down between your leg to take care of the ache you’re feeling is strong, but the desire to feel him down there is all-consuming, and so you wait for him, your breathing loud and ragged.

“Tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good to you.”

He doesn’t take off your panties, probably because he hasn’t gotten your jeans fully off, and instead just pushes them to the side. He’s cautious here too, at first barely brushing against the lips, which still makes the muscles of your thighs tense. It feels like you’ve been waiting for it for centuries when he finally inserts a long finger inside you, sliding in so easily from how dripping wet you are. Your hold on his shoulders tighten, fingers digging into his skin, and even with your lips pressed tightly together, your moan reverberates through your body.

“Good?” Hyun-Su asks, and his low voice in your ears does absolute wonders to you right now.

“You can add another one,” you say, except it’s probably more of a whine, but you can’t tell for sure, not with how much your head is buzzing right now.

Hyun-Su obeys almost immediately, and you bury your head in his neck to muffle the groan that follows. You feel so good, so full, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You let yourself adjust, before giving him more instructions.

“You can— You can spread them open and— ah!— m-move them in and— Ah!”

Hyun-Su follows your advice diligently, and soon you no longer even have the strength to hold on to him, falling down onto your back with your whole body arching into his touch, following after him if he pulls out. It’s so, so fucking good, nothing you’ve ever done on your own can compare to this and you don’t know how you’ll be able to go back after that.

You’re gasping and writhing underneath him for you don’t know how long, and you’re so, so close to the edge, but you need— You just need something more, so you push yourself back up on your elbows, something harder than you’d think, when your muscles feel like jelly, and that’s when you realize that his hips are bucking against your leg. You hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now you see how obviously hard he is, and the small, almost shy movements of his hips as he ruts against you.

“Hyun-Su,” you call — you’re no longer paying attention to how your voice is coming out —, “here—”

You grab his wrist, and even if it means he pulls his hand out, something that immediately has your walls clenching around nothing at the loss, guide him so his fingers brush against your clit.

“There,” you whisper. “You can keep, uh, keep your fingers inside and— and touch me there, too.”

He nods, pushes the fingers back inside. There are a few seconds as he figures out how to best put his hand, and then when he strokes your clit with his thumb, you almost immediately lose it. You only have the presence of mind to lift your leg up, just a little, so it presses against his hard cock.

It’s his turn to freeze and to let out a moan then, one obviously surprised out of him.

“You should feel good too,” you manage to mumble through the haze of pleasure.

“But I— I want to make you feel—”

“We can both feel good,” you answer, and Hyun-Su just cannot resist kissing you again. It’s messy, tongues clashing together without much control, but fuck, he cannot explain or control the way he feels about you.

You come just a few moments later, waves of pleasure crashing through you all at once as his thumb circles your clit, fingers deep inside you, moving at a tranquil pace that lets you feel all of his movements inside you.

When you open your eyes again, he’s above you, staring at you lovingly.

“Good?” he asks.

Better than that.

“That was incredible,” you tell him though even that feels like an understatement. You love the way he obviously preens under your compliment. “But— But what about you? Didn’t you—”

You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him.

“I, um, I’ve already—”

He’s turning bright red again, but you understand without another word. His jeans are still on, and you haven’t even actually touched him, and yet he still came in his pants, against your thigh, while fingering you.

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed.

“Oh,” is all you can truly think to say. Then, shyly, “Want to go get cleaned up?”

“Together?” His voice is soft, questioning, but his eyes are in yours, comfortable instead of avoiding. You nod.

Later, you’re still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, his face buried in your neck. And you, too, are comfortable.

There’s just something in the air, something fresh and sweet and familiar, and you think something you haven’t let yourself explore all that much, even if you’ve known, deep down, for a long time.

It just might be love.

and here we are! this one felt a lot smuttier to me than the previous part, but it was fun to write about this relationship in a less angsty way, too. maybe i should let them be happy a little more lol. anyway, i hope you liked it! next part probably won't be smut, but i don't know when it will be out. i have a new, time consuming internship that doesn't give me a lot of free time, so i don't know how much/when i'll have time to write. but i definitely have more stuff i want to write for this couple! so don't hesitate to comment and/or reblog to give me the motivation to write after work lol, and i'll also be answering my asks when i have time!

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kakujis · 2 years ago

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do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline.

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him.

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him.

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing.

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening.

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach.

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him.

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him.

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn.

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden.

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand.

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia.

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.”

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message.

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity.

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?”

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.”

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.”

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?”

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.”

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier. it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop.

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there.

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his.

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him.

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran.

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?”

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.”

“liar.”

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.”

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room.

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision.

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?”

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?”

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.”

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.”

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin.

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.”

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire, “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?”

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.”

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover.

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout.

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?”

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.”

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.”

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.”

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow.

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?”

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou:

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them.

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club?

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.”

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor.

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes.

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing.

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.”

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby.

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him.

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?”

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.”

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.”

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.”

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens.

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible.

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask, tilting your head.

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback.

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…”

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?”

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?”

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.”

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.”

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard.

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together.

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?”

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it.

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep.

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you.

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

#tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hanma shuji #ran haitani #rindou haitani #pibby writing #RANS WAS MY FAVORITE JSYK !!!!

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steveseddie · 9 months ago

Text

not so fast

rated: t | cw: none apply | word count: 6,219

tags: steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, accidental kissing, getting together, first kiss, steve is a Disaster in this

click here to read on ao3

***

Steve is running late for work.

And not just a little late either. More like, catastrophically late.

Like, ‘should’ve left his house ten minutes ago to even hope to make it on time’ kind of late.

Why?

There isn’t just one reason for how that happened- it’s been a series of mishaps that started with his alarm not going off this morning and ended with his car refusing to start.

“Because of fucking course!” Steve groans, twisting the key into the ignition a few more times before giving up.

After a string of creative curses and smacking his palms and his forehead against the wheel multiple times in frustration, he leaves his useless car and goes back to the house. As he crosses his driveway, he tries to think of ways to get himself to work.

First, he thinks of Nancy. He knows she’s giving Robin a ride to work today, but she’s probably dropped her off by now, punctual as she is. He has no way to reach her until she goes back home, and he’s pretty sure she mentioned something about hitting the library after dropping Robin off to do research for one of her articles for The Weekly Streak, so asking her for a ride isn’t an option.

Considering Steve’s only other friends are all fourteen-year-olds with no car and no license, he’s out of any other options pretty quickly after that.

If only he had a bike he could use, but the Harringtons got rid of those years ago. He could call Henderson and ask him to ride his bike here so Steve can take it to work. The kid will probably complain, but he owes Steve for the countless rides to the arcade and to Eddie’s trailer for their nerdy campaigns and-

Eddie!

Eddie has a car!

Eddie is Steve’s friend and he has a car!

After that realization hits, Steve rushes to the phone, dialing the number to the Munson’s trailer, which he memorized at some point during the last couple of weeks.

“Please, don’t be asleep. Please, pick up,” Steve mutters as the phone rings, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. His eyes flick to the digital clock on top of the TV and he groans. God, he’s so late.

“Ugh, hello?” A sleepy voice asks and Steve sighs in relief. Finally, something going his way this morning.

“Eddie! Oh, thank God!”

“Fuck, man, why are you being so loud this early in the fucking morning?” Eddie grumbles, and Steve feels bad for clearly waking him up. Or he would if he had time to feel bad.

“Sorry, sorry, listen, I need a favor, I need you to pick me up and take me to work, my car won’t start and I’m supposed to be at Family Video in- crap, right now actually.”

“Dude-”

“Eddie, please. I have the keys and Robin can’t get in until I get there and she’s going to kill me-”

“Steve, relax, Je-sus!” Eddie interrupts.

“Please,” he repeats, feeling desperate. “If you do this, I’ll do anything you want.”

Eddie hums. “Anything, huh?” He asks in that low voice that always sends shivers down Steve’s spine. Even now, he can feel them, anxious as he is.

God, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“Munson,” Steve hisses.

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be there in ten.”

Steve winces, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he can ask Eddie to disregard speed limits or traffic lights or other cars just so he gets here faster, the last thing he wants is for him to wrap his van around a tree because of him. “Okay, thanks.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Eddie says before hanging up.

Since Steve has ten minutes before he gets here anyway, he gives himself one to get flustered over Eddie calling him that.

Then he uses the remaining nine to make Robin her favorite snack- peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which she claims taste better when Steve makes them. It’s probably an excuse so Steve makes them for her every time, but right now it works in his favor. She’s going to be pissed when Steve shows up late- he can’t even call the video store to let her know he’s on his way! Not when she’s locked outsid e because Steve has the god-damned keys. He hopes the sandwiches will help soften her up at least.

He’s already in the driveway when Eddie’s van rolls around the corner. As soon as it slows down, he jumps in and tells him to “Go!” without saying even saying hello.

Eddie snorts. “Good morning to you too, Harrington,” he says with an amused half-smile, but he starts driving. Eddie isn’t a slow driver by a long shot, but Steve notices that he still steps on the gas a little harder than he normally would, which he appreciates.

He slumps back onto the passenger seat. “Sorry, hi, thanks for doing this.”

“No problem, man,” Eddie says, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look Steve up and down. “Looks like you had quite the morning.”

Steve blows out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair. It probably looks like a mess right now because not only did he not have enough time to complete his routine, he’s also been anxiously running his fingers through it all morning. “You have no idea! First, my alarm didn’t go off so I had to rush through my shower and didn’t have enough time to fix my hair, then I couldn’t find my vest, then my car keys, and when I finally found those, my fucking car wouldn’t start!” He drops his hands on his lap with a huff.

“Sheesh, man,” Eddie says, somewhat sympathetically.

“Yeah!” Steve agrees as his hands start flailing again. “And now, Robin is gonna be pissed at me all day for being late, and for leaving her waiting outside the store.”

Eddie reaches over with one hand, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you quickly enough, Birdie can’t stay mad at anyone for long.”

“Um, yeah,” Steve stammers out when Eddie’s hand stays there, on his shoulder. “You’re probably right and I brought her PB&J sandwiches to soften her up a bit, so.” He chuckles, a little shakily because Eddie’s fingers are brushing lightly against his neck.

“See?” Eddie asks, giving Steve’s shoulder a little shake. “Give her those and flash those pretty doe eyes of yours at her, and she’ll forget why she was even mad in the first place!”

Steve shoves his hand away- because it should be holding onto the steering wheel, not because having it on him makes his stomach flip-flop.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, how was your morning, Munson?”

“My morning? Well, Harrington, it was just fine, thanks for asking. I was catching up on some lovely much-needed Zs after band practice ran late last night, but then the phone woke me up. Some guy yelling at me to come pick him up.”

Steve makes a face, chuckling softly. “That guy sounds like an asshole.”

“Nah, he’s actually a very sweet guy. Pretty, too.” He tosses a wink at Steve, who flushes pink. “And you know me, I’m so easy for a pretty face. I was already gonna say yes when he promised he’d do anything if I gave him a ride. No way I could refuse.”

“Well, I’m sure the guy is very grateful,” he says, then wrinkles his nose. “And hopeful that you won’t make him regret promising you that.”

Eddie throws his head back with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t ask for anything too embarrassing.”

“Ugh.”

The van falls into a comfortable silence, only the radio playing softly in the background. Steve is surprised that it’s not one of Eddie’s tapes playing, he’s always complaining about radio stations not playing any ‘real music’ and Steve’s witnessed, more than once, the way he dives for the glove compartment to dig out one of his tapes before he even starts the van. He can’t help but wonder if the reason why Eddie is listening to the radio is because he was rushing to get to Steve and didn’t even have time to pick a tape.

Whether it’s the truth or not, it makes a dopey smile appear on Steve’s face, thinking about Eddie not wasting any time looking for a cassette tape because he knew Steve was in a hurry. He also didn’t change out of his pajamas or pause to fix his hair on his way out, Steve thinks as he looks Eddie up and down. He’s currently in plaid pajama pants and an old band shirt with holes around the collar that Steve knows he wears to bed, and his hair is sticking out every which way even more than usual.

He looks cute like that, and Steve’s dopey smile only grows because of it.

“You know,” Eddie starts and Steve jumps, thinking for a moment that he caught him staring, but his eyes are still fixed on the road. “If you want I can take a look at your car? Old Al Munson didn’t just teach me how to hotwire them, you know? Maybe I can fix whatever’s wrong with it.”

Steve blinks. “Really?”

He’s sure that there must be hearts in his eyes right now. He was already dreading having to pay for a tow truck to take his car to the mechanic and then pay to fix whatever was wrong with it. That kind of money would really put a dent in his plans to save enough for a place of his own, so Eddie fixing it for him would be a great help.

“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says, flashing him a dimpled grin. Yup, definitely hearts in Steve’s eyes right now. “I can drive you home after your shift and take a look at it. I’ll bring Wayne’s tools.”

The visual of Eddie bending over the hood of Steve’s car with a tool belt around his tiny waist pops up in Steve’s mind without a warning, making warmth pool in his stomach.

He shakes his head and focuses on the Eddie in front of him- sweet, cute Eddie who is offering to give Steve a ride and help him with his car. Yeah, that’s really not any better than sexy mechanic Eddie from his fantasies.

“That would be awesome, Eds, thank you,” he says, possibly a little too earnestly.

It makes Eddie a little shy. He winds some of his hair around his finger and pulls it in front of his mouth. “Don’t go singing praises at me yet, I might not be able to fix it.”

“Maybe not, but I appreciate it anyway, the ride back home too,” Steve says softly. If Robin was here she would tell him to tone it down with the googly eyes and the mushy smiles, the way she does when the three of them hang out-

Shit. Robin.

He checks his watch and a whine slips past his lips.

Eddie notices and the van takes on speed as he pushes his foot harder against the pedal. “We’re almost there,” he says reassuringly.

Steve nods, but his leg stays bouncing anxiously for the rest of the drive.

***

Finally, Eddie drives the van into the Family Video parking lot.

Steve looks for Robin in the distance, squinting his eyes, wanting to gauge just how angry she looks. If she looks like she’s about to murder Steve, he might just tell Eddie to keep driving.

When he spots her, Steve’s stomach falls. She doesn’t look angry, but that’s only because she has an apologetic look on her face as she talks and gestures wildly to a family of three. Steve can’t read her lips, but he figures she must be explaining to them how her coworker and best friend is an idiot who doesn’t know how to work an alarm clock and that he should be getting here any minute now so she can murder him but not before she sends them on their merry way with whatever movie they’re here to rent and a bunch of candy and popcorn. On the house, of course.

“Fuck me,” Steve mutters, slumping back against the seat.

They never get customers this early on Sundays. Never.

Go fucking figure.

Eddie also squints his eyes through the windshield and scrunches up his nose at what he sees. “Maybe you can bribe them with PB&Js too?”

Steve appreciates Eddie trying to lighten his mood, but all he can muster right now is a slight huff of laughter. He starts gathering his things, ready to jump from the van as soon as Eddie parks.

“What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asks as he starts slowing down the van.

“Uh, I get off at four,” Steve says, just as he makes eye contact with Robin. She manages to glare at him while keeping her polite customer service face on. It’s impressive. “If Robin doesn’t kill me first.”

Eddie sniggers. “I don’t think she’ll kill you, maybe hurt you, or put Nair on your shampoo.”

Steve whimpers pathetically at the thought. The van slows to a stop. With the keys to the store in one hand and his Family Video vest in the other, Steve pushes the door open. He already has one leg out when Eddie says, “Wait!”

Steve half turns in his seat and gives him an impatient look, but it shifts into a grateful one when he sees that Eddie is holding the Tupperware with the sandwiches.

“Not so fast, sweetheart, don’t forget your bribe,” Eddie tells him with a lopsided grin.

Later, Steve will ask himself why he did what he does next, but the truth is, he doesn’t know.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a hurry and his body is moving faster than his brain. Maybe it’s because he had a shitty morning and Eddie swooped in like a knight in plaid pajama pants and a worn band shirt. Maybe he smashed his head too hard against the steering wheel of his car earlier that morning. Maybe it’s Eddie’s dimples or maybe it’s the pet name.

The thing is he doesn’t know what does it, just that something gets his wires crossed somehow, and before he knows it, he’s leaning over the space between their seats and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s mouth.

He doesn’t even realize he does it. Not yet.

He just grabs the Tupperware from Eddie’s limp hands, throws a “bye, Eds!” over his shoulder, and shuts the van door.

Robin’s head snaps in his direction as he makes his way across the parking lot, attempting to put on his vest without dropping the keys or the sandwiches. The family is watching him too and luckily they don’t look mad about having to wait- Steve checks his watch- shit, thirty minutes for him to get here.

“Hi, hello, I’m so sorry,” he starts apologizing before he even gets to them. He tosses the keys to Robin, who fumbles to catch them, so he can finish shrugging on his vest. “I’m so terribly sorry I kept you waiting,” he tells the family while Robin unlocks the door and flips the sign so it says Open! “My alarm didn’t go off and then my friend had to drive me ‘cause my car wouldn’t start and I couldn’t find my godda-rn vest!” He corrects himself when his eyes dart to the kid staring up at him. “But none of that matters now! Because I’m here and we’re-”

“Open!” Robin says, sweeping her arm in front of the door with a flourish, kind of like Eddie does sometimes.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve glances over his shoulder and notices that the van is still there.

Which, weird. But right now there’s nothing he can do about that.

Instead, he starts ushering the family inside, putting on his most charming smile. “Come in, come in, we’ll have you out of here in no time!” He says, following after them.

He makes eye contact with Robin over the kid’s head and mouths I’m so sorry, grimacing when she glares at him. But at least she holds the door open for him too, instead of letting it slam on his face, which he probably deserves.

Once inside, Steve helps the family find the movie they’re looking for in record time while Robin starts the computer system. By the time he guides them back to the counter, she’s ready to log it into the system. They give them an extra couple of days to return it, for the trouble, as well as all the Milk Duds and cherry licorice they want. On the house. Then they wave at them as they head out, throwing a “Thank you for choosing Family Video!” for good measure.

When the door closes, Steve spins around to face Robin on the other side of the counter. “I’m so sorry, Robs,” he says with as much feeling as he can muster.

She pokes him in the chest several times with her bony fingers. “You owe me so much! I’ve been apologizing to that family for thirty minutes, dingus!”

“I know! I’ll clean the floors today and I’ll take care of the reshelving and you can take an extra long break and I won’t say anything!”

Robin doesn’t speak, just glares. Steve grabs his Tupperware, his last resort, and pushes it across the counter toward her. “I made you PB&J sandwiches. Your favorite.”

She heaves out a long sigh. “Okay, fine, I forgive you, but you’re doing all of that and you’re letting me pick the movie of the day and you’re watching it with me.” Steve nods profusely. The corners of her mouth twitch up, and even if it’s not a full smile, Steve feels relief flood through him. “Now come on, let’s finish getting this place ready for business, and then we can have those sandwiches and you can explain how you got here so late.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Steve says, giving her a two-fingered salute like he’s seen Eddie do many times.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve squints at the parking lot before following Robin’s lead- turning on lights and straightening cardboard cutouts.

He notices that the van is finally gone, and so is Eddie.

***

“Then I almost left the sandwiches in Eddie’s van!”

Robin gasps dramatically, cradling her half-eaten PB&J against her chest. She’s in a much better mood now, after one and a half sandwiches, more apologizing from Steve and his dramatic retelling of this morning’s events.

“Which would be just my luck today, I swear! But Eddie wouldn’t let me forget them,” Steve says, his smile turning dopey the moment he brings up Eddie. He knows this because he sees Robin rolling her eyes. “So I grabbed them and then I-”

And that’s when it hits Steve. What he did. Almost an hour after the fact.

The fact being- He kissed Eddie.

“Oh God,” he mutters, horrified. “Oh fuck, oh God.”

“What? Are you having a stroke? What is it?” Robin asks, eyes widening in alarm. “Steve?” She waves her hands in front of his face and bread crumbs fly everywhere. Steve knows he’s going to have to clean those, but right now he doesn’t care about that at all.

He lets out a pitiful whimper, his hands flying to his face. “Oh my God!”

“Steve, what?”

“I kissed Eddie,” he says, but the words are muffled by his hands over his face.

He hears Robin let out a sigh. “Steve, my best friend, my platonic soulmate with a capital P. I know we joke about it but I can’t actually read your mind. I’m gonna need you to speak more clearly.”

Dropping his hands onto the counter, Steve’s eyes meet hers, then he says, loud and clear, “I kissed Eddie.”

Robin’s face goes through many different emotions in like, twenty seconds. Shock, confusion, something that Steve dubs her fucking finally, dingus! expression, and then, outrage.

“Wait! So you were late because you were busy kissing Eddie? Steve!” She says on her way to get angry again, but Steve starts shaking his head before she’s done talking.

“No! Robs, I was running late and then I kissed Eddie as I was getting out of the van!”

The outrage disappears and she grins at Steve. “Fucking finally, dingus!” She says, and yup, that’s the one, Steve got it right. She holds her hand up for a high five, but Steve grabs her hand between his instead, shaking his head.

“No, Robin, no, this is bad.”

“Why? You like Eddie!”

“I do! I like him so much, but he was never supposed to find out, and definitely not by me just- kissing him!” He says, shaking his hands wildly and Robin’s too since it’s still trapped between them.

“Okay, first, I need my hand back,” Robin says, extracting her hand from Steve’s hold. “Now, what did Eddie do when you kissed him? Did he kiss you back or did he go like, ahhh and pushed you out of the van?”

“I- I don’t know. Nothing?” Steve tries to remember, but his whole morning was a blur. It’s just his luck that he finally kisses the boy he likes and he can’t even remember it. “He just- sat there. Actually, he sat there for a while because he was still here when we were helping that family. Oh my God, is that bad? Do you think he’s mad? Robs, what do I do?” He drops his head on the counter and feels Robin pat his head. He doesn’t even care that her hand is sticky with peanut butter and jelly.

“You said he’s picking you up later?” Steve makes what’s supposed to be a noise of assent. “Okay, so you talk to him.”

“If he even shows up.”

Another pat. “I’m sure he will and then you just tell him the truth. That you kissed him because-”

“I was having a stroke?” He says, twisting his head to one side so he can look at her.

Robin rolls her eyes. “I said the truth, dingus.”

“But the truth is so embarrassing. So, Eddie, I kissed you because I think you’re cute, I kissed you because you came to my rescue this morning, I kissed you because you called me sweetheart and it might’ve melted my brain. I kissed you because I finally let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for weeks!” He groans pitifully. “What if he doesn’t like the truth, Robin? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“You know what I think about that,” she says and Steve does know. She’s told him that she thinks Eddie feels the same way over and over while trying to convince him to make a move, but Steve doesn’t believe her. “But if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll know. And whatever happens, you’ll have me and an endless supply of romantic movies we can both cry to! And ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream!”

Steve lifts his head fully from the counter and smiles gratefully at her. “Thanks, Robs.”

“Of course, Steve, now come on! I know what movie I’m picking today!” She says, hopping onto the counter and swinging her legs over it, barely missing Steve’s head.

“Ugh, not Children of Paradise again, please.” Steve groans when Robin grabs hold of his wrist and pulls him in the direction of their romantic drama section.

She does pick that one again and Steve has no choice but to go with it, but at least with a two-part movie, he’s distracted for a whole two hours and forty-five minutes so he doesn’t think about Eddie or what he’ll say to him later.

Not that much anyway.

(Okay, maybe he does.)

***

Steve half expects Eddie to not show up, and a part of him wishes he’s right, so he doesn’t have to talk to him yet- or ever.

He’s surprised when, at four o’clock, he sees the van roll into the Family Video parking lot.

That surprise quickly turns into horror and he must make some kind of noise that alerts Robin and makes her follow his gaze.

“I told you he’d come!”

He turns to her with a pleading look. “Please let me hitch a ride with you and Nancy, Robs, I can’t do this.”

“You can, Steve,” she says, putting her hands on his shoulders to guide him toward the door. Steve tries to put up some resistance, digging his heels into the floor, but she puts her whole body into it and manages to get him moving.

“What if I kiss him again?”

Robin snorts. “Maybe try to have a conversation with him first,” she suggests, pulling the door open and shoving Steve through it. “And if it turns out that he wants to kiss you then go for it!”

“But what do I even say?”

“You’re asking me that? Pfff. I’m hopeless, you know that. Just be honest, okay? And call me as soon as you get home to tell me everything!” And with that, she shoves him toward Eddie’s van. Steve stumbles a few steps, thankfully catching himself just before he eats dirt.

When he looks up, he sees Eddie staring at him through the windshield. He probably just saw Steve nearly faceplant in the parking lot- and Steve’s supposed to hope Eddie wants to kiss him after that? Yeah, right.

With a sigh, he starts walking towards the van. He reaches the passenger door sooner than he’d like, and after bracing himself, he opens the door and climbs inside.

“Hey,” Steve says, wiggling his fingers in a wave.

He notices that Eddie’s hands are clinging to the leather of the steering wheel. He gives Steve a smile that looks a little strained. “Hey, Steve.”

An awkward silence falls over them and Steve’s fingers itch to open the door and run away, but he can see Robin chatting with Nancy, the two of them standing next to her car, and he’s sure that if he makes a run for it, Robin will chase him down and drag him back to the front seat of Eddie’s van herself.

So he stays where he is and glances at Eddie, noticing that he looks different from this morning.

“You changed your clothes-” he starts, but Eddie chooses that moment to also start talking.

“Seems like Buckley’s in a better mood-”

They both cut themselves off when the other speaks, looking at each other and laughing a little awkwardly.

Eddie looks down at himself. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a self-made Corroded Coffin shirt, and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail, which allows Steve to see the earrings adorning his right ear. “I did change clothes. I don’t just hang around and do nothing in my pajamas all day. Sometimes, I wear jeans,” he says, making Steve snort. “So, did the PB&J sandwiches work?” He asks, gesturing at Robin across the parking lot. Steve can see her glancing towards the van every couple of seconds. She’s not being subtle.

“They did, but I also had to let her pick this long French drama for movie of the day and let her take an hour-long break. And also apologize like, three hundred times.”

“Damn, Buckley’s tougher than I thought,” Eddie whistles, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “But she let you off the hook?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Eddie nods. “Cool.”

Another silence. This one’s less uncomfortable, but it still feels like something is hanging over their heads. No, not just something.

Steve sighs. Might as well get it over with.

“So,” he says.

“So,” Eddie echoes, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel.

“I kissed you.”

There, he said it. It’s out there.

Eddie inhales sharply. “You did.” His knuckles start to turn white with how hard he’s gripping the wheel. “Um, why did you?”

He remembers Robin’s words. The truth, Steve. Just tell him the truth.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I did it at first,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on his lap.

“So it was just- what? An accident? You- you didn’t mean it?” Eddie’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small, quiet. Steve risks glancing at him, and when he does, he finds that Eddie has shrunk in on himself. His eyes meet Steve’s for a split second and he looks hurt, like he wanted the kiss to mean something.

And Steve can’t have him thinking that it didn’t. No way.

He turns sideways on his seat, leaning forward, closing some of the distance between them.

“I didn’t realize I did it because I’m so used to thinking about kissing you,” Steve admits. Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet his- wide, hopeful.

“You- you are?”

Steve nods, feeling his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “I’m just usually better at stopping myself from doing anything about it, but today,” He shakes his head, letting out a shaky laugh. “You swooped in to help me and were looking so cute in your pajamas and you were smiling at me with your dimples and I- I just did it, without thinking. So I didn’t mean to do it, but I meant it.”

Eddie’s lip is trapped between his teeth as he chews on it nervously. It’s very distracting, but Steve does his best to keep his eyes off his mouth and on his eyes, which are sparkling as he thinks over Steve’s words. “Holy shit, you did?”

“Yeah, I meant it so much that when I realized what I did, I started panicking.”

Finally, Eddie lets go of the steering wheel, slumping back against his seat, and huffing out a burst of air. “Thought I was the only one who was panicking.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit. “Why would you be panicking?”

Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “Because! You kissed me and then just- said goodbye like- like you didn’t turn my world fucking- upside down with that kiss, pun absolutely intended. I didn’t know if for you it was like, a friend thing or a mistake or-”

“Not a friend thing,” Steve says, “and not a mistake.”

Eddie lets those words sink in then starts nodding in a way that makes him look like the Chewbacca bobblehead toy he keeps next to his bed. Steve has to bite down on a smile. “Okay. Okay, good, because I want you to do it again.”

“Huh?”

Eddie meets his gaze. “You took me by surprise this morning, but I want you to kiss me again. So I can kiss you back this time.”

Steve’s stomach flips. “Holy shit.” He doesn’t move right away and Eddie looks at him expectantly, not taking it back, waiting for Steve to kiss him again. And what the fuck is Steve even waiting for? “Shit, yeah, okay.”

His hand catches Eddie’s jaw, cradles it with his palm, and he leans over the space between the two seats for the second time that day. Only this time, he moves slowly, committing everything to memory- the way Eddie’s breath hitches when Steve touches his face, the way he goes cross-eyed staring at Steve as he moves closer, the way he whines when their lips brush, not quite touching yet.

And finally, the way Eddie fists the lapel of Steve’s Family Video vest, and in an impatient move, pulls him towards him, crashing their mouths together.

And Steve- well. Steve doesn’t know how he did this already and didn’t remember until an hour later. Because this? He’s never forgetting this.

Eddie’s mouth is warm and soft. There’s a small cut on his bottom lip, no doubt from him chewing on it hard while panicking. When Steve flicks his tongue over it, Eddie yelps, but then he’s tugging Steve even closer by his vest and he’s licking into Steve’s mouth and Steve’s brain goes offline. He gets lost in the kiss. Lost in Eddie. He’s drowning and he never wants to come up for air.

But sadly that’s not something he can do. At some point, he has to breathe so he breaks the kiss but he doesn’t go far. He stays in Eddie’s space, his hand stroking over his jaw. And even if he wanted to move he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, not with the hold Eddie has on his vest.

“I say this should count as our first kiss,” Eddie whispers, his forehead resting against Steve’s.

“What’s wrong with our actual first kiss?”

“Dude,” Eddie says, and the fact that he’s calling him that while their faces are a few inches from each other after kissing, makes Steve giggle. “The kiss lasted like, a second and you ran away right after!”

Steve’s face scrunches up. “Yeah, maybe it wasn’t my best work.”

Eddie snorts. “It really made me question everything I heard about Steve Harrington’s kissing prowess.”

“My- what? Where did you even hear that?”

Eddie shrugs, making Steve’s hand fall from his jaw to his shoulder where he starts playing with a curl that slipped free from his ponytail. “I used to hang out under the bleachers a lot, and heard many girls gossiping about your mad kissing skills.” He waggles his eyebrows, making Steve laugh. “So imagine my surprise when you go and kiss me like- like my grandma used to kiss me! I thought they had to be talking about someone else.”

Steve’s cheeks go red, but he tries to save some face by asking, “And after that second kiss, do you still think they were wrong?”

Eddie gulps. “Nope.”

“Good,” Steve says with a pleased smile. “Then maybe we can count this as our first kiss, I wouldn’t want my reputation to be ruined when we tell people about this.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. He’s back to chewing on his lip, which is significantly more distracting now that Steve knows what those lips feel and taste like, but right now he focuses on the way Eddie’s eyes start flickering all over the inside of the van, not meeting Steve’s when he quietly asks, “This?”

“What?”

“You said this like, what do you mean? What is this?” He lets go of Steve’s vest to gesture between them. “Is it like, just kissing or do you, uh, do you want to be with me? Like, boyfriends or something?”

“Exactly like boyfriends,” Steve says, making Eddie squeak adorably. “If that’s what you want.”

“Steve, God, there’s nothing I want more,” Eddie says with a dopey smile that rivals Steve’s.

Except it doesn’t because Steve is beaming at the thought of being Eddie’s boyfriend. Of Eddie being his boyfriend. Christ. He would be embarrassed about how giddy he feels if he couldn’t tell Eddie was riding the same high as he is.

“Then I guess I should give my boyfriend that ride home that I promised him, hm?” He asks, leaning back on his seat, but not before he leaves a fleeting kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

And God, hearing Eddie call him that makes Steve feel like he’s floating. “Yeah, you should.”

He leans back too as Eddie starts the van. Steve glances across the parking lot before he drives them away and realizes that Nancy’s car is gone. They must’ve taken off around the time Steve kissed Eddie after Robin realized Steve wouldn’t try to run.

“I promised you something too, if I remember correctly,” Steve says, looking out the window as Eddie drives them onto the main street. His eyes flick towards Steve, one of his eyebrows raised. “I promised I’d do anything if you gave me a ride to work, remember?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s talking about. He teased Steve about this all morning and now it’s his turn to return the favor.

“And now that we’re together the list of things I can do got significantly bigger so you might want to think about how you want me to pay you back,” he says with a smirk.

Color starts rising from Eddie’s neck to his cheeks and then to his ears. “I- shit, you want me to think about this while I drive?” His voice goes higher in pitch as he stammers more words out. “Do you want me to crash this fucking van, Steve? Jesus!”

Steve just laughs, relaxing back against his seat. He trusts Eddie not to get them into an accident, but just to be on the safe side, he stops teasing him and reaches for the volume dial on the radio, turning the music up.

He steals glances at Eddie as he drives, thinking how the end of his day did a complete turn from how it started. His morning had been a disaster, especially when he thought he ruined things with Eddie.

But now, Steve is heading home after kissing the boy he likes, and he gets to watch him play sexy mechanic while fixing his car, and he gets to do something about it if he wants- like kiss Eddie stupid against the hood of his car.

So, in retrospect, Steve thinks, his alarm not going off this morning might actually be the best thing to ever happen to him.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #hello this is my 8th fic in three weeks who else is impressed by this because i definitely am #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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ginax0916 · 6 months ago

Note

could you write a triplets x younger sister of her getting her wisdom teeth out? the triplets were so funny and cute in today's video!!

⊹★ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 ★⊹

Sturniolo triplets x fem!little sister

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: The triplets little sister gets her wisdom teeth out and her brothers are there for her.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, teeth, needles, & dentist stuff lol

*tysm for the request I’ve been so excited to write this*

This is quite long btw

*n/n = nickname*

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 �� 𓆟

“Y/n come on get up we have to go” Matt shakes me awake.

“Mmm I don’t wanna” I mumble still half asleep.

“I’m sorry but you have to now come on get dressed or we’re gonna be late” He rips the covers off and opens the blinds.

“Matthewwww” I groan carrying out the w.

“I’ll see you downstairs ok?” Matt says.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes.

It’s not that I was trying to be mean to him it’s the fact that I’m getting my wisdom teeth taken out today and I’ve never been so scared. I’ve always had a fear of dentists, since I was a child. It just never went away. Everything in that room is scary. The needles, the tools that go in my mouth, the bright lights, the surgical looking chair, pretty much just everything.

“Y/n! Come on we’re gonna be late!” Matt yells.

“My god I’m coming Matt Jesus” I reply annoyed as I walk down the stairs.

“Good morning kid” Chris says from the couch.

“Morning” I reply quietly as I sit next to him.

“What’s wrong you ok?” He asks noticing my nerves.

“I’m scared” I mumble embarrassed.

“Hey it’s okay to be scared. We were all scared when we got our wisdom teeth out. Plus we’ll be with you the whole time so you’re not alone” Chris softly says as he wraps his arm around me and hugs me.

“You guys ready?” Nick asks.

“Yes” Chris says.

“No” I sigh.

“C’mon kid you’re gonna be okay I promise” Matt holds my hand pulling me down the stairs with him.

It’s only been 15 minutes of the 35 minute car ride. But every minutes seems like an hour. My leg bounces up and down and I’m continuously picking at my fingers and chewing on my bottom lip.

“Stop that y/n” Nick says putting one hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing and his other hand holds mine to keep me from picking my fingers.

“Sorry m’just nervous” I say looking down.

“Trust me I was too but it really isn’t that bad it just feels like you took a really long nap and woke up with suddenly 4 teeth gone” Nick points out making me laugh a little.

“Will a be all woozy like you?” I ask him.

“Hopefully you’ll be worse so we can all get a good laugh” Chris comments.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“Does what hurt?” Matt replies.

“The anesthesia” I say.

“Well that would beat the whole purpose of it” Nick chuckled.

“What?” I ask, oblivious to the fact of what anesthesia is since I’ve never had to be on it.

“Anesthesia is like numbing cream. It makes you fall asleep and not feel a single thing. All Doctors use it when preforming surgeries or in your case wisdom teeth removal” Matt explains.

“You sound like a nerd” I giggle.

“Well your dumbass didn’t know what anesthesia was so someone had to explain” Matt laughs.

“Will they give me my teeth back?” I question.

“No I think they throw them away” Chris answers.

“Do you think you could ask them to keep my teeth please?” I say to my brothers.

“We’ll see what we can do” Nick smiles.

The rest of the car ride is just my brothers doing all they can to keep me from remembering the fact that I’m about to get 4 teeth taken out of my mouth. They did a pretty good job the whole time until we were actually there.

“I can’t do it” I say refusing to go in the elevator.

“C’mon n/n it’ll be okay I promise” Nick says smoothing my hair down.

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they take out the wrong teeth? Oh my god what if my gums bleed out? What if-” I ramble on my breathing starting to pick up and tears brimming at my eyes.

“Hey hey shh it’s ok. We’re right here. And we’re gonna be with you the whole time to make sure you’re safe. Nothing is gonna happen ok sweetheart?” Matt softly says as he bends down to my level and rubs my arms soothingly.

“Ok let’s go” I sigh getting into the elevator.

“Thank god I thought I was gonna have to carry you up there” Chris sarcastically says while wrapping his arms around me engulfing me in a comforting hug. I only hug him back in response unable to form words from my nerves.

I walk into the dental office hand in hand with both Chris and Nick and Matt leading the way. The sound of dental tools fills my ears immediately. The hallways just seem to get longer and longer. If there is a place that gives off creepy mental asylum vibes it’s most definitely the dentist.

“Hi you must be y/n right?” The doctor says.

“Mhm nice to meet you” I quietly say.

“I’m doctor Gabe I’ll be the one working on your teeth today” Dr. Gabe introduces himself stretching out a hand for me to shake which I nicely shake back.

“Follow me to your room and you can take a seat on the chair once we’re in there” Dr Gabe says as we follow him.

“See he’s nice n/n” Chris says pulling me closer.

“Was he good with Nick?” I question pointing to Nick who was now walking ahead with Matt.

“Yes he was really good, didn’t hurt him at all. You’re in good hands sis don’t worry” Chris smiles, my hand still not letting go of his.

“Chris?” I ask.

“Y/n?” He mimics my tone making me smile.

“Can you hold my hand the whole time?” I quietly ask as we still follow Dr Gabe.

“Of course I can kid” Chris replies, kissing the side of my head.

“Alright and y/n just in there feel free to take a seat. I’m just gonna run your vitals and we can get started with the IV and anesthesia sound good?” Dr Gabe explains as I sit on the big chair in the middle.

“Alright this is gonna go on your finger” He says putting the pulse oximeter on my finger. “And I have to put anesthesia as if it were an IV so it’s just gonna feel like a little pinch”

“Look this way n/n” Matt says gently pinching my chin to move my head away from the needle that was about to go in my arm.

“Is it gonna hurt?” I say looking at my brothers.

“It just feels like a little sting nothing you can’t handle I promise” Nick comments.

“Alright 3, 2, 1” Dr Gabe counts before putting the small needle into my arm.

I squeeze Chris’s hand and shut my eyes. I feel Matt rubbing my shoulder soothingly while whispering comforting words.

“You’re ok it’s gonna work soon and you’re gonna fall asleep” He says.

“I wanna see how long I can stay awake” I giggle.

“I tried that too” Nick laughs.

I start to feel a little woozy and tired but I fight it trying to stay awake.

“Tell’em to keep m’teeth” I giggle again slurring my words as the anesthesia starts to take over.

“Don’t worry we’ll tell them” Chris laughs.

“Ok we’re gonna test your memory alright? We’re gonna give you a password for you to remember” The dentist says.

“My memory s’great” I yawn.

“You tired n/n?” Matt smiles.

“Not one bit” I smile and then yawn again making everyone laugh.

“Alright are you ready for the password?” Dr Gabe says.

“You’re gonna give me a password?” I ask forgetting what he had said before.

“Yes y/n he just told you that” Nick laughs.

“No one told me that!” I argue and then yawning again.

“Ok y/n your password is ocean. Remember that ok? I’m gonna ask you what the password is when you wake up” Dr Gabe says.

“Ocean got it” I say giving a thumbs up.

“Good job y/n” Matt laughs.

“Count down from 10 y/n it will help you fall asleep” Dr Gabe tells me.

“10”

“9”

“7”

The 3 of my brothers burst out laughing but I just keep counting thinking it’s right.

“5”

“3”

“2” I yawn closing my eyes.

“Uno”

“She said it in Spanish” I faintly hear my brother’s dying of laughter. But by that point I’m too far gone to answer.

“You guys are free to come in and stay with her until she wakes up and we’re gonna wait for the anesthesia to wear off so she can go home is that alright?” I hear the faint voice of Dr. Gabs say, but for some reason I feel so tired and numb that I can’t move.

“Yes perfect thank you sir” Nicks voice rings in my ears.

I start blinking slowly to open my eyes. The bright light above me causing them to sting. My mouth feels numb and there’s something in it but I can’t tell what it is.

“You have a good nap?” Matt chuckles.

“S’over?” I say not being able to speak because of whatever is in my mouth.

“Yes you’re done. Wasn’t so hard right?” Nick smiles.

“Let’s go then” I say trying to stand up.

“No no not yet just a few more minutes n/n” Chris laughs gently pushing back on the chair.

“W’ats in m’mouth I can’t speak” I say putting my fingers in mouth.

“It’s gauze y/n you need it because your gums are bleeding” Matt explains.

“My gums are bleeding?” I ask stunned.

“Yes n/n you just got your teeth taken out” Nick laughs.

“What! Nooo they’re probably so sad they’re gone” I pout.

“They’re resting in peace now” Chris starts laughing.

“In pieces” I sigh. Making them all laugh.

“Alright y/n we’re gonna test your memory alright?” Dr. Gabe says as he comes back into the room.

“M’ready” I give a thumbs up.

“What was the password I gave you earlier?” He says.

“There was a password?” I ask confused.

“Yes and you said your memory was really good” Matt smiles.

“It is good! You’re lying there was never a password this is a trick question” I argue.

“There was a password y/n” Dr. Gabe laughs.

“Well I don’t know!” I shrug.

“The password was ocean y/n. But I’ll give you a new one alright?” The dentist smiles.

“I will remember this time I swear!” I screech.

“Ok the new one is pineapple, remember ok?” He says.

“I will!” I smile as he walks out of the room.

“Get this fat thing off my finger” I say throwing the pulse oximeter off my finger.

“Y/n! No you’re meant to keep that on” Chris says.

“Finger not detected” The machine says.

“Oh shut the fuck up” I stick my tongue out at it.

“Tongue in your mouth y/n” Matt says as he puts the thing back on my finger.

“Chris?” I whisper.

“Yea?” He whispers back.

“Did you hold my hand the whole time?” I say.

“I did” He smiles and kisses the top of my head.

“Look at him being a good brother” Nick laughs.

Chris laughs plays with my hair and Matt sits at the edge of the long chair drawing shapes with his finger on my leg.

“Alright she’s almost ready to go home so here’s a little goody bag it has everything she needs inside. Here are some syringes to help clean her gums and where her teeth used to be. Some gauze if she needs extra and some instructions on how to brush her teeth and other stuff” Dr Gabe explains as he comes back into the room.

“I can brush my own fucking teeth” I say crossing my arms.

“Y/n! Don’t curse!” Nick slaps my arm.

“Don’t slap an injured patient” I raise my middle finger at him.

“Y/n put it down” Matt says holding my hand so I can’t put it up.

“Alright y/n what was the password?” The dentist says.

“The password?” I say quietly.

“Yes what was it n/n?” Nick asks.

“Ummm wait let me think really hard” I say putting my hands on my head.

“Pineapple!” I scream.

“Shhh quiet down” Nick laughs putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Very good y/n you’re free to go home. We’ll go get your a wheelchair” He says as he takes off the iv and the pulse oximeter off and then leaves the room once again.

“I can walk on my damn own” I say trying to get up.

“No no you can’t just wait for the wheelchair” Matt says pushing my back down.

“But look I can!” I say getting up quickly but falling forward face planting on Matt chest.

“What did I tell you hm?” He says, wrapping his arms around me to keep me from falling.

“You’re braindead” Nick laughs.

“Says you” I stick my tongue out again.

“Put your bloody tongue back in your mouth” Nick laughs.

I get wheeled out of the dental office and to the parking lot where my brothers help me into the car.

“Wait did they let me keep my teeth?” I ask.

“No they all got destroyed when they took them out” Nick says.

“Noooo what’s the tooth fairy gonna think about that?” I mumble making them laugh.

“C’mon wake up we’re home” Chris shakes me awake.

“I’m awake” I say with my eyes still closed.

“C’mere” Chris says as he picks me up and carries me into the house and sets me down on the couch.

“It was kinda fun” I randomly say.

“What was?” Nick asks.

“Gettting my teeth taken out” I say.

“See it wasnt so Bad” Matt nudges me.

“Alright I have something for you n/n” Chris says reaching to his pocket to take something out.

“For me?” I ask.

“Yes now close your eyes and put your hand out” He says and I do just that.

“Open’em” He mumbles.

“Oh my god! My teeth! I thought you said they were destroyed” I smile.

“We asked them to keep them for you” Nick chuckles.

“Thank you thank you! Tooth fairy is gonna love these”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Do you guys want more snaps with either of the triplets?? Or more texts? Lmk what y’all what in the requests pls 🙊🙏

#y/n #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #dentist

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superblysubpar · 5 months ago

Text

<- part four | part six -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Steve and you are working late.

the song: Cinema by Harry Styles

2,236 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of injury/blood | my blog is 18+

AN: I cannot believe there’s only four chapters left to share of this! Thanks for being here and your continued support of this story 💛Also, no hate to the peaches smelling community, I love that smell just as much as Steve Harrington, just for the purposes of this fic we hate it, of course.

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

“Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears.

It was quick, you blinked and you were already halfway down, stomach swooping as you dropped lower and lower too fast, the gravel no longer a looming, far off thing, but almost right in front of you. Some part of you registered the shout of your name, still sounding close, which would be impossible, unless-

His bike was next to yours, his cheeks pink as you risked a glance over and shouted, “What the hell are you-”

Steve swore, said your name, and then you both hit gravel. Rocks and dirt kicked up and hit your bare legs like little knives slicing through your skin that made you yelp. Your handle bars shook, your grip loosening against your will and that was all it took for the destroyer to take you out.

Something stung, something snapped, something really, really hurt, and you were blinking up at the bright blue, cloudless Summer sky, breathing hard as hot tears started to pour out over your cheeks.

“St-Steve,” you hiccupped, trying to hold in the real tears that threatened to make you start sobbing and the gravel next to you crunched as he scrambled over and you gasped for a deeper breath, “I…I think I…my ankle hurts.”

His voice was strained, heated, and tight, “I told you, look, now you’re hurt and…” he stopped though, seeing the tears on your cheeks and how your eyes went wide when they looked up at him. Bright red, and matting his hair down against his skin, a big gash on Steve’s forehead was bleeding.

“What?” He blinked at you.

Your mouth fell open, gesturing to it, “Steve, you don’t feel that? Are you okay?”

He pressed his fingers to his forehead and winced and your body filled with rage, more tears spilling out of you as you yelled.

“Why’d you come after me!”

Steve blinked at your volume, his lips pulling down in a hard frown as his own voice raised.

“You were gonna get hurt so I-”

“What, you had to get hurt too then?”

Steve shook his head, looking away from you and gingerly reaching out to prop your leg up on his thigh, bloody knuckles and shredded skin on his palms as he curled his fingers around your calf. He looked up the hill to make sure someone was getting help. He laughed, looking back at you with a cold gaze.

“Are you seriously making this a competition, right now? While your ankle is sprained or worse and my head is bleeding? Seriously?”

“Well, why the hell else would you come after me? You just couldn’t let me be the winner, right Harrington? Couldn’t let the stupid girl show you up in front of all your friends, huh?”

Steve blinked at you, gaze roaming over your face before he shook his head.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Hawkins, Indiana - Friday

Eddie sits across from you in silence, brown eyes blinking rapidly.

“How are we doing over here?” The waitress asks, refilling your coffee mugs, eying the silent boy.

“Oh we’re fine. He’s just processing something, can I get a slice of the lemon pie?”

“Su-“

“You - can you have what?” Eddie asks, shocked. He waves his hands in the air, his head shakes from side to side, dark brown waves whipping over his face as he loudly declares with a broad gesture of his hands, “Nope. No. You did not share a milkshake with Steve Harrington!”

“Wanna say it a little louder, I think there’s a few people over in Chicago who only got ever other word!” You hiss at him, leaning forward.

Eddie laughs, scoffs, into his coffee mug but sets it down before he can even take a sip. He narrows his eyes at you and leans on his folded arms on the table. “Sweetheart, I was sort of joking last night. I thought this would be funny, maybe you’d come around to seeing he’s not as much of an asshole as you’ve convinced yourself he is, but overall, I was gonna sit back and enjoy the show of you two going at it like you always do. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with the guy and make googly eyes and play footsie at the diner!”

“First of all,” you growl, but then smile as the waitress drops off the pie. You wait till she’s out of ear shot to continue, “The only reason I was at this diner, with Steve, was because of you-“

“Details,” he waves you off, sipping his coffee with an eye roll.

“-And I’m not in love with him. I…” you trail off, fork stabbing the pie as you force out, “I hate him.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes, sarcasm dripping from the word.

“I do!” You shout, then glance around and lower your voice. “I do. I hate him. I hate how he flirts with anything that giggles and smells like peaches. I hate how he drums on the counter when he has a song stuck in his head and whistles while he restocks the shelves. I hate how he always manages to have some sort of food on his chin or cheek or lips. I hate that he’s a cocky,” you cut a huge chunk of the pie with the side of your fork as you emphasize, “Stubborn,” you stab the bite, “Winning obsessed, thinks he’s never wrong, jerk.”

Your eyes close around the bite of the pie, tart lemon and sweet crust on your tongue hard to swallow because he’s right.

It’s good.

And as the sour and sweet dessert rolls over your tastebuds, you know you don’t hate him. You don’t hate how he flirts, you hate that it’s with anyone but you. You don’t hate that he drums or whistles, you hate that you don’t always know the song, and it has you wondering what he listens to - or worse, you do know the song, and of course you like it. You hate that when he gets food on his face, you just want to lick it off. You hate that because he’s just as stubborn and winning obsessed as you, you always have someone to challenge you - to make you try harder, do better.

Your eyes open to find Eddie staring at you with raised eyebrows and folded hands.

“How’s that taste of reality pie going over?”

You groan, hands over your eyes as you speak softly, “I don’t want to like him, Eddie. I don’t. I can’t.”

“You do,” Eddie corrects just as softly. He pulls at one of your hands, tugging it off of your face so he can look you in the eyes as he asks, “Why can’t you like him? A real reason this time.”

Your fork picks at the pie crust, lip worried between your teeth as you think of all the reasons you don’t like Steve.

There aren’t many - not real reasons at least.

Eddie sighs, “Look,” he waves his hands in front of him, “I’m not saying you’ve created this personal vendetta against a guy who was twelve and didn’t want to lose face in front of his friends, but,” he leans forward and shrugs, “Steve Harrington is not a twelve year old idiot anymore. And what’s he actually done that’s been so bad?”

He lets his words sink in and he taps the table after a minute, joking, “Just don’t sleep with the guy till Sunday, for me, please?”

But that’s it, isn’t it?

As Eddie heads over to the counter to pay, the reminder of the bet makes the lemon in your stomach sour, any sweetness overpowered.

Maybe it was all just a game to Steve still. Maybe your walls had been genuinely crumbling, but maybe that was just because Steve Harrington had expert precision on delivering his blows to it.

You haven’t looked him in the eye the entire shift.

It was bad enough, that when you got dropped off by Eddie, you hopped out of his van wearing a cherry red sundress and only gave a short smile to him when he said hi. A ‘fine’ when he asked how your head was.

You’d nodded as you slipped the green vest over your dress, intently listening while Robin filled you in on everything the pair accomplished all morning.

He worked harder than he has ever for Keith, so you and him wouldn’t have much to do other than deal with the late night shipment arriving.

But you found things to do.

The front window displays were cleaned, windows thoroughly scrubbed, then reset. The dollar rental bin reorganized, new movies added to fill the gaps. You dusted shelves, you filed paperwork that had already been filed. And every time he tried to ask you a question, to talk, you gave bare minimum answers, keeping your eyes off of him.

Maybe, last night, you were only wearing his sweatshirt because it was the first thing you saw, a coincidence. Maybe, you were awake when he kissed your cheek, and you really didn’t like it. Maybe…

Maybe he’s read this entire week completely wrong.

Maybe you’re really never going to give him a chance.

He swallows, restocking candy, fingers lingering on the M&M’s, desperate for comfort food, to over analyze and annoy Robin about this all night and make her tell him it’s fine. Plenty of fish in the sea. Just keep being yourself.

Steve grabs the phone and looks over at you walking down the horror aisle, checking things on a clipboard he’s already checked.

“Hey,” he calls out.

You ignore him.

He huffs as he leans onto the counter, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, watching you as he loudly says, “Yeah, hi, this is Steve Harrington. I’m calling in regards to my manager, maybe you know her?”

You look up at him for the first time the entire shift, frowning. He keeps going.

“Yeah, she seems to not have come into work today? This girl who won’t look me in the eyes and barely speaks to me has replaced her and I’d do anything to get the real her back, even if she’s yelling at me about her precious Red Vines.”

You roll your eyes and walk past the counter, into the back room.

Steve frowns at the open door, slamming the phone down as he does. He stomps into the semi-office-semi-break room to find you starting to run the coffee pot through a cleaning cycle.

“That’s it!” He stands with his hands on his hips as your shoulders jump. “What did I do this time?”

“What?” You spin to face him, crossing your arms over your dress, which only serves to torture him with the way it emphasizes the low cut of it.

“What do you mean what? You know what I’m talking about! You won’t look me in the eye, you won’t talk to me! Baby, what could I have possibly done in the time you were sleeping or before you got here to upset you?”

“I-“

Steve steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair, before talking loudly with his hand hitting his palm to emphasize each point, “I worked my ass off all morning to impress you, like an idiot! I-I thought, last night…” He waves his hands around, shaking the thought away as he continues to get closer, to only speak louder, “I deserve the cold shoulder most days, I get it, you hate me, for whatever reason, but after last night, I’d like to think that-“

“What you deserve, is nothing,” you scoff, taking your own step closer, skin too warm in the badly ventilated back room, skin already sticky with sweat.

“Excuse me?” He asks, incredulous.

It’s too hot back here. Your chest heaves, he watches a bead of sweat travel down your throat.

“You don’t deserve anything just because you did your job, congratulations by the way, on being a normal, functioning human being,” you add sarcastically before continuing, “And you especially don’t deserve anything because you were a little worried about me last night, Harrington!”

“A little? A little?! Honey, I’ve never been more scared in my life!” He shouts, hands gesturing to your forehead while you have the nerve to scowl harder at his words.

“Oh, I’m sure, Steve, that a cut to my forehead is the most scared you’ve ever been. It has nothing to do with the big three hundred dollar question hanging in the air does it?!”

Your bodies are close together, both of you glaring at each other as your voices only get louder. There’s a buzz in the room, a hum, like your bodies are charged, ready to strike.

“The bet?! That’s what you’re upset about? When are you going to get it in your stubborn-“

“I’m not stubborn! You’re stubborn!”

Steve scoffs, eyes looking at your lips as the tips of his shoes touch yours, “Seriously? You’re unbelievable, I…I…”

“I hate you!” You shove at his chest, blinking rapidly at how close his nose is to yours.

He yells, not that angry, “I despise you!”

“I detes-“

His lips collide with yours, swallowing the words you don’t really mean.

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back.

BICFTF Taglist: Thank you for your support 🥰

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf

#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #cw injury #cw blood

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 1 year ago

Text

•𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Earth 42 Miles X Y/n

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎: Your boyfriened miles comes to your apartment . And the cuddle session got heated .

𝐀/𝐍: Tiktok bro , I don’t know what side I’m on , but I will like to stay on it , I didn’t do any Grammarly on this

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:It’s a little bit of spice , He’s liked at college age , HE IS AGED UP

You were laying in your bed trying to stop scrolling on tiktok and finally go to bed . Your thumb was starting to hurt and you started to nod off.

Your late night playlist was playing in the background. You slowly started to let the music sound take over your body . Causing you to feel emotions and tiredness. Resting your head on the pillow and shutting your eyes , a bright light stops the rest .

✨💗Mi Vida💗✨

-Come open the window

You where confused on why he was outside of your window. Not to mention it was late. You pull yourself from your bed dragging your feet to go open the window .

You make it the window using all your muscle from your tired body to left it open . He comes through the window with a bag in hand , you couldn’t tell what was in it .

“You know i have a door right “ you tell him as you start to yawn

“I don’t use those , Mamá, lo sabes.(Mommy, you know it.)“ he rolled his eyes and started to climb through the window .

“Looks like someone is tired “ he says seeing how you quickly go back to your bed and under the covers

“I am not “ you joke to him

“What are you doing up so late ,Una chica tratando de conseguir su descanso de belleza ( a girls trying to get her beauty rest) “ he looks at you

“Are you though, Deberías haber estado durmiendo, mi bella durmiente (you should’ve been sleeping my sleeping beauty )“ you roll your eyes

“Hey blame TikTok ,not to mention my music playlist in the background causing me to fall asleep based off the vibe “ you tell him

“Well I can see that , sorry about not being here earlier…” he tells you before going silent

“Work , was some pretty long hours today “ he tells you as he goes through the bag pulling out your favorite snacks .

“I was hoping we can catch up on are shows with a couple snacks “ he says shacking the bags a little you take the snacks and toss them on bag . He follows you to the bed and takes his shoes off before getting to comfortable.

You turn on the first show and start to get comfortable . Laying your head on miles chest , you start to hear his heart beat . It was fast , he was nervous around you . You giggled at the fact and continue to watch tv

Time and time would go by yet you were still awake , you both were surprised at you still being up .

As night would continue you guys woukd just lay on the bed vibing to the music .Miles would start to slowly flirt more and more to you . “You know baby can I make it up to you for missing the tv shows “ he asks you

. You nod as a response to his last statement

“nah baby words , I need words “ he tells you .

“Yes , yes you can-“ he cuts you off kissing you , one hand holds you waist why the other lays on your face .

Miles starts kissing your neck , leaving a mark on each place his lips touched you .

You wanted to tell him to stop because of classes and how you and miles where going to go see mama rio . But it felt so good . How his lips felt so soft when landed on your skin .

How his hands could have such a tight grip around your waist . You started to make slight noises so miles knew you enjoyed it .

The next day

Your phone started to go off with a noise , you where in deep sleep but it continued to ring . Causing you to wake up you awnser the phone .

“What “ you ask the person getting snappy not even looking at who it is .

“Watch it snappy , ¿Querías algo de Starbucks? (did you want any thing from Starbucks ) “ miles voice asks you

“A Carmel frappe please and thank you , mi vida ( my life ) “ you tell him you hang up the phone hoping you could go back to sleep .

You started to nod back off and place your head on the pillow . A knock sounds starts to come from the door . Who was it now , you thought to yourself.

You dragg yourself out of the bed wiping your eyes , and limping each step you take.You look down to see you where wearing miles shirt from yesterday .

You open the door to see your roommate queenie “ oh are you coming to class today “ she asks you .

She would observe your presence realizing how you where very tired , how she seen marks in your neck and how most likely you where limping . You pull the shirts neckline down to show her some of the hidden marks .

“Looks like someone had fun last night , I’ll see you on Monday then “ she laughs at first than fades .

You smile at her and then close the door and going back to your bed . You start to watch cartoons sense you know Theres no way of going back to sleep.

Soon enough you where right, miles would come with the Starbucks in hand . He would place the cup in your hand . Taking a sip you let out a sigh .

“You better help me cover these marks up because I can’t let mama rio see my like this “ you tell him .

“What ,No puedo hacerles saber cómo complazcan a mi bebé ( I can’t let them know how I please my baby ) .

#atsv prowler #the prowler #prowler miles morales x y/n #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader #prowler #prowler miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff

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trashmouth-richie · 2 years ago

Text

eddie x fem! reader

masterlist

w/c 7.8k

summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.

warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder

a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.

again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.

“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”

The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.

She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.

When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.

“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”

“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”

“Yes I’m su—,”

Goddamn him.

Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”

Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.

“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.

“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”

“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”

Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”

Type A, that’s how she was.

“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”

Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”

The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.

“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.

Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”

“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”

Dating.

Dating Eddie Munson.

Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—

You’re sweating.

Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.

“W-we’re not dating, just—”

How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?

“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.

“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”

Friends.

Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.

[Two weeks prior]

The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.

Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.

The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.

“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.

An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.

He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.

Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.

“Ed—”

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”

Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.

Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.

Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.

He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.

“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.

Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”

He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.

Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.

“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”

When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.

Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”

Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”

His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.

“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”

He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.

The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.

“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.

Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.

Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.

“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”

“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.

“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”

“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.

Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”

He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”

“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.

“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”

“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”

Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.

“Tooty, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.

You definitely were not fine.

Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.

At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.

Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.

By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.

Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.

Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.

[Thanksgiving Day]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”

Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”

Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.

Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

[2 Weeks prior]

🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day

I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay

Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.

He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”

Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.

His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”

Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”

“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.

“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.

“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”

Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.

Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.

Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.

Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.

Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.

With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.

The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.

Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.

[Thanksgiving]

“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.

“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”

Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.

The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.

Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.

Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”

“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.

Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.

Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”

“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.

The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.

And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.

How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.

It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.

He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”

[2 weeks prior]

His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.

The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.

He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.

He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.

A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.

Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.

A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.

A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.

The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.

“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”

His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.

He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.

Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.

“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”

Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.

Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.

“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”

A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?

Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”

A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.

“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”

And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.

Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.

His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.

You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.

He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.

He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.

[Thanksgiving]

A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”

Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.

The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.

“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”

Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.

“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”

Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”

Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.

“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.

He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”

The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.

It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.

Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.

Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”

Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.

“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”

His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.

“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.

Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.

“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”

Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.

“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.

Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.

Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.

Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.

To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him.

Him and you.

The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.

Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.

Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.

He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.

But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.

Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.

No.

You were much more than that, to him.

More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.

He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.

You were it for him.

The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.

Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.

Yup.

You were it for him.

And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.

hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥

@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷

This is for you

*sacrifices 🖕🏼

#honey i’m home #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #eddie x you angst #Eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you fluff

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ecoterrorist-katara · 3 months ago

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I have been thinking a lot about blood bending lately and why the writers decided to go with the storyline of it being banned. I personally do not think it should have been. Like any bending form it can be used for awful things or it could be used for great things (my first thought is always in a medical sense but I’m sure there are other uses). And then I started to wonder if part of why they did that is bc that storyline was connected to Katara more than anyone else, and maybe this was a way to sideline her/focus more on Korra and the new gang instead of exploring with the older characters along with the new ones. But I was wondering if you had any thoughts on it!

hi anon! Sorry for getting to your ask a little late. I was at music camp (okay it’s a professional development program for musicians but I think of it as music camp in an effort to remind myself to have fun) and it was a big challenge since I’m chronically ill and needed a whole apothecary of meds to get through it. (I’m fine now! But needed to pace very carefully before & after and therefore stayed away from Tumblr)

It’s absolutely weird to me that bloodbending is singled out in a world where people can literally steal breath from one’s lungs, but it’s even weirder to me that they had a whole “ban bloodbending” storyline and sidelined Katara, because like…in what world would Katara feel strongly enough about bloodbending to ban it, yet do nothing to enforce the ban? The only explanation that makes sense is that she banned it because she was so ashamed, and stayed away from all the stuff around Yakone et al because she couldn’t bear to be reminded of what she’d done. And like all interpretations of canon Katara in LOK, that is just horribly heartbreaking.

I don’t begrudge the creators for wanting LOK to be about the new generation and I don’t mind seeing the Gaang play second fiddle. But I do object to the creators putting Katara in these situations where she could something in her wheelhouse, that’s in-character with her skills and ambitions, that is in line with her cultural impact as a role model for girls…and then sidelining her. Yakone is a big example, obviously, but so is Katara’s lack of involvement in the Civil War, the Red Lotus kidnapping, etc.

Like you said, bloodbending is useful in terms of the medical implications, but I also think it’s a humane tool in battle as long as it’s only used to incapacitate and not control. I can’t think of many better ways of incapacitating an enemy without causing serious damage (it’s even more efficient than chi-blocking!). If a bloodbender can stop encroaching enemies in their tracks with a flick of their wrist — well, that actually seems more humane than freezing them into ice cubes, which is the go-to waterbender move. I mean, Katara stops Hama with bloodbending in The Puppetmaster; she doesn’t actually control Hama with it. It’s terrible to override people’s bodily autonomy and make them do things they don’t want to do, but that is a very specific use of bloodbending.

I do think, though, that Katara is not the type of person to recognize all the other potential uses of bloodbending unless someone prompts her, and unfortunately that person is not going to be Aang. It doesn’t help that Katara’s first experience with bloodbending is being stripped of her own agency; similarly, it becomes her go-to weapon when she encounters (she thinks) the person who made her feel the most powerless in her life. To Katara, bloodbending is about taking power from someone else…and on her own, she’s not likely to see other applications. Katara is an excellent fighter with a lot of raw power, finesse, and creativity, but she’s not actually all that in-tune with her element, and I think that’s another reason she was never very interested in healing in canon (Katara and waterbending could be a whole other meta). Katara would’ve been an equally excellent bender no matter which element she wields, unlike Toph and Aang, who are uniquely suited to their elements. Katara borrows a lot from the more aggressive forms of bending (fire and earth): grabs people with water tentacles, hits them with ice disks, overwhelms them with big waves. For all that waterbending is about going with the flow and using the opponent’s strengths against them, Katara doesn’t exactly exemplify that philosophy (unlike Aang, btw, who is more intuitive as a waterbender than she is; that is why he picked it up more quickly at the beginning). She addresses all her problems head-on and is more likely to meet them with raw power than anything else. If I were to guess her astrological placements, she’d be an Aries Mars, minimum, if not an Aries Sun as well (she’d be a Cancer Moon though…I have Thoughts on ATLA astrology lmao).

Anyway, all this to say: I don’t think Katara would’ve thought of the healing implications of bloodbending on her own, when she’s already been traumatized by it, and that’s pretty tragic tbh. I like the Zutara interpretation of Zuko inspiring Katara to think there are other uses for bloodbending (as a wielder of a potentially destructive element), but I think Toph could’ve had a conversation with her about other uses for bloodbending as well, since Toph is really creative with earth. Actually, I think Zuko or Toph or Sokka could’ve all had a conversation with Katara about coming to terms about doing things that one is not proud of & moving past them, but I guess Katara can only follow the rigid moral code of her Do No Wrong boyfriend. Anyway, LOK’s despicable treatment of ATLA’s female characters is nothing new, but Katara’s is the most obvious and egregious because she’s actually there. We have no idea what happened to Suki or Azula or Mai or Ty Lee, and what we do see from Toph is not great either (in what world would she retire to be lonely in a swamp when having her friends meant the world to her…). All the boys got to have cool fulfilling lives and all the girls who aren’t lost to history are sad sacks, thanks Bryke! On a non-sarcastic note, thank you anon for such an interesting question!

#katara deserved better #bloodbending #tagging for those that block them:#anti kataang #zutara #anti bryke #though this is an anti bryke blog honestly #my meta #can i ask you a question?

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pshcomforts · 10 months ago

Text

➳ back to the old house | psh.

highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

“and you never knew, how much i really liked you”

synopsis: since your senior year was coming to an end soon, you decided to be a little more bold by sending notes of encouragements to your longtime crush who was also your friend, park sunghoon.

warnings/content: written in third pov. heavy angst. no happy ending. cursing. not proofread. miscommunication. i’m gonna say sorry in advance.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: inspired by @snghnlvr’s sunghoon fanfic! fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: back to the old house by the smiths

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:20 ────────|─────────── -1:45

sunny skies beamed on the school grounds as y/n tiredly walked into the classroom that wasn’t her first period. her name wasn’t enrolled in that class but his was. she yawned as the early morning was still a new thing to her.

the exhausted girl reached into her bag, taking out her post-it notes she took out each morning to leave it on the desk that belonged to the boy she liked.

her heart was pounding out of her chest as she thought back to the words that’d been stuck in her late night thoughts. just simple words really.

┌── •✧• ──┐

hey sunghoon, how are you today?

if this is awkward, i’m sorry. don’t

give up when the time gets hard!

i’m always rooting for you! :)

— 0307

└── •✧• ──┘

she bit her lips in doubt. “should i stop with the notes..?” she mumbled.

it was her senior year, her last year to make memories and not regret a single thing. high school was ending in just four months for her, so she shouldn’t regret this, right? for the past few months, she had been leaving encouraging words on his desk as a way of confiding in her feelings.

before she could debate any further, rowdy noises were heard from the hallway — catching her attention that the boys were nearby. she was part of their friend group, along with her other three friends; but that didn’t mean they had to know about her crush on sunghoon.

shakily, her hands quickly placed the sticky note on his desk before she rushed out.

“hey y/n!” jay yelled out at the end of the hallway.

the girl turned back in a flash, not forgetting to hide away her neutral colored notes that would’ve been obvious. her eyes trailed to each boy in a second, leaving a lingering gaze on hoon, the boy that gave her butterflies.

“hi jay,” she beamed back.

“what were you doing in ms. lee’s class?” jake added in with an eyebrow raise.

she took a gulp as she cleared her throat. composing herself, she replied — “uhm i’m just looking for your bestie.” an awkward chuckle erupted from her as she pointed to heeseung.

he beamed a worried/confused look back at her. “min-su?“ the male shoved his hands into his jean pockets as the rest of the group looked at him.

“yep! i could never find that girl in the morning,” she uttered.

eventually, he nodded in agreement before replying — “i was just with her before going down the hallway with them. she’s in the classroom not too far from you.”

y/n nodded as if she was actually looking for her. “oh i see, thanks heeseung!” she swiftly moved past the rest of the members, blocking out the mumbles that left their mouths. one, however, getting through her ears as she could hear jake’s loud booming voice call out — “tell my girlfriend i’ll wait for her after class, yeah?”

as she left, the enhypen members chuckled to themselves before getting inside of the class. not all of them belonged in there, but most did so it was their go-to spot.

when sunghoon reached to his seat, his hand stopped to trail at the sticky note. “another one?” he said under his breath.

“another one again?” jake questioned aloud, catching everyone else’s attention.

the taller boy stiffly chuckled as he nodded. “wonder who this is..” he scanned around the room for the possible culprit, only to be dumbfounded with the answer as he found various students in their own worlds.

“still haven’t found out who it is?” jungwon asked, pursing his bottom lip out to showcase his dimples.

sunghoon nodded his head no as his cheeks started to take form of a blushing pink. “aww look, he’s starting to get a crush on the stalker.” jay teased with his shit eating grin.

hoon rolled his eyes as a response. “shut up, it’s creepy that they keep doing this.”

the group lightly chuckled together. “maybe the girls/dae know?” sunoo chimed in.

sunghoon’s head automatically peaked up at the mention of them. “the girls?”

“aye come on now, i’m sure hoon, here, doesn’t want his crush to know that he’s been receiving love letters. it might throw off what they have.” heeseung intervened with a smile.

“you still haven’t told her??” the youngest, niki, said with an eye roll.

“i’ve been trying to work on it!”

the maknae started snorting out laughter in return as he laughed with his whole body. “at this point, you’re not even gonna be able to tell her before the school year ends.”

“i’m doing what i can! she’s just.. really pretty.” hoon murmured in embarrassment.

“come on, y/n’s definitely not gonna like how you are with how shy you sound.” jake said with a click to the tongue.

the 5’11 boy shook his head as humiliation started to take over in his blushing cheeks. jay took notice and nudged his head — “we get it, you like her. let’s just ask them later, maybe y/n will get jealous and say something since sunghoon won’t.”

a few protests from the latter were made before the bell rang. some members scattered away as the rest began to take their seats.

within the same time frame of the boys conversing, y/n made it to her friend group a few classrooms down after leaving suspicions behind.

her breath heavily panted as she approached the three people she admired most. “hey guys,” she spoke with an exhale of air.

“did you just run the mile or something? why are you so out of breath?” dae questioned with his one brow raised.

“shut up,” she took another breath. “you know i’m always late.” but she wasn’t. the girl always arrived earlier than the rest to leave the post-its on his desk. her love notes toward sunghoon had been kept a secret from her closest friends as she couldn’t have it in herself to confess such an embarrassing thing.

“heeseung texted that you were looking for me?” min-su perked up.

“oh yeah, just looking for you guys cause you guys weren’t at the usual spot.” y/n lied, still taking deep breaths. “also, jake said he’ll wait for you after class.” her head nodded towards the boy’s girlfriend.

ji-woo furrowed her brows at the first few words that had spewed out of her. “uh girl, we’ve been coming here for the past few days.”

y/n’s body quickly tensed as she felt her hands go numb. “oh yeah… uhm, i just forgot.”

the three people exchanged her the same look of confusion before dae excused it. “okay anyway, so you saw the boys, that means you saw sunghoon right?” he had a mischievous grin on his face so that y/n could get what he meant.

in return, she rolled her eyes and lightly laughed. “yeah.. but you know i can’t talk to him anyway. i did see jungwon though.”

dae’s face contorted into disgust while his heart was thumping out of his chest — “jungwon?? why would i care about him?”

“he may be your academic rival, but we all know you guys like each other.” ji-woo chimed in

the two girls nodded in agreement as heeseung’s best friend spoke, “mhm, we always see it whenever we hang out anyway” — referring back to the big group hangouts.

“whatever! what we have going on isn’t important right now.” dae huffed out with a sigh.

the girls giggled with each other before the bell could ring. in a rush, dae and ji-woo situated themselves to their seats while min-su and y/n scurried out to their own classrooms.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when lunch came, the enhypen members and the girls (plus dae) met together in their usual spot. it was a big group, yes, but everyone was comfortable with each other. ji-woo and jake were dating, heeseung and min-su were best friends — having their own situationship, and jungwon and dae were academic rivals who remained to be in the same friend group. y/n and sunghoon were mutuals, not close with how introverted they were but just friends. they each had their own dynamic going on, creating a stronger bond within the group.

“the lunch is kind of good today..” ji-woo mumbled as she took a bite of her rice.

the group looked at her before letting quiet giggles fill their circle of people. “what??” she added on.

jake smiled at her, placing a soft peck on the cheek as he said, “nothing, just keep eating love.”

“ew, we’re eating right now. could you not?” min-su cringed.

“shut up! just go back to eating,” ji-woo retorted back to her.

a few, scattered chuckles were heard from the group as they went back to doing their own thing.

“you okay there, y/n?” jay asked with a mouthful of meat. he gave a light nudge to the girl as she went out of her spaced out daze. sunghoon’s gaze turned to the two, closely observing her body language.

“what? oh yeah, just tired.” she mumbled, giving an awkward grin to him.

he gave a soft scoff — “that sounded so fake coming from you.” y/n’s jaw dropped as she smacked him on the shoulder.

“shut up, it’s true! it’s just.. really hard to get up early in the mornings.” she truthfully spoke

“girl you don’t even come that early,” dae intervened with an eyebrow raise.

her eyes widened, awkwardly laughing it off as she said, “yeah but i still have to wake up early to drive to school! you know how it is with school traffic and all…”

dae slowly nodded his head, squinting his eyes before eventually giving up to agree with her.

“speaking of morning,” niki paused. “sunghoon got a sticky note on his desk again. you guys know who it is?”

hoon quickly trailed his eyes to y/n, giving her a look that screamed something along the lines of ‘i like you, not this creepy person.’ but she couldn’t bother to return the gaze as her head was low in humiliation.

“same person again?” min-su asked.

the boys nodded in unison. “yeah, they keep bothering him.” sunoo said while biting down on his spoon.

“any person you guys can think of?” jungwon chirped up.

y/n’s three closest friends exchanged a worried look at her, all having the same thought that she shouldn’t be hearing this because it might be breaking her heart. but they didn’t know that the culprit was her, so she tried to beam a smile to show that she was okay with hearing her crush receive love letters.

“it’s a little pathetic that they can’t even confess to me. doing it through a note seems kind of sad.. and desperate.” sunghoon suddenly added his thought. again, he slowly dawdled his eyes towards the girl but she didn’t even look at him. she couldn’t. those words caused a striking pain to the heart. he was trying to divert the potential thought she could’ve been having of if he liked the anonymous person or not. but he only made it worse.

she harshly bit her lips, pleading for no tears to show in her eyes as she looked around to distract herself. nobody noticed, or at least she felt like nobody noticed.

“i do admire their courage to put it on my desk though..” he shyly said with a blush to the ears. the words were a little comforting at least, but it wasn’t enough to make her feel better. his choice of words from before were still ringing in her ears as she felt her world crumbling down.

“that’s a little mean sunghoon…” ji-woo commented with an appalled look. “what if the person just can’t confess to you because they’re scared you might act the way you are right now?”

the boy’s eyes widened as he felt humiliation start to heat up in his cheeks. “that’s not what i meant..”

“yeah love, it’s just a little creepy that they keep sending him sticky notes.” jake explained, handing her the note so the rest of the group could see.

min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the girl who was trying to hold back her tears gathered around the note.

‘0307… those numbers look familiar..’ the three thought in their head. y/n shifted her eyes from the left to the right before she snatched the note in her hands. “no yeah, jake’s right, it is a little creepy. they should stop,” she said with a quiet sniffle.

“right, thank you y/n.”

her friends looked at her after she spoke, eyes laced with concern as they didn’t know how she was taking it — mad? jealous? upset? weirded out as well? they felt troublesome for the girl that this note from an anonymous sender was bothering her.

“mhm,” she confirmed back to jake with a firm head nod. “now excuse me, i gotta pee.” the girl got up with shaky legs as her breath hitched from the cry she forced down in her throat.

when she got to the bathroom, she breathed hard and heavy with her hands on the wall to stabilize herself. “that was humbling,” she mumbled to herself, feeling wet tears softly stain her cheeks.

“i’ll stop the notes then…” y/n confirmed with a heavy heart. her vision was blurry with the tears that remained in her eyes as she felt burdensome with the fact that sunghoon had just confirmed her way of confession to be weird. a few sniffles of the nose were made before she left the bathroom and returned to the group.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

months had gone by and senior year was reaching the end for the group. it was just finals left, and graduation would soon hit them.

within the time that passed, y/n avoided sunghoon in every possible way. he’d try to talk to her in the hallway? she’d pretend her airpods were too loud. he’d ask her about her day? she’d nod and mumble “it’s fine.” he’d try to sit with her at lunch? she’d move and find a spot next to min-su.

the girl honestly didn’t meant to come off as rude, but cutting off any contact with him meant that she’d be able to get over him much easier. her heart just tore apart from having to see him too often in the friend group that she distanced herself away from him. plus, they were never really that close to begin with so what would even have made the difference?

sunghoon, on the other hand, was left confused. from what he could recall, he didn’t do anything wrong. and to add on, no sticky notes were on his desk anymore. he didn’t know if the person just felt the need to stop but they did. however, even with all of his doubt, he still wished it was his favorite girl behind it.

he always felt his heart beating at the thought that it could’ve potentially been y/n. to give in to the thought that she possibly liked him back meant butterflies in his stomach. ‘but that’s pathetic’ — he’d think to himself, rationalizing that the girl had better things than him going on. like college; more specifically, a college outside of their hometown.

y/n got into the college of her dreams and sunghoon couldn’t have been happier as he remembered each time he’d observe from afar, watching her stress about each class but still managing farther than expected. he was proud. he knew the girl that he couldn’t call his would get in, but what did that mean for him?

“last day of school, this feels so sad.” ji-woo pouted with her bottom lip out.

“i don’t know whether to feel happy or sad to be honest.” dae chimed in

“hey you got to be with jungwon after all though, that’s good isn’t it?” y/n acknowledged with a soft grin.

the boy furiously shook his head to agree as he exclaimed — “it definitely is!” everyone giggled at the same time before he added on, “what about you, y/n? still a no with you and sunghoon?”

her lips pursed together as she nodded her head ‘no.’ “it’s best that i don’t confess, we’re already done with school and i’ll be parting soon anyway. he’s just a high school crush..” she tried to excuse with a smile.

“you and sunghoon are literally soulmates! you guys should’ve been dating already, jake and i strongly agreed on that.” said ji-woo with a clear scoff in her throat.

“well we’re not so.. but anyway, enough about me, min-su and heeseung are finally together after being best friends for god-knows how long!” y/n strongly shook the girl she had just mentioned to congratulate her.

“my hee and i are dating now, best believe it!” she exclaimed.

the group erupted in laughter as they continued through other topics.

“i’m gonna miss this, you know? the four of us together in one place. i’m gonna miss you losers,” y/n spoke with a shaky voice.

“shut up! you’re gonna make me cry!” ji-woo hollered from her seat.

the other two agreed as everyone’s eyes quickly watered. “i’m serious, i’m gonna miss this so much when i leave.” she confirmed, shaking her head to leave the tears behind. “once graduation happens, we’ll only have just a few weeks left.”

“BITCH shut up right now!” min-su yelled as she let tears run down her cheeks.

dae sniffled with a hint of red around his eyelids as he said, “you guys are gonna make me cry now!”

the group gathered into a hug as they let out soft sobs together. their last day of school was already an emotional train wreck.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the dreaded day had finally arrived. graduation came too soon before they could even process it.

as the principal was giving their speech, y/n sat in the front stands with her friends and the enhypen members. of course, she made sure to sit far from sunghoon — causing him to sit in the second row while she sat in the first row.

after getting her high school diploma, she sat down near her sobbing friends.

“park sunghoon,” the school staff announced.

her heart lit up with a shock at the name. she watched him go up to the stage and take hold of the paper in his hands. he beamed a bright and sweet smile toward the amidst of the crowd. she felt her heart softened as her eyes watered.

‘this is it,’ y/n thought to herself while taking a deep breath. ‘this is the last time i’ll ever see him at a school campus. the place where i fell in love with him.’

without even realizing, tears had fallen down her cheeks as she still watched him walk down the stage. once she took another breath of air, she felt her heart tear while a heavy weight had lifted off of her shoulders.

sunghoon’s eyes scanned around the stadium before letting it go to her. his demeanor softened and all he wanted to do was hug her goodbye. he knew it himself that she was leaving, and he didn’t want her to go. to him, she was his first love. even if they weren’t together and she was avoiding him, he could feel the mutual bond for their open-ended closure. the glance he gave to her was everything they both needed.

as the graduation continued, each member received their diploma as well. and with that, they graduated. the group had gone through everything together in their years of high school, and this was their ending. all that was left was their goodbye to the people who were leaving for college.

so when the time came, y/n was the first to go. she found it better to leave first so she could get over sunghoon quicker, and also not have a hard time with goodbyes to the others. she was only leaving for summer school but found it better to transition to the fall quarter right away — leaving no time to come back home in the time between.

the others were leaving too, but just at a much later time. ji-woo would head off in about two months, staying in a long distance relationship with jake. jungwon and dae were going to the same college together outside of their hometown in about a month; while min-su and heeseung were going to the same college as well but just in their hometown.

jay was leaving around the same time as ji-woo. sunghoon, sunoo, and niki would be going to the same college as min-su and heeseung.

with y/n being the first to go, a hangout was thrown in her favor on the day of. tears and weeping goodbyes could only be unfolded as they weren’t ready to see her leave. sunghoon especially. he tried to hold back his verge of tears, but he couldn’t, knowing that he was about to let his first love go.

when the time came and her family was parked outside, everyone couldn’t stop holding onto the girl.

“why do you have to go so early? you just hate us huh?” ji-woo incoherently mumbled through her sobs.

y/n gave a chuckle at her words — “i had to.” but she honestly didn’t have to. she was just leaving to make things easier on herself and everyone else.

“guess it’s time to go..” she murmured to everyone.

she hugged each person goodbye as she felt her hands tremble. it was a new beginning she was about to embark on, and she didn’t know how she’d be able to do it without them.

“goodbye min-su, i’ll miss you so much..” y/n flung her arms around the girl as she let tears drop.

“you bitch, why do you have to go?” min-su rhetorically asked, shaking her.

her lips curled into a smile as she moved onto dae. “goodbye dae, have fun with jungwon in college..” she mumbled while holding him into a tight embrace.

“don’t go, y/n!” he yelled, causing a laugh to be erupted from her.

the girl let go of him to move onto ji-woo. “goodbye ji-woo, i know you’ll do great in college.” she whispered against her ears.

“i’m gonna take you back with me, i swear.” jake’s girlfriend threatened back.

“shut up,” y/n uttered to her.

she then gave a hug to each enhypen member, letting them whisper sweet encouragements in her ear. sunghoon was the last, of course he was. he patiently waited for the girl to make her round as he felt thrilled to hug her but also heartbroken that it’d be their first and last hug.

after hugging niki, she finally reached him. her lips coiled into a soft smile as her eyes began to water.

“sunghoon..” she exhaled a heavy breath of hers. “i’ll miss you.”

y/n slowly let her arms wrap around his neck as his hands reached toward her waist. he groaned out a hurtful sigh as he reeled in her embrace. he was gonna miss this, miss her.

as he laid his head on her shoulder, she heard him give soft sniffles against her hair. “you’re leaving so early,” he softly joked.

they pulled away at the same time and she watched him light up with a half smile.

“can you give me your hand?” her hand reached out for his and he hesitantly gave it. when he felt their hands touch, his heart stopped for a second before rapidly picking up again.

in seconds, his hands were met with a papered texture. when he peaked his eyes open, his mouth opened in shock. it was the neutral-colored sticky notes he always received from the secret admirer.

before he could speak, she did it first — “it was me, funny huh?” she formed her lips into a line and lightly chuckled at his reaction. his eyes stared into hers as he felt quite lost and confused. everything in his ears were deafening out with each second he processed that it was her.

the group stayed quiet as they mirrored his expression. there were many words they could say but they couldn’t quite grasp onto it with how she had just revealed that it was her.

when y/n was about to say something herself, a honking from the car was heard — hinting that she needed to go.

“it’s time..”

her hand that held onto his lingered for a little more, praying that he’d hold her back or say something to confess. just do anything to show that he liked her back for that little figment of hope she had left. but he didn’t, so she walked away.

y/n waved goodbye to everyone and soon enough, her presence was gone and would be making its way to another hometown.

sunghoon froze in his place, feeling like his feet were glued to the ground as he replayed the words he said that made her stop sending the notes he secretly loved. he smacked his hand to his head as he knew things had now changed, only to realize that the last post-it note she gave were still in his hands.

┌── •✧• ──┐

surprise, sunghoon! sorry for being

so creepy, i didn’t know how to do

this, but have fun in college. i’ll always

be cheering for you from afar! this is

probably a little pathetic huh? lol :)

sorry if i made you uncomfortable,

but be safe :)

— y/n <3

└── •✧• ──┘

sunghoon’s heart shattered. he felt like such an idiot with how he treated the notes. he wished she was still here, he wished he confessed, he wished they had gotten together with how they liked each other. but he was too late. of course he was, because now, she was gone and he couldn’t do anything else. but after all, how could he hope for something that could’ve never been possible in the first place?

the relationship had been left with unsaid words that they couldn’t express to each other, and nothing could save it.

his hand crumbled up into a fist with how frustrated he got with himself. “fucking idiot,” he whispered.

“you really didn’t know?” dae asked with an eyebrow raise while placing himself near jungwon.

sunghoon only shook his head as he bit his lip, letting tears drop in a rush of seconds. “i’m late aren’t i?” he said, chuckling at his rhetorical question.

“afraid so hoon..” min-su confirmed, taking heeseung’s hand in hers afterwards.

his fist soon opened and found something scribbled on the back.

┌── •✧• ──┐

i love you sunghoon, but you’re

not mine.

└── •✧• ──┘

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

255 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 1 year ago

Note

i've been looking for weeks and months but can't find a single x male reader fic/au/etc... could u spare sum for the boys too😭🤲

ɪ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡ/ ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: max is over at daniel’s where they're supposed to be doing whatever best buds do. but somehow, the topic of his father comes up, and it brings max to a…realization of sorts. it also causes the two of you to argue, and for several discoveries to be made in the early morning hours; some of the depressing-kind, and some of the heartwarming-and-life-changing-kind. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: angst and fluff (hurt/comfort). argument. jos verstappen's a+ parenting. no beta we die like alphatauri's engines. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x male!reader (race not specified) 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: ivy • frank ocean

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i *usually* don’t write for male readers (as a cis woman idk i think it’s sus? idk, but maybe it’s not since i do support and love mxm ships, so maybe that’s hypocritical?)....but since it is my first request and max’s birthday (when i started writing this) i figured i could spare sum for da boys :)))) i scrolled through the tag and most of it was f1 x platonic!male!reader which is lowkey depressing, the boys deserve to simp wholeheartedly with us girlies ✊🏽 i hope “the boys” enjoy this and it makes the f1 x male!reader life a lil better! (you also didn’t specify who you wanted, so i went with max bc of his birthday) big shout out to the best kitties in the world, jimmy and sassy, for being great sports in this fic ☠️ they were wonderful setting devices! this is not an accurate description of max’s relationship with his father. we all don’t know what’s going on there, but it did become a wonderful plot point. so, it’ll probably be the only thing jos the boss is good for besides being max’s sperm-donor 🙂.

want to be added to my taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me a message !

prompts from @forestryprompts and @dumplingsjinson

it’s 3:23 AM, and you’re brutally jarred out of your sleep by your phone ringing. you’re disoriented–still in that sleepy “where the fuck am i” stage–and don’t quite catch the first phone call. a few seconds pass by without another call, and you’re convinced you hallucinated. usually, there’s only two reasons for you to be disturbed in the middle of the night. number one, when sassy “accidentally” presses all ten pounds of her body weight into your spleen with one paw; and number two; when max returns from partying, a late flight, or streaming. glancing around, you guess sassy is the bengal curled up on max’s side of the bed, gravitating to where his scent is the strongest as max is over at daniel’s; missing her favorite parent. and you guess that jimmy’s the heat source curled against your feet under the duvet, as that’s his favorite spot to sleep and his favorite place to prey on your toes. you lay straight back, head resting on your pillow and shrug, dismissing it as a problem for the morning.

then another call starts ringing through. now, you’re awake enough to start processing the important information. you always set your phone on dnd when going to bed, and there’s only a few numbers that are set to bypass it during sleep. this ringtone in particular, identifies the caller as max, which is peculiar. max doesn’t disturb your sleep unless absolutely necessary, he already feels guilty enough for doing so when traveling. with that thought, you reach for the phone with a reaction time you’d only relate to your boyfriend’s occupation.

you breathe out, “maxy, baby? are you okay? did something happen?”

a panicked and slightly desperate giggle slips out of the receiver, “heyyyy, it’s daniel, actually–”

“daniel?” you softly exclaim, sitting up in bed, worriedly continuing, “where’s max? did something happen? is he okay–”

“well,” daniel starts, “i wouldn’t say he’s ‘okay’, so to speak–”

“oh my god! what does that mean, daniel? i’m coming over right now give me like, fifteen minutes–” you say rushedly, already leaping out of the bed. jimmy yowls in shock of being disturbed, panically darting out of the duvet, and sassy shoots up–airplane ears activated and all.

daniel cuts you off, “NO! uh, no! i’m actually already on the way back to yours with him right now! he’s like- kinda drunk- tipsy i guess, one would say uh- but–”

“are you driving, daniel? if-if you’ve drank you should’ve let him sleep over, or called me to come get him if he’s being a menace!”

“no, uh-” daniel starts whispering, “we’re in an uber. ma- i mean- your boyfriend is kind of out of it, and not in a drunk way.”

“what the fuck,” you bite out, switching to hold the phone to your ear with your shoulder, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants (max’s) over your boxers, “does that mean, daniel?!”

“so, like,” daniel whispers even quieter, “hypothetically, we started talking about ma- sorry, his- wonderful childhood, and i guess me saying that seeing his father stabbing a mechanic with a fork isn't a normal thing to experience, kind of sent him into a spiral.”

“oh, fuck” you pause, while pulling one of max’s championship hoodies on.

“yeah, that’s pretty much what i’d say,” daniel sighs, “but, then um, he tried to like rationalize it to me? like, he’d bring up different crazy memories, and i’d be like ‘no, mate, that’s not normal either,’ and everytime he’d bring up a positive interaction with his dad, he realized it correlated to how well he performed, and he kind of um-shut down.”

“oh. fuck.” you repeat. sassy, in a rare show of solidarity, winds between your legs and mews gently at you as if she’s letting you know that she’s here. “um, well,” you say, running a stressed hand through your hair, “you should be on max’s list to come up to the apartment, but i’ll call down to give them a heads up. text me when you get here, please?”

“will do,” daniel perks up, “i’m sorry by the way. i should’ve left it alone, or distracted him away from the topic. but you know how he gets, probably better than me.”

now it’s your turn to let a depressing chuckle escape, “probably not, dan. i’ve known him for fourteen years and dated him for five of those, and he hasn’t done more than agree that his dad ‘isn’t perfect’” you wave your hand through the air, brushing the train of thought away, “anyways, i can get the spare room ready for you, so you don’t have to uber back?”

daniel nervously laughs, “forgive me for saying this, but i don’t really want to be present for whatever conversation is going to happen. or have to pretend like i’m unaware of anything. max would do his best to avoid me for as long as he can if he knew i was around, and i don’t want to risk that…after what happened when i left red bull.”

“yeah, you’re right. don’t forget to text me when you get here,” you state.

daniel’s text comes through when you’ve just gathered the ibuprofen and water bottles. you thumbs-up the message, and go to sit in the living room to wait for a knock on the door. you plop down on the couch and your leg bounces anxiously. jimmy gracefully hops up into your lap, and he must be an emotional support cat because he sits down on that leg, and leans into your torso butting his head into your chest asking for pets. you indulge him, a shaky laugh erupting, “thanks, jimmy,” and you lean down to press a few kisses to his cheeks. silence overcomes the room, and then three knocks break the still air in the apartment, and both you and jimmy jump off the couch and race to the entryway. you push jimmy behind you with a foot as you open the door, knowing damn well he’ll sneak into the hallway if given a chance.

max stumbles through the doorway first. his eyes are bloodshot with a cold and unseeing look glazed over them, red-rimmed and looking so distraught at tonight’s realization, that your heart aches for him. you wish you could take his pain away, or at least carry some of it for him. his hair is sticking out in different directions like he was anxiously tugging at it, but the most surprising observation is the tear tracks on his cheeks. max doesn’t cry, like at all.

well, that’s not exactly true. he’s one of the men that says crying is “strong” and not a sign of weakness when you cry and even encourages you to cry it out on his chest. but, when it’s himself, he refuses to cry until everything gets too much. he’ll come up to you and sit or stand pressed right up against you, grabs at and plays with your hand to let you know that he needs comfort, before he looks at you and softly asks with a cracking voice if he can have a hug. you always set aside what you’re doing as quickly as you can, because you’re not going to let an opportunity of caring for max in a rare vulnerable time pass, and pull him into your chest. even though he’s broader than you, he appears to shrink himself within your arms, and presses his face into your shoulder while he cries. his tears are always silent, but his body is loud; he shakes, and his hands grab at whatever you’re wearing in fists like he’s afraid that you’d slip out of his grasp.

anyways, you’ve never known him to really cry with other people. with a soft, “max…” you reach out to him, but he brushes right past your hand and goes straight for the bedroom. jimmy trots after him, and sassy falls into step from whatever pocket she was hiding in. you freeze, shocked at his behavior while also understanding, he’s had a life-changing realization that he’s never allowed himself to address. you feel guilty that you're jealous of the fact that he had it with daniel.

daniel clears his throat, still standing outside the doorway, “...you know he doesn’t mean to ignore you like that, right?”

you nod, “when did he start crying?”

“he held it together until we got into the uber, i think. he was turned towards the window the whole time and refused to look at me. i didn’t notice he cried until we got out.”

“are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? it’s late, dan. or at least let me get you the uber back” you offer again with a questioning look.

daniel refuses both options, “nah, don’t worry about it. i’ll make max take me to lunch one day to pay me back. i’d say good luck but that seems redundant. be gentle with him, alright?”

you sigh, “i’ll be gentle, dan. can’t say the same for him,” daniel’s face saddens more, “get home safe alright, dan? text me when you get there.”

“of, course,” daniel nods, “goodnight.”

you watch him walk into the elevator before closing the door. you turn the lock, and step forward until you can rest your forehead onto the cool wood. eventually, you push off the door and turn around to grab the water and ibuprofen from the settee and make your way to the bedroom. max is sitting at the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands.

pausing, you place the water and meds on the nightstand first, then you sit next to him and lightly place your hand on his upper back, attempting to rub between his shoulder blades to provide comfort. max shrugs your hand off. you pause, blinking a few times trying to discover the best course of action. you decide to ignore the second blatant dismissal of the night, and pull his hand off his face and push him to sit up straight. you forcefully straddle his lap, ignoring his grumbles, and grab his face, thumbs resting on his cheeks and directing him to look straight at you.

“max, you’ve got to communicate with me here. i was terrified, when daniel called me! you refuse to talk about your dad with me, which is fine, okay? but you have to talk to somebody. whether it’s me, daniel, a therapist, christian, or even fucking helmut marko—you need to talk to someone. you’ve repressed this shit your whole life, and when whatever film you had over your eyes when looking at your father slipped away, you shut down completely? that can’t happen again! i don’t want it to happen again…daniel sounded completely fucking terrified—like he was afraid he broke you or something. and if you’re scaring me right now with how-h-how out of it you look, i can’t imagine what it was like for him,” you finish, taking a few deep breaths. max doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly.

you make a distressed groan, both hands releasing max’s face to rub at your eyes and drag down your cheeks. doing so, you continue talking, “max. you don’t even have to talk, baby, not to me at least. i don’t care if you journal, if you meditate, if you go goddamn axe throwing; but, you need to see a professional. cause, how your brain is coping, and how you’re rationalizing it isn’t good. you aren’t the problem, nothing you could’ve done differently would have made your dad change; you are not the problem, max, he is. okay? i’ve known you for fourteen years, and not once have i pressured the topic after you said that ‘you’re fine,’ but, you have to at least promise me that you’ll start doing something.”

max parts his lips, thinking about what to say, as you fully sit on his lap. you look at him with wide eyes filled with worry—with care— and you’re anxiously playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck.

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“that’s not an option,” you state, with a furrowed brow, “can you at least tell me what caused the breakdown?”

and, that’s what gets get’s max going. his cheeks flush, and his eyes darken, and he starts talking with a firmer voice.

“it wasn’t a breakdown, first of all. i was just overwhelmed and overreacting. it’s nothing serious, like you’re pretending it is. i don’t need this—this false worry, showing up all of sudden when you know how the relationship between my father and i has been for all of the time we’ve known each other.”

you pull away, retreating off his lap and stand in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“false worry?? that’s what you think this is,” you start with an exasperated tone, “max, ‘for all the time we’ve known each other’ all you’ve done is deflect from my questions about you two, or tell me that everything is fine when it’s clearly not! and i gave you the space you wanted, because i was afraid that you’d stop talking to me, that you’d stop trusting me. but now, as your boyfriend, i can’t let it go unaddressed anymore!”

“you already did for fourteen years! it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to keep ignoring it.”

“because you asked me to, max! you didn’t want to talk about it then, and you need to talk about it now! i don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to share it with me, but it needs to be with somebody!”

“i already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!”

“that’s because i fucking care about you!”

“well, did i ask for you to care about me?”

you’re stunned silent. the room is filled with heavy breaths from the two of you. this might be the most serious argument you’ve had, in awhile, or ever.

it’s the third blatant dismissal of the night, and you’re calling it quits, daniel did tell you to be gentle, and if you keep going like this you’re word choice will become less gentle.

“you’re right,” you exhale, relaxing your clenched jaw, “you didn’t ask for me to care. and you shouldn’t have to ask for anybody to care. and, for some ‘unbelievable’ reason, i do happen to actually care,” you finish, your words dripping with exhaustion and defeat.

you walk around to the side of the bed, grabbing a pillow off the top and point at the nightstand, “the ibuprofen and water are for you. at least, finish one bottle before you go to bed, please.” you start walking towards the closet.

“wait,” max calls out, finally standing up with a confused look in his eyes, “why’d you grab a pillow?”

you grab a blanket out of the closet, and sigh, “i’m sleeping on the couch.”

“what? no-no you’re not,” max stutters out, disbelieving.

“uh, yes i am.”

“what, no! no, schatje, i’m sorry, please come to bed,” max utters out, looking absolutely heartbroken.

“i’m going to sleep on the couch, max,” you repeat, “if i go to bed, i won’t be able to not talk about it, and we’re clearly going to talk in circles about it. both of us are tired, frustrated, and mad, and we’re going to end up even angrier, so i’m going to sleep on the couch.”

max, crossing the room quickly, grabs at your waist with his large hands, and pleads, “if you’ve made up your mind about it, you can at least take the bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, schat.”

you, grab his hands off your waist, having to fight him a little bit for it (you may be a man, but your man is a professional athlete, you’ll be outmatched any day) and press them into his chest, “you’re still pretty drunk, max. i’ll let you take the bed so you can be comfortable, you seem like you’re going to have a pretty bad hangover, i can smell the alcohol on you still.”

max looks upset, but eventually concedes. you press your lips to his cheek, “i’ll see you in the morning, babe. then, with clearer minds we can talk, ‘kay?”

sassy baps jimmy on the face before nuzzling in between max’s legs, while jimmy makes to follow you out as you shut the door gently.

situating yourself on the couch, you squeeze your eyes shut. usually you’d be hugging max’s arm to your chest but tonight, jimmy is benevolent enough to leave his usual spot at your feet to fill in for max. even with the comfort the bengal’s purring body provides, you know you’re only in for a fitful night of sleep.

you wake up a few hours later, your body not able to keep you under for long you guess, as the early morning sun has barely started lightening the room. you take a minute to get your bearings, not used to waking up on the couch (in the past when you have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, you magically wake up in bed laying on top of your boyfriend, how weird), and jimmy is no longer laying with you. he’s with max, who’s sitting on his floor below you, with his back facing you.

you rub at your eyes and whisper, “max?” he startles, and turns around to face you. his eyes have fresh bags underneath, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and you can tell he hasn’t gotten any sleep. even though you got a couple hours of shut-eye, the matching bags under your eyes prove that your sleep was restless.

“hey,” he whispers back sheepishly, “i know you told me to go to bed, but i couldn’t fall asleep. i only came out here a few minutes ago though, and i was just going to wait until you woke up in the morning.”

you sit up straight, and pull max onto the couch with you, “max, what? you could’ve at least layed down on the other couch, and not sit on the–”

max cuts you off.

“i just…couldn’t go to bed alone tonight, okay? i still feel raw–i think is the word for it. i’m exhausted and cried out, and the only person who can make me feel better is you right now. so i was just going to sit here, and be next to you, without disturbing you like you wanted, because being in your general vicinity already makes me feel better, even if you're mad at me.”

your mouth is left gaping, and you feel guilty now, your chest aches. leaving max at a time where he was vulnerable, even if you were right down the hallway–

“and, don’t feel bad about your decision to sleep out here. you decided that space was the best course of action for you, and you are probably right, because i was ready to argue with you,” max continues rambling, “honestly, you sleeping out here made me realize that i never want you to be angry with me like that, ever again. at first, i was scared that if i opened up about my relationship with my dad you would think i’m weak, or that you'd judge me for it, or that you’d leave me. but when i was in the shower earlier, i got really…scared.”

he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and you don’t make to interrupt him.

“i got scared because i thought you left me right now. that you lied to me about sleeping on the couch, and you were actually planning to leave. and, obviously you did not, you are still here right now but, it made me realize that i do need to talk to you. and that the reason i thought you were leaving was because of how i thought i scared you away with my issues. but i realize now, that the way i’ll scare you away is by not talking about my issues,” he turns to look at you with an earnest expression.

“so, if you are okay with it, i will talk to you. about everything, even though it may take me some time to work up the courage. i am uncomfortable with talking to a…professional, but i will, if you truly think it will help me. but i do not want to risk the chance that my refusal to communicate costs me a lifetime with you,” he ends.”

you stare at him blankly, and max begins to fidget at your silence. you lean forward and pull him into a hug, tears gathering in your eyes. he nestles his head in the crook of your neck, and presses gentle kisses into your skin.

“max, all i want is for you to talk to me about it. i want to share the burden you feel, and understand you better than the back of my hand. most of all, i hope having somebody who understands you to that depth makes you feel lighter, and validates your emotions.”

max says something, but it’s muffled by your body.

“what was that, baby?”

max pulls away to look at you with bashful eyes and pinkened cheeks, “you know i can’t imagine my life without you.”

“likewise,” you respond, just as meek.

“no, really. i've fallen in love with you,” he continues.

“max, you told me you loved me years ago,” you say laughingly.

“no, like, i’ve fallen in love with you again. everytime i think i can’t fall any deeper, you manage to prove me wrong,” he says intensely.

you pout at him, hands coming up to feel at your heated cheeks, “oh, max! stop, you’re going to make me cry. that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. i fall in love with you again, everytime you finish a race, and come home to me. that you chose me as the man you want to see after a tiring race weekend, regardless of the outcome.

max smiles all teeth, “there’s no other person i want to share my highs and lows with. well, hopefully more highs than lows. i have the ring for you already, but i at least need to win eight championships before i retire so you’re able to marry a record-breaking champion. i am proposing to you this year though, i cannot wait any longer.”

you stare at him unseeing for a minute, and he looks awfully confused for a man who just announced his plans to give you his last name.

“max,” you start shakingly, “what do you mean you already have the ring?”

max’s carefree expression drops, and becomes pale, “what are you talking about? i never said anything about a ring–”

“you literally just did?! the part before you said you were proposing to me this year, and before becoming an eight-time world–”

max claps, cutting you off while standing up. he offers you his hand, “alright! we should go to bed now, right? together, yes that’s a great idea.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

Text

A Bumpy Road {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: Fake marriages, mentions of emotional alienation/affairs, fighting, drunk driving, death, feelings, injuries, mentions of surgeries, confessions, oral sex, vaginal sex, mentions of family planning

Comments: In order to stay on his team and keep his toxic ex in-laws from gaining custody of his daughter, Frankie does something crazy. He marries you, his friend. You need insurance and he needs someone to care for his daughter, ignoring how he feels about you until he ends up hurt on his deployment.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You have an idea, it’s outrageous, outlandish and completely insane but it might just actually work. You bite your lip nervously as Frankie paces in front of you, swiping his hands through his hair and it’s unusual to not hear the rasp of the shorter military high and tight he used to wear. Since being accepted into Delta, he had been allowed to grow his hair out past normal regulation, the need to look less like the soldier necessary for the ops he would be running. Unless he has to give up his entire career because of the three year old little girl currently napping in her room upstairs.

“How could they do this?” Frankie hisses, angry and frustrated. Scared that they actually could take his daughter from him, terrified they would. “They can’t do this. I just- I asked for help while I was deployed! Not to take her from me!” It had been a mistake to reach out, to talk about his upcoming deployment. The papers had been delivered by a court server today. He was being sued for full custody of his little girl by his late wife’s family.

Your mind races, trying to talk yourself out of the crazy idea but you can’t. It would work. Better yet, people who knew you would believe it. And Frankie could prove that he had care in place for his daughter, stability. The military would get off his back and his former in-laws would have no case. The bonus would be that you would have health insurance for the first time in years. “Frank.” You murmur quietly, following his frantic pacing. “Frankie!” You call louder, getting his attention this time as he stops mid-turn to look at you. “Marry me.”

His eyes widen, absorbing your words, and he thinks back on how damn long he’s been in love with you. It’s hard to think about but he nods, knowing that this is smart. You need your meds and the insurance will get them for you. He needs a caretaker for his daughter that isn’t his toxic former in-laws. “You’re a genius.” He declares and cups your cheek to kiss your forehead. “God, how - you are a goddamn angel, baby. That’s perfect. We can - we can get married before I deploy and then Ana can have someone - are you sure you want to take over caring for her? I know you babysit and when I’m away but - full time? It’s a lot of work.” He says, lowering his hands from your cheeks.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m not nervous.” You chuckle and melt at the soft, grateful expression in his warm eyes. “But she’s a good kid. And there’s the daycare, so I can still work.” The more you think about it, the more that you know it’s the right thing to do. “Ana loves me, and I know you don’t want to lose her or give up your spot on the team. The boys need you.” The fact that you have very strong feelings for Frankie doesn’t need to factor into this. “I say we get married quickly so you can let your in-laws know that it’s a losing case.”

Frankie can’t believe you’ve agreed to do this and he knows he will owe you for the rest of his life. He can’t lose his daughter but he also can’t leave his friends, his brothers, to go into danger without him. “I want you to pick a dress. I’ll pay for everything. Rings too. I- I want it to be us and Ana. No one else. She loves you already and I- are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, reaching for your hands to squeeze them.

“It’s not completely altruistic.” You remind him, knowing that he is aware of your need for health insurance. “I want to do this. I know we need to take care of things, power of attorney and things like that, but I want to help you, Francisco.” You promise quietly, imagining a small courthouse wedding with the handsome soldier. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure. We’re friends. It’ll be easy.”

Frankie nods, knowing you know him inside out, even the dark things he hides from the outside world. The dark sins he has committed. He leans in to kiss your forehead, “I think so too, I- I can’t believe I’m saying this but - but I can’t wait to marry you.” He smiles as he pulls back. You are his best friend and as much as he tries to deny it, he’s in love with you. He knows you’re better off in the dark on that particular sin. It wouldn’t benefit you to know that. His late wife knew and that’s what killed her.

****

“Janet, please. Just calm down, sweetheart.” Frankie pleads, following his wife down the hall. Ana is crying, woken up by the screaming, and Frankie is desperate to deny what Janet is accusing him of.

“You’re fucking in love with her! Just say it. I- you didn’t love me. Did you? It’s always been her.” Janet screams down the hall and Frankie shakes his head, unable to answer. When Janet got pregnant, he was just about to be called up for a deployment and he knew he had to do the right thing and marry her. He loved her, he did. In his own way. He can’t love her like he does you, though. You are the sun, the moon, the stars. Everything to him. He had done the right thing and married Janet but she was never you. When Ana came along, she became his world and he stayed for her, fought for her.

When Frankie doesn’t answer again, Janet shakes her head. “I knew it. You bastard! You shouldn’t - you shouldn’t have married me. It’s over Frank. It’s done. I- fuck. I gotta - I gotta go.” Janet says, rushing towards the front door.

“Wait. Don’t. You can’t fucking drive. You’ve had three glasses of wine.” Frankie growls, having long accepted that his wife became an alcoholic in his absence, drinking when the nights were lonely and Ana wouldn’t stop crying. He didn’t realize it until he came home from that first tour.

“I’m fucking leaving otherwise if I stay in this house, I’m gonna kill Ana.” She threatens and Frankie growls, grabbing her purse.

“You fucking - threatening the life of our daughter? You- I know you’re hurt but you’re a - get the fuck out. Go kill yourself on the goddamn road for all I care.” He growls, shoving her purse at her. She doesn’t say a word as she leaves and Frankie watches her drive down the street.

Little did he know that he’d be getting a call an hour later to tell him that his wife had died in an accident, driven into a tree. He was upset, mostly for Ana, for the mother she’d never get to have. Janet looked after her well-being but was never affectionate or caring. Now she has no mother at all. “I’ll be right there.” He promises the cop and the next number he dials is yours. “Hey. Yeah, um, I know it’s late but can you come over? I need someone to watch Ana for me. I’ll explain when you get here.” He says and hangs up after you agree. His wife just died but his heart still beats at the sound of your voice. He’s committed many sins but tonight might just be the worst of all.

****

“You don’t need to be nervous.” You remind yourself as you look in the mirror, hands trembling as you lean towards the glass and smudge a little more of your eyeliner into place. “It’s Frankie, he’s not- he doesn’t actually love you.” That stings more than you thought it would as you wear the white tea dress you had picked out to get married in. Feeling like a bride and yet not one all at the same time. It’s going to be just ten minutes before Frankie will be here to drive you to the courthouse to exchange vows. The marriage certificate is ready to be signed by the magistrate that will officially declare you Mrs. Francisco Javier Morales. The knock on the door startles you, and you look towards it before glancing back in the mirror. “It’s time.”

When you answer the door, Frankie’s breath is taken away from him. You look devastatingly beautiful. “You look so pwetty.” Ana grins up at you and you look at her in her little white flower girl dress that is similar to yours, her hair done in what looks like an attempt to style it by Frankie.

“She’s right. You look - you look incredible.” He says, his dark eyes meeting yours and he offers you a boyish grin.

Frankie is wearing his uniform, you had asked him to but it’s impossible to think of anything but how handsome he is wearing his medals. “Not nearly as incredible as you.” You reach out and your finger strokes his jaw. “You shaved.” Your finger grazes his lip and you pull back, aware that if you keep touching him, you will want to kiss him for real. “Every single woman in town is pissed at me today.” You promise.

Frankie suppresses the shiver that runs through him at the way you caress his face and he knows it’s going to be hard not confessing how he feels. He knows you only think of him as a dear friend and even if, by some miracle, you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to look past his sins. He’s not good enough for you. He blushes and clears his throat, “alongside every man.” He counters and Ana tugs on your hand, “daddy got me petals.” She holds up the basket that she insisted Frankie get her. She had heard about flower girls from her friends in pre-school and she insisted Frankie let her throw the petals down before you walk down the aisle. “I know it’s only a courthouse wedding but Ana wanted to make it special.”

“Thank you, Ana.” You bend down to look the little girl in the eyes, knowing how excited that she is. For her, this is exciting and fun, something that she will play with her friends the next time she sees them in school. “You are the prettiest little flower girl I have ever seen.” You promise, making her smile and you reach out to cup her little cheek. “Now I know your daddy talked to you about it, but how would you like me to come stay with you and daddy? Help him make breakfast and do your hair? Would you like that?”

Ana nods, her eyes wide, “yes! Daddy never gets my hair right.” She says with a pout, “are you my new mommy?” She asks and Frankie had spoken to her about this. How you were going to come live with them, how you were going to be his new friend and that her mommy was still with her. He hates how selfish Janet was to drink and drive and the guilt he felt when she died after he all but forced her into the car, but there was something in her eyes. He’s seen that look before. She would’ve hurt Ana and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I-” You frown slightly, unsure of what to say to the young girl. “I would like to be your friend. A good friend. But I also don’t want you to feel like I am trying to become your mommy unless you would like that.” It might be a little more than a three year old understands, but you don’t want her to feel like she has to forget Janet.

Frankie kneels beside his daughter, “your mommy is your angel, remember? She’s gonna look after you.” Frankie smiles and says your name, “she’s gonna be your friend when daddy is gone fighting the bad guys, okay? You are safe with her and she loves you as much as daddy does.” Frankie knows his job is much more complicated than good guys and bad guys but it’s how he can explain to a three year old that he’s gonna be gone for so long. He hates missing huge parts of her life but he can’t let his team down.

“Okay daddy.” She hands him the basket and steps closer to wrap her small arms around your neck.

You smile at the two of them together and you know that you are doing the right thing. You are giving Frankie the opportunity to keep his daughter here with him so he can come home to her when he can. “Are you ready to go throw the petals down, sweetheart?” You ask softly. “I bet daddy will take us out for ice cream after.”

Ana grins and nods, squealing “lets go!”

Frankie chuckles and stands up, holding his hand out to his daughter and he winks at you, “lets go get hitched, baby.” You smile and he holds his arm out to you, guiding his girls to his truck.

****

Ana beams as she tosses the flowers on the floor, Frankie would say in heaps more than scattered but he chuckles and she comes to stand beside him. When you walk down the small aisle, Frankie exhales shakily, his heart pounding and he’s certain you can tell he’s sweating. When you stand in front of him, you beckon Ana to stand between you and Frankie knows he’s made the right choice for his daughter. It’s always been you.

The magistrates ceremony is brief and you barely remember any of it, grinning like an idiot as you stand there with Frankie, imagining if this were actually real. “Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?” He asks, making you swallow harshly before you squeeze his hands. “I do.” You promise clearly.

Frankie nearly yells “I do” but manages to control himself, staring into your eyes as the officiant declares you husband and wife. “You may now kiss the bride.” Frankie knows this could be the only chance he gets to kiss you so he leans in to cup your cheek, pressing his lips to yours and he is firm but not demanding. It’s not brief but it doesn’t drag, despite Frankie wanting to pull you against him and slide his tongue into your mouth. This is an agreement between friends and nothing more. He pulls back and smiles, looking down at Ana between you who looks happy. This feels right. After signing the marriage certificate, Frankie takes your hand to guide you and Ana back to his truck. “I - I hope you don’t mind…it was supposed to be a surprise but the guys put together some food and drinks at Tom and Molly’s.

“Really?” Your mouth drops open in shock and you smile when he nods. “Oh my god, that’s so sweet.” You gush before you frown. “Wait.” Twisting in your seat, you watch as Frankie buckles Ana into her car seat. “Do they- uh, know what the situation is?” You ask softly, unsure of what you can say around them.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He finishes pulling the strap up Ana’s chest and looks over at you. “I wanted them to be able to truthfully say they believe it is real.” He explains, making you nod in understanding. There’s the possibility that Frankie’s in-laws could still come for custody or challenge the validity of the marriage and it’s better if everyone thought this was real. “Got it. Happy newlyweds.”

Frankie is grateful that you’re going along with this. He knows it benefits you too but it’s a lot to ask, to pretend to be married to him. The drive to Tom’s house is quiet and when you knock on the front door, Molly opens it with a “congratulations!” You grin and Frankie holds your hand and Ana’s as he walks inside. All of his team are there, several of your mutual friends, and Frankie is blushing when they shout “congratulations.”

“Hot damn!” Benny bellows, making you automatically grin as the younger Miller brother bounds into view. “Fish got married! You son of a bitch, you hid it from us!” He tackles Frankie in a bear hug while Molly pulls you in for a hug. “What? Afraid she’d see me in my dress uniform and run off with me?” Ben teases, pulling back to grin at his friend before he scoops you up in a hug. “She wouldn’t have done that? Would you, sweetheart? You’ve been in love with ole Fish for years.” Benny teases.

Frankie picks Ana up, not wanting her to be excluded and he tries to ignore the comment, aware that people have thought you and him have been in love with each other for years. It’s true on his side but he doesn’t fool himself into thinking you love him as more than a friend. “Shut up Benny, my wife has good taste.” He jokes and Pope walks over.

“Couldn’t pick a best man so you decided to do it solo?” Pope jokes and Frankie gives him a one armed hug.

“Uncle Pope!” Ana cheers as Santi takes her into his arms, “hey chiquita.” He kisses the cheek of his goddaughter.

Frankie smiles, turning towards Will. “You finally did it, huh? You convinced her to marry you, you son of a bitch.” He chuckles and Frankie hugs his friend.

“Guess so.” He grins as you greet your friends and they admire the ring Frankie had bought you. He had spent quite a bit of money on it, wanting to make something about this situation real.

The party is fantastic but after a few hours you are ready to leave. Not because anyone is rude, but the jokes about you being pregnant before Frankie leaves for deployment and giving Ana a sibling just curl in your stomach. Knowing that you are never going to have that with your husband because he didn’t marry you for love. He married you for Ana and to fight off his in-laws. With the little girl passed out against her father’s shoulder, you use that as an excuse. “We need to get her home. Today was a big day for her.” You tell Molly when she offers to keep Ana overnight so you and Frankie can have some time alone. “I think we will settle in better if she’s there with us.”

Frankie nods, aware that he won’t be getting a wedding night. He’s not that stupid. He would never ever ask it of you. “She’s right. I want Ana to feel settled since we are leaving soon.” He says and rubs your back with his free hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” He murmurs and he keeps Ana in his arms while he says goodbye to his friends, knowing he will see them soon.

In his truck, you look over after he’s pulled away from Tom and Molly’s. “We didn’t discuss sleeping arrangements.” You realize, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I can stay at my apartment until you leave, but I would rather Ana get used to me being there.” You admit. “Or I can stay in the guest room if you prefer? When Ana notices that we aren’t sleeping in the same bed, you can say that you don’t sleep well beside me? Or….” you bite your lip, imagining curling up next to him. “We are both adults. We can sleep next to each other, right? You have a king sized bed.”

“We can share a bed. We are adults. Not like we haven’t before.” He reminds you of when he used to get drunk and end up in your tiny one bed apartment, seeking solace and a late meal after a night out with the boys. “Besides, I think it would be best if Ana thinks this is real. I want her to think that this is real so she is happy with you. Not that I don’t think you’re not - you know what I’m saying, right?” He asks as he drives to his house.

“I know what you mean.” Reaching out, you pat his hand and give him a smile when he looks over at you. “It’s a good thing we’ve started carting some of my things over, right?” You have every intention of selling most of your things, since Frankie’s is already established and your furniture holds no sentimental attachment for you. “We can go get my ID and everything tomorrow. Get me set up in the system as your wife?”

Frankie nods, “yeah. We will sort everything out tomorrow.” His heart pounds in his chest at hearing you call yourself his wife and he swallows harshly, knowing that nothing can be done. For your sake and Ana’s. He can’t fuck this up by letting his feelings get involved. He sighs and pulls into his driveway, killing the engine and he’s careful as he takes Ana out of her car seat.

As Frankie takes Ana to lay her down, you take the bag that Frankie had brought over into the master bathroom so you can change out of your wedding dress into some comfortable pajamas. They aren’t fancy or sexy but you had bought some new, cute sleeping clothes since you would be sharing a house with Frankie. Washing the makeup off and taking your hair out of the careful style you had put it in for the ceremony. Looking more like your normal self when you open the door to find your new husband in the bedroom you will share.

Frankie is carefully hanging up his uniform when he sees you and his heart clenches at how fucking beautiful you look. He feels guilty that he’s got you in this situation, in a marriage of convenience when you deserve all the love in the world. He strips down to his boxers, pulling a plain shirt out to pull on. “You want some water?” He asks, clearing his throat and you nod so he ventures into the kitchen, exhaling shakily to force himself to calm down. This isn’t a real wedding night. “Here you go, sweetheart.” He says and hands you the glass.

“Thank you.” You sit on the end of the bed and take a sip of the water, trying to calm your nerves and you sigh. “I know that this is- that we aren’t actually together, but I want you to know that I’m not going to embarrass you while you are deployed.” You tell him. It's been a long time since you’ve dated but just because you aren’t really Frankie’s wife in all senses doesn’t mean you are going to mess around with anyone. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

Frankie comes to sit down beside you, reaching for your hand. “I- I know this isn’t easy but if you do meet someone…you need to tell me and we end this. I shouldn’t - I don’t want to get in the way of the rest of your life. I love you - for - for doing this for me, and I will never be able to repay you. You’ve helped me keep Ana and I’ll forever be in your debt. I can’t - I can’t hold you back if you find someone and want to live your own life.” It kills him to say it, hating the thought of you with anyone else but he can’t be selfish, not when you’ve done so much for him.

It’s hard not to immediately assure him that you would never meet anyone else. Not when you are in love with him and no one has ever stood up against Frankie in your heart. Instead, you nod. “And I want you to do the same thing. You deserve to be happy, Frankie and when you meet someone that does that for you….” You give him a weak smile and go for a joke. “It will be the easiest divorce in the history of divorces.”

Frankie chuckles softly, his heart sinking but he ignores that and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long day and I know Ana will be waking us up with excitement to have our first day together. I want to do as much as I can with her before I leave. Tomorrow, let’s go get you in the system and go for breakfast.” He says and lets go of your hand so he can slide under the covers.

Frankie has his side of the bed established, so you climb in on the other side. Knowing that you don’t mind it and you are thankful that his bed is comfortable. “It was a good wedding, Frankie.” You murmur as you lay down beside him. “Thank you. For not thinking that I was crazy.” You grin at him, knowing that he is also thankful you are willing to do this. “Goodnight hubby.”

“Goodnight wifey.” Frankie chuckles, leaning over to turn the lamp off and you curl up, falling asleep pretty quickly. He doesn’t. Staying awake and listening to your soft snores, murmurs, and breathing. His heart aches for you, to curl around you and breathe you in. He can’t ruin this. You don’t feel the same way, you want the insurance and to help him out. It takes a while but eventually he falls asleep, unaware that he had ended up doing the thing he was trying to avoid: curling around you.

Waking up in Frankie’s arms is a special kind of hell. Because you know that this is only because he’s asleep and not because he’s decided that he wants you in the middle of the night. Even if the very prominent hardness pressed against your ass makes you want to pretend that he does. The good thing is that Frankie is a heavy sleeper when he’s home so you manage to wiggle away from him before you wake him up. “Morning.” You huff when he starts to stir. “I have to pee, go back to sleep.” You urge softly.

He grumbles, hugging the pillow you were sleeping on, inhaling your scent from it, and he falls asleep again, wanting to make the most of this time at home. When you walk into the kitchen, you decide to get a start on making some coffee and eventually, Frankie wakes up, rolling onto his back and willing his morning wood to disappear. When the mental attempt is fruitless, he gets into the shower. Groaning as he wraps his hand around his cock, he remembers the dream he was having of you underneath him, celebrating your wedding night for real.

In the kitchen, you are reminding yourself that Frankie is just a man who wakes up with a hardon. It doesn’t mean that he wants to throw you up on the counter and fuck you. Deciding that you will make a small breakfast for Ana, giving Frankie some space and allowing you to cool down.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Frankie groans, jerking himself as his cum paints the shower wall. He’s lost track of how many times he’s imagined fucking you while in this shower. After cleaning off the shower and himself, Frankie brushes his teeth and shaves, getting dressed just in time for you to finish Ana’s breakfast. “Thank you for doing that.” Frankie says and fixes himself a cup of coffee after he sees you already have a cup.

“Of course.” Ana squawks over the baby monitor, obviously just waking up and you smile. “Do you want to get her or do you want me to start getting into a routine?” You ask, before you answer your own question. “Let me get her. I’ll be right back.”

Frankie watches you go, sipping his coffee and smiling as he listens to Ana sleepily say good morning on the monitor before she realizes you’re still there and she is excited, telling you how she wants to make cupcakes and show you all her dolls. It makes Frankie feel comforted that his little girl will be looked after while he’s gone. “Morning baby girl.” He greets her when she walks into the kitchen, eyes still sleepy and he picks her up to kiss her cheek.

“Daddy. I want pancakes.” She demands and Frankie chuckles, “we will get pancakes later baby.” He says your name, “she made you some eggs for now.”

Ana frowns slightly and shakes her little head. “I no want eggs.” She pouts, crossing her arms and you try not to smile at the ferocious little look on her face.

“Oh, well..” you sigh softly, “I guess you don’t have to eat the eggs. Even though they give you lots of energy to play.” You tell her softly. “Especially since this is just supposed to be first breakfast.”

“First breakfast?” She pipes up and Frankie nods, “yeah. Pancakes are second breakfast. But only if you eat the first breakfast. You wanna show off all your dolls, right baby girl? You gotta have energy to do that and eggs give you that.” Frankie explains to his daughter who lowers her arms.

“With ketchup.” She insists, walking over to you.

Laughing, you turn back towards the refrigerator. “Eggs with ketchup, got it.” You don’t miss the way Frankie winces and you wonder if it’s something that she had learned from Janet. Frankie’s first wife had never hidden the fact that she hadn’t liked you, so you had tried to give her the distance she wanted, though you weren’t going to stop being friends with the guys or Frankie for her. “After you eat, I’ll help you get dressed and we will do your hair, how does that sound?”

Frankie is reminded of Janet, who he used to make fun of for having eggs with ketchup and she used to make it for Ana when she started eating solids. “Can I have braids?” She asks, wanting to have her hair different from the styles Frankie just about manages to put together. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say and Frankie smiles as he watches Ana hug your leg.

Breakfast goes easy for Ana and you leave Frankie to clean up the kitchen while you and Ana go to get ready. The young girl sitting extremely still for a three year old, excited for her braids. You don’t blame her. The dolly she had introduced you two had braids and she wanted to look like her. Making her gasp in the mirror when she looks at her reflection.

When Ana comes out, squealing happily about her braids, Frankie ooohs and awws and tells her how pretty she looks. He winks at you, “you did a good job, baby.” He says and he doesn’t even think about the nickname he calls you and Ana admires the braids. “You wanna get ready and I’ll entertain the little lady?” Frankie suggests.

“Thanks.” You nod and try not to take his nickname to heart. It’s just practice for when you are in public and around others. “I’ll try not to be too long,” you promise, turning and heading towards the bedroom where your bag is. You need to shower and plan on doing just basic makeup for your ID photo.

****

Frankie glances over at you while he drives, admiring your profile in the sun and his gaze drops down to his ring on your finger. It makes his heart twist that he didn’t propose to you properly but again, he’s reminded that this isn’t real. “You got everything?” He asks while looking in the mirror at Ana who is admiring her Barbie.

“Social security, birth certificate, marriage certificate, driver’s license.” You go through all your documents and grin. “Yep. Although now I need to change all of that too. To reflect the last name Morales.” Your stomach twists pleasantly and you remind yourself that you are a Morales in name only. “Plus a passport change. That’s the one I dread.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll have the insurance soon. Do you have enough meds to last?” He asks, knowing you have been halving the dose and he hates that, seeing how it has taken a toll on you. You aren’t your usual self and he wants to see you’re okay before he leaves.

“Yes.” You bite your lip and reach for his hand on the gear shifter. “Thank you Frankie. This is- I am grateful. I hated choosing between my medications and eating sometimes.” You hate how expensive it is to live when you don’t have health insurance and your job does not provide employer insurance since you are technically a contractor.

Frankie exhales, hating that you have to even choose. “Fucking country.” He huffs under his breath, knowing that he fights for freedom but those freedoms don’t allow you to have what you need when you desperately need it. He pulls into the parking lot of the administration building and comes around to open your door, helping you out before he moves to unbuckle Ana.

“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heat up from Frankie’s attention to manners. You grab the diaper bag just in case and the three of you make your way to the first office to have you officially added to Frankie’s record as his wife and dependent. You will have to memorize his social security number because that is how they will give you the services you need from now on.

Frankie remembers adding Janet to his file when she was newly pregnant before he was first deployed and he squeezes your hand as you walk out, officially added as his dependent. He will call his lawyer later to tell them about the wedding so he can get Janet’s parents to drop their custody case. For now, he’s going to take his family to breakfast.

****

“Silly daddy!” Ana giggles when he puts the empty glass to his eye and pretends to look at her through it. Pancakes eaten and bellies full, he hasn’t been this happy in a long time, glancing at you when he lowers the glass from his face.

Frankie is such a good father and it makes your heart pound. Imagining that you are a real family and wishing that you could be looking forward to giving Ana a little brother or sister. “Daddy is silly.” You tease, sending him a smile.

He chuckles, reaching for your hand so he can caress the ring with his thumb. “Daddy is silly!” Ana giggles and leans into Frankie’s side. He cuddles her with his free arm, knowing it’s going to be hard to leave but he has to, he can’t abandon his brothers.

****

“Is she asleep?” You ask as Frankie walks into the kitchen.

“Out like a light.” He tells you and groans in appreciation when you hand him the bottle of beer. He leaves in a few days and tomorrow he begins to prep for his departure. He has one last night to spend with you in relaxation.

“You wanna finish that show?” You ask and he nods, watching you dish up the pasta that you’ve been cooking after giving Ana her simple buttered noodles earlier.

“Sure baby.” The nickname comes naturally now and it slips off of his tongue without thought.

Your evenings have been so natural, perfect together. The friendship between the two of you had made it easy to be around each other and the only thing that you are struggling with is to not try to jump Frankie. He’s so sexy, especially when he comes home in his uniform. Waiting until he’s asleep to touch yourself while you are laying next to him at night or using your toy in the shower before Ana gets up is the only relief that you are getting. Bringing the pasta over to the couch, you sit down beside him and hand him his bowl. “Hopefully we figure out if they are going to get together this episode. I don’t want to wait until next season to find out.”

“Probably not. It’s the waiting that makes the end result sweeter, don’t you think?” He asks, thanking you for the food and he hits play on the show. “Fuck, this is good.” He groans after swallowing the first bite. You are a damn good cook and he is going to miss your food when he’s got MREs on the menu. You eat in companionable silence, it’s comfortable and he loves that he can just be himself around you. Janet’s parents were furious to hear Frankie had married you, having heard from their daughter about how she thought he loved you more than her. Still, they didn’t have a case anymore so it was dropped

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind.” You start as you turn towards him. “I told Ana that we will drop you off together. She wants to see you off and I couldn’t say no. I think it will help her understand why daddy has to be gone for a long time.” You know this will be the first deployment that she will remember and you want it to be as good as it can for her. “I also got you one of those recordable books. You know? The ones that we saw in the toy store? That way you can read her bedtime story anytime she’s missing daddy.”

Frankie swears he falls in love with you even more in that moment. Watching you with his daughter, how caring you are, how much you love her, it makes him want to stay and just spend the rest of his life with you, not missing a moment. When you were in the kitchen baking cookies with Ana last weekend, he imagined you pregnant with his child and it’s almost too easy to envision. “Yeah? That’s a great idea. I’ll do that tomorrow when she’s napping. I-I’m worried that she’s gonna forget all about me.” He admits his deepest fear, knowing he could potentially leave his daughter an orphan if he were to die on this deployment. It keeps him awake at night.

“I’m not going to let that happen.” You promise him softly, reaching over and taking his hand. “You have your will set up, you know I will make sure that if something happens, she knows all about her wonderful father, Francisco Morales.” You bite your lip. “Maybe you can record some videos for her? Send them to my phone to show her when she’s needing to see your face?” You know that video chatting will be sparse, sometimes impossible, but you want to make sure that she remembers him. “And we are going to be making you care packages.”

He smiles, unshed tears stinging in his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “You are amazing. I- I know this is - this is hard but I want you to know that I love you. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t do any of this without you.” He admits, “I owe you everything, baby.” He blinks and a tear escapes, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability, knowing that you’d never think of him as weak or not enough. He trusts you implicitly.

Your heart aches because you know that he doesn’t mean ‘love’ like you wish that he would. Still, you swallow down your feelings and lean over to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Frankie.” You promise him quietly. You do, you love him with everything that you are and you always will. “I promise you that I will hold down the fort until you can get back home.”

****

It’s early and Frankie knows Ana is sleepy but she insists she comes to say goodbye to her daddy. The enormous hangar is full of families saying goodbye to their soldiers, some for the first time, others are well practiced in this. Frankie adjusts his pack over his shoulder when he sees his team. Tom saying goodbye to Molly and the girls, Will and Benny saying goodbye to their mom. Pope saying goodbye to his current girlfriend. “Come here, baby girl.” Frankie says, bending down to pick Ana up after setting his pack down once he’s standing with the team, not wanting to tear up in case it upsets his daughter more than it should.

“Daddy, I don’t want you to go.” Ana sniffles and you reach over to rub her little back. She had been very brave while Frankie was packing and had even stuffed a picture she had drawn for him in one of the pockets. “I want you to stay with mommy and me.”

Frankie has mixed feelings, so happy that Ana is comfortable enough to call you mommy but he’s sad that she doesn’t remember Janet. As much as he resented her mother for what she became, he wants Ana to know her mother. Your eyes widen slightly and he knows he will email you to discuss this when he can. Now isn’t the time or place. “I know, baby girl.” He kisses her hair, “but I can’t stay. I gotta go fight bad guys, remember? You’ll be safe here with mommy and I promise you, I’ll come home as soon as I can. I will call you as many times as I can. I love you. So much.” He chokes a little and swallows the lump in his throat.

You know that it’s important for you to kiss Frankie goodbye, everyone around would expect it. You lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’m going to miss you. We are going to miss you. Take care of yourself please.” You beg him quietly. “Come home to us.”

Frankie doesn’t know if he will come back and he nudges his nose against yours, “I- can I kiss you goodbye? Properly?” He asks, knowing it’s important for him to show you are his wife to anyone watching. You nod, unable to speak, and he cups your cheek, pressing his lips against yours. It’s brief but he tries to pour as much into it as possible. Ana clings to him as he nudges his nose against yours again before he pulls back. “I’m going to miss you, baby.” He tells you, adjusting Ana on his hip and he gets the minute warning to say goodbye.

Taking Ana, both you and she give Frankie a tearful goodbye, another fierce hug before he is walking away. His daughter is clinging to you as you both wave frantically as he boards a bus to take them to the plane. “Okay, baby girl.” You murmur softly, stroking her back as the little girl tucks her face against your neck. “We’re going to be okay. We’ll talk to daddy soon.”

Frankie looks back at you before he boards the bus. Walking away is the hardest thing he has to do but he does it because he cannot turn back. He has to be there with his team. With a sigh, he steps onto the bus and takes a seat, unable to tear his eyes away from you and Ana as the bus pulls away. Pope slaps his shoulder, “they will be okay, hermano.” He promises and Frankie silently prays he’s right.

****

“Hello?” You quickly answer the phone, hoping that it is Frankie, letting you know that he’s gotten to his base overseas. “Frank, is that you?” You fumble for the light beside the bed and sit up. It’s late, or early but you don’t care. Ana groans next to you, having slept in the same bed for the last couple of nights since Frankie had left. “Hello?”

“Hey baby.” Frankie smiles against the phone when he hears your voice. He’s aware of how late it is there but he wants to hear your voice. He’s going to his op brief in the morning, diving straight into it, and he doesn’t know how long he will be dark for.

“Hey.” You reply sleepily and Frankie’s heart twists, remembering how you’d curl into his chest during the night.

“Just wanted to let you know I’m safe. Fucking cold here right now. How are you? How’s Ana?”

“She’s good.” You look over at his spot to see his daughter sprawled across his pillow and taking up even more room than he does if that's possible. “She’s sleeping in your spot. Wanted to cuddle daddy’s pillow.” You murmur quietly so you don’t disturb her. “I won’t let her get used to it, but she needs some comfort right now.”

“I miss her already. So much. I, uh, I want you to give her the bear tomorrow.” He says. He’d gone to the mall to Build A Bear and recorded his voice, telling Ana how much he loves her, and he wants her to have it now that he’s gone. The bear is wearing a uniform like daddy does. “How are you doing? I know it’s a lot to look after her alone.”

“Taking it one day at a time, baby.” You tell him. Thank god for her pre-school, allowing for you to work without having to entertain her. “Molly promised to come over and help out, we will get along just fine.” Reaching over, you pull up her covers and smile when she frowns just like Frankie does. “The bear will be the first thing she sees when she wakes up, I promise.”

“Good. I- I’m heading out any day now. Not sure when, but I’ll be dark for a while until we come back to base. I- I don’t know what’s gonna happen out there but I want you to know that you and Ana mean everything to me.” He confesses, wanting to leave you with that as his time is nearly up.

“We’ll be waiting to hear from you and putting together your first care package.” You hate how your stomach twists but you put on a brave front for him.

“Sounds good. I gotta go now, sweetheart. I- I’ll talk to you soon.” He promises, aware of how much he wants to say to you but he can’t. He has to stay strong and not drag you into his stupid emotions. “Bye Frankie.” You murmur and he smiles, “bye baby.” He says and hangs up, closing his eyes and he knows this is going to be harder than ever.

You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Living in his house, raising his daughter. But it has moments where you can’t imagine anything else. Packing up care packages with his favorite things inside for him to have a bit of home and shipping them off faithfully. Living with your phone nearby at all times, because you don’t want to miss his calls. They are few and far between, but emails are regular, making you create a file folder to keep them all in. It’s been three months and you are finally settled into being Frankie’s dependent.

Frankie devours every email, every photo, every damn video you send of Ana. He wishes you’d include photos of you - not sexual, he just misses your smile. “Baby girl, daddy misses you.” He tells Ana on the video chat, back on base after a few hard hitting missions and he’s glad to see his daughter’s face. “Mommy. Give daddy a kiss!” Ana demands, having been kissing the phone to Frankie herself making his heart yearn for his family.

“Hey!” You light up when you see Frankie on the screen. Your hand automatically goes to your hair. You haven’t done it and you are wearing leggings and one of his t-shirts while you clean. Not your best look. “It’s good to see you, baby. How are you?” You think he looks tired but you don’t want to say that. You know he’s been out of communication so he’s been outside the wire.

God, you’re gorgeous. Frankie inhales sharply and bites his lip, “I’m good. Exhausted. We think we are gonna be sent out again. It’s - it’s rough.” He admits, running his hand through his hair. He realizes you are wearing his shirt and his cock twitches, knowing he’s gonna imagine you wearing just that when he goes to shower. “I miss you.” Frankie says softly.

“I miss you too.” Admitting that is easy. You miss your friend. The man you have fallen in love with. “Ana has a playdate on Saturday. We are going to Chuck E Cheese with one of the little girls from her preschool and her mom. Her dad is on the deployment with you.” You ramble, filling him in on all the small things about the time he’s been out of communication. “And we started a countdown for your tentative return.” You grin and angle the camera towards the calendar, showing where you’ve been marking off days.

Frankie hates that you’re waiting on him but he loves it at the same time, having a family to come home to. It keeps him going. It allows him to put his entire being into making sure he flies the team out of danger. It motivates him. “Hopefully I won’t be a day late coming back to you.” He says, asking you how your work is. Menial conversation but it means the world to him, he loves how simple it is to hear about your day but compared to the horrors he sees, he appreciates it.

You know that the call will have to end soon. Plenty of others want to talk to their loved ones. “We are planning on mailing you another package since Benny ate all your Oreos.” You laugh. “I put in a package for him so he doesn’t steal yours .”

Frankie grins, “thanks baby. I could’ve killed him when he bragged about stealing my cookies with the goddamn crumbs in his teeth.” Frankie shakes his head and Ana rushes up to the phone. “Daddy! Mommy got me a Barbie!” She holds her new doll up and Frankie admires it, reminded of how good you are with her. He’s not sure what will happen in the long run. When you meet someone and want to divorce. It will kill him but he will do it. “Okay my loves. I gotta go. Ana, sweetheart, I love you.” He says and she blows him a kiss, “love you daddy.” He looks at you, “I love you too. I’ll call when I can.” He promises and you nod, “bye Frank.” You blow him a kiss and he knows he will be thinking of that all afternoon.

****

“Coming!” Drying your hands on a dish towel, you rush towards the door, wondering who it can be. Maybe Molly, she had said she would drop by. Your friendly smile freezes the second that you open the door and see uniforms. Heart sinking, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You’ve seen this scene in a movie way too many times. “No-“ you gasp out, making the one with the silver leaf on his lapels remove his hat- or cover as Frankie called it.

“Mrs. Morales?” You can’t breathe, you can’t speak as you imagine the next words, praying that you are finding yourself in the middle of a nightmare. “I am sorry to report that your husband has been injured in combat. He was shot multiple times and is currently being flown to Germany. You are his medical power of attorney and we need you to consent to surgery for when he arrives.” His words almost sound like you’re underwater. “Mrs. Morales, do you understand?” He asks you with a frown.

You blink stupidly at him for several moments before his words sink in. “He’s alive?” You whisper, reaching out for his arm desperately. “Frankie’s alive? Yes, yes whatever they need.” You rush out, tears streaming down your face. “Oh god, Germany?” You swallow. “I need to be there. I need to go be with him.”

“We have already arranged for you to go to Germany. Pack your bag now and we will wait. There’s no time to waste.” He says and you nod, rushing into the house to the bedroom to frantically pack a bag, grabbing your passport, and you go into Ana’s room, grabbing things for her, and you are grateful that Frankie got her a passport in hopes of taking her to Chile to see his distant cousins one day. “Mommy? What’s wrong?” She asks with a frown after she stops playing.

“Honey.” Bending down, you brush Ana’s hair back. “Daddy - daddy got hurt. He’s going to be okay, but we have to go visit him. Cheer him up.” You don’t want to scare her, but how do you explain to a three year old that her dad was in surgery after getting shot. “Can you be a big girl and come with me now? We have to be good because it’s a long trip.”

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks, her lower lip trembling and you nod, “yes but we are going to kiss his boo boos better, okay? Can you be a good girl and pick out some toys for us to take?” You ask, grabbing her backpack and she nods, picking up her favorite dolls to take on the trip. Once you’re all packed up, you alarm the house and lock it, stepping out to the men waiting for you.

It’s surreal, being driven to a plane that is scheduled to take off in just a few hours. Apparently they had delayed it and you’ll never know if it was them or providence that had you up in the air so quickly and on your way to Germany. Praying the entire time that Frankie would be okay as you tried to entertain Ana, worried what you might learn when you land.

****

“Morning baby.” Frankie smiles, kissing along your neck.

“Hmmm. Morning.” You grind back against his hard cock and smile, “someone is eager to start the day.”

Frankie chuckles, sliding his hand under the t-shirt you’re wearing to cup your tit. “Always when it involves you.” He rasps, pinching your nipple and you whimper when he slides his hand down your belly after letting go of your breast. It’s starting to round, you’ll have to announce that you’re pregnant soon and Frankie knows you won’t be able to wait long after you both tell Ana. She will spill the beans within hours. His hand slides lower to disappear into your panties and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. Your soft moan has him biting down on your shoulder, grinding against you.

“Fuck, Frankie.” You whine softly and he smiles against your skin, “mmm love it when you moan my name. My beautiful wife.” He sighs and pushes two fingers inside of your wet cunt, making you turn your head to find his lips. His tongue slides into your mouth as he pumps his fingers, loving the way you push your pleasured sounds into his mouth to muffle them. It doesn’t take you long to cum, sensitive from the hormones, and he pushes you over the edge by twisting his wrist to press his thumb to your clit. “Cum for me.” He begs against your lips and you fall apart with a cry of his name. He kisses along your jaw, working you through it until he’s pulling his fingers out of you.

There’s a beeping noise and he frowns, looking over at the nightstand. “Did you get a new alarm clock?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No. Frankie? Frankie?” Your face blurs and he’s back into the void.

“Frankie.” You carry Ana, rushing through the hospital behind the nurse who is bringing you to his room. He’s out of surgery but he hasn’t woken up yet. The danger is still there but he’s stable. Tears stream down your face when you see him looking grey and still in the hospital bed, hooked up to the heart monitor. “Oh god, Frankie, we’re here.” You promise, rubbing Ava’s back. “It’s okay baby,” the little girl has turned away from the sight of her daddy in the bed and tucked her face into the crook of your neck. “He’s okay, he’s sleeping. Trying to feel better.” The doctor had explained his injuries and the surgery and you are so damn thankful he survived.

Ana whimpers, “is daddy okay?” She asks and your heart breaks at the fearful tone to the voice.

“Yeah, baby girl. Daddy is gonna be fine.” You try to be positive, hoping that he’s going to be okay.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed. Ana is asleep on the chair, curled up after the hospital staff brought her and you some food. Time will tell if Frankie wakes up, his head and chest bandaged and you can’t seem to look away from the rise and fall of his chest, the beeping of the heart monitor reminding you that he’s still here. When he does wake up, he blinks, wincing at the bright light above, and he tries to remember what happened.

“Oh thank god.” You sigh breathlessly when you feel him shift, looking up to find his eyes slowly opening. “Frankie. It’s okay, take it easy.” You don’t want him to be startled or scared. Squeezing his hand gently. “It’s me. You’re in the hospital in Germany.” Trying to keep your voice soothing until he turns to head to look at you.

His throat is so dry. Like he has been stranded in the desert for days without water. He swallows, trying to speak, and he tries to remember what happened but all he can say is “love you.” His dreams were lucid, showing him what life could be like. A life spent with you and Ana. You as his wife, his actual wife, not some paper so you can get healthcare. He closes his eyes again, feeling exhausted.

“I love you too.” You cry, relieved that he’s okay. That he’s awake. The fear and the anxiety make you sob as you lean forward and kiss his hand. “I’m so- god, I’m so - god I was so worried.”

The nurse comes in to check on you at that moment and you turn towards her, “he’s awake.” The nurse nods and comes over to Frankie, ushering you away and pushing the button to summon the rest of the medical team to assess Frankie who is still half drugged up but aware of his surroundings.

You move over towards Ana, leaning over and checking on her while the doctors and nurses come into the room. Smiling as she cuddles the beat that had his voice recorded in it while she sleeps. You have to talk to him. You can’t do this. Not when you really love him. You can’t pretend you don’t want a real future with him while playing as his wife.

The medical team eventually filters out and the doctor approaches to tell you that Frankie’s vitals all look good. He was shot in the head but it was just scraped and didn’t go in. He had a bullet to the chest which punctured his lung but didn’t go near his heart, and a bullet to the shoulder. He’s lucky to be alive but he should make a recovery as long as he’s stable.

Listening to the doctor, you are so damn thankful for the fact that Frankie pulled through as well as he has, hugging yourself as you hear the prognosis and what will happen going forward with rehab for him. “Thank you.” You murmur as the doctor leaves, letting you move back towards Frankie. You can tell that he’s about to fall asleep as you take his hand again. “Baby, I-” you choke out the words, new tears falling and you just squeeze his hand again, unable to get the words out. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed again and his breathing evens out as he falls asleep again.

****

“Daddy! Mommy wants pancakes.” Ana declares and Frankie chuckles, “oh she does? I guess it is Mother’s Day after all.” Frankie says as he slides the pancakes he was already making onto the plate. “Come on then. Let’s go.” Frankie says once he’s got everything and Ana opens the door for him to find you holding the baby, breastfeeding him.

“Happy Mommy Day!” Ana declares and you smile, looking up at Frankie as he holds the tray.

“Happy Mother’s Day.” He says and kisses your cheek even though he showed you how much he loves you this morning before the kids woke up. “I’ll hold him while you eat.” Frankie offers after his son pulls off of your breast. You nod and Frankie takes the baby into his arms, certain that this is a dream. The life he’s always wanted with the woman he’s always wanted.

“I’ve been thinking.” You smile sweetly at the picture Frankie paints holding your son.

“Yeah baby? What have you been thinking about?” He asks, looking up from Miguel to find you grinning at him. His heart flutters every time he sees that smile.

“I think that once the doctor clears me, we should try for another.” You admit, chuckling when his eyes widen. “Have a set of Irish twins. What do you think?” You had cursed him while you were pushing Miguel out, but immediately apologized once the pain had passed and your son was in your arms.

Frankie’s eyes widen, “really? You want another one so soon?” He asks and you nod, “yes. Yes. I don’t want to waste time. It’s precious.” He agrees, knowing how quick time flies. “Let’s do it.” He says and he is leaning in to kiss you. “I love you baby.” He murmurs and you hum into his mouth, making him smile.

****

Frankie squeezes your hand while he continues to rest. Letting you cry in solitude while Ana still sleeps curled up in the chair. “I love you Frankie.” You admit quietly. “I’ve always loved you. It’s why it was so easy to offer to marry you. I- I want you to recover for Ana, but for me too.” Leaning down, you kiss his hand again, wondering if he’s dreaming. If he is, you hope that it's a good dream.

Frankie blinks against the bright light again, annoyed that he’s been dragged away from his dream of making another baby with you. The dreams were so real he mourns the life he had in those dreams and he opens his eyes to find you crying while holding his hand. “Wha- baby?” He croaks, throat still so dry and he wonders why you are crying.

Looking up, you press your lips together as you hold back a sob. Leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek and forehead, taking care to keep away from his bandages. “Oh god baby, you're awake. I - I’m so glad.” You pull back, knowing he is probably confused. “You were- you were shot.” You explain quietly. “You’re in a hospital in Germany. I- Ana and I flew out as soon as possible. I have been so worried about you.”

He frowns, finally getting his focus, and he looks at you. “Shot? Germany? The- the others?” He asks, suddenly worried about his team. Are they okay? Is anyone else hurt or dead? His heart monitor starts to beep rapidly and he squeezes your hand.

“Everyone else is fine.” You promise, having heard what happened from the officer who had taken you to the airfield to fly out. “You took fire while you were trying to get soldiers out of a heavy fire situation. You were shot, but managed to get them back to the base before you passed out right after you set down your chopper.” Your heart had stopped when you heard how he had barely made it back to base, but you could only be strong for him.

He’s still fuzzy but he understands what you are saying. He nearly died. He remembers the panic in his mind when he was shot, thinking about leaving you and Ana behind. Fuck, he nearly died. Fuck. “I love you.” He tells you breathlessly.

“I love you.” You murmur, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“No. No. You don’t understand. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you. I can’t - I can’t live without you. You’re my best friend. You’re my everything.” He chokes, needing you to understand him.

“You’re my best friend too.” You promise him, thinking that he’s just telling you needing you as a friend.

But Frankie frowns. “No baby, I don’t- I want to be married to you for real. Forever.” He manages, squeezing your hand.

“For real?” You frown and then lean forward. “Baby, I want- if this is just some kind of reaction to being shot-“

“it’s not,” he insists. “I love you.”

You lunge forward and press your lips to his. “I love you.” You tell him breathlessly.

He wishes he could reach up and cup your cheek, keep you pressed against him, but all he can do is kiss you back. “I’m so fucking in love with you. Always have been. Even with - even when I was with Janet. It’s why she left that night. We were arguing and I- shit. I’ve made so many mistakes but marrying you ain’t one of them. I love you. I love you.” He says when you lean back to look into his eyes.

Your heart breaks, knowing that you were the cause of what could be the reason that Janet was driving that night, although you know her actions were her own. You know that she and Frankie weren’t good together and you can’t blame him for the past. “I love you, Francisco.” You promise him softly with a smile, kissing him once more. “Will you stay married to me?” You ask quietly, not wanting anyone to over hear. “Make this a real marriage with me?”

Frankie nuzzles into your cheek, unable to believe how lucky he is to have you. “I love you. It’s always been you. I- I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to start the rest of our lives.”

You smile and giggle happily, reaching up and brushing his hair back from his face. “I love you too baby. Now you just need to heal so you can come home to us.” Frankie’s deployment is officially over and as soon as he is recovered enough to go home, you would be headed back to the states so he could recover fully.

****

“Frankie!” You huff, pushing at his wandering hands and pushing them away from your ass. “You need to stop. You could pull a stitch.” You chide, finding it harder and harder to push him as the weeks go by.

Frankie grunts, “don’t care. It’s been torture seeing you and not being able to be inside of you.” He admits, and he knows you’ve done stuff. You have sucked his cock and he let you sit on his face, but the doctor told him no strenuous activity. He hasn’t been cleared yet but every day it’s getting harder to not fuck you. He honestly wants to make love to you, something slow and sweet to consummate your marriage…finally.

You bite your lip and you know that he is just as eager as you are to finally have sex. Leaning in, you press your lips to his. “If - and I mean if - you can be good and be still, how about we compromise and I sit on your cock?” You know that Frankie wants to be in charge but he can’t. No with the bandage on his side. But if he could be still, you could ride him. “But you have to be still. Not trying to take over.”

Frankie pouts, aware that he can’t ruin you the way he wants to but he has the rest of your lives to make love to you, to make you cum on his cock while he fucks you. “I can be good.” He promises, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass. Ana is in bed and he’s so grateful for it so he can push his hard cock into your hip. “I won’t take over.”

You smirk, absolutely aware of the fact that he will try to take over. “Then what are you waiting for, soldier?” You tease. “Get undressed so I can fuck my husband.” You are already getting out of the bed so you can strip out of the t-shirt and panties that you had taken to sleeping in. Enjoying the way Frankie’s eyes wander over your body every night.

He loves seeing you like this. His beautiful wife. The love of his life. He swallows, throat suddenly dries, and he is grateful he isn’t wearing a shirt. His boxers are able to be shoved down and he pushes the sheets down the bed before settling against the pillows. “Baby. Come here. Are you wet? You wanna sit on my face?” He asks, “there’s lube in the nightstand.” He wants you to be comfortable. “And condoms…if you want.” He adds, knowing you haven’t been on birth control and he doesn’t want to push you in case you change your mind and don’t want to get pregnant yet.

He pants, fingers twitching to grab you. He desperately wants you, he wants to make you feel good. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.” He admits, knowing that the experience will be different than Janet who was a nightmare when she was pregnant. She was demanding and accused him of cheating, and then cried and begged for sex in the same breath. He had whiplash and tried to be there for her but it was hard at times. His hands caress your back and he leans in to kiss your shoulder, just breathing you in while you grind against him.

“Lean back, baby.” You chide, pushing his shoulder back gently. “I’m going to come to you. Give you what we’ve both wanted.” He feels so good against your clit that you can’t help but roll your hips, slicking up his cock with how wet you are and enjoying when his cock flexes against your folds. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“Fuck. Don’t tease me baby. It’s been torture.” He groans when you kiss him slowly, his hands squeezing your hips to encourage you. “Come on baby. I need you to fuck me.” He begs, rocking his hips to grind against you.

Taking mercy on him and yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around his thick cock and lift your hips. Eager to have him inside you now and feel his cum filling you up. The first inch makes you gasp, carefully bracing your hands on his chest but not putting any pressure on him. Wanting to make sure you don’t hurt him as you sink down on him.

Frankie whimpers, actually whimpers, when you take his cock inside of you. “Fuck baby. You- Jesus fucking Christ - you feel so good.” He pants, “I- oh God. Wanted this for so long.” He grips your waist, wishing he could slide inside of you on your back and make love to you.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his and slide your tongue into his mouth as you grind back onto him. Wanting to make sure that you get used to the thick heft of him inside you. “Me too baby, wanted you for so long.” You promise, your walls clenching around him.

Frankie almost feels like he can't breathe. His heart beats out of his chest and he pants when you clench around him. "Fuck, sweetheart. Feel so good. Can't - can't wait to feel this for the rest of our lives. So damn lucky." He kisses along your jaw and down your neck, wanting to worship you as much as possible.

“I’m lucky.” You start to slowly roll your hips, in no hurry to cum. You want this time to be soft and sweet. Not only for him, but so you can feel every inch of him scrubbing through your walls. “Love you.” You close your eyes as he kisses you, absorbing the groans and loving how his hands wander as you slowly ride him.

“Love you too.” He vows, knowing he’s going to ask you to marry him again. He wants a big wedding, the boys to be there and your friends. He wants to show off how much he loves you. After nearly dying, it’s put everything into perspective and he knows he is grateful for what he has. Others have fared far worse than him. His hands squeeze your breasts and his cock twitching inside of you, imagining them full of milk for his baby. The thought nearly sends him over the edge but he controls himself.

“Ohhh someone thought of something they like.” You tease, seeing the look on his face as he twitches inside you. You wonder if it’s the same as him. Imagining him knocking you up tonight. Your hips roll a little faster and you moan his name softly, reaching up and combing through his hair as your nose touches his and you look in his dark eyes

He chuckles softly, “was thinking about you full of our baby. When your tits get bigger.” He confesses and nudges your nose with his. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to begin our family with Ana and another child. It’s gonna - fuck - it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He murmurs, caressing your back.

You moan, imaging how possessive, how loving he will be when you are showing. Frankie seems like the type to worship you when you are pregnant. “I want that too.” You promise. “Have your baby, share that with you. Raising our kids.” Ana isn’t yours by blood but you love her like your own.

He nods, knowing he wants to ask you to formally adopt Ana and be her mom. He will preserve Janet’s legacy with her daughter but Ana deserves all the love in the world. “Fuck.” Frankie groans when you rock a little faster, his shoulder aches but he ignores it, trying to rock his hips up into you as you grind on top of him.

“Frankie.” You gasp out, clenching down around him when his cock nudges against your g-spot wonderfully. “There.” You pant, knowing that if he keeps hitting that spot just like that, you will cum quickly.

He hisses, concentrating on thrusting up into you at that angle. “Baby. Cum for me baby.” He begs, “come on, be a good girl. Cum for me.” He demands, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock.

You whine out his name, holding onto him as he takes control.

He wasn’t supposed to do that, but you are beyond caring. As long as he doesn’t rip his stitches, he can take the reins and thrust up into you. “I’m gonna cum baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum on your cock.”

“That’s it. That’s it.” He groans when he thrusts up into you, his hands gripping your ass, and you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes baby. That’s it. Oh shit. I’m gonna-” Frankie usually prides himself on his stamina but the emotional connection combined with wanting you for years and the added ecstasy of you possibly getting pregnant and his near demise has him sent over the edge. “Fuck.” He moans your name as he cums, cock twitching inside of you.

It’s Heaven, the molten heat of his seed filling you. Making you gasp in pleasure as you grind down on him as he rides out his high, pushing up into you with short thrusts. “Oh god, oh god.” You collapse against him and kiss along his jaw. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.” Frankie pants, his entire body lost in the feel of his orgasm. It’s more than he could’ve ever imagined. He feels complete. His wife in his arms, hopefully pregnant soon with his second child. It’s his dream come true. He just wishes it wasn’t such a bumpy road to get to this point but that’s life. Twists and turns…Frankie still got his happy ending.

#pedro pascal #frankie catfish morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales imagine

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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago

Text

hands shaking from holding back from you || Hyun-Su x f!reader

summary: Spring is here, and Hyun-Su offers to take you out on a date, which soon leads to more between the two of you

word count: 3.5k

warnings & tags: some fluff, angst because it's sweet home, kissing, heavy make-out session, gets pretty suggestive but never explicit, monster!hyun-su makes an appearance, the pronoun 'her' is used once in reference to the reader

first one-shot · previous one-shot

A/N: to give a little context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.

There is something strange about spring returning in a forever changed world. It had been so fitting, the apocalypse starting with winter, when everything was dead and desolate. Now, nature is starting to bloom again. The streets should be filled with noise and people, and you should be studying for your exams. Instead, you’re rationing your food, and you haven’t been outside in forever — you don’t need to, now that you have a knight in his torn hoodie to make sure you have everything you need.

Hyun-Su truly is the silver lining in the situation. The only good thing in the world as it is. He’s been more confident around you lately, more at ease. Still, it surprises you when he comes by on a sunny afternoon, and offers, with this soft, cautious voice of his:

“Do you want to go out today?”

You’re putting away some fresh fruits he picked for you, and you turn around in confusion.

“What do you mean, out?”

‘Outside’ is dangerous. ‘Outside’ is a place you only go when you’re desperate, and you plan as efficiently as possible, to ensure you spend the least amount of time there. ‘Outside’, everything is a threat, and you can only breathe when you’re back at the house.

‘Outside’ regularly takes Hyun-Su from you.

Sure, he’s around a lot more, these days, but he still has to leave every now and then. You’ve come to understand that you’re not the only one who relies on him, but he hasn’t provided an explanation, and you haven’t pried. It burns a little every time he leaves, and yet…

And yet, the fear that he wouldn’t answer if you asked is worse. The fear that he might not come back if you didn’t let it rest. The fear that if he had to choose, he wouldn’t choose you.

“It’s nice out,” he answers, and you notice him retreating even as he’s still speaking. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to—”

“No, I’d love to,” you cut him off before he can doubt himself further. “I just— Wouldn’t that be— dangerous?”

“Oh.” He smiles, and it’s mesmerizing. It’s not the bright, joyful smile you were used to seeing, back in high school, but being more subdued doesn’t make it any less genuine. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s no cockiness in his voice, just confidence.

“Then… Sure. I’d love to go out with you.” And you’re not usually the type to say that, because you don’t have the guts for it, but you feel comfortable enough with Hyun-Su to lean towards him with a playful smile. “It’s a date then?”

He lets out a brief, surprised laugh, then glances down at his feet while his cheeks and ears turn red.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Even if you were the instigator, you still feel your face burn at how soft his eyes are when he looks back at you.

He looks at you like you’re one of the seven wonders.

You see him lick his lips as his eyes fall on yours. You could always take the step to fill the distance between the two of you, but Hyun-Su rarely initiates, so you want to give him the chance to do so. When he does, it’s always so soft and so careful, like he’s afraid of breaking you. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, looks away again — and it’s alright. You won’t rush him.

“I’ll go get ready,” you hum, stepping out of the room.

You miss the way Hyun-Su follows you with adoring eyes.

When you emerge back from your room, Hyun-Su is waiting for you, and you follow him, heart rate spiking when you go through the door. Being outside again, without the need to go get some specific and vital item, is— strange. Your eyes dart around you, constantly taking in your surroundings. There are surprisingly few monsters, compared to the chaos that was early winter. In front of you, Hyun-Su walks casually, seemingly without paying much attention to what is happening around him. You trust him, you really do, but there’s you still find it unnerving about that.

When you jump at some faraway sound, that turns out to be just birds flying away, scared by your approach, he offers you his hand, an amused smile on his lips. He might even suppress a laugh, but you can’t tell for sure.

“Is that okay?” he asks you softly as he closes his fingers around yours.

He treats you like you’re made of porcelain.

“It’s much better,” you reply with a smile, even if you feel a little sheepish.

For a second, he stares into your eyes, before he looks away and lets out a deep, long exhale. You don’t question him, just give his hand a squeeze, hoping it comes off as a silent reassurance.

He squeezes back, then pulls you with him as you keep going through the city.

“Is there— Is there nothing here anymore?” you ask. It feels like you should have seen a monster by now.

“They’re here,” Hyun-Su replies casually, like monsters aren’t a death promise. “They just know better than to approach.”

You swallow. You understand what he doesn’t say — they know better than to approach him — but it’s not that much of a reassurance, for you. You quicken your pace to stay closer to him. It says a lot about how far he’s come that he doesn’t jump when your shoulder brushes against his.

“They’re not all dangerous,” he says. You know he intends for it to be reassuring, but all you can do is grimace in response.

“They might not be,” you answer — you remember a flash of wings as an unseen monster ripped the snake-like creature that was trying to enter your home —, “but it’s not like I have a way of knowing which ones are safe and which ones aren’t.”

There’s a long silence as Hyun-Su keeps walking.

“But isn’t that true of humans, too?” he asks you in the end. He sounds so— sad, and yet you don’t know what to tell him to make it better. He’s not like them, you want to assure him. You’d never conflate him with the ones that tried to murder you — but it’s not like you can forget about them altogether either. Being wrong about trusting a monster, being wounded once could sign your end.

“It is,” you reply slowly. It’s especially true in this new world, where humans have dropped all their inhibitions. “I guess it’s just— Humans have been less of danger to me, you know?” A brief laugh. “But it’s not like I’m running after them either, right? I haven’t stepped foot near the shelter.”

Your dad didn’t trust the military, and you’re distrustful of authority. There might be strength in numbers, but you wouldn’t feel safe being surrounded by men with machine guns while you have nothing.

Hyun-Su hums at your answer. It does seem to have brought him some comfort, and yet you feel the need not to leave it at that.

“You know I trust you, right?” He freezes and turns to look at you. “Both sides,” you insist. “I know you’re safe.”

His lips part as if to say something, before he closes them again and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Finally, he nods.

“I feel safe with you, too,” he says. The sentence catches you by surprise, almost makes you want to laugh, because— who in their right mind would think you’re a threat? But Hyun-Su says it with such gravitas that you can only assume that there’s something that you don’t know about under there. Truth be told, there’s a lot you haven’t talked about with him. He’s not talkative, not anymore at least, and it’s hard to know which questions you can ask before reaching a painful subject. And there are countless of these, for everyone, since the Apocalypse hit. “Come on,” he adds after a few seconds. “We’re almost there.”

He pulls you towards a half-broken down outside staircase. You can’t make your way up on your own, so he grabs you by the hips to help you up, and you let out a surprised yelp when strong hands pull you close to him, his chest against your back, to lift you up. Immediately, his body tenses up and he stills, which means you’re all too aware of how close he is now, of his breath on your neck and his body against yours.

“Sorry,” he says. “Is that okay?”

Gosh, he’s sweet to ask, but you’re really happy he cannot see your expression right now.

“It’s fine,” you squeak, “just caught me off guard. Don’t worry about it.”

He seems to hesitate for a second, and oh, you’re so aware of his fingers on your hips, before he lifts you up as if you weighed nothing, first on his shoulder, then easily higher, so you can grab the bottom of the staircase.

“All good?” he asks once you’re up there.

“All good! Do you need—”

But he’s made his way up before you can finish your sentence, and you blink. Right. Some people are athletic.

“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the stairs. “I’ll catch you if anything goes wrong.”

It shouldn’t feel reassuring, should make you think that you’re at risk, but you meant it when you said you trusted him. Knowing he’s there to watch over you… It’s like having your own personal guardian angel.

There are no issues, however, and you soon arrive on the rooftop — which takes your breath away. This had to have belonged to someone with money, because there is a whole garden there. Overgrown grass, flowers, and even a few trees. Birds are chirping, and it feels… Well, it feels like the kind of places you’d go to laze around on a sunny afternoon with your friends, like an actual park. Being secluded and high up, it is however much safer than any park you could actually go to now. When you turn around, you’re met with an impressive view of the city. It looks peaceful from up here, just a quiet spring day.

Then you notice that Hyun-Su is staring at you, and what you see takes your breath away. He’s smiling. Actually smiling. Wide and bright.

You’re quick to look away, embarrassed by the emotions you’re sure are obvious on your face. Tilting your head up, you let yourself receive the sun.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this happy.

Hyun-Su often feels that, when he’s with you, all he can do is stare. He likes watching you when you’re at home, going about your day in the house, or sitting by a window and reading. It makes him feel so— welcome, knowing that he can just be there, with you, and that you’ll never mind his presence, never ask him to leave.

Never ignore him and pretend he doesn’t exist.

It makes him feel like he belongs, being around you, makes him feel at peace.

Or, at least, it did, because the emotions swirling under his skin right now are much more complex than they used to be.

He met you, or met you again, in the winter, when you were bundled up under coats and scarves and layers upon layers of clothes. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the change in your wardrobe lately.

It makes sense, of course. Days are getting warmer. Not only is there no need for you to keep wearing pullovers and disappear into huge coats. But the way your clothes are hugging your body these days, how they accentuate your curves, how your t-shirt rides up to reveal the skin of your stomach…

He can’t say that it makes it more difficult to be around you, because he doesn’t think that anything could do that. You make him feel like he can breathe again, like he’s finally coming up to the surface after spending ages lost in dark waters, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. It’s just that it— takes a lot of place in his mind.

He can already barely stop thinking about you as it is, knows that the Kid and Yi-Kyung have noticed already how his mind always seems to wander away from them. This, though, this is a whole other can of worms. Because he doesn’t know how to act about it. Doesn’t know how you’d feel if you knew. Doesn’t know if you’d look at him with pity, if you’d tell him you never want to see him again, if it would disgust you.

Yet, no matter how much he tries to stop himself, he always comes back to staring. You tilt your head up towards the sky, close your eyes.

You’re beautiful.

If he was another man, he’d walk up to you to wrap his arms around you, he’d whisper something in your ear, he’d kiss you.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, his leg twitches. It takes him a second to understand that it’s not just an involuntary muscle reaction. Inside him, the monster is swelling, clawing its way up towards the surface.

If you don’t do something about this, I will, it whispers inside him. And let’s be honest, maybe that would be for the best, because what could you do? At least I wouldn’t be afraid to touch her.

Hyun-Su tries his best to force it back down, to ignore the sting of the words, but the monster refuses to let up. Finally, he takes a step in your direction, then another. The closer he is to you, the less the monster puts up a fight — but it still refuses to go down completely.

You turn to look at him when he reaches you, tilting your head in quiet questioning.

Hyun-Su feels himself lifting his hand to touch your cheek, and it’s so spontaneous, so natural that he can’t really say who’s in control there. Your skin is soft under his, and as he leans in to kiss you, he cannot forget how fragile you are compared to him. How one wrong surge from the creature he harbors inside himself could end it all, how careful he needs to be.

And, when his lips brush against yours and you kiss him back without hesitation, he’s reminded of how you either don’t know that or don’t care.

There must be something in the air, because without thinking, his hand comes to your waist, then the small of your back, pulling you close to him. Again, he can’t tell if it’s the monster making its own decision, or if it’s just natural and he’s just doing what he truly wants to do. Both thoughts are worrying.

But you’re not aware of all the questions going on his mind, and all you do is tilt your head up to give him better access to your mouth — and it makes his pulse rush and his mind goes haywire.

Normally, he’d know better. Right now, he feels your hands, trapped against his chest, gripping his hoodie and pulling him down towards you, just a little closer, because there isn’t much space left between the two of you anyway.

He tilts you back now, still without thinking — there isn’t enough space for that in his mind at this moment, not when it’s so filled with you you you — hands firmly holding you against him. His tongue pushes against your lips, and you part them almost immediately, welcoming him in your mouth. His blood is pumping, his whole body feels scorching hot, and you’re right there, running your fingers along his jaw and over his neck, leaving burning trails everywhere you touch.

His tongue intertwines with yours and he feels, more than he hears, you whimper into him.

Immediately, a sense of urgency forces him to pull back. One second, he’s pressed against yours, the next, he’s taken two steps back, and your eyes open in confusion.

“Are you okay?’ he asks, searching for a way he’s hurt you, anything indicating that something’s wrong. But all he finds is swollen lips that you press together as you glance away from him.

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” you mumble, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to understand what kind of noise that was.

Oh.

He’s immediately desperate to hear it again.

He brings you back against him to kiss you once more, and there it is, coming from the back of your throat.

He’s not sure what happens, who initiates what, if he’s in control at all, but soon he knows that your back is against the grass, and he’s above you, kissing you just as fiercely. Your hands are wandering now — his shoulders, first, then his arms, then tracing the muscles of his chest and down to his abs. He wants to respond in kind, wants so badly to feel you, but the second he moves his hands, fear assaults him again.

“Is that—” He breaks the kiss to look at you in worry. “Is that okay?”

He illustrates the question with the softest of touch on your skin. You let out a brief laugh — not a mocking one, though.

“You really don’t have to keep asking that,” you say, and your eyes are adoring. Then, when he stays still, you push yourself on your elbows to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Then his jaw. Then his neck.

Hyun-Su can only stay there, frozen in bliss, as you pepper his skin with kisses. Finally, as you’re reaching his collarbone, you take his hand in yours to bring it back on your body, and then you lie back down, allowing him to take the lead now.

His hand is shaking as he slides it under your t-shirt, all of his senses overwhelmed with need. He wants you so bad, he has a hard time understanding it. Kissing you is familiar. The way your body arches against yours, pushing into his touch— isn’t. His immediate want for more, more of the sounds you make, more of your body, more of you, that is all new, too.

He feels feverish as he mirrors your previous actions, kissing down your neck and lingering in one spot when he discovers it makes you whimper. Now that you’re not muffled with his mouth, your sounds echo louder, and they’re music to his ears, in a way that fuels the fire you’ve lit inside him. His hips press down into you, and a jolt of pleasure jolts through him, which when he realizes that he’s—

He tears himself away from you for the second time, stumbling back to end up just a couple meters away from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “sorry about that.”

You sit up, looking a little confused.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

It’s his line, and it takes him a while to piece together what you could mean by that. It’s not like there’s any way for you to hurt him. If anything, you should be disgusted by him. There’s no way you didn’t feel him, which means you know he’s hard. But you’re just looking at him in concern.

“Sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call gently as you scoot over towards him. “It’s all good. I didn’t— um— I didn’t mind. But we— we can stop here for now, if you’d rather.”

Inside him, the monster protests vaguely, but this time Hyun-Su has no issue sending it back to the abyss it came from. He’s overwhelmed, heart beating erratically, and he doesn’t know what would happen if things kept going. He wasn’t in control, not really, and he— he can’t risk it. Not with you.

“Sorry,” he repeats, feeling miserable.

Slowly, you put your arms around him. There’s nothing suggestive about it. You’re just doing your best to bring him comfort.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Your fingers run gently through his hair in appeasing motions. He rests his head against your shoulder.

He’s not alone.

You’re just there, talking to him, touching him, right against him. You’re not doing anything to move away, not looking at him like he’s some mistake, and it feels like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

Your fingers still for a moment, before you go back to your ministrations.

“For what?”

And, God, the fact that you don’t even know, that you don’t even realize everything you’re doing, everything you’ve done for him since that first day when you spotted him in the street and ran after him…

He draws in a trembling breath.

“Thank you,” he just repeats.

You don’t ask any more questions, just keep gently playing with his hair.

The sky’s blue, the birds are singing, the town is quiet. It’s just you and him, sitting in the grass, on the rooftop.

If someone were to miraculously pass by and see the two of you there, they’d probably think that you were, indeed, on a date.

okay, I hope you're enjoying this little series! I'm not sure what I'll work on next. i know i'm eventually going to write smut for them, though it's going to be very soft because... well it has to be between them lol. someone has also said they wanted to see them tackle the world together a bit more, so I'm also thinking about writing a one-shot where they meet ha-ni and ho-sang, because i thought that ho-sang's intense dislike for hyun-su could imply they've met before. anyway, yeah, i have a couple different ideas.

i would really appreciate it if you left a comment, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, and tell me anything you're liking in this series! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)

next one-shot

#hyun su x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader #sweet home imagine #sweet home fanfic #my writing

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