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#if you just wants pretzels buy pretzels
luveline · 8 months
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hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?
hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
modern au 
You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life. 
"James?" you ask.
"Just me," Remus says. 
You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off." 
"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to." 
Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby." 
Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!
"Brilliant. How's you writing?" 
"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly." 
Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair. 
"I'm not looking, I promise," you say. 
Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you." 
"Lucky me," you say. 
You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response. 
Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM
yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM
ok 2:31PM
sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM
I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM
I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM
Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James. 
I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM
Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely. 
"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?" 
"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off." 
You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it." 
"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring." 
"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?" 
You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house. 
"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says. 
"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave. 
He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think. 
He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted. 
When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again. 
You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched. 
You seem upset, for a moment. 
Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing." 
"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward." 
He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so. 
"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier." 
"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered. 
His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?" 
You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay." 
It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there. 
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inkyray · 1 month
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Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?
a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror
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warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything
-
TOUCHED
You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.
You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.
You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."
You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.
He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.
You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.
"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.
"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"
You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.
You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.
He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.
"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.
PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.
It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.
You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.
-
You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.
Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.
You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.
You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.
You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.
You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.
He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.
Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.
-
You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.
You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.
You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.
Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.
"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.
"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of your hands quicken. You try to stop them, putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.
"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.
"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.
In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.
He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."
You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."
"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."
It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one. 
Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.
The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you. 
Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes widen as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.
It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.
Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.
"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.
"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."
You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."
-
In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.
Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.
You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.
Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.
You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.
"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.
The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.
You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.
"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.
You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.
"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."
"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."
Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."
"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.
"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.
Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt grumbled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.
"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.
"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.
You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.
"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.
"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.
The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.
Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.
You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.
You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.
He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.
"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"
"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.
"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.
Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.
"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.
"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"
With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.
The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.
Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.
The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.
"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.
You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back quicker.
Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.
The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.
"You know what you're fucking—"
"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.
" 'because it always has to be your way—"
"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"
"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"
You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.
You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.
"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.
They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.
Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.
"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."
Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."
Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."
And they were gone.
You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.
"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display of affection, or whatever."
He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.
"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.
"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."
You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."
You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."
The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.
"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.
He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.
"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.
"Sorry about that too."
He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.
"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.
"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."
He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."
"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.
"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"
"Promise."
"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."
"You got it, love."
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sturniolo-simp4life · 18 days
Text
Teddy Bear- Matt Sturniolo
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warnings- angst, smut, fingering, oral (fem)
summary- after ignoring you all day, Matt lets something slip from his mouth, upsetting you.
You took Matt to the mall today, just wanting to spend a day with him.
of course, you could never just do that. Fans would always come up to him and ask for his picture, making you take all of the pictures.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t like when other girls put their hands on him.
You and Matt had come out to their fans about dating a month ago. Most people were supportive.
Even though the girls knew, they put their hands around his waist and neck and it just pissed you off.
so whenever someone wasn’t taking his picture, your hand would be linked with his to let people get the memo: he’s taken.
unfortunately for Matt, he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.
He would just scroll on his phone while walking and whenever you wanted his option on a piece of clothing, he would just mumble, “looks good,” or something.
It did make you a little upset but you decided not to push it.
like right now, you were in H&M.
“Matt, what do you think of this dress?” He didn’t even look up from his phone. “It looks fine baby,” he said.
you frowned. “Matt, I don’t think you can see the dress from your phone.”
He groaned as he looked up at you. He had a look of annoyance in his face. “It looks fine.” You frowned again as you mumbled an okay, and payed for it.
You wrapped your hand around his waist as you walked out of the store. But when you walked out, he yanked your hand off his waist.
You looked at him shocked. He didn’t even look up at you. Why did it hurt so bad?
you stayed silent for a bit. While you were walking, you saw a pretzel shop, immediately lightening your mood.
“Wanna get a pretzel?” You asked, excitement in your eyes.
He sighed and mumbled a sure, finally looking up from his phone.
you grabbed his hand, but you felt him slightly jerk. It made your heart pang, but you ignored it. At least you tried.
After you got your food, you sat down with him, trying to make conversation.
“So baby, are you exited for tour? It’s coming up soon.” He didn’t even look up, again, when he answered.
“yeah.” He muttered. You just gave up at this point. You ate your pretzel in silence.
“are you ready to go?” He nodded and you walked to the car.
the only think you ended buying was that dress and a teddy bear.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
when you got home, nothing really changed. You set the teddy bear on the kitchen counter, and Matt sat at the island table.
“baby do you want to eat anything?” He shook his head no, and continued to scroll on his phone.
you sighed and walked over to him, placing your hand on his back and rubbing him softly.
“Can you fucking stop?” He snapped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your hand away. “What?”
“your so fucking annoying y/n. All day you’ve been clinging on to me, like fucking glue. It’s fucking annoying,” he spat.
You felt tears burn into the brim of your eyes, but you still felt anger. “What the fuck do you mean Matt? You’ve been ignoring me all day. You’ve barely even talked to me at all.”
You felt your voice break. “All you’ve been doing in scrolling on your fucking phone.” Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh give me a fucking break. I’ve been working my ass of to get things for the tour ready. And next thing you know, I have you dragging my ass to the mall.”
he shook his head. “You think I wanted to hear to fucking talk all day? Give me a fucking break. You don’t even do anything. All you do is sit your ass home all fucking day.”
“so what if I don’t wan’t to fucking talk to you? Not everything is about you y/n.”
You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until a shaky sob left your mouth. You couldn’t even control your tears. They were just falling.
Matt scoffed. “If you’re gonna be such a cry baby, at least go cry somewhere else.” His eyes looked cold.
All you did was sob louder. You wiped your tears, but there was no point, because they just kept spilling.
As you walked up the stairs, you could hear Matt mumbling something about how sensitive you were.
when you got to your shared bedroom, you stripped out of your clothing and changed into Matt’s fresh love hoodie and a pair of shorts.
Thankfully, you grabbed the teddy bear you bought. You snuggled it up to you as stray tears left your eyes.
-
a soft knock was heard at the door. “Who is it,” you mumbled, your voice thick and scratchy from crying.
Nick and Chris walked into the room.
“hey y/n/n,” Chris whispered as he sat down on the bed. Nick sat beside you and rubbed your back softly.
"Hi," you mumbled.
“are you alright?” nick asked. “we heard the fight.” you frowned at the thought, more tears threatening to fall. 
“Yeah,” you said with a voice crack. Chris frowned. “You wanna tell us what happened?” You sighed as you explained to them what happened at the mall, from him ignoring you and the fight when you got back. 
Nick sighed and shook his head, and Chris frowned. “How about this. Nick will get a bath ready for you and I’ll go talk to Matt. How does that sound?” 
You smiled slightly and nodded your head. Chris rubbed you back and got up, and you followed Nick into the bathroom. 
“I’ll set some fresh clothes on the counter for when you're done. Feel better soon.” Nick gave you a half smile and walked out of the room. 
You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped into the hot shower. You almost wished you could just melt and go down the drain with the rest of the water. 
What if Matt was right? Were you as clingy as he said you were? 
When you stepped out the bathroom, you were in a fresh oversized tee and pj pants. The first thing you could hear was Chris’s voice coming from downstairs. 
“Matt, I get that your stressed but taking it out on y/n? What’s wrong with you?” 
You could practically hear Matt rolling his eyes. “It’s not my fault she’s so fucking clingy. She should learn how to keep her hands to herself.” You could feel your heart crack at those words. 
“Do you hear yourself Matt? She’s your girlfriend. What has she ever done to you? She’s the one who offered to take your sorry ass to the mall to get your mind off things, but here you are, accusing her.” 
There was silence for a while. “What have I done,” you heard Matt mummer. 
“If you don’t get your ass upstairs and fix things with her now, me and you are going to have a problem.”
Moments later, you could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and then a soft knock at the door. “Y/n? Baby?” 
The door softly opened, and you were met with Matt’s face. “Hey, can we... talk?” You nodded your head and motioned for him to sit down. 
“I’d really like to apologize for earlier today. All the things for the tour had been stressing me out, especially because it was mostly me organizing and planning everything. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. I love you y/n so much. I promise that won’t ever happen again. M’ so sorry. Don’t cry.” 
You didn’t even realize you were crying. He pulled you into his arms and kissed your hair, stroking it softly.
“Do you really think I’m clingy Matt?” you asked. “If you do think i am, I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
He looked at you, so broken. “Of course not baby. I love it when you hold my hand and touch me.” He kissed you softly. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”  
He kissed you again, although it wasn’t soft, like before. It was passionate and hungry. He laid you back on the bed, trying not to rush you. 
Your shirt was quickly discarded, and you weren’t wearing a bra. Matt placed soft kisses all over your chest, making sure to kiss and suck your sensitive nipples. 
A soft whimper left your mouth. He continued to suck your buds, making a string of whimpers exit your mouth. He smirked in satisfaction and continued to trail kisses down your naked torso until he reached your shorts. 
“May I?” he asked. You desperately nodded your head. He shimmied your pants and panties down in one motion. 
“You look so pretty like this,” he said softly, planting kisses on the inside of your thighs. He trailed down slowly, getting closer to your core with each kiss.  
“Matt please-” you whimpered impatiently. He chuckled. “Patience my love.” he continued kissing the insides of your thighs, until finally, he reached your core. 
He licked up a strip from your hole to your clit, making you gasp out a moan. “You taste so good ma.” He flicked his tongue on your sensitive bud, then fully attached his lips to your clit.  
You moaned and squeezed your thighs around his head, subconsciously rocking your hips against his mouth. You grabbed his hair, moaning out his name. 
“Oh my god- Matt-” you moaned. He suddenly added and finger into your hole, then two. Your hips jerked slightly when he started to pump them in and out of you. 
“You like my fingers, yeah?” You moaned in response.  
“I wanted to hear your pretty voice baby.”  
“Matt, i-it feels so good. Mm- right there.” you could feel your legs shake. Matt curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made things feel unreal. You out a loud moan, jerking your hips.  
“There it is,” Matt smirked. He continued hitting the spot, making stars burst into your visions. You couldn’t even control what came out of your mouth. Your moans and whimpers were pouring out like water. 
You could feel your orgasm coming close. “Matt, I need to cum,” You moaned out. He smirked and re-attached his mouth to your clit, his fingers still working inside you. 
All this did was make you moan louder. “Matt I’m cumming-” you were cut off by your orgasm. Matt slowly pumped his fingers; help you ride it out. 
You could feel your juices all over your thighs, and as he sat up, he was licking it off his fingers. “You taste good baby.” He leaned down to kiss you, making you taste yourself. 
Soon after, he got up to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he was in his pjs, and he had a wet rag. He opened your legs and started cleaning you up. 
When he was done, he helped you put your t-shirt and panties back on, and he wrapped the two of you in the blanket, hugging his hands on your waist. 
“That’s a cute bear,” He murmured into your neck. You smiled. “I got it at the mall.” he sighed. “Sorry for ruining your time at the mall. I loved going with you.”  
You smiled softly. “It’s okay. We can always go some other time.” He mumbled an okay and an ‘i love you,’ and fell asleep. 
This is lowkey my favorite thing ive writen. 
tags- l34n theyluvme-2315 tillies33ssss maya555sblog alorsxsturn blahbel668 @nyktoxs-lover strnilolo hearteyesformatt 19rose19
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a-small-safe-place · 5 months
Text
New Addition
Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader
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You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.
“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.
“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”
Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.
“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.
The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”
“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”
“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.
Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.
Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.
"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."
"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.
"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.
"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.
"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.
As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.
Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.
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ssahotchnerr · 9 months
Note
Hiya Katie! How about domestic Aaron pampering her when he find out she's pregnant and jack makes her a get well soon card because he thinks she's sick but she tells him he's going to be a big brother and jacks ecstatic and Aaron is just like all smiley and happy about being a father again and maybe hoping for a girl because hotch is such a girl dad like 🤭🤭 also I love your work so much! It makes my day! Your an amazing writer ❤
newest addition
thank you so much & ughh that's the sweetest <3333 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, pregnancy, reference to vomiting wc; 1.1k
"buddy, what are you doing?"
you've been awake for awhile now, unwilling to part from the comfort of bed. your eyes are still closed, and in curiosity, you keep them that way.
"i made mom a get-well card." jack's voice is closer than aaron's, and you can hear him shuffling at your bedside. you hear a soft crinkle of a paper, a quick stagger of your water glass, as he sets the paper against it. "i heard her throwing up this morning, so i wanted to make her feel better."
morning sickness has been your worst enemy so far during your pregnancy. it was what made you question if you were pregnant at the very start, and has been frequently reoccurring throughout your first trimester. it feels like the majority of your time these days is either spent in the bathroom, or in bed absolutely overwhelmed with nausea.
if permitting - when you're leant over the toilet, aaron is always seated on the bathroom floor beside you; rubbing your back in soothing circles, holding back your hair when necessary, whispering an apology or words of encouragement. you insist he doesn't need to be present, the sounds and visual of you retching surely disgusting nonetheless. but he insists he remain put, joking it's rather romantic actually, there's no place he'd rather be.
but in all seriousness, he claims it's the least he could do, and wants to support you in all and any way he can.
even this morning at promptly five am, you had made a mad dash to the bathroom. aaron, never the light sleeper, accompanied you in the bathroom just as quickly as you had entered it.
his tenderness doesn't stop there; he'll grab your ginger ale, crackers, pretzels, anything to relieve your queasiness and keep it at bay. he even joked (but did consider) with the idea of buying you a mini fridge to keep in your bedroom - for even easier access. or if he's not home, you don't have to search far.
the two of you have known about your new littlest addition for a few weeks, and couldn't be more ecstatic. jack - not just yet. but you figure that's a case that will soon be remedied.
you can hear a soft chuckle escape from aaron, and you can easily picture the smile you know is on his face. "that's real nice of you bud, i know she'll love it. but in the meantime, c'mon, let's let her sleep, yeah?"
you hear jack's sock-covered feet pad away on the carpet, the sound of the door softly shutting following soon after.
you fall back asleep without meaning to, exhaustion reigning over your body. but an hour later, and after tearfully looking at jack's card, his scribbly print wishing you well and a doodle of yourself and him, you find the two of them in the living room; jack's on the carpet, busied by legos, while aaron's on the couch, watching some show on the television.
aaron notices you before jack does, raising an eyebrow slightly in question - silently seeking confirmation on how you are feeling now.
you give him a nod, and he seems to relax more against the back of the couch. as you join him, jack's eyes lift.
"c'mere," you pat the empty spot between you and aaron, and soon enough, jack's sandwiched between the two of you, curled more so into your side. aaron grabs the remote, clicking off the tv.
"thank you so much for the card." you place a kiss on the top of his head, your arm going around his shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "you're the sweetest, have i ever told you that?"
"all the time." jack says, his emphasis making you laugh gently. but concern quickly fills his face, his eyes a bit troubled. "are you sick?"
you shake your head, brushing some hair away from his forehead. "nope."
the concern is now replaced by confusion. his eyebrows furrow, making him look extremely like this father. "why'd you throwed up?"
"well..." you exchange a look with aaron, glancing at him overtop jack's head. there's a smile tugging at his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes. "sometimes... it happens. when you're going to have a baby."
it takes jack a few seconds to internalize what you've just told him. but his head whips up to look at you, and then aaron, and then back to you. his eyes are wide. "a baby?"
"a baby." aaron confirms, arching an eyebrow in question. "any objections to being a big brother?"
"no!" jack vigorously shakes his head, his face lighting up even more, grinning from ear to ear. "really?!"
you grin right back. "really."
jack nearly jumps right onto you in excitement, aaron's hands flying out to catch him so the fall isn't as forceful. his gentle warning of careful, is barely audible over jack's next inquiry.
"is it a girl?!"
"we don't know yet," aaron answers, his voice catching slightly which prompts your gaze to switch to him. there's tears threatening his eyes, pooling at his waterline. you swear, you've never seen him so happy.
you help him, adding on, "we'll find out in a few more weeks."
jack nods at this information, still buzzing. "i really really want a sister. but a brother would be super cool too."
aaron nudges jack with his elbow, lips quirking into a smile. "i really, really do too. but more than anything, a healthy baby is what we want."
"a healthy baby." jack agrees, with a small nod of his head. his arms wrap around yourself, burying his face slightly into your abdomen. "that's so cool! i can't wait."
now it's your turn to look at aaron, tearful.
somehow, now that jack is aware, your family feels more complete. you and aaron have talked about growing your family, have discussed it with jack, for as long as you can remember - what it'll be like, having another little hotchner running around and causing havoc, potential names have been tossed around, jack wants to teach his expertises, legos and soccer. you’re eager to see a newborn in aaron’s arms, the new-dad-to-another glow present in him. at the time, it was distant; all memories to hopefully be made someday.
that time, that someday, has finally arrived. and if jack's reaction is anything to go by, you just know, the two of them will the absolute best of friends.
you can’t wait, either.
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moncherellie · 10 months
Text
try it on (+ ai audios)
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a/n: girl. i know ive only posted smut so far but i promise i have 2 fluff coming + a req. req are open beeteedubs >:) sorry if the audios are fucky wucky, i just learned to use the program. requests are open n encouraged :D
-content/warnings: 782 words, semipublic sex in a fitting room, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), kinda bratty/annoyed!r, ellie is way too cocky lmao, my slight hand kink showing, gn reader but has a pussy
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Ellie Williams knew she was hot- the hungry look girls gave her as she walked past was proof enough. She knew her veiny arms drove her hookups crazy, knew her slim fingers hit all the spots to make someone shudder, and knew her hair pulled back into that signature half-up was perfect for gripping as she dug her face in a pussy.
And because Ellie knew she was attractive, she knew there were certain things she could get away with. Ever the witty and observant one, she could manipulate her actions in a way to get you riled up in record time, and it pissed you the hell off. Especially when she would utilize this skill during the most inconvenient of times.
You really just wanted to have a nice mall day with her. Walk around, window shop, pick up some trinkets, and maybe grab some Wetzel's Pretzels if you were feeling risqué. But no, Ellie had to insist that she wanted to spoil you by buying a new lingerie set.
"Babe, c'mon, I just got my paycheck. Let me blow some cash on you, yeah?" She stretches her arms in front of her, interlocking her fingers as she shamelessly showed off her lean build. Slut.
You roll your eyes. "You're the worst with money management."
"Well, I'm doing it anyways. So come with me or don't." You know she's not kidding. Might as well go help her out, right?
All it took was one lacy, forest-green set to drive her nuts. Ellie man-spreads on the dressing room bench, all but eye-fucking you. She stands and comes up behind you, purring compliments into your ear, hands roaming your body: caressing, squeezing, pushing your legs apart. Her breath is hot on your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
"Babe", she sighs, "Look at you. You look like a fuckin' angel, you know?" Her teeth graze the crook of your neck as you attempt to shoot her a dirty look.
"Don't even. Not right now." Even as you weakly protest, her hand trails to your inner thigh and traces soft patterns into your sensitive skin.
That was how you ended up leaning against the door of a Victoria's Secret fitting room. The door shook violently with every tremble of your body despite your best efforts to be as subtle as possible. Your right leg was hooked over Ellie's shoulder as she crooked her fingers inside you. You bit your hand to stop from making noise.
Ellie looks up at you with the most infuriating grin, as if to say I knew you couldn't resist me. You roll your eyes but don't say anything. She's already down there, so she might as well make herself useful.
She sees your little eye roll and pulls out, shoving her fingers back in harshly, the base of her palm coming into contact with your clit as you hold back a scream. "Hate that bratty attitude of yours." She mutters.
"Says you!" You hiss.
The dressing room is deathly silent apart from the soulless corporate music over the loudspeakers, so if someone listened closely, past the electronic squeaking of The Chainsmokers, they'd hear the repeated slapping of Ellie's fingers against your skin.
Her thumb rubs your clit as she thrusts at a nearly inhuman pace, and your eyes roll back into your head. You leave bite marks on your hand. Ellie's stupid, arrogant, sexy face grins up at you, slightly flushed and eyes glinting in the harsh fluorescents. With no warning, she pulls the leg hooked over her shoulder closer, shoving your pussy in her face and kitten-licking your clit, sending you over the edge.
You can't hold back the animalistic moan that comes from the back of your throat, and Ellie slaps her free hand over your mouth, slyly smiling up at you as she fucks you through your orgasm. You try to shove her away, overstimulated, but her grip on your thigh tightens.
"Stop, 'm cleaning you up."
You groan, holding her stupid little bun as she continues. When she finally pulls away and your leg comes off her shoulder, it's asleep, thousands of little pinpricks across your thigh. She gives a gentle kiss to your forehead and chuckles as you limp to take off the lingerie set and shuffle on your clothes.
"Aw, did I blow your back out?"
"No, Ellie, my leg is asleep. Asshole." She smacks your ass and picks up the now-crumpled underwear.
You sigh and unlock the stall door, Ellie trailing behind you. When you get to the front of the dressing room, the employee smiles brightly, asking, "Did everything work out?"
Your eyes flicker to Ellie's stupid smirk because you just know she's gonna say something stupid.
You're right.
"Yeah, I think this one's a keeper."
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spikedhe4rt · 10 months
Note
I need dating Darry hcs. NSFW and SFW
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Darry Curtis x Reader Headcanons 🪸🪸
A/N: I hope yall enjoy this, I also have a darry smut coming out soon. My request box is always open!! Love you guys<3
✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❥ You met eachother while he fixed your roof, which your family helped you pay for.
❥ You kept making excuses to come outside and talk to him.
"Hey, Darry" you yelled out to make sure he could hear you from the roof. He responded with a loud "yea?" I smiled at his voice. "I made you lemonade and homemade pretzels.
❥ You started to invite him inside the house and talk more
❥ You were highly upset when he finished your roof, you knew you would miss him.
❥ He asked you out on his last day because he took so much interest in you.
❥ You both wanting to take it slow, because he had his brothers to look out for.
❥ Meeting Soda and Pony, and them taking a liking to you.
❥ Visiting his parents grave with him for support.
Darry gave a sad chuckle as he finished a story about the time his parents bought him his first bike. "They sound amazing, Dare" you gave him a loving smile before a tears ran down his cheeks. "They were. I just really miss them sometimes."
You nodded and brought him in for a hug. Once the hug ended, his lips found their way to your forehead, kissing it softly. "Thank you for coming with me."
❥ Trying to keep a serious face when he lectures Pony over the silliest things.
"Ponyboy, how many times do I have to tell you...you can't leave your stuff anywhere. You left your book on the floor and Soda slipped on it." You truly tried to hold it in, but once he said Soda fell, you lost it. Wheezes came out as you tried to control yourself. You were met with the eyes of shocked and mildly offended Darry as he stared.
❥ You calming him down with kisses.
❥ Holding hands when you walk together.
❥ He will fix anything for you. He basically refuses to ever let you hire a maintenance man because he claims he can do it.
❥ Thinks about what you like when he buys groceries.
"Since when did any of us like Pringles, Darry?" Pony asked with a face of pure confusion. Darry grabbed the can of salty crisps from his hand "Y/n likes them, tell the rest of the boys not to eat them either" Pony nodded to his older brother, smiling at the fact that he cares enough about you to do that.
❥ Random slow dancing when you guys get bored. It seems cheesy to others but it makes you guys feel like the only people in the room.
❥ Him randomly picking you up just because he can.
❥ You running your hands along his abs under his shirt when you guys sit together.
❥ You two always making sure Johnny is safe and taken care of.
❥ Him promising that he will put a ring on your finger one day.
  ✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❥ He loves any physical marks on you both. Hickeys, bite marks, bruises, scratches make him go crazy.
❥ He loves how much bigger he is so he can bend and take you how he needs to easily.
❥ Is strong enough to keep/hold your hips down while he eats you out and overstimulates you.
“Im gonna cum!” I panted out for the second time tonight. My hips bucked up into Darrys face again, as continued too suck my throbbing clit through my high. Two hands snaked around my thighs, making he secure as he continued. “Give me a couple more, hon”
❥ Will not cum until you have at-least once because he puts you first.
❥ Takes his stress out in the best ways, the bedroom
❥ Burys his face in your neck and moans when he cums.
❥ Grabs your chin to force eye contact when you can't look at him.
"Look at me, baby." Darrys fingers were thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your head was over his shoulder and tucked into his neck, trying not moan out loudly. "Please-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand on your chin, making you look him. "You look so pretty like this. Keep looking at me, just like that." His words made you whimper, grinding into his thick fingers.
❥ Loves to cum on your ass after taking you from behind.
❥ He will whimper while getting head from you.
❥ Holds your hips and bounces you up-down when you get tired when riding him.
"Fuck, Darry!" you panted out, grinding your hips down on him. "Im tired, Dar" your movements came to a halt as you tried to catch your breath. "I gotchu, hon. I always do." His large hands came to your hips and slowly moved you up and down on his cock. "Faster please" you moaned out as your hands came down to steady yourself. "There you go, baby. Such a good girl for me"
✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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cameronspecial · 3 months
Text
Let Me Get Them For You, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.9K
Summary: Rafe never hesitates to get Y/N what she wants.
A/N: Inspired by this post.
Masterlist
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Even though Y/N has told Rafe countless times, he does the best he can to be a provider for her, buying her food, clothes, books, scientific equipment he doesn’t understand what it does and anything else he can think of. He will literally do everything in his power to get her the whole world. They are at the mall shopping for a new leather jacket for him. They’ve been there for a few hours, taking their time to peruse around the stores. Her stomach begins to cry out its need for sustenance. As they continue to the next store, a delicious buttery and salty smell enters the air. Her head turns in the direction of where this sensory stimulus is coming from. The small glance toward Auntie Anne’s Pretzels does not go unnoticed by her boyfriend. He pauses immediately, yet she continues to walk, so he loops his arm through her to pull her back to his side. “What’s wrong?” she questions with a tilt of her head. He points toward the pretzel store, “I’m hungry. Why don’t we get a snack? A cheese one, right?” “You know me so well,” she beams. He chuckles and presses his lips against her temple. He leads her toward the register and orders their salty snack. 
———
It is no secret that Y/N is an avid reader. Her TBR list is in the hundreds and it continues to grow. Rafe’s mission is to make that list dwindle to zero, despite what Y/N might say. Sometimes, he’ll add books to that list by himself. The couple is hanging out in the library. She is studying and he is only there to keep her company. An hour into her studying session he pulls her away from her textbooks and notes to take a break and eat a snack. Her eyes wander while she nibbles on the cheese and crackers he hands to her, landing on a book cover that catches her eyes. The pink-themed watercolour cover features a forest with a rope bridge. It’s beautiful and the title is quite simple. Unravel Me. Rafe sees her attention isn’t on him and follows the gaze to the novel in another person's hands. She moves her eyes back to him, but he still takes note of the title. After the snack, she goes back to studying and he focuses on his phone. He decides to search for the book and finds out it is a hockey romance series. It sounds right up Y/N’s alley, so he orders Topper to go to the store and buy her the full set.
———
The most outrageous example of Rafe being Rafe when it comes to buying Y/N things is when he orders expensive objects for her right on the spot. It is date night and he decides to take her to the new upscale bar that opened up off campus. He pulls her chair out for her, allowing her to hop onto the tall chair. While she tells him about her tests, her eyes are trained on something at the bar. She must really like whatever she is looking at because she stands from the chair and approaches a woman. Rafe is right behind her, resting his hand on the small of Y/N’s back. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but I really like your bag. Where did you get it?” she asks the redhead. The other woman grins and holds her bag up, “Thank you! It’s from Coach. I can’t remember what it’s called though. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. You gave me enough to go off of. Thank you so much. Have a nice night,” Y/N bids goodbye to her. Throughout the whole interaction, Rafe’s attention is on his phone. They get back to their table and he holds up his screen to her. The Coach website is pulled up on Safari with a picture of a light tan bag that has a dragon on it. Boxed New Year Rogue 25 With Dragon is written above the picture along with the price of $1,090.
“This is the one you want, right?” he confirms. Her eyes widen at the price, “Yes, but I didn’t know it was that expensive. I like it, just not for that price.” He ignores her worries and goes back to typing on his phone. “Look at this one. I’m gonna get it for you too. I think it’s cute,” he tells her, sliding his phone across the table to her. She sees two items in his cart: the dragon purse and the heart bag in regenerative leather. The total amount before tax is $1,490, which is completely outrageous to her. She shakes her head, “You can’t buy these, Rafe. This is way too much.” “Come on, let me get them for you, Angel. You know money is no issue for me,” he pleads, giving her the best puppy eyes he can.
“It’s not an issue for me. What am I going to do with something so luxurious?”
“Look like an absolute queen while you flaunt it around. Show other men that I can provide for you. Hand it over to me while you put your lip gloss on, so you can mark your territory. You deserve this luxury and so many more, Angel.”
“This is really important to you. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, so… what do you say?”
“Fine. You can get them.”
A smirk craves itself onto his face and he puts in his credit card information to finalize the purchase. He shows her the shipping information, “It should be here by next week, Angel.” “Thank you, Rafe. I can’t wait to use them,” she shows her gratitude by giving him a kiss.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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ragingbookdragon · 6 months
Text
Someday We'll Be All That We Need
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst
Author's Note: I made a new friend so I made that friend a fic. @temeyes <3 -Thorne
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Other than the shivering, Simon doesn’t so much as twitch in the corner they’re huddled in. She’s cold herself, but nothing feels as terrifying as losing the man wedged in between her thighs, head resting against her chest. The bleeding has stopped though, the bullet wound plugged well enough that him exsanguinating is the least of her worries—it’s the ever-dropping temperature and the broken-down cabin that scares her.
It was thirty degrees Fahrenheit when the mission started; the last reading was ten and dropping. The cabin they’d taken shelter in was worn down, broken windows and missing ceiling allowing streams of frigid winter air and snow to fall in and continue to chill their bones. Simon had sealed his wound and managed to stay awake but with the blood loss he’d suffered and the stress, fatigue had set in, and that’s when she’d found herself curled up in the corner with the emergency blanket from her kit wrapped around his torso, his body wedged up against hers, trying to conserve energy and heat.
The comms had gone down, Simon’s radio busted in a skirmish of hand to hand with an enemy, and she had only managed to get one SOS out before the line cut off. They were alone in the middle of enemy territory, in a temperature-dropping environment, wounded and unable to call for help. Her worst fears were coming alive.
She swallowed thickly, shaking the thoughts away, and readjusted her grip on Simon, jostling him awake in the process. “Alrigh’, love?” he murmured lowly, tongue lazy and slow; he only called her love when they were alone and serious.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “You?”
“Back’s killin’ me.”
She huffed a laugh. “I bet it is. You’re folded like a pretzel.”
Simon shifted, or tried to, and rested his head on her shoulder. “How long’s it been since I feel asleep?”
“Maybe an hour?” she blinked, looking around the room; snow was beginning to pile up where the holes in the ceiling dropped to the floor. “I haven’t really been paying attention to the time.”
“Hmm.” He breathed into her neck. “I can’t feel my toes.”
Her eyes shifted to his feet, and she let out a breath, a mixture of shock and fear. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” he admitted. “‘s bad, love. Spreading up.”
“Motherfucker,” she laughed in disbelief and wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Price heard the SOS. He’s coming, okay? Just…just keep it together until then.”
Simon swallowed thickly; his eyes still shut as he nudged her neck with his mask-covered nose. “Got a safety deposit box back in Manchester,” he muttered. “Key’s in my nightstand back at base.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Got ‘bout five-hundred thousand pounds in’it.” He shifted again as if trying to get into her skin to be warmer. “Deed to a property in Herefordshire. Got it a few years ago when I was staying with Price.”
“Simon, stop,” she warned—she knew exactly what he was doing.
“Want you to get out and go live there. You’ve served long enough to get pension. You’ll be set for the rest of your life out there.”
“No. Not without you I won’t.”
He shook his head. “I don’ think I’m comin’ back, love. Not this time.”
“Don’t say that,” she stressed, turning her face to his. “They’re coming. We’ll be okay.”
Simon didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Want you to buy one of those big black Corso’s. Name her Morrigan. Let her take care of you and the land.”
Tears began to gather in her eyes. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered. “Quit it.”
“I want you to listen. I want you to be taken care of. I want—”
“I want you alive,” she cut off. “Now shut up and save some energy.”
Simon cracked an eye open and simply gazed at her. “I love you. I know I didn’ say it enough. ‘m sorry, love.”
She clenched her jaw against the wave eating her chest inside out and inhaled deeply. “Simon, stop and rest. I won’t say it again.”
He let his eyes close and laid his head back down. “Alright, love.”
***
It was at least another two hours before noise echoed outside, and it drew her from a slumber she hadn’t realized she was in; she jolted up, Simon jostling with her. “Simon,” she whispered. “Someone’s outside.” He didn’t respond to her, and she pulled away, looking at him. “Simon?” he was asleep, unresponsive to any of the stimuli around him. “Fuck, Simon?” the noise outside grew louder, and she pushed past her fear and shifted from under him, tucking him against the wall as she grabbed her gun and rose to her feet.
Kneeling down, she put a hand against his face. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise.” She swallowed. “I’m coming right back, Simon.”
She rose again and headed for the door, cracking it open and slipping outside as a vehicle pulled up; tucking behind the railing, she breathed deeply and lifted her head, catching sight of a few men exiting.
Before she could even raise her weapon, she heard, “Contact!”
Ducking again, she cocked her rifle and listened as the others did the same, obviously hiding behind shelter themselves. It had to be the rest of that enemy squad that she failed to take out when Simon got injured. Fuck, she only had one mag left and she was running on fumes herself. She had to be quick. She had to be careful. She had—
“Identify yourself, or we will shoot!”
Wait, that sounded like—
“I will not say it again! Identify yourself or—”
“Price!” she called and peeked over the railing. “Price, it’s me! It’s me!”
Soap and Gaz appeared on the other side of the SUV. “Athena?”
She felt tears gather in her eyes as she stood up and lowered her gun. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so glad to see you guys.”
Price stopped in front of her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Good to see you. Where’s Simon?”
Simon.
Her heart dropped. “Fuck.” She turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cabin and to the corner, the men on her heels; she got to him first and dropped to her knees, shaking him. “Simon! Simon, wake up!”
He didn’t move.
“Simon!” she called again, lifting her cold fingers to his neck. Whether it was her own anxiety or him, she couldn’t feel a thing and she started panicking. “I can’t get a pulse!” she turned to them. “I can’t wake him up!”
Soap pulled her back as Price and Gaz got to work and she thrashed in his arms. “LET GO!”
“Lass, calm down!”
“LET GO! SIMON!” she screamed, her own vision beginning to haze, exhaustion weighing taking its toll.
“We’ve gotta start compressions,” she heard Gaz say and he looked at Price. “He’s not going to make it back if we don’t do something now.”
Price looked back. “Soap, get her in the SUV, we’ll prep Simon for transport.”
“Aye, sir,” Soap said and hefted her up against her thrashing.
“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND! LET GO OF ME GODDAMNIT!”
“Lass, you can’t help him even if you wanted to.”
Her body felt like lead and she felt her limbs going numb as her breathing kicked into a wildness, head light and heavy all at the same time. She kept trying to get out of his arms when Price tossed a syringe his way, and a prick to her arm drew blackness into all sides of her gaze, the last thing she saw was Gaz yanking open Simon’s gear to press his hands to his chest.
***
There was an impossibly annoying beeping going off on the side of Simon’s bed and she had half a mind to kick him in his hip and gripe at him to turn it off; she managed to mumble something akin to it but when the beeping didn’t stop, she managed with great effort to crack her eyes open, only to be met with the sterile walls of a medical room.
It all came back in an instant and she sat up straight, yanking the IV out of arm, the oxygen tube from her nose, rolling from the bed. Her knees kissed the floor and pain seared up her legs as she scrambled for the door, only to fall again, but she crawled on her hands and knees to the handle. Lifting herself, she pulled the door open and leaned heavily on the wall of the hallway as she stumbled down, looking in every room for her lover.
“Simon!” she called weakly; the mission had taken its toll on her. She was weak, far beyond her own capacity and she was barely standing as it was. “Simon!” she yelled again, and Soap stuck his head out from a door about five doors down.
“Athena? Holy shite, you shouldn’t be up!” he made it to her, trying to help her, but she pushed past him.
“Where’s Simon?”
“Love, you need to go back to—”
“WHERE IS HE!”
Soap recoiled and recovered, gently wrapping his arm around her. “He’s down here. Still asleep.” His grip was steel. “I’ll take you to him.”
“I can—”
“You either let me help or I take you back to your room.”
She fell silent and let him, that was until she turned the corner of Simon’s room, and darted from his arms, barely managing to avoid face-planting into the hospital bed railing as she clambered onto the bed with the man.
“Simon?” she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands; he was so warm now. Tears seeped down her cheeks. “Simon, sweetheart?” she said again, pressing her head to his chest to feel his steady heartbeat thumping beneath; a choked sound of happiness escaped her, and she looked at Soap. “He’s alive.”
He smiled at her. “Yeah, love, he’s alive.”
“He’s okay?”
“Eh, we’re a little worried about his toes, but so far yeah.”
She buried her face in Simon’s chest, crying into the gown he wore, and grabbed one of his hands; she squeezed it tightly, relief flooding her as his fingers tightened around hers in his sleep.
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frankenkyle19 · 7 months
Text
The Twinkie Thief
Peter Maximoff x fan!reader smut
word count: 8.4k!!
warnings/description: Smut, handjobs, oral (male and fem receiving), Use of peter’s powers in bed, hair pulling, begging, Peter being a cocky brat, teasing. Reader hosts a college party and a certain speedster stops by trying to steal some twinkies… Enjoy!
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You’d been planning this party for months. Well- okay not months, maybe like… a few weeks, but in your defense it sure felt longer than that. It was your first time hosting a college party, despite being in your third year. You shared an apartment with three of your friends just off of campus. Having roommates wasn’t always great, but it made the rent cheap and that obviously made it well worth it. You were a broke college student and you definitely didn’t make enough money to rent your own apartment. It was a three level house. With a main floor, an upstairs, and a downstairs. The basement had been transformed into a little hangin’ cave where you were currently setting up the chips and drinks for the party, trying to distract yourself and keep your buzzing nerves at bay.
Doritos, pretzels, tortilla chips and salsa, various sodas and punch as well as alcohol sat on the table. Beer, vodka, all the cheap shit you could buy at the nearest gas station. It didn’t need to be good, college kids didn’t care for good alcohol, they just needed it to get them drunk. Especially at a party. 
You weren’t sure who all would come to the party and a bubble of anxiety slowly built up inside you. What if no one showed up? Currently you were home alone because your roommates were all out doing their own thing and would be coming home much later. That’s why you had decided to have the party, but now? What if some creepy pervert dude was the first to arrive and you were forced to hang out with him until the next person came? You tried your best to ignore the screaming in the back of your mind as you finished setting up, taking a handful of chips to eat as you made your way back up the stairs. 
The house was modern and sparsely decorated but still homey. You’d luckily put away anything valuable or breakable because god forbid something gets broken. 
As time went on you came to the realization that maybe this wasn’t the best idea… but it was too late to go back now. Surely it’d be fine. How bad could it be?
You finished the handful of chips right as the first knock of the night sounded through the house, causing you to jump a bit before making your way towards the door, just praying it wasn’t some creep. 
And luckily, it wasn’t. 
It was a group of three younger college girls, all smiling brightly the second the door was open. They didn’t say much to you as they scurried inside the house, out of the cold as they shivered a bit. They led themselves downstairs, talking amongst themselves and not really paying you any mind at all. Wow. Kinda rude. 
Soon the pace started picking up and in no time the basement was full of chatter and bodies as people laughed and drank, talking about the latest gossip. 
You’d long since abandoned your post at the door, figuring people would let themselves in, and they did exactly that. 
You had made your way downstairs, a drink in hand as you looked at the crowd. It was a good turnout, nearly every corner of the dimly lit room was occupied by groups of people talking about one thing or another, sipping from solo cups and snacking on mini pretzels and Doritos. The sight had you smiling. This was going exactly how you wanted it.
To be honest, you weren’t a super social person but one thing you did enjoy was people watching. So seeing all the different people here made for a fun activity. Hearing whispers of conversations, not able to make out much as other noises drowned out the words into a jumbled mess of sounds. You were planning on just sitting in a corner, sipping your drink for the rest of the night as you kept a close eye on the party goers, making sure they didn’t break anything. 
That’s how it went for a few hours. You sipped at your  drink, going in and out of the basement to get refills on chips and ice for the drinks every so often. Overall, it was a success. 
On one of these trips upstairs to get a break from the crowd and the noise, you caught the shadow of what appeared to be a man in your kitchen. Unease settled over you like a dark storm cloud as you crept closer to the kitchen, back up against the wall as you swallowed hard, heartbeat uneven and frantic.
You knew it was most likely someone from the party who had either gotten there late, or had snuck upstairs. Maybe he needed a break. Just like you. But the idea of a random man in your kitchen, which, keep in mind, was dark, made you uneasy. 
You crept to the entrance of the kitchen, hand moving slowly towards the light switch, ready to bolt back downstairs if you were in any danger. 
The man froze when you flicked the light on, bathing him in the yellow light. And that’s when you saw it..
It wasn’t some random creeper that had snuck into your kitchen and was waiting for everyone else to leave so he could like- kill you- 
It was a certain silver haired mutant superhero that you may or may not have had a small (huge) obsession with. 
Peter Maximoff… aka Quicksilver. 
Okay rewind- what in the fresh hell was Peter Maximoff doing in your kitchen? 
You both just stood still, staring at each other unblinking, each waiting for the other to say or do something. 
Peter had an armful of little, wrapped cake snacks that had been quite literally stolen from your pantry, giving you a shy, remorseful smile. 
“Uh… Hi-” Peter said, swallowing hard as he set the snacks on the counter with an embarrassing grin. 
You just blinked a few times, unable to think of any words. What does someone say in this situation? When a literal superhero was stealing snacks from your kitchen. Nothing in your life had ever prepared you for this..
“I- Hi?” You said, an eyebrow quirked as you took in the look of the man in front of you. Yup it really was him. Not just some creep dressed as him. He was the real deal. 
“You can uh- you can take anything you want… Mr. Maximoff” You said with a shy smile, playing with your hands as you tried to keep calm. 
Peter blinked in surprise. Oh. So you knew exactly who he was. Great. Of course you did. That made this even more embarrassing. A superhero sneaking into a party to steal some cake snacks? He would never live this down if anyone else found out.
“No I just- uh- was just- organizing… the pantry. It was a bit messy..” he said, trying to lie his way out of the situation. 
“Mhm. Yeah okay.” You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head. You didn’t believe that lie for one second and the thought of a silver haired speedster trying to get away with a lie despite being caught red (silver?) handed made you chuckle. 
“Okay okay ya got me- I’m a thief-“ he raised his hands over his head in surrender, sighing in defeat. The gig was up. 
You raised a brow, watching him curiously. He was so… Down to earth? You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t act like a famous person… he just acted… Normal. Maybe you were a bit naive as to what someone like Peter should act like, but he was definitely much different than what you had imagined. In a good way of course.
And it didn’t help with your obsession with him. You almost wanted him to be rude or full of himself. It’d be easier to get over this little (big) obsession with him. But no. Of course he had to be perfect. 
“It’s okay- if you want one you can have it- really-“ you said, taking a few more steps into the kitchen, the background music from downstairs making the silence between the two of you seem not so awkward. 
Peter didn’t waste any time after that. He snatched a Twinkie off the counter and unwrapped it before shoving half of it into his mouth, some of the cream smearing on the sides of his mouth. If it was anyone else, it would be kinda gross, but because it was him, it was endearing. 
“So why exactly are you… Here?” You asked and Peter held up a finger to signal to let him finish chewing the snack cake before he began to explain.
“I heard about a party goin’ on here and thought hey, I’m sure there’s snacks. So I came. And I was right.” He shook the other half of the Twinkie that was in his hands before shoving it into his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the trash can and wiping off his fingers on his silver jacket. 
“Okay but the party is downstairs-“
“I didn’t think you’d mind if I just took a few.” He interrupted, already on his way to opening another hostess snack. 
He was bold. Very bold. And pretty cocky too. A drastic change from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. All shy and apologetic. Was that just a hoax? A trick? 
“I mean- I don’t- but it’s not just every day when I get a superhero in my kitchen.” 
“So you rent this place? It’s pretty bangin’ I gotta say.”
“I have roommates. But they aren’t here right now.” Why did that sound so suggestive? Jesus Christ…
Peter nodded, looking around the kitchen and examining it now that the light was on, leaning against the marble counter.
“So this is your party then I take it?” He asked, eyebrow quirked as he turned back to face you. It was weird making eye contact with the speedster just because you never expected to actually be this close to him. 
“Mhm, my first college party actually..” you said a bit shyly. He was trying to keep up a conversation with you… but why? Did he actually care? Possibly?
“First?”
“Well the first one I’ve hosted I mean- I’ve- I’ve been to lots of parties before-“ you paused “not like a lot a lot! I’m not like a crazy party person- I have…” you wanted to bang your head against the wall.
“I’ve gone to the normal amount of parties that a college person does.” You said, a blush dusting over your cheeks. Way to embarrass yourself in front of your crush. Your superhero crush at that…
“Coolio- and hey, between us, I don’t judge. I like party girls.” Peter winked. 
Your brain has just short circuited. Either you were delusional or the man was flirting with you. The way he winked? There was no way. 
You gawked at him for a moment before chuckling “yeah, hah… parties are pretty fun- you go to them often?” You asked curiously, trying to not be so fucking awkward.
“Eh, depends. When I’m free I usually just zoom in to steal some snacks- which was exactly what I was doing before you caught me.”
“Okay well the party snacks are downstairs. At the party.” You said, sarcasm dripping from your tone and it caused Peter to grin. He liked your attitude. Feisty. Just the way he liked his women. Not that he… No.. He totally wasn’t attracted to some random quicksilver fan.. Not at all. There had to be some sort of moral rule against that. 
Except… He was. He was totally and utterly attracted to you. 
Holy shit. He was truly and utterly fucked. Done for. Game is up, time to go- before he royally ruined this whole interaction.
But yet, he couldn’t get his mouth to just shut up. 
“Y’know what, I like ya. You’re down to earth, chill. Totally unfazed that I’m in yer kitchen right now.” 
You shook your head, looking up to meet his eye and trying not to get too lost in his sweet syrupy brown gaze. 
“Well I mean- I am- I’m just good at hiding it.” You admitted, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, an obvious thing you did when you were nervous.
Peter subtly, with his super speed, looked you over, trying not to make it too obvious that he was staring, but who wouldn’t? You were… Geesh words couldn’t even describe the way Peter felt when he saw you. His literal dream girl, and you were interested in him? At least wanting to talk to him… not like… romantically or anything crazy like that.
But you were. You were both acting pretty dumb at the moment, dancing around the sexual tension that literally anyone could cut with a knife. How did it happen that the two of you were so damn oblivious? It’s like the universe was holding up a big sign that said “Fuck Already!” And somehow the two of you were both blind.
Peter stretched his hands over his head, revealing a sliver of silver hairs that led under his waistband to-
No. You needed to get your mind out of the gutter. There was no way Quicksilver out of anyone was going to fuck you. No way. Not in a million years.
Peter zipped around the kitchen and for a moment you thought he’d left, until the breeze and silver settled and you saw him, now much closer than he was before.  
He was uncomfortably close, but you were… Okay with it. In fact you wanted him close to you. It had made your heartbeat speed up in your chest and your cheeks reden. 
You felt his breath on your neck and it made your hair stand on end, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you turned to face him.
He was taller than you, but your faces were only several inches apart, the feeling of his breath hit you, the leftover smell of the Twinkie he’d devoured a few minutes ago hitting your nose.
You blinked a few times, unsure of what to do or what to say. I mean… What do you do in a situation like this? You’d never experienced it before and doubted you ever would again. 
Peter glanced down at you, unblinking as he watched you before he spoke up
“Want a drink?” He asked, swallowing hard as he gestured to the rest of the alcohol that you hadn’t brought down to the party yet.
The tension was getting impossibly thicker between the two of you, a heat seeming to fall off of Peter in thick waves, filling the air. It was addicting.
You nodded, still not speaking as you watched him zip back around the kitchen, barely able to make out his outline as bottles shifted and moved from their places.
He was so… Interesting and you wondered what it was like to be able to move that fast. Did he have full control over it? Did he sometimes go too fast? Had he ever hurt himself by speeding around the way he did? These were all questions you longed to be answered but were too shy to ask. 
A few more seconds of him zooming around the kitchen and he was next to you again, holding a drink in either hand. You weren’t really sure what was in it, but you trusted he hadn’t done anything suspicious. I mean he was a superhero- superheroes didn’t like- drug drinks… Right?
“Here, it’s a sex on the beach- or well, my attempt at one. You didn’t have all the ingredients so I had to substitute a few things.”
By a few things did he mean everything? You’d had plenty of these drinks before and none of them ever looked the way the drink he held out to you did. It looked (smelled) like the only ingredient the two drinks had in common was vodka.
Still, you took the glass from him and smiled, taking a sip. It wasn’t horrible, he hadn’t added a lot of alcohol so it was mostly a mixer, but still you’d had plenty worse before.
He sipped his own drink, watching you over the rim of the glass, waiting to see how you’d react.
“Decent.” You shrugged, taking another sip.
Peter laughed in disbelief “Just decent babe? Wow, I’m offended.” He placed a hand on his heart dramatically and shook his head.
You were about to laugh when it dawned on you what he’d called you just now. Babe. Uhm.. pause. What? Why had he called you that? Did he call everyone that? Surely he did… Don’t get your hopes up so quickly. He was just being friendly.
You ignore it, giving him a friendly smile before taking another sip of your drink. Maybe it’d be nice to get drunk but you’d surely make a fool of yourself. You were already well on the way to doing that.
“So- you were really just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by?” You asked, swirling the remaining drink around, watching it slosh inside the glass.
Peter set his drink down on the counter, leaning against it as he nodded “Yup, could tell it was a party from a mile off so I decided to see what was goin’ on. Glad I did, you’re good company.” He grinned.
“I was honestly having a pretty boring night before you got here.” You admitted, setting your own half finished drink down close to his before glancing back at him. You were beginning to let your guard down and it made Peter smile.
“Aw I'm flattered that I’m the reason you’re havin’ a good time now.” He grinned, full of himself and cocky as ever. 
You rolled your eyes playfully at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around the kitchen.
“So uh- m’not usually like this but-“ He was blushing again… Quicksilver was blushing because of you? What was he trying to say that made his cheeks turn the color of ripe tomatoes?
“I’m catchin’ a vibe off ya. Y’know the whole fan thing- I just-“ He shook his head, bringing a hand down over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. Dammit Quickie, ruined it again from your big mouth.
At least… He thought he’d ruined it, and was so distracted by embarrassment that he hadn’t even noticed you’d stepped closer to him, standing right in front of him and staring up at him.
“Yeah, I’m sure I’m giving off that vibe-“ you took a deep breath and decided to continue, making a bolder choice of words. It was now or never.
“Not everyday you meet the person you dream about fucking every night.” You were only half teasing him, hoping you’d be able to play it off as a joke if it went the wrong way. 
Peter’s eyes were wide as he stared down at you and finally he made a good choice that night, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.
It took you several seconds to process but when you did, you nearly squealed with joy.
He tasted sweet like twinkies and just… Him. There was no other way to explain it really.
You kissed back for several seconds before pulling away to look up at him, eyes wide.
“Holy shit.” You whispered, glancing around the room once more to make sure no one had walked in on the two of you.
Peter, unbothered, leaned down to capture your lips once more, never wanting to stop kissing you. He deepened the kiss, a hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, a quiet moan slipping from his lips which caused him to blush even further.
He pulled you closer to him, a bit of urgency in his movements as he panted against your lips, worked up from the slightest bit of kissing.
“Quicksilver- n-not here we can’t. There’s people downstairs-“ you said, a surprised gasp leaving your throat as he started to plant kisses to your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to lock you in place.
“Tell ‘em to go. I need ya-“ he said, nipping ever so slightly at your collarbone as his hips connected with yours, his hard on brushing your leg.
“Okay okay okay slow down- is this really happening?” You asked, Peter never once stopping his assault on your neck, leaving marks that would surely result in bruises the next day.
“So fuckin’ real baby. I want it- if you do too-“ He added, his hands adventuring up the small of your back in an attempt to explore more of your body.
“Ya tellin’ me you don’t wanna clown around with yer favorite superhero?” He breathed against your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, wanting to memorize this moment.
“I do! I do want to- very very badly I just-there’s so many people downstairs- I don’t know what to do about that.” You said, reveling in the way his hot breath fanned across your skin.
“I’ve got an idea-“ He mumbled “just tell ‘em the cops are coming and they gotta clear out. Easy peasy baby, then we got the whole place to ourselves.” He grinned against your skin, much too eager for this.
“You think that’ll work?”
“Worth a shot at least.” He shrugged, groaning as you pulled away from him to face the basement door, ready to barge down there and tell everyone to leave. You’d do whatever you needed to to get Peter alone. 
Peter, as impatient as he was, didn’t wait for you to handle it and instead zoomed downstairs in a blur and several moments later people were running up the stairs, drinks in hand, obviously caught up in the moment and not expecting the news that police were going to be there any second.
The last person up the stairs was Peter himself, grinning from ear to ear, obviously proud that his plan had worked and the two of you were now alone. The second the last guest had scurried out the door, the threat of police crashing the party more than enough to get their drunk asses moving, peter pulled you into a bruising kiss, arching his hips against yours to try and get any desperately needed friction on his aching cock confined in the fabric prison that was his pants and boxers. He’d never wanted to be naked more in his entire life. Okay- maybe he had- but right now he felt as if he hadn’t. 
Your tongues fought for dominance and you inevitably won, backing Peter up against the kitchen counter before sinking to your knees. You were not wasting a second. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and with just how fast Peter moved, you weren’t sure how long you’d realistically have him here for. How often did you get to meet your idol and fuck him? The thought made your head spin. Like holy shit? Holy fucking shit. 
“Woahhh mama-“ Peter ran a large hand over his face, his dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes were nearly black as he watched you, his brain still trying to grasp the situation in which he was in. A quicksilver fan getting on their knees in front of him? Holy shit, someone pinch him. There was just no way this was actually happening. Like in all the years of his life he had never experienced something like this. Despite what some may think, Peter didn’t get laid a lot. He either didn’t have the time, or didn’t have the charm. And he was sure that realistically, this could have some serious repercussions.. Having sex with a fan? There weren’t any laws against that, right? Right? Fuck it, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Especially not with how eager you were.
You pulled his pants down to his knees, instantly scooting closer and mouthing over the cotton of his boxers, your tongue tracing the large length of him as he mewled above you pathetically. He was hot against you as you nuzzled your cheek against the length of him, a string of pre-cum leaked through his boxers and stained your cheek with a sticky, opaque fluid. 
“Holy shit- can’t believe this is actually happening to me right now-“ he mumbled, hands going behind him to  clutch the cold, marble counter his back was up against. Thank god for it. His legs were so shaky he was barely able to keep himself up and the embarrassing thing was you hadn’t even really done anything yet. Keep it together dude.
You pulled his boxers down in one quick motion, his cock springing to full attention now that it had been freed. He was hard as a rock, twitching and throbbing red, pre-cum spilling from the tip as it bobbed in the air, right in front of your face. Peter inhaled sharply at the cold air against his bare cock, but the second your warm hand wrapped around him? He was a goner. Total goner. Like thank the gods above? It felt sooo fucking good. Like… Too good.
“O-oh geez-“ He involuntarily jutted his hips into your touch, causing his cock to slide through the tight grip of your fingers with how slick it had become. 
You made eye contact with the speedster above you before leaning closer, licking over the head of his cock, collecting the pearl of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit, dripping down the side. 
He was salty and a bit bitter, but the sheer fact that you were getting to taste the Peter Maximoff’s cock made any disgust you may have initially had fly right out the damn window. 
Peter’s knees buckled the slightest bit, thighs quivering as he watched you with a kind of intensity and focus he didn’t even know he possessed. So he could focus. Just… only on things he really wanted to. Hah… As long as you didn’t tell any of the other X-men that. 
You continued your exploration of the speedy mutant's cock, pressing gentle feather light kisses to the head of his cock, which you soon learned was extremely sensitive.
“Mmm- please! Gentle! It’s so sensitive, baby!” He yelped, writhing in place as his knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the countertop.
You ignored his requests, wanting to see just how worked up you could get him, your tongue tracing around the bulbous head several times before dipping into the slit, causing Peter to wince in overstimulation. You took this as a sign to pull back a bit, instead taking the whole tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop, flattening your tongue on the underside as you hummed.
Peter spiraled even more. The way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you suckled on his cock? When was he going to wake up? Because there was just really no way that this was actually happening. It had to be a dream. 
“A-mmgh- shit-“ he groaned out, running a hand through his now damp with sweat silver hair, slicking it back in a way that was more attractive than you’d like to admit. 
You slowly took more of him into your mouth, inhaling through your nose so you didn’t choke, and soon enough you had fully engulfed him before pulling back, gagging a bit as the tip hit the back of your throat. A string of spit connected your lips to the head of his cock and Peter nearly came right then and there at the sight, hips subconsciously humping the air as he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing.
“God baby- this is so fucking unbelievably good- god damn-“ he panted, babbling words as his hips arched upwards in search of your mouth once more. You pulled back from him completely, watching as his throbbing red cock bobbed in the air between you two, desperate and aching for whatever you planned to do next.
Peter inhaled a deep breath, straightening up a bit as he got a better grip on the counter, some of his damp silver hair falling back over his forehead.
Coming back to stroke him with your hand, Peter’s hips jerked once more, biting his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet, despite not needing to. It was just the two of you alone in the house. He could be as loud as he wanted.
“Really? That’s all ya got, speedy? Tiny little whimpers? C’mon I want to hear more.” You surprised yourself with your boldness, and it obviously surprised Peter too by the way that he nodded, letting his lip fall from between his teeth as a pleasured sigh left him. It was finally sinking in that this was really happening to him. He was getting head from a super mega quickie fan. And damn you were good at it. Too good. Or maybe Peter was just that desperate. It was honestly a little embarrassing but you obviously didn’t care so he didn’t either.
You stroked him with increasing speed, thumbing gently over the tip and collecting the pre-cum on the pad of your thumb before bringing it up to your lips and licking off the glossy liquid. Peter groaned, cursing under his breath at the sight below him, a hand coming to brush through your hair gently, giving him something to do to keep his hands busy.
“Can’t believe this is happening. I’m actually getting to do this to the Quicksilver-“ You shook your head, still in a state of disbelief 
“Y’can call me Peter y’know- please-“ He chuckled breathily, hand still gripping your hair as he tried to subconsciously pull your head closer to his length, a quiet mumbled plea coming from his red lips. Okay. Noted. Peter. 
“More- please? Feels so good, baby- feels so fucking great-“ He pleaded with you, giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes. You didn’t take him for a begger, but you were definitely not complaining. And of course who were you to deny him? He did so much good for the world, he’d literally helped save it multiple times, hadn’t he? He deserved this, plus, his taste was addicting. Manly and a bit salty in a way that had your pussy throbbing in your underwear. 
You took him into your mouth again, suckling on the tip before going further once more, suctioning your lips around his length, dragging your tongue on the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein that was found there. 
Peter tossed his head back once more, closing his eyes as he moaned, this time a bit louder than before. It made you smile around his cock.
You continued your exploration of his cock, bobbing your head up and down before focusing on the tip for a few moments and then repeating over and over and over-
Peter was growing increasingly worked up, chest heaving up and down heavily, cock beginning to twitch in your mouth as you gagged on him, tearing up as you inhaled through your nose.
“I’m close! F-fuck!” He groaned out, hips bucking farther into your mouth as he gripped your hair a bit tighter, causing you to let out a whine and choke even more around him, tears falling onto your cheeks, mascara smudging under your eyes as you swallowed around him.
That was all he needed to cum hard down your throat in heavy ropes of thick white, his hips jutting forward harshly, causing him to slide even further into your mouth and down your throat.
“Fuck! Shitttt!” He cursed, gasping as he shuddered, thighs shaking as he fought to keep himself up right. Damn. He hadn’t came that hard in… Well he couldn’t even remember when. But it had been a long time. Too long.
You pulled back, the biggest gag yet coming from you, the feeling of his cock so deep in your throat and his cum filling the back of your mouth causing you to retch. You held onto his thighs as you tried to catch your breath, wheezing heavily, head bowed as you attempted to swallow all his release. Dear god, he came a lot. Maybe it had something to do with his mutant powers, or maybe it was just the fact that he came a lot. Either way it amazed you.
Once Peter caught his own breath and calmed down enough to come back to his senses, he glanced down at you with a worried look, watching you attempt to catch your breath. 
“Shit- you okay? Sorry I- kinda lost control- I’m so sorry-“ he apologized, worried he’d ruined the whole moment by not being able to control his damn hips. A crimson flush covered his cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed. Great. His one chance to get laid had been ruined by his actions. Like everything else in his life.
“Peter-“ your voice was a bit hoarse as you swallowed hard, wiping the corners of your mouth as you stood up, dusting off your thighs as you cupped his cheek.
Peter’s attention was on you again in an instant, tilting his head ever so slightly into your palm. Peter was touch starved. Extremely so, but it was something he wouldn’t ever admit. Not that he really needed to, it was pretty obvious. 
“I’m okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It was actually really fucking hot. Watching you lose control like that.” You blushed softly at your own words, giving him a shy smile despite being so bold in your previous actions.
Peter was quiet for several moments and if anyone walked in on the two of you right then, they’d see you standing in front of Peter, and Peter, pants down, leaning against the countertop as he stared at you longingly.
“Uh- anyway I can return the favor?” He asked, large hands coming to hold your hips, a subtle buzz seeming to come from his body. Specifically from his hands. It made you shiver, your already wet panties seeming to soak even more at his words that were dripping with lust. You were much too curious about those hands of his and what they could do. Especially with that power…
You pulled him into a kiss, practically jumping on him as he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you made out with the silver haired man. Honestly, if someone came up to you and told you this was how this night was going to end, you wouldn’t believe it. Not one bit, but the fact that it was actually happening? That this wasn’t a dream? You were fucking around with someone you were quite honestly obsessed with? It made your head spin.
He stumbled down the hall, kicking his feet out of his pants and boxers as he held onto you tightly, his blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass as he brought you to your bedroom. You weren’t sure how exactly he knew which one was yours, and chalked it up to him snooping around when he first got here. His superspeed made things like that easy. 
He practically tossed you onto the bed, kissing any inch of your exposed skin before he pulled your shirt off, laughing a bit as it briefly got stuck around your neck before it was thrown… Somewhere. It’s location wasn’t important right now when you had Peter right in front of you.
Peter’s eyes zoned into the way your breasts bounced with each laugh of yours, looking so totally perfect in the black bra you were wearing.
“Sorry- obviously didn’t think this was gonna happen tonight so it’s not special or anything-“ you said, speaking about the bra.
Peter scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief “you kidding? Have you seen yourself? God you’re a masterpiece. Really-“ His hands came up to cup your breasts in each palm over your bra and you mewled lightly at the contact.
“Peterrr'' you groaned, wriggling around underneath him. Your words seemed to snap him out of his boob induced trance and he refocused once more. Eye on the prize, Peter. The prize just so being the beautiful mound between your legs. Well, Peter didn’t really know that it was beautiful since you were still wearing pants, but he could just tell. Maybe another, more secret super power he had? Or just common sense.
Peter, ever the speedster sped your jeans down your legs and off your body before you could even blink, settling comfortably between your thighs before tossing his own shirt off. Finally, Peter was fully naked and you were pretty close to being so as well.
“So uh I won’t say I’m like.. A master or anything but I’d like to return the favor. Like I said.” Peter's eyes were dark as he slid further down the bed before he was face to face with your sopping wet panties. 
He brushed the pads of his fingers against the wet fabric, shocked that he’d had that effect on you. Holy shit, you were this wet for him? 
The second he touched you, you closed your eyes, tossing your head back. You weren’t sure if you just really needed to be laid, or if it was the fact that it was Peter Maximoff barely touching you that got you going. Either way, you were desperate and didn’t plan on waiting much longer. 
“Please don’t tease-“ You breathed out, already out of breath as you watched him, begging for him to just do something already! This was torture! Why was he going so slow! 
Peter sensed your need and decided it’d be rude to tease. Especially considering how generous you’d been with the blowjob in the kitchen. Something he certainly wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. He pulled your panties to the side, nearly drooling at the sight of your pussy right in front of him. 
He licked his lips, swallowing his excess drool as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the small black panties and pulling them slowly down your legs.
Your breathing increased exponentially when he tossed them off your legs and spread your thighs wider to give him better access to you.
Blushing in embarrassment, you weren’t able to meet Peter’s eye. This was really happening? You were about to be eaten out by The Quicksilver-
That was mind blowing to you, just like the rest of the night had been. You’d have to host more college parties in the future if this is what you got in return.
A subtle buzzing had started on your thighs, slowly creeping closer to your core and you soon realized it was Peter’s fingertips, buzzing gently as they crept closer and closer to where you needed him most.
You opened your mouth to beg again but any words you had died in your throat as his nose brushed against your clit, causing a sharp burst of pleasure to run up your spine. 
“Ahhhh Quicksilver- Peter-“ you quickly corrected yourself, remembering he had said you could call him that. That he in fact wanted you to. 
Peter grinned at your response to the slightest touch, brushing his nose across your folds again before blowing a cold burst of air over your core that caused you to shiver. 
“Stop!” You suddenly shouted, a pout set on your lips “stop teasing me! Please! I didn’t do this to you! This isn’t fair!”
“Who ever said anything about me playing fair, baby? I mean me? Fair? Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.”
This cocky side of Peter was hot, but you also found it hot that the hunger in his eyes never once subsided, a hint of desperation hiding behind his bratty, full of himself demeanor. 
He did eventually decide that maybe he was being too mean with his teasing and finally let his lips brush against your clit, his tongue flicking across the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth gently, humming the whole time.
Your body seized in pleasure, trying not to crush him between your thighs as he played with you to his heart's content. 
He began to finally eat you out the way he should have all along, messy and fast, making sure to give extra attention to your puffy clit.
Your back was arched and your eyes were closed, head thrown back against your pillows. Your chest heaved heavily with each brush of his tongue against your core, a pleasure building up in your belly so fast that despite him only being at it for a few minutes, you were already embarrassingly close. 
And that sense of being close was only amplified when Peter, cocky sex god he was, brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it before he began to vibrate that thumb, a dull buzzing sound filling your ears.
You had barely any time to warn him of your impending release before your toes were curling and your thighs tightened around his silver head of hair, locking him in tightly. 
Peter smirked against you, letting you ride through your orgasm before pulling away from you, his lips shimmering with your release.
He quickly licked them clean, grinning from ear to ear as he crawled over you, pulling you into a kiss.
You panted against his lips before finally kissing back, taking a fist full of his hair and yanking ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt him by any means.
You didn’t expect the reaction that followed. Peter whimpered, leaning into the touch as he bucked his hips against you ever so slightly, his hard on brushing the plush of your thighs.
You grinned against his lips, nipping at his bottom lip gently, running your hands through his hair a bit more.
He pulled away just a bit to meet your eye, his own blown wide, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he swallowed hard.
“You got like- y’know- a condom?” He asked, a blush covering his cheeks. Sweet boy. Still shy even after everything the two of you had done so far.
“Like I mean-“ he continued, blabbering on, “My pull out game is pretty good- I’m fast-“ he laughed at his choice of words. Of course he was fast, that was his whole thing.
“But it’d be nice just in case- to not have to worry about it, y’know? Just bask in the moment. Plus it’d be pretty hot to cum inside. Even with a condom.” He shivered at the thought, cock twitching and oh so ready to be inside of you.
You laughed softly and reached over into your bedside drawer, rifling around for a few seconds before you found what you were looking for, pulling your hand back and showing off the shiny package to Peter.
He went to grab it from you but you pulled it away, shaking your head “can I put it on?” You asked, looking him over.
Peter seemingly got even more shy at that, blushing harder as he nodded “yeah- yeah course ya can, mhm that’s fine that’s-“ You cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek gently.
“You don’t do this often do you?” You asked, running the pad of your thumb across his cheek, hot to the touch from how hard he was blushing. 
He shook his head in embarrassment. God, Quicksilver himself didn’t get around, despite how much he wanted it. It just… Didn't happen. Nothing he could do about it really. It wasn’t for lack of trying, so when you seemed so eager, he was more than ready to get down with you.
You ripped the condom out of its wrapper with your teeth and Peter thought it was the hottest thing ever, eyes wide as he watched you, completely mesmerized. There was just something about you that seemed to draw him in.
You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he let his hips gently buck into the feeling, burying his face in your shoulder.
You continued like that for a few moments, enjoying the way Peter’s body shivered against your own and how his moans and whines got increasingly more desperate.
You brought the condom to the tip of his cock and slowly rolled it down, making sure it was on correctly before giving him a few more firm strokes.
Peter groaned against you, pulling from your neck to look you over. You’d never expected that this could be so gentle, especially with someone you really didn’t know.
“You can put it in, baby.” You whispered, wondering if that’s what he was waiting for. Confirmation. Proof that you actually did really want this as much as he did. You definitely did.
He swallowed thickly, heartbeat fluttering heavy in his chest as he positioned himself at your entrance, letting the head of his cock slide against your slit a few times, causing the both of you to moan softly. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go further, unable to wait anymore. The idea of him inside you made your breath catch in your throat. The Quicksilver was about to be inside of you. Peter. 
Peter Peter Peter was all you could think. This whole time you’d been obsessed with the superhero aspect of the man without really thinking that just him himself could be perfect. 
He locked eyes with you as his tip breached your hole, and after that he sunk in easily thanks to your slick. He didn’t stop till he was balls deep inside of you, his lips inches from your own as he panted, adjusting to the warm tight feeling of your walls squeezing around him. 
Peter groaned against your skin, hands clenched in the sheets at your sides, trying to steady himself as he let you adjust to his size.
He was big and it was a bit uncomfortable at first but the stretch was more than welcome and you found yourself trying to pull him deeper, needing more than what he was giving you in the moment. 
“Peter please-“ you choked out “Need more- I’m ready- please-“
“I’m gonna rock your world, babe.” Was all he said before he thrust into you, finding a nice rhythm that was fast, but not so fast that you couldn’t physically handle it.
You were glad now that the party had ended and the two of you were alone so you could be as loud as you wanted. You took full advantage of that, moaning and clawing at the speedsters back, most definitely leaving marks as his hips slammed against yours.
The drag of his cock inside your thick plush walls had to be one of the best things you’d felt in a long time. He was pretty shy at first you’d have to admit, but he definitely knew what he was doing. 
“Peterrr- fuck-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the mattress, knocking the air from your lungs with each thrust inside of you.
He went so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach and a pleasurable ache began to form in your groin, bubbling into a tingling pleasure that spread through your veins. You knew that feeling all too well. You were close. Already.
You didn’t want it to end so soon though and tried to fight it off. In a desperate attempt at distracting yourself, you pulled Peter into another kiss, nipping his bottom lip which caused him to moan against your mouth, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm.
“My god baby- can’t do that to me- gonna make me lose it-“ He chuckled breathlessly, trying to regain control of himself.
Realizing that he was close too, you smirked, squeezing around him purposely, causing his jaw to drop and the hottest little whines to leave his lips. 
“Don’t want this to end- so soon-“ He complained, body begging to buzz with built up energy that was ready to burst.
“Who said it had to end?” You questioned, smirking up at him as you placed one of your hands in his silver hair and pulled on it a bit. Peter let his head fall back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard.
“Y-yeah? Think you can handle another round?” He asked with a smirk, but was obviously trying to cover up how desperate he was.
You didn’t respond with words, too far gone and basically mindless on his cock at this point as he fucked you within an inch of your life.
You felt the tight band in your stomach snap, euphoric release flooding your system as you clenched around him, a loud moan leaving your parted lips as Peter kissed you, resulting in the two of you really just breathing into the others mouth, too caught up in the moment to focus.
Peter was right behind you, a few more thrusts had him tipping over the edge, stilling inside you and stuffing the condom with his white hot release.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, attempting to catch your breath as Peter leaned over you, muscles flexing as he gripped the blanket before he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it onto the floor, which you’d yell at him for later. Once you came to your senses.
Peter wrapped you up in his arms, holding you to his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You felt so safe in his arms. It really was a nice feeling and you hoped it’d last. 
The two of you fell asleep like that, too tired to have another round that night. You woke up in the morning a bit sore and when you reached for Peter, he was already long gone. You should have expected that.
Sitting up, a bit of disappointment filling you, you saw a quickly scribbled note on a piece of paper that lay on your bedside table. It read: 
I had a righteous time with you last night baby. Had to leave earlier than I wanted to, but I obviously know where you live and intend on stopping by again soon. For twinkies of course…
and other things if y’know what I mean- Quickie 
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rustedhearts · 9 months
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dazed and confused (70s!childhood best friend!steve x fem!reader)
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summary: steve's been your best friend all your life. but friends aren't supposed to think about friends the way you think about steve.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the only living boy in indiana ✶ main masterlist
tags: 70s!steve, childhood bestie!steve, fluff, pining! we're pining!, tid-bit of jealousy from us, this is short but sweet. not edited as usual.
recommended listening: you're lost, little girl —the doors; sweet leaf —black sabbath
buy me a ko-fi! ♡
somewhere in indiana. october, 1977.
The slow riff of The Doors’ You’re Lost, Little Girl trickled through the cinderblock basement. The Strange Days album spun on Steve’s turntable, the right door left open to reveal his cautiously-crafted selection. An array of colors and bands, all organized into what Steve considered his “most prized possession.” A music man above all else, you sort of admired how much he cared for the craft of careful listening.
You wriggled your fingers through the gaps of one of the Harrington Afghan blankets, where an orange stripe turned to brown. Steve hummed along to the start of the lyrics—a low, rumbling sound. You peeked over the edge of the sofa, ratty and old and shoved down here when Mrs. Harrington bought something sturdier at the start of the decade. You remembered the day she instructed Steve’s father to bring the old one down here; it was the first time you wandered into a room alone with Steve. Just the two of you, other neighborhood kids neglected on the lawn down the street.
He asked if you wanted to stay over and play a game, and Mrs. Harrington brought a bowl of pretzels to share while you hunched over Monopoly. Now, the basement was your place—yours and Steve’s. Four walls of cinderblock and concrete floor, softened with a shaggy brown rug once found in the living room, and posters purchased at the record stores and concert merchandise stands, and seasonal decorations Mrs. Harrington rotated every few months.
When it didn’t smell like the linen and laundry beating against the pea green dryer, the stench of Steve’s Winston cigarettes took over. It was always cold, and always home. You often found yourself here instead of at your own.
“You’re lost, little girl,” Steve cooed lyrically, cigarette withering and smoking between his two fingers.
He was lying on the hard ground, one palm pressed over his sweater-clad stomach and the other held open against the air where his cigarette waited. The maroon red of his shirt made his hair look dark and luscious, and the paleness of his Midwestern-cold-season skin warm again. If he opened his eyes, now pinched shut to marinate in the song like he so often did, you knew they’d be soft and puppy-like. He only ever looked at you with a smile.
So how was it that you never kissed?
You found yourself asking that a lot lately. When he picked you up for class at the community college with a thermos full of hot coffee on bitter cold days. When he slung his jacket around your shoulders when you shivered at football games. When he popped a kiss against your cheek out of pure excitement and whirled away like he hadn’t just burned your skin in the most delightful way.
And that tingling delight only appeared this year. When he started to fill out his brown leather jacket until it creaked. When his voice started growling through you like a firework. When his hands grew rough from work on the Pontiac in the driveway, inherited from his father for his eighteenth birthday. He spent the summer fixing it up, and that first scorching day you came up the driveway and saw him slicked with grease…you were done for.
Now, you only ever thought about kissing Steve.
“Penny for your thoughts, little girl?” Steve mused from the floor. His eyes were open now, head tipped to catch you staring.
You jerked away, blushing into your knees. “Sorry. Just zoning out.”
You continued your poking ministrations in the blanket before tossing Steve a bewildered look. “And don’t call me that.”
Steve chuckled around his cigarette, growing smaller by the minute between his lips, puffing smoke with every sharp ejection of amused breath. His socked feet scuffed against the floor as he pressed up, sauntering toward the rear of the couch in his brown corduroy pants.
“Jeez.” He yanked the cigarette from his mouth and slung one leg over the back of the couch beside you. “Who pissed in your Cheerios today?”
You shifted away from him when he settled on the top edge of the couch, huffing as you went. Crowded against the padded and pillowed arm, you frowned into your fist propped under your chin and glared at the poster of Led Zeppelin ahead of you.
You hated your own body for betraying you this way—for making you ache for your best friend. It was wrong. Everyone knew that dating a friend never ended well. You knew too much about each other, had seen too much of the bad for the food to feel unadulterated and sweet the way it did with someone you’d known for far less. But you’d known Steve nearly all your life. Introduced as two curious and adventurous six year olds, you saw each other through elementary, middle, high school, and now college. You’d comforted all the bad dates and heard the rundown of every parental fight. You knew about the rash he had from a new laundry detergent last winter, and you knew he liked to jerk off with his left hand even though he was a righty because it “feels like it’s not even his.”
You knew too much.
So why did he look so handsome sitting next to you like that?
“Hey.” Steve’s voice was soft now, murmured just under the stereo. “Are you—you’re not mad at me or something, are you?”
"No," you murmured, eyes turned down toward your lap.
Steve watched you a moment, elbows on his knees, waiting for more to utter from your mouth. It was so unlike you to grow quiet in his presence. Your mouth was always running, spilling some secret you promised to keep with "the exception of Steve," or retelling some story with adamant vibrancy. If you were ever quiet, it was only so you could bathe in the peacefulness of your alone time together.
You had never been quiet like this. Well...not since that time in high school when your boyfriend dumped you.
"Well, hey, did I show you the Masters of Reality I found at the record store? It's sick, I've never seen this version of the cover before."
Steve hopped off the couch, stubbing his cigarette out in an old mug on the end of the coffee table as he went. He disappeared up the stairs with a rushed be right back, and you listened to his footsteps thump above your head. When he was gone, you dropped your head into your hands and sighed.
✶ ✶
You parted ways for the day a few hours later, the span of uncomfortable time in which you sat shoulder-to-shoulder silently watching The Price Is Right. You couldn't think of a thing to say to him, and he didn't know how to take your quiet.
On the trudge home, you scolded yourself for having such romantic thoughts about him. For wondering what his lips would feel like on your own, and how his hands might feel beneath your clothes. It was wrong. And you were certain that if Steve knew how you were thinking these days, he'd be appalled. You'd lose your best friend forever.
There's no coming back from unrequited love.
You spent the night tossing and turning and glaring at your Donna Summer poster in the dark, wondering why your brain wouldn't just shut up about Steve. Steve's hair and Steve's eyes and Steve's ass in those Levis. You slumped from bed the next morning (thankfully a Sunday) with scratchy eyes and a head full of Steve.
So pardon your irritation when you dressed and dolled yourself pretty for the few short paces down the street to his house, only to find the rear of a long head of auburn hair looking up at Steve. You skirted to a stop at the end of the driveway, nose already turning cold from the nip of autumn air, new brown boots scuffing on the pavement. The gurgle of Steve's radio could be heard even from there, winding up an eight track. The Pontiac windows were rolled down to stream out the sounds.
And there Steve was, propped against the hood, grease-stained rag thrown over his puffy-sweatered shoulder, gazing down at this short little thing like some new kitten. He had his arms crossed the way he does when he wants to be handsome—and Christ did it work. But they were on her.
Over her shoulder, Steve caught the edge of your coat. He swiftly shifted gears, pushing off the car to wave a hand at you. You watched his mouth move in a murmur toward the girl, who rubbed her hand along his arm as she sidestepped toward a goodbye. You still lingered, hands tucked and balled tight in your fuzzy pockets, waiting for some sort of instruction.
Steve always had girls around, but suddenly, while watching this tiny little inkling of a girl sashay her way away from your best friend, you felt like screaming. You wanted the girls to stop coming around.
"Hey, c'mere," Steve called through the distance, and with a start, you realized the girl was fading down the street, and you were just standing there.
You shuffled your way over, inhaling deeply as you went. As the gap diminished and you approached, you caught a whiff of sharp autumn leaves, and the smoke of a Winston recently put out. Somewhere underneath, the amber musk of his cologne. You'd drool if you bothered to open your mouth.
"Hey." Steve grinned, hands rubbing around the greased cloth. His familiar, heather grey sweatshirt looked soft, hood a bit rumpled at the nape of his neck.
Once, you fell asleep on a three hour road trip, and woke up on the edge of Ohio with your head in his lap. He was playing with your hair, and when you blinked up fuzzily and furrowed your brows, he soothed you awake like some sort of child. You could still feel the warmth of that sweatshirt.
"Hey," you returned, a little too sharp. "Who was that?"
Steve's sneakers whooshed over the pavement, kicking up gravel and crunching fallen leaves as he headed toward the tool box. He was polishing up, checking fluids and odds and ends. Sometimes, you thought he just liked standing next to his hot ride.
Steve glanced toward the end of the drive where the mystery girl disappeared to a few moments ago. "Who?"
You rolled your eyes, huffing. "The girl, Hair."
Steve scoffed at your ill-intended nickname, heading toward the driver side door. He hung halfway in, reaching for the knob on the stereo.
"Somebody, nobody. I don't know yet."
You kicked at a rock near your foot, frowning. "What does that even mean?"
Steve continued to fiddle inside the car. "It means, she could be somebody. I'm seeing where it goes, takin' my time."
You pushed your head back toward the sky, head shaking. Steve took the moment to look at you through the windshield, memorizing the colors and shapes of your outfit. Camel brown coat, chocolate brown boots, black turtleneck, purple corduroy jeans. You had lipgloss on today, and the color made your eyes beam.
Steve pulled out of the car and headed back toward the tools before he could look any more. You tipped your head back into place just as he slid under the car, the soles of his sneakers bared to you. His socks didn't match. Something about that made you smile.
"Why are you so cranky anyway?" he called from under the hunk of blue metal. "Yesterday, today—you havin' your monthly—"
Kicking his foot hard with the toe of your boot, you glared down at the portioned part of Steve Harrington you could see. "Don't finish that sentence, Harrington."
Steve jolted. "Ow! Alright, alright, Jes-us."
You pulled away, pacing the patch of grey ground in front of the car. You tight-roped the crack for a while, watching your feet overtake the severed cement, glancing occasionally toward Steve when things clattered.
"How'd you meet her?" you found yourself calling out.
Steve paused a moment. You continued to pace. He sniffled and rolled up his sleeves, shifting under the car. "Uh...record store. She asked my opinion."
Oh, you inwardly groaned. She was a cool girl. Trying to swallow down your frustrations, you sniffled away a cold drip snot and hummed.
"What's she listen to, ABBA?"
Steve shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, actually. But I can't be a music snob, honey, that's not how I roll. Chicks can play whatever they want when we're doin' it, I don't mind."
Scowling, you thought about going over and kicking him again for good measure. But the poor kid just didn't have a clue, did he? He was handsome, lived in a two-parent home, his father still had a job, and he had a job waiting for him when he was done fooling around. It wasn't his fault he had everything.
You just wanted him to have you, too.
"Hey, grab my smokes for me? On the front seat."
Tapping your foot, arms firmly crossed over your chest, you spent a moment boring a hole into Steve's foot. Another kick? No. Your mind wandered to that Tuesday evening, straight after school your senior year, when Nancy Wheeler dumped Steve behind the gym during fifth period, and Steve came running home and did everything he could to stop crying—but you held him in your arms and told him he could cry all he wanted.
Steve didn't think "chicks" could "play whatever they wanted when they were doin' it." Steve didn't think women were playthings. Steve wanted to be loved.
You could love him well.
Huffing, you stomped toward the car, coat sleeves swinging with every bound. You snatched the crumpled back of half-empty Winstons from the leather of the front seat and rounded the square-nosed hood of the Pontiac. When you came into view, Steve slid out from under the car and sat up.
"Thanks—whoa!"
But you threw the pack at his head, heard the small clatter of cardboard against skin as it pinged off his brow and into his lap. His brows creased as you spun sharply on your heel and crossed your arms again, heading for the end of the drive. Steve scrambled to catch up, tripping over his feet as he went.
"Wait, wait—stop!" Steve rushed you, snatching you by the elbow to pull you to a sharp stop.
When you turned—or he made you, rather—you looked anywhere but his pretty face. Glaring at the collar of his sweatshirt, doing all you could to hold your breath and bring down the simmer in your cheeks. Suddenly, you couldn't speak. Suddenly, all those feelings were coming to a boil, flowing over and spilling out.
But you couldn't put into words just what you were feeling. You couldn't find it in you to open your mouth and speak.
"What's goin' on?" Steve chuckled, but his tone lacked the humor. "What did I do, what's wrong?"
Balling your fingers into fists again, frozen numb and trembling with a hungry ache, you tossed your eyes his way. Steve could see the anguish on your face, pinched in the center sourly. But what was wrong? Steve couldn't put his finger on it.
Stomping your booted foot, you gave a soft, petulant whine into the brisk air. And before Steve could laugh or shake his head at your childish antics, ones he's seen plenty of before when you haven't gotten your way—you smashed your mouth on his.
Leaning up on your boots, creasing the leather toes, creaking with your weight; planting your hands on his firm, bulging arms growing bigger by the day; squeezing muscle mass with an eager grasp. You pressed your mouth right to his and breathed him in. The stereo in the Pontiac gave a whir and a click, and then the hoarse cough of Ozzie Osbourne cut through the quiet of the street. Sweet Leaf slipped from the car and fueled Steve with a fire like no other.
So, when you pulled back with a sharp smack of spit and swollen cheeks, Steve didn't let you get far. A step back and to the side, a slow and incomplete rotation toward the front of the house—until Steve snatched you by the belt loop just above your ass and tugged you back.
"Hey."
You crumpled into him, arms caged against his chest—and yes, the sweater was just as soft as you remembered. His hands slid through the groove of your waist and down the round globes of your ass, squeezing with firm pressure and eager palms. Big biceps pressing you into him by the shoulders: pulling you in, holding you close. He tasted like Coca Cola, glass bottle now rolling into the grass, blown away by the wind.
If he asked, you were searching for more of in his mouth, parched from the cold.
Against your mouth, you felt the lines of Steve's lips widen. When he pulled away, it was just far enough to still feel his breath against your chin, close enough to see the flecks of jade in his eyes.
And he was grinning a half-cocked, handsome grin.
"About damn time."
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
Batting Practice Part 4 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You get a little bit of time alone with Bradley, and now you want him even more. When he asks you about Frank, you realize you need to tie up some loose ends. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)
Length: 3300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Everett was beyond excited for his first tee ball game, and he insisted on wearing his jersey to school on Friday. He wanted to wear it to bed on Friday night as well, but you made him change into pajamas. 
"What time does my game start?" he asked for the millionth time.
"Sweetie, I already told you. Tomorrow morning at 10:30. And that's why you need to get in bed and get a lot of rest."
After six bedtime stories and a cup of water, he was finally dozing off to sleep, and you were about to check your work email. 
But when you looked at your phone, you saw a few texts from your sister and a text from Bradley.
Bradley Bradshaw: I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I'm probably allowed to spend a little extra time with the Team Mom. Maybe you'll keep your Kitten claws tucked away and let me buy you something from the snack bar after the game?
"Oh my god," you whispered as you sat on the edge of your bed. You lay back and literally kicked your feet up in the air as you wrote back to him.
I'll keep my kitten claws away if you buy me an Icee and a soft pretzel.
Then you sat up and gasped before running downstairs to the kitchen. Everett's tee ball schedule was hanging on the refrigerator where you and he could both see it. You took it down, sending a magnet flying in the process. You were right; Monday's practice was dress up day. The kids were supposed to come to practice in costumes, and there was a note encouraging the parents to dress up as well. 
With a squeak, you found the magnet and hung the calendar again before running back upstairs to your room. 
Bradley Bradshaw: Sounds perfect. And maybe you can fill me in more about what else Kittens like to eat and drink. For future reference.
You buried your face in your pillow to keep from screaming too loud. You felt like you were seventeen again and about to get asked to prom by Kyle Jenkins. Except this was even better. 
You sent back a cat emoji before you opened your Amazon app and searched for what you needed for Monday. 
You found a cat ear headband and a cat tail to make an adult cat costume. Then you dug around in your closet for something to pair them with. You had black jeans, but couldn't find a suitable top. After a few minutes of searching, you added a black bodysuit to the shopping cart along with some washable face paint. Before you could second guess yourself, you charged everything to your credit card with next day shipping, and started to get ready for bed. 
You needed to be well rested for Everett's game. And for the snack bar.
----------------------
Bradley took a quick shower while his coffee brewed. The bathroom was right next to the kitchen and living room, and his bedroom was the only other room. His apartment was kind of small, and he kind of hated it. 
Last night, he had spent hours thinking about bringing you back here, but it was so boring and bare, it made it look like he had no personality. Then he started thinking about what your place might look like. Then he started thinking about what your bed might look like. Then he was just imagining you in a nondescript bed with him, and he started touching himself. 
He wasn't really surprised. You were such a treat to look at, and he was more attracted to you than he had been to the last dozen women he had hooked up with combined. There was just something about you. The combination of wholesome mom vibes were mixing with the way you responded to him when he called you Kitten. It was a lot for his brain to process how sexy he found those two things when put together. 
For a brief moment he thought about masturbating again in the shower, but he didn't have enough time to indulge in that like he really wanted to. 
He quickly toweled off and finished getting ready. He sipped his coffee and scrolled through his text messages with you, being extra careful not to spill anything on his white baseball pants. 
God, you were so flirtatious. That little kitten emoji threw him last night. 
He rubbed a hand across his mouth and mustache and grabbed his gear for the game. He'd never make it through the day if he didn't try to stop thinking about you. 
He arrived at the field early and started setting things up with Bob, but he kept glancing around, looking for you. And if Bradley thought you looked good when you came to practice directly from work, that was nothing compared to how you looked today.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned as you made your way across the assigned field with Everett in his blue jersey. Your jeans were tight, and you had them paired with a Padres shirt and cap. 
When you looked over at him, you smiled and mouthed, "Hi, coach."
Bradley handed the cones he was holding to Bob and headed directly for you.
"Hey, we still need to mark off the outfield!" Bob called after him, but Bradley didn't pause until he was next to you.
"Kitten," he whispered as you took Everett's cleats out of his bag.
You glanced at him over your shoulder, and Bradley made sure you could tell he was checking you out. 
"Coach," you whispered back just as Everett launched off the bleachers. 
"Coach Bradley! Are we playing against the orange team?" he asked, pointing to the kids in the opposing uniforms. 
"We sure are. Those are the Tiny Hawks. Much less intimidating than a Tiny Eagle," Bradley said, adjusting his cap. "You ready to play? We're going to need our top power hitter if we have a chance at winning."
"Yeah!" Everett yelled. 
"Start warming up for the game," Bradley said, patting him on the shoulder as he ran toward Bob. Then he turned toward you and smirked. You were chewing on your bottom lip as you looked up at him like you were about to kiss him. "You look cute, Kitten. And on that note, I'm going to go cool down for the game."
Your laughter followed him as he went to meet with the referee. When the game started, he could hear you cheering loudly for Everett, your voice reaching his ears over everyone else's.
-----------------------
The game was honestly pretty exciting for a bunch of first graders hitting a ball off a vertical stick. Everett had two hits and even made it to third base during one inning. And whenever there was downtime in the game, you still got to look at Bradley in those tight, white pants. 
The moms behind you started whispering, and you were trying not to laugh. 
"I'll bet Coach Bradley could bench press me. His biceps look like fire hydrants." 
"Tara, he's got to have a girlfriend. There's no way something that meaty is still on the market."
Then Everett hit the ball so hard, another player on his team scored a run. "Go Everett! Run!" you shouted, jumping out of your seat and cheering. 
Bradley turned around and smiled at you as Everett won the game for his team. You waited for the kids to shake hands with each other, and then Everett gave Bradley another high five before running to you.
"Mommy!" he shouted as you caught him in your arms. "I'm a power hitter! Just like Coach Bradley said!"
"You really are! You were amazing!"
Then he wriggled out of your arms and said, "Can I play on the swings with the other kids?"
There was a good view of the swings from the snack bar, and now Bradley was heading your way with his gear bag slung over his shoulder and some dirt on his white pants. 
"Yeah, Ev. Just stay on the playground."
Bradley stopped in front of you. "I have a little team business I'd like to discuss with you, Team Mom. Would you join me on a bench near the snack bar?"
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh. "Sure, Coach Bradley." So you turned and walked next to him for the first time; Everett was usually tucked in the middle when he walked you both to your car. Bradley was so tall when he was right next to you that you had to tilt your head up to talk to him. The other moms were right. He was definitely something to look at. 
"Congrats on your perfect winning record, Coach," you told him, earning a deep laugh that made your lips part as you sucked in a breath.
"Thanks, but I guess I should really be thanking Ev. He won us the game."
You just smiled and glanced at your son as he played. "He's doing so well. I can't believe it."
Bradley just shrugged as he led you up to the window to order some snacks. "He's talented, and he's fast. Does...his dad practice with him?"
You glanced up at him and shook your head. "No. Danny barely sees him at all."
A crease appeared on Bradley's brow and he immediately looked kind of angry. "Why not? He's not local?"
You snorted as you gave him a pitying look. "He lives in Mission Beach. He's just not interested."
"What the fuck?" Bradley asked, earning a glare from the woman who was trying to take your order at the snack bar. 
You just nudged his arm as you ordered your soft pretzel and cherry Icee. He ordered himself a soft pretzel and a lemonade and paid before you could get to your wallet.
"I already told you, it's my treat," he said, grabbing both drinks while you grabbed the pretzels. "Now I need you to explain to me how Everett's dad lives in San Diego but never spends time with him. I don't understand."
You just shrugged and sat down on a bench in the shade. "It's just one of the many reasons Danny and I are divorced. He never showed much interest in Ev, even when he was a baby."
Bradley settled in next to you and handed you the Icee. "I mean... babies are kind of scary. But Everett is fucking great."
You just looked at him, his pretty brown eyes flashing with anger and annoyance. 
"Yeah, Ev is the best. We're better off without Danny."
Bradley took one of the soft pretzels from you and ate half of it in one bite and chewed it up.
"Does that mean you're single, Kitten?" he asked without hesitation. "Been wanting to know."
You grinned at him as your phone vibrated in your pocket. "You've been wanting to know?" You ignored a text from Frank and set your phone down on the bench between your thigh and Bradley's. 
"Come on, Kitten. Just tell me. You're playing with me like I'm a ball of yarn."
Your grin gew as you nibbled on your pretzel and tried to figure out what to tell him. Essentially Frank was nothing. Inconsequential. In fact, he was really irritating you at the moment as another text came through after you'd already told him you were busy this weekend. 
"Well," you started. But now Frank was calling you. As you tried to ignore the call, Bradley looked at the screen.
"Who's Frank?" he asked, looking up at your face with a forced neutral expression. "Someone you're dating?"
"No," you replied, scrunching up your nose. 
"So you're single?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because you've got some salt on your lip," he whispered, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. Without giving it a second thought, you licked the salt from the pad of his thumb. Bradley froze with his eyes wide, staring at your mouth. "Jesus, Kitten."
Your face had the decency to grow warm as he leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "Next time I'll kiss it away."
You let out a tiny squeak as your phone started ringing again. 
"Damn it, Frank," Bradley growled as he scooped up your phone and answered it. "This is Kitten's phone. How can I help you?"
"Bradley!" you gasped, lunging for the phone as he switched ears. You watched him sip his lemonade as he looked at you, keeping the phone firmly out of your reach. 
"Yeah, I hear you, Frank. But she's at a tee ball game right now. Want me to relay a message?"
"Give it back," you scolded him, reaching for it again.
Bradley shook his head, but you just climbed across his lap to get your phone, your chest pressed against his. But now he was holding your phone out in his massive hand with his arm extended, and smiling a few inches from your lips.
"Bradley!" you said with an exasperated laugh. "You're terrible!"
"And you're wonderful," he replied as you anchored one hand around his neck and reached for the phone. You planted your right knee between his thighs and reached, but he finally relented by handing the phone to you.
"Frank?" you asked a bit breathlessly when you had the phone to your ear. You were touching Bradley in the weirdest assortment of places, but neither of his hands were on you. You wished they were. 
"Frank, I'll see you on Monday," you said, paying no attention to what he was saying before ending the call. 
"Who's Frank?" Bradley asked again, his breath ghosting across your cheek as you eased yourself off of his lap. But his hand came up to your waist to hold you in place and your eyes met his.
"A guy from work. Who doesn't know how to take no for an answer."
"What the hell does that mean?" Bradley's voice was tight. 
"Oh, just that I told him I'm busy this weekend, but he's still bugging me." You swallowed hard. You were going to need to completely end things with Frank. Soon. Because as you eased your knee over Bradley's thigh, you had to fight the urge to kiss him. You never craved kisses from Frank. "But maybe he'll leave me alone now that you answered my phone."
You were sitting on your knees on the bench facing Bradley when he turned toward you and asked, "Do I need to worry about Frank?" 
Your lips parted in a silent smile, and you laughed. His eyes looked a little hurt as they met yours. 
"You don't need to worry about anyone, Coach."
His face eased into a soft smile. "Have you given any more thought to that Phillies game, Kitten? It's my treat if you and Ev want to go."
"That's not necessary," you insisted. But you wanted to go in the worst way. 
But if you told Everett that this was even a possibility, he would ask about it nonstop for the next month. Letting Everett spend time with Bradley outside of tee ball was just asking for trouble. Spending time by yourself with Bradley outside of tee ball was probably just as bad. 
"I know it's not necessary, but I'd still love to take both of you." 
His eyes were so sincere. You had never been interested in a guy who you allowed to be around Everett before. But Bradley was in two categories: Everett's Coach and a guy you really liked. And it would be impossible to separate the two now.
"I want to say yes...."
"Then say yes," he replied. "And you should say yes when I ask you out on a date without Everett. And you should say yes when I ask you if I can practice tee ball with him since his dad sounds like such a tool."
You felt soft inside. "All of that sounds nice, Coach. And I do the best I can with helping him practice, but I don't know that much about baseball."
"I can teach you," Bradley said softly, stroking your knee through your jeans. "Over dinner? What do you like to eat, Kitten?"
"I'm not picky."
"What's your favorite?"
You kind of shrugged. "Cheap burgers and expensive champagne."
Bradley laughed. "I love that, too."
Then Everett came over and squeezed onto the bench in the small gap between your knees and Bradley's thigh. "I'm starving," he whined.
When you checked your phone, you were surprised to find it was a lot later than you thought. "Ready to head home for lunch?"
"Yes," he said, and just when you were about to remind him to thank his coach, Everett threw his arms around Bradley's neck.
"Thanks for making me such a good player."
You watched Bradley return his hug, something you couldn't ever remember Danny doing. 
"I didn't do much, kiddo. You're a natural," Bradley told him with a smile. 
"I don't know what that means, but it sounds good," Everett said, standing up and collecting his gear bag. 
"Thanks for the snack," you whispered as Everett took your hand and started pulling you toward the parking lot. 
"Bye, Kitten."
-----------------------------
Bradley watched you walk away, looking like a real treat in those jeans. The bench was suddenly too quiet and lonely without your attention for him to bask in. So he just sipped his lemonade and tried to figure out how to make you feel more comfortable. 
Clearly you were hesitant to tell him who the hell Frank was. That was a potential problem. But Bradley had to smile at the memory of Frank sputtering in confusion when he answered your phone. 
Frank was going to have to go.
You also needed some reassurance about Everett. Bradley genuinely liked your son, and he could picture himself tossing a ball around the park with him. If he wanted to play real ball in the fall, Everett was going to need to get better at fielding. He seemed to love baseball as much as Bradley did at that age. And honestly baseball was the one thing that really helped him deal with losing his dad. 
It was funny how Everett reminded him so much of himself, but Bradley thought perhaps Everett had it worse than he did. Nick Bradshaw was just gone from Bradley's life by the time he was in first grade. Completely wiped away. No chance of ever seeing or talking to his dad again. But Everett's dad lived a scant five miles away from this bench and never spent any time with his kid. 
"Fucked up," Bradley mumbled to himself. Especially since you and Everett's dad had been married. Who does that shit to their family, divorced or not? Bradley had to roll his shoulders to help himself calm down. 
If it was okay with you, he would take Everett to the park one day. He thought they would both have fun. 
As he finished his lemonade, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from you.
"Okay, Coach. Take us to the Phillies game. We both really want to go with you."
He smiled and opened the internet tab where he had been looking at tickets. He bought three seats in the outfield and took a screenshot of the receipt. Then he texted you the image along with a promise.
"I really want to go with both of you, too."
----------------------
Bye, Frank. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 5
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wazzi2ya · 2 months
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Random Demon, holding Blitzø and Octavia bound and gagged behind them: I have captured your most beloved people, Prince Stolas! Now, only one of them will live to tell the tale, but it's YOU who must choo—
Stolas, without hesitation: Octavia.
Random Demon, releasing Octavia: Huh...well, that was fast.
Stolas: There's no choice, I'm always picking my daughter above anything!
Blitzø, having chewed through the gag: You better! I was seriously gonna kick your ass if you chose me.
Random Demon: I'm sorry, aren't you worried you're gonna fucking die?!
Blitzø: Nah, Stolas could've killed you the second you opened your big whore mouth, he was just buying time for me.
Random Demon: For what? You're completely trapped.
Blitzø, holding the handcuffs in one hand: Oh, this? I picked it like five minutes ago, just wanted Via to be outta the way before I folded you like a pretzel and shoved your horns up your own ass. *Lunges at them*
*Stolas and Via calmly leaving to wait in the carriage for him to be done having fun*
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thursdaygxrls · 10 months
Text
thin ice — two
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part one | part two | part three
summary — peter invites her to his hockey game, and shocker, she shows up.
pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader
disclaimer — i do not own peter parker/marvel. marvel pls don’t sue me for making peter sexier 🙏
warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited
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Stark Memorial Rink was a lot more crowded than she remembered. To be fair, when she was there two days ago, it was during a closed practice. Now it was loud, crowded, and filled with the blaring noise of the patrons and loudspeakers.
“What are our seats again?” MJ asked, hanging off her arm with a big, goofy smile. She was dressed in an Empire State University sweatshirt—‘I have to show my school pride’, she said. Sure, that was the reason.
“Section one hundred ten, Row C, seats four and five,” she replied, her voice near robotic.
“Y’know, you can at least pretend to be excited,” MJ teased. “I’ll buy you a soft pretzel if you act like you’re having fun.”
“Woo-hoo. Yippee. Hooray,” she said monotonously, a small grin curling on her lips.
“Come on,” a whine leaves MJ’s lips, “This is cool! It’s not just any game, this is the tournament—like, national. If they win this, they’ll make it down to eight teams. Eight teams!”
“And your sudden love of hockey spawned on its own, right?” She raised a brow at her friend’s words, “Not because of some sweaty guy who likes to ice skate?”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” MJ mumbled in reply, though her eyes softened a bit, a smile adorning her painted lips. They shuffled through the crowds of people with some struggle, but eventually made it to section one hundred ten.
When she was there days ago, she hadn’t quite paid attention to the format of the seats. The assumption, though, was that they flowed in alphabetical order, making Row Z the one closest to the plexiglass. They slipped towards the steps, ready to descend just a few stairs when they looked down. A big, yellow ‘Z’ was right under their feet. That meant–
“Oh, my God.” Her voice was more like a whisper than anything.
“You said Row C, right?” MJ asked, her eyes glued to the letter.
“Row C,” she confirmed, sucking her teeth. Was it even possible? Okay, sure, this was just a university game, but this game was a big deal. The place was insanely crowded. How could he just give away seats that close to the glass?
“Well, let’s go,” MJ interrupted her train of thought, tugging her arm to follow her. One, two, three, four…they descended lower and lower until the sound of ice scraping along the skates of those practicing was louder than the buzz of the crowd. Their seats gave them a perfect view right behind the net. Purple and black jerseys whizzed by in a flurry of sticks and pucks and ice shaving off the ground. They say for a minute, soaking up the reality of where they were before MJ let out a cough.
“So, Kitty, soft pretzel?” She glanced over with a smile.
“Yeah,” she agreed, already popping up from her seat. Shuffling back to the stairs, her gaze was pulled back to the rink where she caught a flash of a neon purple ‘13’ zipping by the glass. Hazel eyes settled upon her through the brackets of the helmet—but only for one second. One small ounce of time in which their eyes connected like laser beams. And then he was gone again, and so was she.
“I’ll get you a slushie, too, if you do a little cheering,” MJ’s voice pulled her back.
“Extra large?” She raised a brow in return.
“Whatever size you want,” MJ beamed.
By the time they were back to their seats, the game was almost starting. The National Anthem was sung by a local high school talent. The team introductions flew by (MJ, of course, screaming for Harry). When number thirteen, Peter Parker, Empire State Lightning Bolts Team Captain was introduced, the thunder of feet pounding on the floor rang through the stadium. He slid across the ice in an oddly graceful fashion. He was sort of gangly, and the bulk of the uniform provided a strange juxtaposition, but his movements were clean and precise, more like a figure skater than a hockey player.
“Look at that, number thirteen,” MJ giggled into her ear, receiving a smack on the arm for her laughter.
“I have eyes, I can see.” Was her grumbled response.
The game was intense. They were single-round eliminations, meaning that if ESU lost this, they were out of the tournament. Pennbrook, in their glossy green jerseys, were just as vicious. The net in front of them was the home side first, so they were able to see every goal that was blocked, and inevitably the ones that slipped through. What seemed to (begrudgingly) stand out the most, though, was Peter.
He was aggressive. At first, she thought it was just excitement, or anger, or some irrational emotion that sent him flying across the ice and ramming into people. But the face under the helmet was always calm. Cold, even. Every outburst was a precise calculation. Yes, he was combative, but it was never out of his control. Nothing was out of his control, not even when the puck went skidding across the ice on the other side. It took him seconds to cross the rink and swoop in for quick saves. Time seemed to flash by. The buzzer signaled the end of the first period, and the teams skated back to their respective sides.
“It’s not that bad, right?” MJ nudged her, sucking down the last of her blue raspberry slushie.
“I’m definitely viewing something,” she responded in a sarcastic tone. MJ groaned, nudging her as she collected their empty cups and discarded napkins.
“Keep up the good attitude,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue as she went to throw away the trash.
The second period was similar to the first: high tensions, high testosterone. By the third period, the score was 4-5 with Pennbrook taking the lead. It was, of course, only a momentary lead. A play by Harry and Miles tied them up again, and then a swift shot by Zack got them the lead. Pennbrook’s number ‘36’ had been on Peter’s ass nearly the entire game. He was always so close that half of the ice shavings on Peter’s ankles were probably from him. But it hadn’t been anything more than a chase until Peter brought the score up to 7-5.
The movement was quick, but not nearly as unnoticeable as he likely intended. While sliding behind the net, 36’s elbow came up to check Peter. He was probably aiming for his shoulder, but everything just came out wrong: Peter turned his head toward 36, 36’s elbow jabbed at an awkward angle, and the hit ended up slamming into Peter’s face.
Her breath caught in her throat. When he turned back to the plexiglass, blood was dripping down his chin. He’d been clipped just right so that his lip busted against the hard plastic of the mouthguard. Resounding ‘boos’ sounded through the stadium, but the sounds fell deaf on her ears as she watched Peter throw off his glove and swipe the blood from his skin. It was like she could see the gears turning in his head. Hit, blood, fight. He looked to 36, ready to raise his bloodstained fist. Then, for just a second, his eyes flitted to her.
He knew she was there. He knew she was watching. None of the hardness left his eyes, but there was something new there, too. Pride, maybe? Excitement? It lingered in his vision the entire time his eyes were on hers. When his bloodied lips curled into a smirk, she forced herself out of the breathless haze she was caught in. She was only concerned because that was the normal human reaction; you see someone get hurt, you worry. Or you laugh. It wasn’t like she was—
Peter’s fist connected with 36’s cheek. She could hear the hard smack through the glass to Row C. 36 stumbled back on his skates but regained his balance. Before he could deal a blow, refs blowing hopelessly on their whistles swarmed the two, pulling them like two growling dogs. Once again, Peter looked up at her, making sure that she was still watching. When he smiled at her, she could see that his teeth were now coated in blood from the wound on his lip.
“Holy shit!” MJ was squealing, but her voice was lost on the girl next to her.
“Yeah,” she nodded, “Yeah, holy shit.”
Neither Peter nor 36 were let back on the ice for the rest of the game. A penalty was dealt to ESU, but any other punishment was still unknown. She watched the rest of the game on high alert, trying to stop her eyes from traveling to the penalty box where Peter was seated. It was hard to view him from her position, but she could see a shock of brown hair every once and a while.
When the game was over, ESU had won 8-7. The crowd roared as the buzzer sounded, and when MJ shot up, she joined her. Adrenaline shot through her as she watched the guys on the rink scream and nearly slam into each other. Her view, though, quickly adjusted to Peter as he fled the penalty box. He slid onto the ice with the same practiced ease he’d used during the game. She could see him say something to Zack as he grabbed him by the shoulders. When his eyes finally landed on her, her pulse thrummed in her ears. He knew she was watching him, and that’s just what he wanted her to do.
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“Where y’headed?”
The sound of someone’s voice nearly made her throw her water bottle. She’d only just left Xavier Hall when she was accosted (or rather spoken to) by someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Her head whirled around to meet hazel eyes and a busted lip.
“Are you stalking me?” She spat out, her eyes wide.
“Stalking you? Oh, my God, no,” Peter laughed, wincing when his split lip tugged into a smile, “I used to do a little photography for the paper, I know where the meetings are.”
“Right,” she nodded, “But, like, how did you know I would be leaving right now?”
“Lucky guess?” He suggests, cocking his head in a boyish way. She narrowed her eyes, but before she could say anything, he was already speaking again; “Saw you at my game yesterday.”
“It technically wasn’t your game. It was the team’s game. Both teams’ game.” Her voice was pointed as she spoke. When she began walking down the stone pathway that led to a dining hall, Peter followed without question.
“But I was there,” he responded, “And so were you.”
“MJ didn’t want to miss it,” she dismissed his words.
“Oh, yeah, she and Harry are getting pretty serious,” he hummed.
“Mhm,” she replied. She didn’t want to look at him, really. Every time she did, her gaze was drawn to the nasty gash on his lips. Her eyes, however, decided to betray her. She studied it, the way it moved with him, the way it would inevitably split further each time he grinned.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Peter said, almost as if he was reading her mind. Her eyes shot up to meet his.
“Did you get kicked off the team or something?” She asked as if she didn’t already know the answer.
“Hell no,” he laughed, “Just a slap on the wrist. Couldn’t finish out the game, but you already knew that.”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, “I would’ve thought there would’ve been a little more.”
“I’ve never really gotten in a fight–and that wasn’t even a real fight,” he grinned
“So was that just you showing off or something?” Her brows creased.
“Something like that.”
They reached the entrance of the dining hall. Peter, in all his gangliness, was able to swipe his card before her and open the door. His smile just seemed to widen as she eyed him with a generous amount of suspicion.
“Thanks,” she said slowly as she stepped through the door.
“No problem,” he replied, “See you around, Kitty.”
“You can’t call me—”
He was gone before she could finish her sentence. The door fell shut in his absence, and she watched him walk away through the glass. He carried on down the pathway with his hands shoved into his pockets. A groan slipped from her lips when she realized that she was just staring at him. Her body moved into the dining hall, but her mind wandered (unwillingly) to Peter. He was annoying, and cocky, and smiled way too much for someone with a busted lip. Yet, the main thing stuck in her head was his hazel eyes and the way he watched her with them.
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a/n — hey babes!! thanks for the love on this series so far. i’m not sure how long it’s gonna be, but i def have some plans, it’s def gonna get smutty at some point. anyways, hope you enjoyed!!
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kbandtrash · 4 months
Text
Less Than Three (Hongjoong x Reader)
~Rachel~
@sorryimananti-romantic hahaha remember how I said I was the slowest writer ever? Apparently that's not true because it only took me a month and a half to write this. I need help
Content: fluff, a whole lot of delusional one-sided pining (the cute kind though) (from him), silly middle school antics from both teachers and students, betting, friends to lovers
Summary: Kim Hongjoong teaches middle school math and finds himself absolutely smitten with you, the math department's newest hire. You're the last person to find out.
Note: This is set in an American-style middle school because that's where my teaching experiences have been and I figured my best work would come out of the system I'm most familiar with
Word Count: 11.5k
Why did Hongjoong choose middle school?
He asks himself this question every day as well
If he wanted to be a math teacher, high school was clearly a better option
But no he had started out in a middle school, promising to take a high school position as soon as one opened up
And now he was actively avoiding high school principals that wanted to recruit him
Is it because he found out the math is easier to explain and the kids really aren’t that bad?
Yeah sure
But this year he had another reason to stay
See his math department had a position open up this summer and as he got to take part in interviews to select a new hire
He fell in love
Now that was not the whole reason he advocated to hire you
In fact your credentials as a math teacher
The places you had taught before
Your praxis exam scores
Your recommendation letters
The professional development programs you were a part of
Test scores from your previous classes
The way you understood math
And especially the way you believed that every student had the potential to pass your class
All of these made you the obvious choice and everyone else agreed
But he was struck several times with Cupid’s arrows throughout the interview and that absolutely did not hurt his opinion of you as a potential colleague
On this particular morning his excuse to talk to you before classes started for the day was a test for your 7th graders
Which they would be taking next Friday
Your feedback always ended up being valuable anyway so there was no need for this to be an “excuse” but it got to be one anyway
You were typing something up when he knocked on the open door to your classroom to announce his presence
You finished typing your sentence before you looked up, and when you saw Hongjoong leaning against the door frame with some papers in his hand, you greeted him with a smile and a wave
He wondered if it would look unprofessional if he grew out his hair to cover his ears
You looked gorgeous today (every day) and he knew there was no stopping his ears from turning bright red
“I have the unit tests for 7th,” he said, stealing a chair from a desk to sit backwards on while he talked to you
“Oh good!” you replied. “I’ll take a look at those and get them back to you by lunch”
Buy lunch he thought
That sounded like an excellent idea
He should buy you lunch
He didn’t say that though
“Works for me. How was your weekend?”
And he stalled and stalled and stalled until the first bell rang and he had to get out to hall duty
At lunch he walked in again while you were putting in assignment scores and munching on some pretzel sticks
“I made a key for that new assignment we decided to add for 8th grade. Can you check answers if you get the time?”
His heart did a little flip as you covered your mouth with your hand while you finished chewing
How could you be so graceful and polite?
And your hands were so pretty wow
“Yes just as soon as I finish putting these in. And—” you turned your chair around and grabbed something from behind you— “here are the 7th tests from this morning. I added a couple notes on the integer operations review questions, but other than that, I think they’re great”
He unfortunately did need to go and eat his own lunch and fulfill other teacherly lunchtime duties so he couldn’t stall as much as this morning
But he read your notes on the way back to his classroom
And boy he could have lived in your handwriting
The pen that you used was the perfect instrument to capture every letter, every dot, every loop in a way that encapsulated your personality
And as soon as he caught himself thinking that he knew he needed to ask the home ec teacher to smack him over the head with a frying pan because wowie
He would need professional help in order to date you like a normal person at this point
Anyway he was practically skipping back after lunch because he came up with another question to ask you
There were students there so instead of using your first name he caught your attention by calling you Miss (L/N)
Which for some reason gives him more butterflies than calling you normally
This time luckily instead of giving you a new task it was a task he could do for you
“How many copies of the activity page should I put you down for?”
“Ooh good question”
You put your finger over your lips as you counted on your other hand and he had to actively look away and think about other things
There were students present after all
“Which classes are you doing it with?” you ended up asking
He used the opportunity to set a hand down on your desk and lean forward in a cool pose
“I’m making the eighth graders do it but it’s extra credit for the seventh”
“That sounds like a good plan to me. So sixty for the eighth graders and then how many do you think I would need if it’s optional?”
Oh boy he loved it when you asked for advice
It gave him the chance to look cool and smart and he always got to play it off as the humble senior teacher
“I do half just to be safe. Plus then you have extra if you want to do it again later in the year or even next year”
And then your face did that thing it did when you liked a suggestion he gave
Your face lit up with your eyebrows raised and your mouth in a little “ooh”
There were students around there were students around
“Okay then sixty for the eighth graders and forty-five for seventh. A hundred and five?”
He scribbled the number down on the copy request form
“Excellent. I’ll run this down then”
He gave you a smile and a wave as he went to attend to his own class
Which you returned
And he was sure his heart would never physically recover from the stress it was under this year
You didn’t need to know that you were the only other teacher he was sharing this particular activity page with
He would give it to the other teachers if they asked him for it but he wasn’t going to go out of his way for this one because it was kind of silly and short
But he would do anything to make your first year at a new school just a little bit easier
Back in his classroom he tried to get class started when one of his eighth graders had the audacity to raise his hand and say the following:
“You just walked back from Miss (L/N)’s class huh?”
Mr. Kim squinted suspiciously at the student
“Yeah…why”
“You’re way nicer when you go to her class before our class starts”
Before he had any time to figure out what that meant, the class exploded in giggles and shouts of agreement
“Yeah you smile a lot more this year than you did last year” a girl who had had his class the previous year as well agreed
And then from the back corner
One of the notorious trouble makers stood up
Pointed his finger up at poor Mr. Kim, who was now considering taking a high school position again
And shouted “Mr. Kim has a crush on Miss (L/N)!!!”
There was no longer any hope for this class
Exponent rules? Down the drain
Hongjoong was now a laughingstock
Irredeemable in front of a bunch of 13-14 year olds
So he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, lips pursed, and his eyes dangerously blank
It wasn’t long before kids started shushing each other
Even once they were quiet, he held their attention for a second longer
“If you have two to the fourth times two to the third, what’s the product?” he asked clearly, writing the problem on the whiteboard in new black marker
Not addressing the issue would not stem the tide of curious teenagers for long but it would have to be a band-aid solution until he figured out how to do this properly
Because he couldn’t allow rumors to spread that he liked you because firstly unprofessional and secondly what if you heard them and thought he was weird
But he couldn’t lie and allow rumors to spread that he definitely didn’t have a crush on you because firstly. unprofessional kids don’t need to know about that stuff
Like they think they’re all mature and old enough to date when they can’t even drive yet like can you imagine as a teenager asking your mom to drive you to your date with your girlfriend. Embarrassing
BUT SECONDLY
What if you heard the rumors and maybe you did like him back and it crushed your heart to hear that he didn’t like you
While the kids were working on their assignment and he was working on his computer he decided the best way to explain this to them
If they ever brought it up again
Was that they’re always in a better mood when they get to talk to their friends, right?
You’re a good friend and it’s fun working with you
The other math teachers are fun too but you’re close to his age so it makes sense that you would be closer
Yep
Good explanation Mr. Kim
Literally just one day later the kids bring it up again and they do not buy his explanation
They don’t even pretend to because their brains are not developed enough to have that kind of social tact
And the rumor doesn’t exactly spread like wildfire around the school but everyone knows about it you know what I mean
Except you actually
You’re usually very aware of everything going on in your classroom but somehow this particular subject escaped your attention
You learned early on that for some reason kids don’t have shame anymore in spilling their guts to the classroom about what they’re gossiping about
So the usual “if you can’t wait to tell your friend later then tell the whole class now” classroom management tactic is now useless
So you didn’t do that instead you just asked them which problem they’re helping their friend with and if they’re not helping their friend with math then they should get back on task
You didn’t think that any middle school level gossip could actually be that interesting anyway so yeah you had no idea that kids were shipping the teachers
And you didn’t want to know
So you stayed blissfully ignorant
While Hongjoong was lowkey agonizing over it
Now you and Hongjoong tend to eat lunch in your own classrooms rather than the staff lounge
Because why use up any more social energy than necessary right
But there is a vending machine in the staff room and Hongjoong was craving something sweet one day
And when he walked in the other teachers in there suddenly went awkwardly silent
And he knew
They were talking about him
Yeah he should take a high school position next year
Two of the younger teachers, Jung Wooyoung from the history department and Choi San from the phys ed department, broke the silence giggling to each other
“Sorry Hongjoong” San apologized “the kids are just hilarious these days. They’re so excited about you and (Y/N) it’s adorable”
Hongjoong gave them a look
“Adorable?”
“Well firstly you” Wooyoung pointed out “I never thought I’d see you fall head over heels but I totally get it. She’s super cool”
“And secondly the kids” San continued “any time you guys are talking in the hall I have all of the girls talking about it during warm ups. The boys all think of you as their role model when it comes to liking a girl”
“That reminds me!” Wooyoung interrupted “I actually did have a boy confess to a girl in my class the other day and you wanna know what he told her??”
Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrowed in a glare, absolutely sure that his reputation was never going to recover
“He said ‘I like you more than Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N)’”
The teachers tried to tone down their laughter out of respect
Hongjoong wanted to leave immediately but this stupid vending machine was having issues
“And then you know what she said back?”
Wooyoung was having trouble holding himself together
His eyes were shining a little with tears of laughter
“She said ‘That’s impossible. No one can like anyone more than Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N)’”
The other teachers could not hold it back anymore
The vending machine finally gave Hongjoong his candy bar
(Plus the extra one he bought for you)
So he made his way swiftly back towards the door
“Oh no no wait” Wooyoung called after him
“Tests to grade” Hongjoong lied simply
“No come on you have to hear this”
Hongjoong stopped at the door, fighting the urge to classroom manage his coworkers
He looked back both unimpressed and expectant at the same time
“Okay everyone raise your hands if you betted on before Christmas break” Wooyoung called out
Some of the teachers looked at him like he had just asked out a widow at her husband’s funeral
But they raised their hands sheepishly anyway
“Great yes and after Christmas break?”
The other half raised their hands, most of them looking like they wished that had eaten lunch in their own classrooms
“These are bets on when you’re going to ask her out” Wooyoung explained cheerfully
“Wasn’t someone also trying to get bets going on whether you would confess first or she would notice first?” San asked
“That was also me” Wooyoung said with a grin
The lounge door opened again and in walked the principal and one of the vice principals
Hongjoong thought this was finally the end to this stupid conversation
But no
“Oh Hongjoong!” the principal greeted him with a pat on the arm “I’ve got $50 on you dating before Christmas. Don’t let me down”
Waiting until the end of the school year to take a new position would simply not be soon enough
Hongjoong needed to find a new job or retire within the month
But then on the way back to his classroom he remembered he had an extra candy bar for you
So he made a detour
But what greeted him was a closed door with the window on the door covered
He hadn’t ever seen your door shut like this before so he wasn’t sure what it meant exactly
Maybe you went out to lunch today?
Then he could just nab one of your sticky notes and leave the candy bar on your desk with a positive message
He would rather give it to you himself, but the idea of you finding the candy bar on your desk later made his chest feel all warm and cozy so it was fine
Your door was unlocked, so he pulled it open just enough so he could see inside
And you were in there actually
Slumped in your desk chair with your head in your hands
Oh
Oh no
Hongjoong had been there before
Every teacher had been there before
The work of a teacher isn’t as easy as most people would like to believe
Especially for middle school, and even more so for math, it takes someone with unending patience and courage to help kids learn every day
And some days that patience and courage runs a little thinner than other days
Even experienced teachers wonder from time to time if it’s worth the soul that they give to their classes
The classes that seem sometimes not to notice one way or the other if you’re teaching or not
You hadn’t noticed that you weren’t quite alone anymore, so that left Hongjoong with a choice to make
Did he let you have this moment to yourself?
Or did he try to help you through it?
He closed the door as softly as he could
And then he gave a little knock to give you some privacy and some time to gather yourself
Then he opened the door and stepped halfway through
“The vending machine spat out two candy bars instead of one” he lied with a grin, holding up the extra candy bar and wiggling it between his fingers
You had sat up and were resting your chin on your hand curiously
But there was definitely a downtrodden aura about you that he couldn’t miss
“That’s pretty lucky,” you replied
He took that as permission to enter and on his way to your desk he snagged his usual chair to sit backwards on
“How’s today going so far?” he asked as if he knew nothing, setting the candy bar down on top of your closed computer
“Oh, you know,” you sighed
He chuckled, opening his candy bar, not making eye contact with you to relieve some pressure for you to keep up an act
“That good, huh?”
You laughed in return
“Just got my butt kicked by a bunch of seventh graders, so yeah, it’s kind of whatever right now”
Ah the teacher equivalent of “I want to quit my job and hide in my bed for the rest of my life”
“Oh, yep, I’ve been there more than once” he said with a nod “and sometimes there’s really nothing you could have done better, you know? Kids are just like that sometimes. It makes me glad I’m not an elementary school teacher”
“Oh my word yes” you agreed, finally picking up the candy bar “at least I can kick these gremlins out after 45 minutes and I don’t have to see them again until the next day. I can’t imagine being with the same class all day”
Did Hongjoong end up squandering his entire eating time just to talk with you and make sure you felt better?
Yes
He would have to sneak bites of his sandwich in between activities during his afternoon classes
But like it wasn’t the first time he’d had to do that and heaven knew it wouldn’t be the last
At least he had a good reason today instead of something stupid like he was lost in the test grading sauce and forgot to eat
He proceeded to get his butt kicked by his afternoon classes because he couldn’t wipe his lovefool smile off his face
But it was okay because once again it wasn’t the first time and heaven knew it wouldn’t be the last
Not long after came the hallowed and hated teacher inservice day
Professional development day
Both a huge waste of time and a relaxing little work day
The administrators usually planned a series of workshops for the morning that all looked. well. kind of stupid but it was all planned with good intention
Then it was lunch time
And then after that you had until the end of contract hours to do whatever pretty much
The math department liked to go to lunch together and then have a really productive planning meeting until people got bored and then it was individual prep time pretty much
Mostly it was just kinda nice to be at school without kids there
This year was no exception to all of this
But Mr. Principal had $50 on the line and decided to play matchmaker about it
For each of the workshops the teachers were split into groups
And you and Hongjoong had been placed together every single time
Somehow you genuinely thought it was just good luck
Hongjoong was hyperaware of every other teacher looking and pointing and giggling and you were so peacefully oblivious to it
The first workshop was about medical emergency training, specifically training teachers in case of allergy or diabetic emergencies
As soon as the nurse finished with the epipen instructions you leaned over to Hongjoong and whispered “like this?” 
And stabbed him with the fake epipen right in the thigh
Hongjoong swore he was going to die right then and there because why was that so attractive???
“Four…five…six…seven…eight…” you counted out, holding the epipen in place for the full ten seconds
And like a good patient he sat like a statue because his circuits were absolutely fried
You glanced up at his face and your expression immediately dropped
You checked the epipen all over to make sure it was just a trainer
(It was)
“Hongjoong are you okay?? Your face is all red did I do something wrong?” you worried
He unfroze and tried to undo the damage of his Little Moment but the nurse was already over at the table taking a closer look at him after dismissing the rest of the teachers to practice
She looked at you and then at Hongjoong and then at you again and back at Hongjoong and a funny look of understanding came over her face
“Are you Mr. Kim the math teacher” she asked
He nodded awkwardly
“And are you Miss (L/N) the math teacher” she asked
“Yes?” you answered
She patted Hongjoong on the shoulder
“He’ll be fine in a minute or so” she reassured you, glancing up and away somewhere else
You both followed her gaze over to the principal, who gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up
Which looked innocuous enough to the untrained eye
But to Hongjoong this was just another in a long list of embarrassments
The principal had told the guest workshop speakers about him
And he had been spotted that easily
After that was administration-provided snack time
Hongjoong offered to grab sodas if you would grab chips and stuff
And at the soda table he was greeted by Wooyoung and San, who called him affectionately Mr. Traffic Light
Hongjoong resisted the urge to react publicly
Even though there were no children around he refused to allow himself to be caught cursing them out
But he brainstormed violently about the ways he could get back at them without getting caught
Truly his middle school teacher powers of ignoring were activated because those two were practically dancing around him trading one-liner after one-liner and Hongjoong paid them no mind
Until he realized they were following him back to the table where he was sitting with you
He did not need them teasing him around you so he tried to shoo them off
But Wooyoung gleefully turned his attention up to the projector screen where the groupings for the next workshop were displayed
Truly your presence was the only saving grace this day had to offer
They were in this group with you two
The computer teacher/school tech support guy was leading this workshop and he was showcasing how one might use ai in their classroom
And all four of you were totally zoned out because firstly ai in a math classroom?? For what
Chat bots are notoriously bad at math
Ai in San’s gymnasium? Once again no practical application
And Wooyoung honestly just wasn’t that interested because none of you were listening so he didn’t feel like he had to either
So he decided flirting with you was more fun
Just to make Hongjoong mad
But for all of his whispered pick up lines and compliments you had approximately the same response as to this ai workshop:
Playing gamepigeon with Hongjoong under the table
(Which Hongjoong had initiated by the way)
(And you had perpetuated after destroying him at the mini golf game)
Aka you ignored Wooyoung pretty well
So Hongjoong got to glare over at him with the peace of mind that your attention was fully his right then
San tapped your shoulder and asked for your number
Which you gave him a little too easily for Hongjoong’s continued peace of mind
But then San just made a group chat for the four of you to play uno together for the remainder of the workshop
So Hongjoong decided that actually this setup wasn’t so bad
The last workshop was unfortunately much more important so the four of you couldn’t continue slacking off
The principal was running this one and it was genuinely for the betterment of the school environment
Plus San and Wooyoung were sent off to other groups
So it was the two of you and a few other senior teachers that were going to have a discussion about one of the behavior initiatives that the school was trying out
You were the only two math teachers in the group, so when the principal passed out data that had been collected about this behavior initiative, the other teachers sort of automatically passed the papers to you
(And the science teachers in the group but that’s irrelevant)
There was only one copy of each dataset, so that meant you got to share
And that meant that you got to scoot your chairs close together to look at the paper at the same time
And even better the text was kind of small so you had to bring the papers close to your faces to read them
So the two of you were shoulder to shoulder
Practically cheek to cheek, your heads almost touching
To read this data and explain it to the less number-savvy teachers
Today was actually pretty fantastic so far, Hongjoong thought
He also wondered if you could physically feel the heat coming off of his face but that was not something he was going to let bother him right then
He was going to live in the moment
And perhaps thank the principal later
After a surprisingly productive and insightful discussion
It was finally ~lunch time~
The math department gathered up in the department head’s classroom to decide which of the nearby restaurants to choose to go to
And no one could agree
Not a single person was feeling like eating the same thing
Except Hongjoong he was agreeing with whatever you said
Not just because he wanted you to have your way but because whatever you said sounded good to him too
Maybe it sounded good because you said it but nonetheless
And then the department head said the following fateful words:
“How about you two just go ahead and we’ll try to decide on something for the rest of us
Hongjoong was suspicious right then and there that this was a setup
The department head probably had money on Before Christmas
But Hongjoong was absolutely not going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers
“I’m cool with that” you answered before Hongjoong could gather his thoughts enough to say anything
Then you turned to him
“I need to go grab my purse from my classroom. Do you need anything from yours?”
“Oh, yeah, just my wallet” he answered totally on autopilot
You stopped by your classroom first and then his since his was closer to the front of the school
He was so excited to finally realize that dream of his from a few weeks back
He was gonna buy you lunch
And not only that it was just the two of you going out to lunch
It didn’t matter that this wasn’t a date
Or that technically you were just gonna buy food and eat it back at school
It was special to him to go somewhere with just you 
That wasn’t school
Seriously he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling when he told the cashier that your orders were together and he was going to pay
You kinda elbowed him and told him he didn’t have to do that
But he just shrugged and turned his smile on you
“But I wanted to” he replied
You accepted that
“It’s on me next time” you promised
And oh man he could have died right there he felt so complete
Except if he died then there would be no next time
But you were saying next time and it made him think that wow yeah this would happen again
You meant if it ever happened again but he was determined that it was a certain for the future
Because even if it didn’t happen by chance then he would make it happen himself
When you got back to the school the rest of the math department was gone so you started eating without them
And that was a magical moment of peace too
Just the two of you
No one around to tease Hongjoong
He could almost pretend you were just normal friends and he wasn’t head over heels for you
Then the rest of the department came back and they all had food from the same restaurant
So Hongjoong had been right to be suspicious earlier
It was most definitely a setup to get the two of you by yourselves
And he liked it so he wasn’t going to complain about it
Even though it was embarrassing
Well as fun as professional development day ended up being
Parent teacher conferences were not
Hongjoong was looking forward to more Mr. Principal shenanigans
Like maybe when all the teachers were in the gym yours and his table could be next to each other
And he could talk to you when neither of you had any parents
And when the night was wrapping up
And he could walk you out to your car because it was dark
And maybe treat you to dinner because the school-provided food wasn’t usually that great
But no
None of that could happen
Because someone had decided to have teachers stay in their classrooms for conferences this year
The parents would have the wonderful opportunity to get lost in their child’s school trying to find all of their classes
What a joke
They were probably going to get so many complaints they would switch it back to normal next semester
But the one time Hongjoong was looking forward to parent teacher conferences
Of course
Was the one time they had to switch it up
The one silver lining in this was the teachers complaining about it together
Hongjoong’s favorite email he had ever received was now from Wooyoung
Who was replying to the email notifying teachers of the different setup this year but just to Hongjoong
In all lowercase:
“hey loverboy u see this crap
math teacher romancephobic fr smh”
And then with his full professional email signature at the bottom
This precious email was moved to Hongjoong’s funny emails folder, which was usually reserved for unhinged student emails
He did not reply to it
San and the other phys ed teachers were joking about how nice it would be to have the gym to themselves for once but they were in agreement that this probably wouldn’t last
Of course the math department had tests scheduled across all the grades right before conferences
Which of course left everyone grading like crazy
And of course the kids trashed the classrooms the day before
And of course the head janitor ended up getting sick
So it was up to the teachers to make sure their classrooms didn’t look like trash
Even though they had 150+ tests to grade and a pile of late work to grade
And they had 24 hours (7 of which were going to be spent teaching, and hopefully 7-8 would be spent sleeping) to make this all work before parents started showing up at 4 o’clock tomorrow afternoon
What a time this was going to be
So Hongjoong picked up his pile of tests and went to your classroom
Predictably you were grading tests
He stole a student desk and moved it close to your desk
“Which tests are you working on?” he asked
“Eighth” you replied, not looking up from the test you were currently grading
“How does this sound” he began “I’ll take your seventh and you take my eighth so we don’t have to switch answer keys?”
Still barely looking up, you handed him three binder-clipped stacks of paper
“As long as you don’t mind working to music” you replied, your eyebrows raising as a little smile played on your lips
He took your tests and handed you his eighth grade tests
(This worked out nicely as you both had three classes of seventh and two classes of eighth. He was tricking you into letting him take the heavier load ohoho so sneaky)
(He was just lucky you were grading eighth instead of seventh first)
“Don’t mind?” he snickered, uncapping his favorite felt-tip grading pen “I’d prefer it”
And that’s how speed grading turned into karaoke
Grading went almost certainly slower than it would have if you had worked alone but it was way more fun this way
Of course he ended up with sixty some more tests to grade than you
So when you finished you left for a bit and came back with snacks
As well as his pile of late work
He tried to protest but no no
“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are Mr. Kim” you teased him “You thought you could fool a math teacher into thinking we had an equal workload here?”
“That wasn’t the point” he whined, trying to put the cap back on his pen and inking his finger instead
“Then what was the point?”
I love you that’s the point
But what was the point actually
What was a point he could believably tell you without giving himself away
“Just…because” he said convincingly, shrugging his shoulders and settling back into his tests “You look stressed these days. Wanted to do something nice I guess”
You brandished his late work stack again
“So I’m going to do something nice too”
Yeah he probably wouldn’t ever feel this way about anyone ever again
For him at this point it was you or nothing
But the problem was he was willing to let it be nothing for far too long
He would never make a single move unless he knew you were okay with it
Because if he and his stupid heart ruined whatever you had going now then it would really be nothing
He wouldn’t give up the something he still had
He was like a curve approaching an asymptote
He could get infinitely close, but he would never actually touch you
After settling your gradebooks for tomorrow you started by picking up your classroom together
This did go faster with music by the way
And then you picked up his classroom together
And then he realized Hongjoong realized he could have his wish
The one about walking you out to your car and taking you out to dinner
Walking you out was easy but taking you out was another story
He would have to suggest it himself
A little known fact about teachers is that they became teachers because they don’t know how/don’t want to talk with other adults
Kids don’t judge you if something comes out of your mouth a little different than you meant it
Other adults are mean and judge you over silly things
This unfortunately meant that he didn’t know how to ask you to go to dinner with him without making it sound like a date
He was kinda just hoping a lil Kdrama moment would happen and one of your stomachs would rumble really loud so he could laugh it off and say you should go eat together
But you got closer and closer to your car and no tummy rumbling
You got to your car and no tummy rumbling
You opened your door and said goodbye and still no tummy rumbling
“Wait!!!”
He could have slapped his own mouth
You were a little startled but it stopped you from getting in your car
“Hmm?”
“Just uh…it’s kinda late and snacks are great but they’re not that filling…so do you wanna um…” he trailed off and did not finish his thought
“Wanna what?” you asked
Big boy pants Hongjoong come on
“Go grab dinner? Or something?” he finally spat out
He must not have seen your face light up in the dark
“No pressure” he added when you didn’t answer within 0.05 seconds
“No that sounds great! I was thinking of grabbing something on the way home anyway and it would be way more fun to do it with someone else” you accepted
He let you pick the place again and you drove separately because after you would be going in different directions
But it ended up being a nice little fast casual restaurant
And it didn’t feel like a date really but it kinda felt like a date but no it didn’t
It just ended up being a comfortable little outing between friends
Hongjoong knew he couldn’t stop smiling
And he wondered if you already knew how he felt about you
He was sure he didn’t smile like this at anyone else
And you were many things but dense couldn’t possibly be one of them
He knew he was the opposite of subtle
But if you were willing to spend time with him like this then that meant he didn’t make you uncomfortable
Honestly he was so used to the way you made him feel at this point that loving you from afar felt like second nature
Being friends with you was enough if he could keep loving you like this
The waiter came by and asked if it was one check or two
And Hongjoong was fully prepared to pay once again
But you beat him to it
You were already prepared with your card and everything
“I owe you for last time, remember?” you told him with a cheeky grin
He shook his head
“You don’t owe me anything”
“Well then next time it’s on you”
Hongjoong started to smile again
“Next time?”
“Well, yeah” you said with a shrug, now a little bashful “This was fun. We should keep doing it”
“It is fun” he agreed with a laugh “It’s nice to hang out with people outside of school for once”
You laughed at that
“Oh boy tell me about it. Nobody told me that teaching would ruin my social life”
And things just kind of continued like that for a while
Before you had come to the school, Hongjoong had lowkey felt like he was kind of going nowhere with his life
Any time he spent at school outside of his contract hours felt like an infringement on his personal time
Or not even at school, just away from home
He had been hoping that taking a high school position would give him back a little bit of the passion for teaching that he was losing
He hadn’t even been teaching that long it’s just that the profession really is like that
Indescribably rewarding and incredibly draining all at the same time
(Especially these days. Sometimes you really wonder if it’s worth it)
But having something to look forward to every day besides a favorite class ended up being what he needed to love his job wholeheartedly again
It wasn’t just you he had fallen in love with
He had also found new friends in an unlikely place
The math department was like family and he enjoyed their company dearly
But that weirdo phys ed teacher and obnoxious history teacher had turned into excellent friends frighteningly fast
Sometimes they joined you and Hongjoong on your dinner outings
And honestly it was such a blast
An amendment to my previous statement about teachers being teachers because they don’t like talking to other adults:
Other teachers often do not count as other adults
Sometimes they do when you have to have grown up conversations
But gossiping about students does not count as grown up conversation
There were some eighth graders that all four of you had
Hongjoong not currently but he’d had them for previous classes and they were now in your class
Was it a little embarrassing as 20 somethings to have your main source of gossip be preteens?
Yeah but oh man there is nothing like finding out which of your students are lying to their other teachers about the work they need to do
Or what they’re like in other classes
(You and Hongjoong, and sometimes Wooyoung, tended to have very different opinions about some students than San did so it was double fascinating)
Who they’re friends with outside of your class
Or crushes they have on each other
Basically if you spend every day around preteens you gossip like them too
It was now November and starting to get uncomfortably cold outside
So San had offered his home as a little gathering space for you all to order food and hang out
It was almost like a little Friendsgiving
“Any of you have (male student name, obnoxious connotation)?” Wooyoung asked, taking a sip of his soda
You immediately scoffed
“I’m about to write an email home about that kid”
Hongjoong was surprised
Annoying kids existed in every class but you usually had something nice to say about them at first at least before you got into the bad behavior
He hadn’t had this particular student but he was intrigued as to why he annoyed you so much
Wooyoung and San also both looked surprised
“He’s great in gym—like cooperative, doesn’t do stupid stuff too often—” San said “but that doesn’t usually mean anything about how they are in math class”
“No he’s great in history too” Wooyoung added “finishes all his work on time, helps his friends with theirs if he finishes”
Your eye might have twitched a little bit
You let out an unamused laugh and crossed your arms over your chest
Hongjoong was fascinated and quite enamored with this new side of you
“If he has time to help his friends then he should be working on the seven late assignments I’ve been reminding him about. He hasn’t turned in anything for two weeks”
Wooyoung gasped and covered his mouth
“You’re joking”
“I’ve talked to him about it twice and I warned him if I had to remind him a third time then I would email his parents” you said, shaking your head “Like I asked him if he’s understanding the material, if he’s got something going on at home, if he needs some help, and he’s giving me nothing to go off of”
Wooyoung smiled devilishly
“He’s been lying to me, then. I ask him every day if he has other classes to do stuff for and he says no. I will absolutely be getting on him about that”
San shook his head
“Teenagers” he sighed
Everyone nodded and repeated what he’d said
“Teenagers.”
After a moment of silence, Hongjoong spoke up
“How about (female student name, pleasant connotation)?”
The mood lifted immediately and everyone gave their own version of the word “aww”
“She is the highlight of my whole day” you said
“Seriously she’s so polite and she tries so hard even when she’s having a hard time” Wooyoung agreed
“Super athletic too” San added
“Ooh and (male student name, pleasant connotation)?” you said to another chorus of agreement “He’s kind of a punk sometimes but he’s another one that always does his best”
Hongjoong smiled
Complaining was fun, but he loved the light in your eyes when you talked about the parts of the job that you loved
Anyway as I said it was November and the Before Christmas faction of teachers was starting to get nervous because there was no sign of anything happening
They saw you walk out together more than usual but they didn’t know that you were meeting up outside of school and stuff
The kids were also more riled up about it than usual
To the point where Hongjoong wondered if the other teachers were inciting chaos on purpose
It was getting bad enough that one of his classes almost failed a test across the board—on a unit about rounding and converting fractions to decimals of all things
As in the easiest math ever
So Mr. Kim had to resort to drastic measures
At the beginning of all his classes, he drew a box on the edge of the whiteboard
“This is the nonsense box” he explained with a teacherly smile
That is to say frustrated but still filled with love for his students
“Every time one of you is talking about anything that is not related to class, a tally mark goes in the box. Each tally mark represents an extra fifteen seconds you get to sit in your seat after the bell rings”
A chorus of protest arose
“I don’t want to hear it” Mr. Kim shook his head “How many of you are planning on retaking last Friday’s test?”
About half of the hands in the room came up sheepishly
“Exactly. It’s because we’re constantly off topic that no one is able to listen and learn in here. We can do better, okay?”
And then immediately from the back of the room
“Ooh, Miss (L/N) just passed in the hall!!!”
And chorus of “Ooooooh”
Whether it was true or not, Hongjoong was happy to draw his first tally mark without a word
Just that same teacherly smile
Another round of protest came and he drew another one
After the third tally mark, they shut up
“Good. Let’s talk about coefficients. Has anyone heard that word before?”
Once again I will say it was November
And the month after November is December
And December is the month of Christmas
Not just Christmas break
But Christmas itself
And that meant that Hongjoong now
After coming back from a brief Thanksgiving break
Had only a few weeks to find you a Christmas present
Now he wasn’t thoughtless like this wasn’t the first time it had crossed his mind
It had just stressed him out wondering if he would have the guts to confess his feelings for you or if he would be outed somehow first
Plus in case y’all didn’t know teaching (especially teaching around the holidays) is stressful
He just imagined Christmas as this far off date that was too good to ever come
And so he hadn’t even had time to think about what to get you
Something for your classroom?
Something for your home?
A cute accessory?
A fun math shirt?
Not a gift card though that was far too impersonal
Nothing seemed good enough for you
If he were to deliver his feelings with a gift like any of these, it felt insufficient
Most lunches the last bit of November and the first week of December
(If not spent pestering you)
He spent fretting over his Amazon cart with his head in his hands
And then the most unfortunate miracle occurred
The heaters toward the math hall decided working at full capacity was a waste of tax dollars
And the weather was shaping up to be quite uncomfortable
Everyone started to bring blankets and stuff but it was never quite enough
Your classroom was especially cold, since it was the farthest down the hall
So Hongjoong was gifted an opportunity
He went and found one of those soft and cozy electric blankets
In a color he assumed to be your favorite considering how much you wore it and how many of the little trinkets around your classroom were that color
And he packaged it like he had meant to give it to you for Christmas anyway
Then he brought it for you the next day
You were sitting at your desk in your full winter outdoor gear with a blanket that did look cozy but thankfully was not electric
And your teeth were practically chattering as you waved hello
He still hadn’t taken off his coat or his gloves either actually
He set the present on your desk
“I was saving this for Christmas but I think you might need it more now” he told you with a grin
Your curiosity was suddenly piqued
You opened the gift cautiously, glancing up at him every few seconds
But as soon as you felt the material of the blanket, you perked up
And upon discovering that it was electric you could have cried
“I haven’t been able to feel my fingers since last week” you told him gratefully “Seriously I was trying to figure out how many space heaters I would need to buy to survive the winter”
“The department head has one in her classroom” he said “If you grab your old blanket and your laptop then you can let your new blanket heat up here while we hang out over there”
What a beautiful suggestion
The department head raised her eyebrow at the two of you coming in with blankets
But she smiled too when she saw you settling down in front of her heater
“Don’t tell anyone” she said “but sometimes I take a nap over there during lunch”
“Oh I see exactly why” you agreed, sitting cross-legged and setting your computer in your lap “I can literally feel my bones thawing out”
Hongjoong settled down a respectable distance from you
But he thought someone else was pranking him when he felt a blanket drape over his shoulders
He looked around, startled, and then he realized it was the other side of your blanket
You had thrown your blanket over him to share, even though he had one of his own
And now you were pulling his arm to get him to scoot closer to you
Was this a dream??
He would not be happy if his alarm rang
But no it was real and he happily obliged
You were sitting shoulder to shoulder again
Just like at the professional development workshop
Except this time it was so warm and cozy and there was definitely a much less professional vibe
The department head raised her eyebrow at you once again
But Hongjoong was way too enamored with your shy smile to notice
After just a few minutes in this cozy little haven
Your time was unfortunately cut short
Not by students arriving to school
But by Wooyoung poking his head into the classroom
“Oh I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys”
He stepped into the classroom and greeted its owner accordingly
She nodded as if to allow him permission to enter
“They have hot chocolate down in the teachers lounge” Wooyoung informed them “I figured you icicles back here in the freezer rooms would want some but it looks like you were hiding a—” he looked down at the two of you skeptically “campfire back here”
Wooyoung clearly thought he meant something by that but no one else knew what he was trying to say
So his last comment went ignored
“Do you want hot chocolate?” Hongjoong asked you “I can go get some for us”
“No it’s okay I’ll go with you” 
Oh Wooyoung saw exactly what was going on here
Hongjoong did not
Hongjoong was a little confused—was his help becoming an awkward burden to you?
While Wooyoung saw the truth
You just wanted the excuse to walk with him
Now Wooyoung had two choices
He could step back and let you two walk down together, maybe say something to speed this math teacher romance along
Or he could third wheel
And who was Wooyoung if he didn’t pass up the chance to annoy?
Plus he had taken an oath once he started collecting bets that he wouldn’t try to swing the competition one way or another
And since telling you about the hot chocolate while you were together felt like pushing the competition faster, it felt right to pull it back a bit by getting in between you for a few minutes
So he offered hands to both of you to help you off the floor
“Let’s all go together then” he said “You should also find out if your campsite director wants any”
“Campsite director?” Hongjoong asked, shutting his computer
You also closed your computer and set it aside, looking around to figure out who Wooyoung was talking about
“Your gracious host this morning” he clarified, giving the department head a charming little wave
You both took Wooyoung’s hands at the same time and almost pulled him down with you in the process of standing up
As you straightened your pants, you asked the department head if she wanted you to bring her back any hot chocolate, to which she responded yes please
Wooyoung insisted on walking in the middle
And Hongjoong wondered if all of the patience he had acquired as a middle school teacher was going to be spent on not wringing this guy’s neck this morning
Fortunately Mr. Jung acted enough like one of Mr. Kim’s students that he was able to pretend he was one and just let it go
Unfortunately by the time they got back to the department head’s classroom kids were starting to show up so that was the end of artificial campfire cuddle time
But there was a silent agreement as you picked up your blankets and computers that you would be doing this again sometime
The first few weeks of December didn’t necessarily fly by but they did go by quickly in hindsight if that makes sense
And before everyone knew it
Christmas break was upon you
And there was no further progression of the math department couple
The Before Christmas teachers had gotten antsier and antsier right up until the day before break started
But thankfully no one had been worried enough to interfere
Hongjoong decided to stay in his classroom that day
(As if he didn’t stay in his classroom every day)
Because people had been giving him disappointed looks all over the school and he was tired of it
Even the principal had made a trip to Hongjoong’s classroom the Friday afternoon before everyone left
Just to tell him how disappointed he was that he hadn’t had the guts to make a move even when he knew the principal’s precious money was on the line
And ask him if you were secretly dating already and just didn’t want to make a big deal about it
But ultimately to wish him luck and a nice break
A few minutes after he left, you popped into his classroom
You had your bag and your coat and it looked like you were ready to head home
“Are you so ready to get out of here?” you asked
He stopped immediately in the middle of his task and slammed his laptop shut
Contract hours had ended a whole minute ago and he had wasted a whole minute still doing work? On break?
“Say no more” he said, standing up and putting his coat on “We should have left five minutes ago”
“Wholeheartedly agree” you replied “I would have but the principal visited me and I felt like I had to look like I was doing something”
Hongjoong froze
The principal had visited you too?
Why?
For what purpose?
Betting purposes?
This technically didn’t still count as Before Christmas Break right?
“That’s weird haha he came and visited me too, like ten minutes ago” he said with the normalest most unbothered tone he could manage
(He tried)
(His voice was not quite an octave higher than usual)
(Which is considerable improvement since it’s usually an octave and a half)
“Maybe he’s just making rounds” you said with a shrug “It’s nice to see how much he cares about this school. Definitely one of the better principals I’ve worked with”
Hongjoong relaxed perhaps too visibly
“Yeah if you need a guy to have your back he’s got it no question”
“Anyway if you don’t have any plans for the day after Christmas you should spend it with me”
If Hongjoong had been drinking something he would have choked
Even if he’d had plans in the first place he would have canceled them for you
“My day is wide open” he said “As is almost all of my break”
You smiled and his stomach did a flip
He wondered if it was ever going to stop doing that
He hoped not
“Mine too. If you’re bored, you can probably text me and I won’t be doing anything”
Was it cringe that he was now looking for technically his second Christmas present for you?
Yeah maybe but that was his lifestyle now
To quote N.Flying’s Lovefool “if they call me a lovefool it’s okay as long as it’s for your sake”
Even if you didn’t see him that way that was A-Okay
Anyway he found some cute little math-themed trinkets like pi earrings and a right triangle pin that said “I’m always right”
Because actually who are math teachers if they don’t like puns
And the morning after Christmas Day he wrapped them up all nice for you
And he got ready to meet you at a little restaurant you now frequented together
But this was actually like the first time he was meeting you on a whole day off so he had to figure out how to dress not like a teacher but still kinda nice
He had no idea
All of his pants were teacher pants
His shirts? All teacher shirts
He was way too good at dressing for his job
So he wore jeans instead of his usual khakis and hoped that was different enough?
He also layered one of his graph paper teacher shirts with a plain t-shirt underneath and didn’t button it up
He looked himself up and down in his mirror, trying different poses to make sure he looked like a Normal Guy
In the end he decided his hair was the only issue
He only knew how to style it in a teacherly fashion
And leaving it unstyled wasn’t an option
So he looked up some tutorials on some easy styles but he just could not see himself as anything other than a math teacher
So he gave up and just prayed that he looked okay
You looked perfect of course
The difference was subtle in theory but the way you dressed, the way you did your hair and makeup, it made for a world of difference
Oh you looked so gorgeous he was never going to get over it
Your eyes practically sparkled when you met him out front and man he thought before that he couldn’t be more in love with you but he was wrong
You did seem a little more awkward today than usual and he couldn’t figure out why
Like you almost seemed nervous
What for? It was just him
You got your food and he suddenly remembered the gifts in his pocket
“Oh!” he exclaimed, pulling them out “I know I gave you the blanket a few weeks ago but I found these and I knew you had to have them. Merry double Christmas?”
You covered your mouth to hide your laughter and your bite of food
“That’s so funny because I found something for you too”
And you pulled a little package out of your bag
Down bad wasn’t even a good descriptor anymore and neither was head over heels like there had to be a stronger silly description of being in love and if there wasn’t it would have to be invented for him
You had found him a shirt that said “Math is hard. So is life. Get over it.”
(Tbh an actual shirt that I own)
And he promised you he would be wearing it the day you all got back from break
As for his silly little gifts you adored them
You put the pi earrings in immediately and started brainstorming what do do with the other things out loud
He could not have been happier with himself
And then you caught him staring at you
You paused in your excited little ramblings
He sat up a little straighter, wondering what to say next
But you smiled and looked down at your plate
“You’re pretty cute, you know that?” you told him, unable to meet his eyes for more than a second
In front of you, his first instinct was to deny the possibility and he followed it without thinking
“Eh, no I’m not—not in comparison to you, anyway”
Hmm if he wanted to keep his feelings secret then that was not the thing to say
But you deserved to know it
Not just cute but beautiful
Heartstoppingly so
You took the compliment well anyway
“Have you ever thought…” you began, trailing off
You watched him as he waited for you to continue, his eyes wide and curious
“Never mind” you dismissed with a casual wave of your hand
“No hey what were you going to say?” he asked
“Nothing I just had a weird thought for a second”
“No no come on! You know I wouldn’t judge you for anything”
You hesitated again and he could see that same nervousness he’d noticed before
“Have you ever thought…I don’t know” you put your elbows up on the table “of us as more than friends? Like dating maybe?”
Once again he was going to be very upset if his alarm clock went off now
But even if this was a dream, there was no harm in saying it out loud
“Every day since the day I met you” he answered honestly
You blinked like you didn’t believe him
“You’d better not be joking because I mean this like I’m risking our whole professional relationship here—”
And then he realized
You literally had no idea about him
Genuinely no clue that the whole school knew exactly how you had him wrapped around your finger
Except you
“—on the slightest chance that you might feel the same way—”
“Hey” he stopped you softly “I would never joke about how I feel about you”
Embarrassment began to set in for both of you
“Seriously,” he said, holding back a laugh, “you can ask any of my students, any of the teachers. I think you were the last one to find out that I have a massive crush on you”
“Oh no you’re kidding!” you exclaimed, your hands coming up to hide your face
“I really wish I were—Wooyoung has two rounds of bets going with the teachers about when and how we would end up dating. It’s just about me though—I don’t think anyone else knew about you”
You buried your face further in your hands
“That is so embarrassing” you whined “Seriously I might kill Wooyoung when we get back from break”
“I’ll help you” he promised
You ended up deciding to tell the other teachers on account of the bets they had placed on you
But you asked them not to tell the kids
Hongjoong was comfortable dealing with them at this point and he didn’t see the point in subjecting you to the attention he got about it
Speaking of the bets
No one won any of them technically
The two categories were before/after Christmas break and you notice/he confesses
And since you confessed during Christmas break well
As tempting as it would have been to say that you two deserved the money
(Especially on those teacher salaries)
You just made Wooyoung give it back to everyone who had put money down
And honestly? Very little about your at school dynamic changed
The kids still teased Hongjoong every day about his obvious soft spot for you
But he didn’t care because he knew better than they did anyway
You did actually start to notice now that kids were gossiping about you and Hongjoong
And it was really funny actually
Especially when he stopped by your classroom and the kids went dead silent watching you
Or when you left his classroom and you heard the kids explode with their weirdo little preteen comments from just outside in the hallway
Wooyoung insisted on telling you about every time you were mentioned in his classroom
This included the story about the girl rejecting a boy because quote no one can like anyone as much as Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N) enquote
And you about died from laughter and embarrassment
Because how had you missed every single sign thrown your way??
It was so obvious now that you were dating him and you knew why he spent as much time as physically and contractually possible in your classroom
Because like I said very little about your at school dynamic changed
He still treated you almost exactly the same way
Except now if you were having a bad day he could hug you and kiss you on the head and tell you that everything would be okay and you were a good teacher
And if he got cold he could come to your classroom and have you sit on his lap while you shared your blanket
You were very very careful with any displays of affection by the way like it was only behind a locked door that you would even dare
Because firstly unprofessional
A literal breach of the code of ethics more likely than not
And secondly what if the kids saw you???
The other teachers were whatever like you didn’t really want them to walk in on you either but at least they were other adults
But the kids??? 
There were already too many rumors flying around the school about you and they did not need a even whispering of confirmation
The end of that came of course when you got engaged like a year or so later idk and you showed up to school with a ring on your finger and the kids went wild
“Mr. Kim she has a ring!!!”
“Mr. Kim what are you going to do?? She’s gonna get married!!”
“Mr. Kim you must be heartbroken”
You had prepared for this together
You had known it was coming so you knew you had to be ready for the chaos it was going to cause
So you had decided that he would also start wearing a ring to match even before the wedding
So to all his very concerned students he got to hold up his hand and say in the coolest most chic manner possible
“And who do you think gave her the ring huh?”
It was like setting off a nuclear bomb of middle school gossip but it was so worth it
Anyway breaking the chronological flow going back in time because this needed to be the last scene
The cutest change with your at school dynamic now that you were dating was now you could exchange secret messages on sticky notes with the papers you traded
He started it by handing you a test key to check with a sticky note on the top that you assumed was a label for what the test was
But on closer inspection it was a pickup line
“The limit of my love for you is like the limit of 1/x as it approaches 0; it doesn’t exist”
So you wrote back on the same sticky note “well mine is like 1/x^2 and it approaches infinity so there” and handed it back to him once you checked his key
Not to be outdone he wrote you a new note
“Girl are you a 30° angle inscribed in a circle because you’re acute-y pi”
Oh that one was bad
You had to give him something worse
“If we’re both math teachers, how come we have so much chemistry?”
You handed him that one in between classes
And as he read it he had to disguise his sudden laughter as a cough because there were kids around and they didn’t need to be curious about what he was laughing at
His next sticky note had a crease down the middle horizontally
128√e980
You recognized it immediately but you folded it in half to reveal the secret message anyway
“I love you”
So you gave him back “I hope you like fractions because you’re my other half”
You stored all these away in a little file on your computer titled “Valentine’s Day Math Jokes”
Maybe for some future Valentine’s Day activity
But mostly just to keep them all somewhere safe where you could look at them any time you wanted
Without some kid being like “oooh Miss (L/N) whatcha lookin at”
Your favorite note from him was about as simple and dorky as they came
Much like Hongjoong himself actually
Simplify 2x+6i<2(x+9u)
First you distributed the 2 on the right
2x+6i<2x+18u
Then since there was a 2x on both sides, you could subtract them and cancel them
6i<18u
Then divide by 6
And the answer made you smile every time
i<3u
(so I know how I wrote this so fast actually. I just have a goal to write 250+ words every day and uh pretty much every day of the month of January ended up dedicated to this one. Someone said Math Teacher Hongjoong and I (graduated in December with a math teaching degree, student taught in a middle school for 4 months) went feral over it whoops)
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
Note
Okay okay okay so for Eddie x bookworm!Reader, Reader is HOOKED on a new book, like can't get their nose outta those pages, and Eddie is curious as to why this one is different than any other book. So he sneaks a peek and it's a steamy romance novel with some kind of ~dreamy~ hero and he decides to surprise reader with some role play and act out one of the spicy scenes with them 🙈? hehe
Combining this with this request from @solobagginses: Eddie fucking Bookworm in the library ("shhh, you gotta be quiet, baby, we're in a library, remember?"). Hope y'all enjoy!
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), semi-public sex (no one is around but still), oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), praise, slight degradation
WC: 3k
Divider credits to @firefly-graphics!
Jonas shakes out his mane of thick black hair as he pulls off his helmet, still straddling his motorcycle. 
“Care for a ride?” he asks Cassidy, winking and making her blush. 
“Wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Cassidy murmurs, peering at the tall, brawny man through her long lashes. Her breath hitches as Jonas stretches, muscles rippling under his thin white t-shirt. 
He laughs, extending his hand to help her onto the bike. “You’re never a burden, baby doll.” Cassidy licks her lips and hops onto the back, reaching her arms around his waist. She can feel his abs contracting as he revs the engine, sending a familiar tingling sensation straight to her—
“Whatcha readin’?”
You jump in your seat, placing your hand over your chest and feeling your rapid heartbeat. “Jesus, Eddie,” you hiss. “You scared the crap outta me.” You scramble to shove the book in your backpack before he can spot the half-naked man on the cover.
“Sorry, babe,” Eddie shrugs, pressing a kiss to your temple. He slides into the seat next to you and pulls out his signature bag of pretzels. “But, seriously,” he continues, “what book had you zoned out like that?”
You’re not about to admit to reading Fast Ride. Your friend dared you to buy it when the local bookstore was having a sale, and you’d reluctantly accepted the challenge. It certainly was not your usual choice in literature, but it was too intriguing for you to put down. The way that Jonas seemed to have never-ending stamina for Cassidy, always lusting after her hungrily, made you feel things in a new way. Sure, you were no stranger to sexual attraction; the way you could never keep your hands off of your metalhead boyfriend was proof enough. And after six months together, you and Eddie had spent many nights together (and a few before-school romps in the back of his van when you were particularly frisky). The sex was tender and sweet; Eddie holding your hands while in missionary, trailing kisses down the nape of your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. It was everything you should want.
But sometimes, you don’t want Eddie to dote on you lovingly. Sometimes, you want him to ruin you. 
You can never admit it to him; in the book, Jonas was the one who introduced the angelic Cassidy to rough sex. She was the innocent, wide-eyed virgin who didn’t know she wanted to be corrupted until he stumbled into her life. Eddie was simply too gentle to dominate you the way Jonas did Cassidy, so your fantasy would have to remain just that: a daydream to replay over and over in your head.
Before you can respond to Eddie’s inquiry, the rest of the Hellfire Club noisily approaches the lunch table.
“I’m telling you, man,” Lucas is saying, frustration evident in his voice, “the answer was 46! I don’t know how you got anything else.”
Dustin’s shaking his head. “No, you have to work the problem left to right, even if division is before multiplication.”
“I did!” Lucas insists, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. We’ll find out who’s right tomorrow when we get our tests back.”
“Yeah, we’ll find out that I’m right when we get them back,” Dustin replies snidely, earning him a shove from his friend.
You’re normally annoyed by their bickering, trying to break up the argument as quickly as possible, but you’re grateful for the distraction. You take a huge bite of your sandwich, letting the peanut butter stick to the roof of your mouth, preventing further conversation. It was a bad idea to read Fast Ride in public, even with the cover pressed down on the table, but you were hooked, dammit. 
The bell can’t ring fast enough, and you dash out of the cafeteria, making a beeline for your locker. You’ve learned your lesson about reading in class, so you shove the novel onto the top shelf and grab your chemistry notebook before snapping the lock shut and heading to Mr. Burkowski’s class. 
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“Shit, do any of you have a pencil?” Gareth asks, patting his pockets frantically. “I have a history test next period and I totally forgot that we use those stupid Scantrons.”
The rest of the guys shake their heads, grumbling half hearted apologies. 
“Wait!” Eddie says suddenly, snapping his fingers. “Y/N always has extras in her locker, and she gave me the combination.”
“Aww, aren’t you two just the pinnacle of romance?” Gareth teases, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. 
Eddie glares at him. “D’you want the pencil or not?” Gareth just nods, following his Dungeon Master to your locker. Eddie spins the dial and tugs on the lock. A handful of freshly-sharpened pencils sits in the case magnetically attached to the inside of the door. “There ya go,” he says, plucking one from the holder and handing it to his friend. He’s about to close it when he spots the book you’ve been so weird about. 
The right thing to do is to leave it alone, act like he never saw it. But curiosity gets the best of him, and he finds himself yanking the novel from its spot and shoving it under his jacket before anyone can see. 
Since starting a relationship with you, Eddie has been better about going to class, but he ditches today in favor of devouring the mysterious book. He’s already intrigued by the cover: a half-naked man wearing only skin-tight leather pants, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He’s pressed up against a woman in a flowing white dress, looking almost virginal, a stark contrast to her male counterpart.
Eddie drives out to his secret spot in the woods, getting as comfortable as he can on the picnic bench before diving into the book. He knows he doesn’t have time to read it all, so he skims it for anything that stands out. His eyes widen when Jonas eats Cassidy out while she’s taking phone calls at work, ending with her bent over the desk while he pounds her from behind. And when Cassidy calls Jonas “sir,” pleading for him to fuck her right there on the beach, Eddie feels a twitch in his pants. He’s usually the one initiating sex, and when you do it, he immediately obliges. Do you want him to make you beg?
Glancing at his watch, he realizes that he needs to get back to school and return the book before you notice that it’s missing. He speeds back to Hawkins High, eyes on the road but mind spinning with thoughts of you and him in Cassidy and Jonas’s places. 
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Only one of his friends has a steady girlfriend, so Eddie seeks him out righr after they finish band practice. 
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks Jeff, biting on his lower lip nervously. 
Jeff nods. “Sure, man. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, not an emergency,” Eddie reassures him. “Just, uh, does Shelby read, like, sexy books?”
Jeff cocks an eyebrow and wrinkles his nose. “Sometimes. Why, you want a recommendation?” He laughs, but stops when he sees his friend’s serious expression. “Dude, what’s up? You’re kinda scaring me now.”
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles. “‘S just…I found one of those books in Y/N’s locker, and it’s…a lot. Like, the guy takes the girl and does it with her anywhere and everywhere. And if that’s what Y/N wants…I mean, that’s not exactly what we do.” He fidgets with his fingers, embarrassed to be having this conversation with Jeff, but he doesn’t know who else to ask.
“So do them,” Jeff says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Eddie gives an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have the money to just whisk her away to a fancy hotel room, and it’s not like we have an abundance of beaches here.” The closest thing to a beach is Lovers Lake, and sex there is like an infection waiting to happen. “There is one scene where he surprises her at work…”
“There ya go!” Jeff exclaims. “Don’t you pick her up when she closes, like the whipped little boyfriend you are?” Eddie gives him a shove, but he cracks a smile. “C’mon, a bookworm like her getting laid in the library? Probably a dream come true!”
The lanky metalhead considers this before bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “Yeah, okay! I’ll do that!” You work the closing shift tomorrow, so it’ll be perfect. All he has to do is show up and sweep you off of your feet.
And maybe give you an earth-shattering orgasm or two in the bookstacks. 
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You’re shelving the last of the returns when you hear the familiar rap on the door. Eddie is standing on the other side of the sliding glass, waiting for you to unlock it. It’s a humid May evening, but he’s wearing a leather jacket. 
“Hey, baby,” you smile as you let him in. “Aren’t you warm in that?” you ask, pointing to his outerwear. 
Eddie’s lower lip juts out in a pout. “You don’t like it?”
“I love it, Eds. You look ridiculously hot.” You grab his ringed fingers and smirk salaciously. “Can’t wait to get you home, yeah?”
“Actually,” he starts, “I was hopin’ you could help me find a book first. It’s called Fast Ride.” He pulls you closer to him, a mischievous grin of his own spreading across his face. 
Your face heats up at the mention of the novel. “Is that a joke?” you manage. “How did you—did you go through my stuff?”
“I saw it in your locker when I was getting a pencil for Gareth, and I had to know what all the fuss was about. Didn’t realize my girl was into such kinky stuff.” Eddie starts to lean in to kiss your neck, but you push him away. 
“If you came here to make fun of me, you can leave,” you choke out, tears burning in your eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you; I knew you’d just laugh at me.”
Your boyfriend cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “Baby, baby,” he coos, kissing your forehead. “‘M not making fun of you. I think it’s really, really fuckin’ hot.”
“Y-You do?”
“Hell yeah,” he reassures you. “Got me wonderin’ if, maybe, you’d like to reenact one of the scenes.” He wipes away a rogue tear from your chin and kisses your lips. “I was thinkin’ about the one where Jonas sees Cassidy at her job and just has to have her.”
Your entire body warms at the idea of him having his way with you right here, right now. “I know where the cameras won’t catch us,” you murmur against his soft lips, and you feel them curl into a smile. 
You lead Eddie to the very back of the library where you keep the “to be discarded” books. They’re already worn with broken spines, so no one will notice if there’s any further damage to them. As soon as he’s certain that you’re both tucked away safely, he kisses you hungrily.
“Can’t wear that tight little skirt and expect me not to devour you, baby doll,” he growls. You notice that he slips in the pet name that Jonas uses for Cassidy, and you hum your approval. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as he hoists you against the shelf, pressing his erection into your clothed pussy. You begin to trail kisses down his neck, just the way he likes it, but he pulls away.
“Tonight’s all about you, mmkay? Making my girl feel good like only I can.” He tightens his grasp and whispers into your ear, “let me take care of you, princess.”
“Yes, sir,” you concede, letting him take complete control. “I’ll take whatever you give me.” After years of constantly trying to make the right decision, always worrying whether or not you’re choosing correctly, it feels so freeing to let someone else take the reins.
“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans, slowly lowering you to the ground as he kneels on the old, worn carpet. He bunches up your skirt around your waist, hooking a finger into your panties and tugging them aside. “I gotta taste you.” You whimper as he kisses up your inner thighs until he reaches your cunt, licking at your pussy. His lips attach to your clit, sucking on it harshly. A chuckle escapes his throat when you let out a moan. “Sshh, we gotta be quiet, baby. We’re in a library, remember?”
“S-sorry,” you stutter, but your apology is cut short by the feeling of his tongue pressed inside your weeping hole, and you grab onto the shelf with one hand, lacing the fingers of the other into Eddie’s wild mane of hair. Involuntarily, you whine loudly at the stimulation, and Eddie pulls back. “W-why did you…”
He wipes your slick from his chin. “I told you that we have to be quiet,” he hisses, “but it looks like you can’t obey that rule, can you?”
“I-I’ll be quiet. I’ll be good. I promise.” But you know it’s no use; he’s already standing up. His pupils are blown wide with lust, and he bites down on your neck. 
“There’s one surefire way to keep you quiet, isn’t there, baby doll?” He tilts your chin so that your gaze meets his. The words are strong and confident, but his eyes are still caring, giving you an out if you want it. You nod at him, biting your lower lip in anticipation. “On your knees, princess.”
You find the strength to utter another “yes, sir,” and do as Eddie says while he unbuckles his belt and pulls his hard cock out of his pants. He pumps it once, twice, three times before tapping it on your lips. You open your mouth obediently, swirling your tongue around the pink tip as it twitches against your cheek. You take his balls into your hands, palming them and tugging softly, just enough to drive him wild.
“Thassit,” he murmurs. “Look up at me while you suck my cock. Look so pretty with your mouth full, dontcha?” You hum your response, sending vibrations along his length that make him throw his head back with a noisy exhale.
“Sshh,” you parrot him, letting his cock go with a pop. A trail of saliva mixed with Eddie’s pre-cum connects you to it. “We gotta be quiet.” You giggle at your bratty attitude, hoping that he’ll take the bait.
Sure enough, he pulls you to your feet, and you stumble slightly. “Y’okay?” he mouths,and you offer a breathy yes. He steadies you before bringing you to a shorter shelf. “Bend over for me.”
“Nuh-uh,” you tease, blowing him a kiss. You don’t even have time to taunt him further before his firm palm presses into your back as he pushes you; he takes the other and smacks your ass so hard that it very well may leave a print. 
“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts, rubbing his cock back and forth along your folds, using your slick as lubricant. You feel the stretch as he slides inside you, pleasure and pain intermingling in perfect harmony. “Now you’ve gotta take your punishment.” With another spank on your ass, he thrusts into your aching sex. Neither of you bother to abide by the silence he once demanded.
“Punish me, sir; I’ve been a bad girl.” You can feel him growing even harder within your walls, and you clench around him. “Fuck me as hard as you want; I can take it.”
Eddie brings himself almost fully out of you before he slams back in, making you yelp in surprise. “Take it…take it…that’s my girl. So fuckin’ good, even when she’s bad.” He leans his chest against your back, and grips your pelvis, keeping you impossibly close. “Gonna let me cum inside you?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” 
“Fuck–I’m fuckin’ tellin’ you, baby girl,” he mutters through gritted teeth, never stopping his rhythmic pumping. “You’re gonna take all my cum. Every. Last. Drop.” He spills into you with a strangled groan, slowing his pace to bring you both down from your highs. You can feel his heaving breaths as he says, “holy shit.”
“Was that–did you like that?” you ask timidly, slipping out of your brat role and back to your normal, bookworm self.
“Did I–baby, that was so hot. Makes me mad I wasn’t fucking you in the library since day one.” Eddie laughs as he withdraws. “We gotta get you cleaned up, yeah?” He grabs the bandana from his back pocket and wipes up his mess, straightening your clothes in the process. “There ya go. Back to my place for a movie and pizza?”
You nod enthusiastically, taking his hand. Pausing for a moment, you look up at him and pose the question that you’ve been too anxious to ask. “You don’t think it’s weird that I like those books?” 
“Are you kidding?” He raises his eyebrows as you both walk to the parking lot. “Babe, I have a stack of Playboys under my bed that would call me the world’s biggest hypocrite if I judged you for this.” You playfully smack his chest, and he continues. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with havin’ a few kinks. I mean, as long as you’re exploring them with me.” He leans you against his van and brings his lips to your ear. “I’ll tell you one of mine; kinda always wanted you to call me ‘daddy’ while we’re…y’know…”
“Hmm,” you smile, grasping his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. “I think I can manage that.”
Eddie’s face lights up and he picks you up, spinning you around. “You’re so perfect, I fuckin’ swear.” He opens your door for you and helps you onto the seat. You wait for him to get in and start the car before you speak again.
“Hey, Eds?”
“Hm?”
“How would you feel about learning to ride a motorcycle?”
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