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#they’re such sweethearts and it’s lovely he waited so long to marry her instead of settling with someone else
victoriademedici · 10 months
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~~What's your favorite old royal? And modern royal?
All of these royals aren’t exactly at the very top of my list for royals I’d wish to meet but I think they’re all very genuine and it would be great if I could meet/could’ve met them all. (Also, I don’t think anyone would appreciate me considering anything before 60s old so I went with much older.)
Old royal: King Harald v or Queen Sonja or Princess Anne
Deceased royal: Princess Lilian or Prince Philip or Queen Elizabeth ii or these Tudors/Stuarts/Romanovs I know next to nothing historically accurate about lol
Modern royal: Crown Princess Victoria or Crown Princess Mette-Marit or Princess Madeleine (I have the best chance of meeting her family) or Princess Ingrid Alexandra or Princess Leonor or James, Earl of Wessex or Queen Letizia or Queen Camilla or Queen Máxima
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steviewashere · 2 months
Text
Debrief
Rating: General CW: None Really Apply to This One! Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Deep Breath Exercises, Dialogue Heavy, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has Seizures (Not shown), Steve Harrington has Migraines (Not shown), Stressed Steve Harrington, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington, Not Really Said But it Is Implied, Negative Stimming (Hair Pulling), Teacher Steve Harrington
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is helping them unwind after a rough day."
💕—————💕
It was a bad day when Eddie hears the front door slam close. The first telltale sign that Steve’s had it rough, that he’s worked himself up, that he’s thinking too hard and too fast and needs to unwind. What comes next is the groans and the huffs and the irritated little sighs. The slamming of his thermos on the dining table. A chucked briefcase. Sneakers that, from where Eddie can see on their couch, get creased on the heel from how Steve takes them off. Never a good sign.
Just as he rocks forward to stand up from his comfortable cushion, Steve comes careening around the corner. A lukewarm plastic bottle of water in his left hand, glasses unfolded and dangling in the other. His hair is standing up every which way, as if he’s been pulling at it for the last little bit. Dress shirt untucked, sweater vest already absent from his body. He’s removed his belt somewhere in the time it took him to get home. So his pants are threatening to fall off his waist. But he just rushes over to the couch and plops down unceremoniously. Eddie leans back in his spot, attempting to nonchalantly lay about his space, waiting for Steve to start the conversation.
Really, he shouldn’t let Steve continue to be worked up. But, for the sake of who Steve is and for the sake of an argument-less night, Eddie has to indulge.
It’s not even three minutes later that the water bottle is crumpled in Steve’s grip, empty, and carelessly thrown onto their coffee table. Eddie turns down the volume of their TV as soon as Steve huffs.
“I fucking hate this new principal,” he seethes. Here we go, Eddie thinks, though calm. “She just drops into my classroom without giving me any sort of warning. Gets all my kids excited to the point they can’t calm down. Her fucking heels were practically stomping about the tile. And she is so demanding!” Steve’s elbows are set heavily on his knees, pressing down hard enough to leave an obvious divot in his pants. His fingers are splayed over the sides of his face, itching to move into his hair.
Eddie turns towards him a little. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet, at least.
“Fucking—“ He cuts himself off with a groan. “—Going through my lesson plan! Tsking under her breath whenever she sees something not up to her standards. Grumbling that certain things were going to be too hard or too long or too…Ugh!” There his hands go, wrapping around tendrils of his hair. He tugs hard enough that the skin on his scalp stretches with the movement. “At least my previous boss would wait until after the students left the classroom! At least she’d fucking explain in length why certain things weren’t working. This new principal, she just fucking takes it upon herself to scratch things out all willy-nilly—AND—she doesn’t consult me about it first! Doesn’t even explain! Doesn’t give me the chance to explain! I just—I don’t—“
This is the time where Eddie has to cut in. He leans into Steve’s space little by little. Enough until they’re warm at each other’s sides. His hands cover the backs of Steve’s. “Let go, honey,” he whispers. And waits, squeezing at Steve’s skin until he does release. “There we go,” Eddie murmurs, “Take a deep breath for me.”
He stutters through an inhale, but instead of exhaling—“It’s so stupid! Who the fuck does she think she is?! And none of the other teachers like her! They all think—“
“Steve,” Eddie murmurs firmer, “You need to take a deep breath.” Inhale and exhale. Then, Eddie states, “Stress causes seizures and migraines, sweetheart. She isn’t somebody worth getting sick over.”
“She’s my boss, Eddie,” Steve whines back.
Eddie runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s arms. Some of the tension seeps from his shoulders, but the rest of his body is pulled taut like a brand new bow. “I know,” he whispers, “but she doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. And you getting sick over somebody like her only does harm.” He ducks down and meets Steve’s eyes. They’re shiny with tears, red on the waterlines, squinted to avoid crying. “You can tell me about what happened, but I’m going to help you, alright? You remember how we do this?”
Steve sniffles. One of his hands wipes at the bottom of his nose, coming away wet with snot. He grimaces, but sucks on his bottom lip in thought. When it comes to him, he mumbles, “Deep breaths. Quiet voice.”
Nodding, Eddie whispers, “You got it, love bug. Take another deep breath and then tell me what’s bothering you.” He brings a palm to settle over Steve’s chest, rubbing in slow circles over his heart. It’s beating hard and fast under his palm. Unsettling. Pressing a little into his sternum, Eddie requests, “Go ahead and lay down on the couch.” He stands from his spot and waits for Steve to elongate. Once his legs are stretched out and his head is cushioned on one of their lousy throw pillows, Eddie settles on the edge of the middle cushion, close to Steve’s hip. He keeps his hand on Steve’s chest. Doesn’t crowd his space, but the heavy weight of his arm is reminder enough that he’s there.
Steve closes his eyes. Hands rested on his belly. Fingers splayed instead of tugging at one another. The inhale lasts for four seconds. And Eddie’s proud of the way Steve holds it, the entire seven seconds. Not once giving up on it. When he exhales, his eyes flutter back open. He finds Eddie’s face, gives him a tight smile, and nibbles on his bottom lip. His eyebrows raise in silent question and Eddie simply nods in response.
“The new principal at my school made me angry today by vetoing my entire lesson plan,” he states calmly. “She had asked for my schedule for the day, which always includes my plans. And I watched her sit at the back of the classroom. With her stupid—“
With his palm, Eddie presses down lightly on Steve’s chest. “Deep breath, Steve,” he commands softly. They avoid using words like stupid when Steve debriefs like this. As soon as his tone goes sharp, his heart rate elevates, the louder his voice gets, the more frustrated he is, and then the whole day crumbles around them.
Another four seconds. Then seven. And eight on the release. Steve asks for permission, Eddie grants it to him.
“She pulled out a ballpoint pen, not a pencil, and marked out things on my plan she didn’t like. Which was most of it,” he relays, “And that made me irritated, not angry. But then a kid asked her what she was doing. So she told this kid the truth.” His hands spasm lightly on his belly as if attempting to bunch his shirt, but he prevents himself from completing the action. “And he said really loudly that the principal was ‘Giving Mr. Harrington a bad grade.’ That shouldn’t embarrass me, but it did. Because—“ He stops to take a deep breath of his own, not even prompted by Eddie.
He smiles to himself as Steve closes his eyes and inhales. Does the whole exercise. And clears his throat to continue.
“—Because it made me feel like I did a bad job. Like I—Like maybe I failed?” He questions rhetorically, searching for the right word. And decides that, yep, that was right. “It made me frustrated that she couldn’t keep that confidential from the student. And it only made me angrier when the kids began to laugh and tease me. I shouldn’t be so—“ He stops himself with another groan.
Palm press. Breath. Exhale. Permission.
“I got so overwhelmed, Eddie,” he admits. Completely shameful. “I didn’t know how to reign them back in, even though I’ve been doing this for nearly ten whole years. There wasn’t any yelling or anything, but she was scolding me with her eyes. Made me feel like—“ And instead of a groan, there’s a sniffle. Small and polite, but there. “—Like I was getting reprimanded by my dad. Which is so humiliating. And I just felt…Small. Like I wasn’t there at all. Wasn’t a teacher. As if I—As if maybe I didn’t deserve to be there today.” And at that, Steve crumbles a little further. Tears sluggishly leaking down his face.
Eddie rubs his thumb over Steve’s chest. He aches. “Oh, baby,” he breathes. “You deserve to be there, Steve. You’ve worked hard for your job. For those kids. I’m sorry she made you feel that way, sweetheart.” He presses lightly once more on Steve’s chest. “Take one more deep breath, alright?”
As Steve does what he’s told, Eddie gently lays his hands on either side of his face. Thumbs wiping away at the tears. He’s surprised that Steve lets him, but then again, today was rough enough. Probably didn’t want to make it harder on himself.
“You know what I think, Steve?” He questions.
Steve hums in response, eyes finding his, big and wet and tired.
“I think she’s very unprofessional,” Eddie states sure. “I think that you did your best with what happened. It’s not your fault that the students acted the way they did. It wasn’t okay of her to tell that student your business. And it definitely should’ve been a conversation she had with you outside of classroom time,” he immediately validates. Because, yeah, this whole situation is bullshit. And you know what? Eddie kind of hates this principal, too. Maybe he has a little bit of a bias, but that doesn’t matter. “She shouldn’t make anybody feel that way. You know what I think you should do? And fair warning, it’s kind of a big scary move.”
“What should I do?” Steve asks, his voice raspy from crying, but calm and curious.
“You need to talk to her boss. Explain to them what you told me. Calmly, by the way. You have to keep your head on your shoulders,” Eddie explains. “But I know that you can. Because you seem a bit better, right?” Steve nods. “Just rung out now, huh?” Again, Steve nods. Sometimes the words are too big for his mouth, the emotions having already been large enough for his chest. “And that’s okay,” Eddie tells him, validating again. “I’ll order in our dinner. Put on a movie. And we can just cuddle. I don’t expect anything more out of you.”
“Okay,” Steve tiredly mutters. He does sound small. Like he’s a teenager all over again, not well into middle age. “Will you help me figure out the words to explain again? Just so I don’t make a fool out of myself?”
“Of course,” Eddie agrees. “But I think we should do that tomorrow after your day, okay? I think today’s been enough of a burden for you.” He runs his palms down the sides of Steve’s neck, over his shoulders, down to his hands and holds him gently. “I’ll grab your pajamas. You get comfy. And remember that I love you. And you’re enough. And you do such a good job at what you do.”
Steve smiles softly at him. “I love you, too,” he whispers. And that, in itself, is enough of a thanks for Eddie.
💕—————💕
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straylightdream · 1 year
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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full stray kids list
feedback and reblog with tags are greatly appreciate when you read one of my fics!
@straylightdream — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
~
contains smut: ♡
connecting series
ssfw - college au
ilysb (i’m gonna love you) - coming soon
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between the lines ♡
arranged marriage au
↳ After being used a nothing more then a pawn to gain the upper hand on Chan. They’re left in a strained marriage and only one way out.
outta my head ♡
neighbors au / fuckboy chan
↳ He’s a lives next door and is someone who sleeps around often. You’re a nurse who is struggling to get enough sleep because of his night time activities.
illicit affair ♡
modern royal au / star-crossed lovers
↳ He was Prince and soon to be King, and she was his a royal assistant who looked after him. Thing between them have changed as they cross a line that they probably shouldn’t of crossed.
somebody else ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader, lee know x f.reader
friends to lovers au
↳  She loved him more then anything or anyone in all the galaxy. From the moment they met he was suddenly her everything.
give yourself a try ♡
fake dating au
↳ She had to attend her estrange fathers wedding, and didn’t want to go alone. Chan offers to go as her fake boyfriend so she doesn’t have to face the wedding alone.
where were you ♡
exes to lovers / fuckboy chan
↳  They were high school sweethearts and Chan let his ego get the best of him. He her high and dry without a second thought.
golden hour ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader x hwang hyunjin
↳  The three of them had fallen into a habit for sharing a bed and cuddling. What happens when feelings get involved?
almost losing you ♡
monster hunter au
↳ Loving him was never easy and you wished that someone else could of stolen your heart. Someone who is wasn’t too afraid of breaking your heart.
about last night ♡
↳ you have been playing a game of cat and mouse for too long. Things come to head when you dance with someone while he watches.
i think I like you ♡ (ssfw)
friends to lover, mutual pining, college au
↳ I’ll be right here waiting for us.
not in the same way ♡
friends with benefits
↳ things get messy with feelings get involved with casual sex.
I wanna be yours ♡
roommates / friends to lovers / blind date
↳ “If you keep pacing you’re going to burn a hole in the title,” Minho said standing in the doorway.
Stopping in your tracks you looked up at Minho with wide eyes, “is it too late to cancel?”
crying over you
established relationship
↳ even after a bad fight he’ll still come to you to protect you during a thunderstorm.
its not living
friends to lovers
↳ after years of being friends you talk about what the future holds for you.
champagne & wax ♡
↳ after two years together you decide to spice things up.
death by a thousand cuts ♡ (my lover)
↳  one bad fight leads to you breaking up. What happens when you can’t stay away from the one person you truly love.
run to you ♡
friends to lovers
↳ after running away from an abusive ex there is only one person you know you’ll truly feel safe with. 
what am I missing? ♡
feat: 3racha
↳ in your mid to late twenties you’re left wondering if you missed your sexual awakening. With a the help of friends you start to really find yourself.
rose-colored boy ♡
↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
be my mistake ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader, changbin x f.reader
roommate / friends to lovers au
status: 40% done
↳ It started out as a simple crush and led to so much more. Unexpected feelings come to a head when when you learn you mean so much more to your roommates then you ever expected
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bowiebond · 1 year
Text
TW dubcon/mention of SA? (Ace character who doesn’t know they’re ace is belittled into sex — it doesn’t go into detail)
Jason never realising he’s asexual until he marries a girl and goes “oh fuck I waited until marriage like a good Christian boy, but I’m supposed to do the deed now…”
He holds off as long as possible. Makes excuses. Until it’s been months and his wife snaps at him.
“What, is your dick broken or something?! Am I not attractive enough for you? I married you in hopes of having an easy well off life with children that I could put my love into and you can’t even give me that?!”
Jason relents. He has pride and he wants to hold onto it and…well, it’s uncomfortable. It feels nice, physically, but he can’t focus on the pleasure when his skin is crawling, his stomach churning.
She’s gorgeous. Beautiful, really. He knew that. He doesn’t understand why his body doesn’t.
She doesn’t make him do it again for a while. Waits a few weeks but when there’s no positive test, she asks him to try again.
It takes four tries before she falls pregnant, and Jason is relieved. She’s gotten her baby. She doesn’t need him for anything more than a paycheck and a father now. She seems happy with that; he’s come to realise she never loved him. It explained the quick engagement. He had been swept up in his desire for a girlfriend, a wife who he’d come home to and kiss on the cheek and maybe watch a movie with that he never considered that maybe she didn’t want that too.
It feels like a break up, Jason thinks. He’s only been through one before with his highschool sweetheart, Chrissy.
Jason wonders if maybe he’s gay. It’s a thought that makes his gut clench and his throat tighten up. Hell, he even tries to watch some stuff. It does little to nothing for him. He stares hours at his screen, switching between pornos, straight and gay and even lesbian, but nothing strikes him as appealing. He half-considers the videos where men would pet their kneeling boys, interested in the gentle flushes it would induce, but it didn’t stir anything that made his dick hard. It just made his heart race, really, the intimacy of it.
He decides he’s not gay. Just…fundamentally broken. Or maybe he had been born for priesthood, celibate for life. Fuck, that sounded like a good life to him.
So he does it. He joins the priesthood. He’s married, sure, but it’s an easy excuse to why he can’t sleep with her anymore. He’s devoted to this way of life, he told her. To God. And he was. He had grown up looking towards the sky.
After a year, she divorces him. It’s hard, and rocky, but she finds a new man within two years who she actually does love.
He gets a son anyway, Joseph, even if he only sees him three days out of the week and he’s unable to stay the night most days because his mother is clingy regarding her baby. The few times he does get his boy for the night, he curls the five year old into his chest and reads him storybooks until he nods off, all chubby cheeks and tousled blond hair like his father.
He hopes he never grows up. Never gets bigger. Because one day he won’t want to share a bed with his father, be held by him, or even visit because he had his stepdad in the picture and his ex-wife has snippy comments on her tongue about him at the ready always.
But he gets older. Of course he does. Joseph is thirteen when he begs Jason to take him to see a metal band.
“I know, ‘it’s the devils music’, but they’re really good, Dad. Can’t you just do this for me, for once? Mom won’t let me go without an adult and she refuses to go with me. Or let David.” His stepdad. Joseph scowls as he spits the name. David isn’t all that bad, but he refuses to argue with his wife, and it gets on the boys nerves. Jason’s also aware there’s a bit of favouritism when it came to Joseph and their other two kids, Lauren and Peter.
Jason can’t say no. Not when his son is obviously being slighted instead of just being told no by his mother. She could be a real petty woman at times. What did Jason ever see in her?
“Fine.”
“Yes! Thank you, dad!” Joseph is buzzing the rest of the week, even offering to pay for his fathers ticket out of his saved up pocket money since Jason hadn’t been keen, but like hell was he taking his kids money.
“Keep it, ‘Seph. Buy yourself a shirt or something from the concert instead, okay?” Jason ignores that it’s a petty move on his end too. He knows his ex-wife will chuck a fit at their son wearing heavy metal merch, but the idea delights Jason. The satisfaction would be better than sex by tenfold. He would know.
Jason almost regrets coming when he sees the crowd. They’re all draped in black with wildly coloured hair and he feels like a sore thumb with his baby blue polo and white cardigan tied around his shoulders, blond hair swept back. He also feels a tad old for the crowd, but he sees a few men and women much older than him, so at least he knew he wasn’t the only grown up.
God. A priest at a heavy metal concert. What a scenario.
“Dad, dad, they’re coming on stage, oh my god.” Joseph is jumping on his toes, trying to see over the crowd and Jason, who never dropped his strict regime, figured he could chance one evening of carrying a barely teen on his shoulders. Joseph almost falls at first and laughs when Jason clamps down his hands. He’s heavier than he used to be and it makes Jason’s heart (and shoulders) ache.
He squinted over the heads to look at the stage and found himself feeling a strange sense of familiarity as a shaggy dark haired man in black and chains walked onto stage, taking the microphone in hand.
“How’re my undead fans going? You all still alive?” The crowd roared, including Joseph, and it made Jason wince at the volume. The leads voice is nice though, low and just a tad rough around the edges. “Any newbies in the crowd? First show with us?” Joseph cheered along with a few others and the lead laughed.
He pointed at Joseph, the easiest one to spot with his blond hair and elevated height.
“Good to see some fresh faces. Little white sheep here needs a shirt, seriously, you look like you’re about to puke from excitement, kid.”
“I love you, Eddie Munson!” Joseph screamed and Jason’s eyes widened in shock, jaw going slack. He almost dropped Joseph before gripping tighter.
Prays be to God.
Eddie cackled, almost falling with how low he leant back. He swung back up with a weird grace to him, hair swinging forward with the force. He stomped towards the edge and pointed harder at him.
“You — you, kid, you buy a shirt and I’ll fuckin’ sign it, you got spirit, squirt!” He spun around, still laughing as he grabbed the microphone stand. He looked over his shoulder after a moment with wide eyes. “Apologises to the parental figure. But coarse language is advised.” He grinned and grabbed his guitar with flourish, tossing the strap over his head.
“Enough talk, let’s fuckin’ let loose.” The lights shut off with a scream from fans before red bled onto the stage, fog curling around Eddie’s shadowed figure, three more figures making themselves known behind instruments.
“Let’s knock open our Coffin, boys.” The purr rumbles through the speakers, followed by a low vibrating note that makes Jason’s breath hitch and hair stand on end.
The concert is a blur. Jason had taken a few songs to get used to the volume, but he couldn’t lie. They were good. With the crowd, with their instruments — Eddie’s voice could go from warm honey to gruff, animalistic almost, within moments. It was an experience, that was for sure.
“I have to get a shirt, dad. He said he’d sign it. You think he really will?” Joseph is shaking all over and Jason is only mildly concerned. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking too, but it’s in a good way?
“I’m sure he will.” Jason decides he should probably avoid going backstage with his son. Eddie and him hadn’t been…friendly. Less than. Jason had thought Eddie annoying as all hell and he’s pretty sure Eddie hated his guts.
Unfortunately, Joseph’s too young to go backstage alone according to the bodyguard.
“Please, dad? It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise, this is a once in a life time. I’ll never ask for anything ever again!” He begs and Jason had already folded to his whims when he said please.
Seeing Eddie up close is staggering. Makes his heart stop and start and sputter like an old car. When Eddie looks at him, he knows he’s put a name to the face in moments.
“Carver?”
Joseph’s eyes widen as he looks between Eddie and his father.
“Munson.” He greets back. Joseph’s mouth fell open in shock.
“You know Eddie Munson, dad?” There’s stars in his sons eyes and Jason wants to kick his younger self in the rear for being a dick to Eddie because now his son is going to reap what he sowed in his youth.
“I…We went to school together.” He thinned his lips and Eddie was watching him intensely. It made his cheeks hot. He had never been able to hide his embarrassment or shame with how pale he was.
“You haven’t changed.” Eddie remarked, eyeing his outfit with a smirk. Jason bristled at his words.
“And I see you’re still a—“ A scowl was growing but it fell apart when his son spoke.
“You were friends with Eddie Munson, dad?! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, this is the best day of my life! My boring priest dad was friends with a rockstar!” Joseph’s voice cracked, squeaky like every boy starting puberty. Jason’s heart plummeted. Anxiety swirled in his gut as he realised he was about to disappoint his only child, opening his lips to refute his claim.
“Oh, yeah, totally, little dude.” Eddie interjects, grinning. “We go wayyyy back. Best friends, really.” It was a bold faced lie and even his band mates seemed to agree it was a total farce from the looks on their faces, ranging from bewilderment to eye rolling exhaustion.
“Why did you stop being friends then?” Joseph frowned.
“I got busy with my career, obviously!” Eddie gestured to their surroundings. “I didn’t have a lot of time to phone and catch up. Totally my bad, really.” Holy shit, he was really going the full mile on this one. Jason wasn’t sure whether to applaud him or not.
Joseph elbowed his fathers side and looked at him expectantly.
“Maybe you should get back in contact so you have some actual friends. Ones that are cool.” He barely whispered it and Jason’s ears burned.
“I have friends. Everybody at church is my friend, Joseph.” He snipped out between clenched teeth, glaring at his son who scoffed. When had he become such a snarky kid? He used to be so sweet.
“That doesn’t count.”
“I’m too busy, Joseph.”
“You don’t even do anything when I don’t visit—“
“I do so—“
“Yeah but not like, a lot—“
“Hey, quit punching your old man while he’s down. You should know better.” Eddie laughed, pinching at the blond boys Corroded Coffin tee that he had thrown on over the top of his other shirt. “Come here, let me sign this thing. I’ll even add in a Polaroid you can frame.” He winked and Joseph’s eyes sparkled.
“Please!”
“So he has manners when he wants something.” Jason muttered. Eddie grinned and pulled Joseph closer, signing the shirt with his name. He called over his bodyguard to take a photo. Jason stood off to the side awkwardly, waiting to leave.
“C’mon, you too, old pal.” Eddie pulls him in last second and Jason’s pretty sure his wide eyes will be immortalised on his sons dresser, along with the blonds mused fringe flipped up against Eddie’s frizzy dark locks. He looks ridiculous, he bemoans to himself as each member autographs the Polaroid.
“Okay, come on, we have to head home now or your mother will throw a fit.” Jason ushers Joseph to say his goodbyes.
“Tell your wife I said hi, Carver.” Eddie drolls on his way out and Jason huffs.
“She’s not my wife.” And he was glad for it.
Just as they made for the door, Jason felt a hand on his wrist. He jumps and nearly trips over his own damn feet when Eddie tugs his arms around to expose his forearm, squiggling down several digits with his tongue peeking out between his lips, concentrated.
Jason tugged his arm away with his heartbeat in his ears when Eddie caught his eye, grinning.
“Call me sometime. You know. To catch up.” He winked and Jason was thrown for a moment at the gesture.
“Uh…sure.” He cleared his throat and left quickly with Joseph who was gushing about the fact that his father had Eddie Munson’s phone number.
Jason doesn’t intend to call it. So he doesn’t. It’s two weeks later and he’s happy to forget all about the meeting when a familiar face walks right through his church doors.
“What’re you doing here?” He hissed quietly, making his way down the aisle. It was after his service, so there wasn’t anybody except Thomson, who always stayed an extra hour to pray alone. His wife was going through a hard battle with cancer, so Jason never disturbed him. Sometimes, he’d even pray with him, or before bed, he’d pray on his behalf.
“Checking if I burn when I enter holy ground.” Eddie mimicked his whisper, a crooked grin on his lips and hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight black pants. “Seems I’m still safe after fifteen years.”
“How did you even know this was my church?” Jason looked back towards Thomson and huffed, leading Eddie back out of the door and closing it behind them. He wasn’t going to disturb the poor man. “Are you stalking me or something?”
“Your son told me.” Eddie shrugged and Jason blinked a few times.
“How did my son tell you?”
“You didn’t use my number, but he sure did.” Eddie smirked and Jason’s face burned with realisation. Joseph must have memorised the number on his forearm. That sneaky brat.
“I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “He’s a good kid but he’s nosy at the worst times. Gets it from his mother. I’m sure you have plenty of things to be doing instead of entertaining a thirteen year old.”
Eddie snorted.
“Kid worships the ground I walk on. I’m happy to entertain him.” There was a long pause between them, and Jason hated how cool Eddie seemed with it. Jason could never stand the quiet.
“I’m…also sorry about high school.” He forced the words past his lips. He was, to a degree, sorry. He had been a douchebag. His years in service had humbled him greatly, especially with how many folks he met from different walks of life. Becoming a priest had made him reevaluate a lot about himself.
Eddie was still a prick though. He had antagonised Jason just as much back then, even if Jason had had the popularity to back him unlike Eddie.
“Honestly? Me too. We were stupid, teenage dicks.” Eddie conceded and Jason rolled his eyes.
“You were a freak though.”
“And you were a preppy shitstain jock.”
They stared at each other, and after a long silence, Jason’s lip quirked up.
“Forgive and forget?”
“Something tells me if I don’t say yes now, I’ll have to say a dozen Hail Mary’s instead later.”
“Only half a dozen. I can be nice.” Jason shrugged and Eddie cackled, head thrown back.
“God, Carver, man, I never thought this would be how we met again. A priest. I mean, it makes sense, you bible thumper.” He teased, trying to hook a finger under the white band of his collar. Jason smacked his hand away with a huff.
“My church is about sharing Gods teachings and Jesus’ love with people who want it. I wouldn’t call myself a bible thumper. That implies I’m out rallying against gay marriage and abortions in my free time. I don’t care what folks outside my church do. I learnt that early on.”
“Oh wow. You’re all ‘love thy neighbour’, huh?” Eddie seemed genuinely surprised. “Not gonna stone a whore in the front yard?”
“Gosh no!” Jason put a hand to chest, appalled. “If she finds pleasure in flesh, good for her, but I will pass. And perhaps advise her to be safe. And evaluate why she prefers one night stands to a healthy, long term relationship with an active partner and plentiful sex.” He crossed his arms with a shrug of his shoulders and brows.
Eddie laughed. Full belly laughed, bent at the knees and wheezing a little.
“Oh my god! You’re literally — full one-eighty! You’re a whole new guy! This is…god, this is kind of hilarious.”
“You didn’t change, from what I’m seeing.” Jason mused. Eddie grinned.
“Nah. I mean, I grew up, had to to be in the biz long term, but I’m still everybody’s favourite freak.” He joked with a good-natured shrug.
“And now you’re standing outside my church.”
“The kid is convinced we have to reconnect. Be friends again.” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a sucker for kids, man. Can’t disappoint them.”
“Do you have any?”
“Nah. I mean — I could have.” Eddie admitted shyly. “Didn’t work out. Got too wrapped up in my career, couldn’t settle. And groupies, try as they might to convince you I hooked up with them, and knocked them up; I didn’t.”
“Why not?” Jason quirked a brow. “Isn’t that the big things with rockstars? Drugs, music and women?”
Eddie barked a laugh.
“Drugs? Some hard stuff in my youth. Some weed when I need to mellow out during a writing sesh. Music? Ear-aching amount. But I’m proud of it. As for women…” He leaned in closer, voice low as he spoke. “Not really my type.” He pulled back with thin lips and Jason’s heart thumped harder in his chest, his collar feeling too tight.
“I told you. I don’t judge people. Only the Creator can.” He looked up at the clear blue sky. “And he doesn’t make mistakes.” He assured softly and Eddie smiled. “So…you’re gay.”
“Not exactly.” Eddie shrugged, looking a bit shy. “Not really interested in anybody. Not in that way.”
Jason frowned.
“Is that why you aren’t married?” Despite his many rings, Eddie’s left ring finger was bare. “You don’t…can’t love anyone?”
“I do. I can.” Eddie affirmed. “Just, uh, not interested in showing it through…physical means.”
It clicked in Jason’s head then. His eyes widened, lips parted in surprise.
“I see.”
“Must suck. Being a priest. Celibacy and all.” Eddie suddenly said, shifting his stance to something faux-casual. Trying to move the subject off himself and his lack of desire.
“Not really. It’s why I went into it.” Jason admitted, Eddie’s confession making him feel brazen.
“You went into priesthood for…the abstinence?” Eddie frowned, squinting in confusion.
“Well, I had faith, and I was in a marriage I was unhappy in. She had the child she wanted. It seemed like a good option at the time. I’m glad I did it, actually.”
“Wait, just let me— are you…” Eddie gestured vaguely and Jason smirked.
“I’m not gay. I’m not really straight either. I…don’t desire sex. At all.”
“You have a son.” Eddie reminded, like Jason didn’t know.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but…I’m glad I had him, even if I wasn’t comfortable making him.” Jason truly meant that. Joseph was his pride and joy.
“So you’re asexual too?”
“Asexual?” Jason frowned. “Like a plant?”
“No, you, uh…you’re not attracted to anyone. Physically.”
“No.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “There’s a word for that?”
“Yeah.” Eddie chuckled. “There’s a lot of words for a lot of things. I am curious though; do you like anybody romantically?”
Jason thought about it. He had thought he loved his ex-wife. He knew he had loved Chrissy before they spilt. He had had plenty of crushes as a kid and even in his years as a priest, he had pined for two women, and a man for a brief time.
“My heart doesn’t discriminate.” He decided with a soft blush. Eddie grinned.
“I feel you there.”
They stared at each other a long moment and Jason’s heart only raced faster, all too aware of it. Eddie offered him a dazzling smile. The show stopping kind.
“Maybe we should hang out. Properly. I’m pretty sure the little dude is already bragging to all his friends about his uber cool dad anyway.”
“I’m only ‘uber cool’ dad when you’re mentioned.” Jason clicked his tongue. Eddie smirked.
“Obviously. I’m the uber cool part, you’re the dad.”
Jason rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, trying to hide his smile. He was doing a poor job of it.
It took him thirty five years to realise he was asexual, but it took him thirty six to realise he was in love with Eddie Munson.
Go figure. The Lord really did work in mysterious ways, huh?
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rcksmith · 3 years
Text
Not you — Five Hargreeves
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Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”
“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”
Fluff prompts:
4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”
9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”
23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”
52. "Help her first."
53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!
I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.
I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.
I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.
Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.
— — — — —
You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.
Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.
And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.
But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.
“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”
Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.
But, unlike you, it was for another reason.
Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.
It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.
But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.
“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”
“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”
Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.
Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.
Oh hell no!
Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.
“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”
Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.
You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you
Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.
“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.
After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.
But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.
His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.
But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.
So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.
And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.
“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.
“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.
You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.
After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.
Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.
But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.
But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.
So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.
“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.
“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.
“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.
Five laughed, sipping his coffee.
“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”
But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.
The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.
You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.
Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.
Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.
The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.
Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.
Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.
Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.
He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.
He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.
He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.
“Five!”
Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.
It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.
Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.
“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.
The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.
“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”
“No!” He ordered “She first!”
Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.
But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.
And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.
I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.
“So…”
Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.
“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.
“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.
“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.
“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”
Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?
You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.
Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.
“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.
“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.
“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”
The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.
“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.
The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.
“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.
He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.
“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.
“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”
He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.
“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”
Five interrupted your sentence
“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”
Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.
“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”
“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”
“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”
You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:
“I only need you, my love. Forever.”
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erwinsvow · 3 years
Text
𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
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summary: zeke knows it’s wrong. you know it’s wrong. yet something always brings you back to your step-dad when your mom’s not around.
warnings: step-cest, manipulation, infidelity, mommy issues, zeke is the devil incarnate and reader is an angel (figuratively.. for now), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, creampie, you've been warned!
author's note: lord knows how long i've been thinking about this one. zeke fuckers, this one is for you. tagging @colossalnova ! hope everyone likes it!
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“It must be so nice to have such a good daughter to take care of you,” Mr. Ksaver comments without a second thought, as you head towards the kitchen to get two cups of coffee for Zeke and his friend. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile as soon as you hear the words, delighted with the praise from someone so close to your step-father.
Zeke makes an effort to hide the smirk that comes to him so naturally, because if only Mr. Ksaver knew just how good of a daughter you were for him. But that’s a conversation for another day, he finally decides, turning back to his guest with a smile.
“Step-daughter,” he corrects with the most genuine look he can muster. He could fool a priest with that aura of ingenuity that he gives off without any effort, because after all, that’s how he had gotten you into this position in the first place.
Mr. Ksaver beams back at him, his close friend still completely in the dark.
“Oh, of course, but you two could fool anyone. Say, where’s your wife? I haven’t seen her in a while..” Tom trails off, and Zeke is glad for it. He doesn’t like talking about your mother, his new wife, if he can help it. Business trips and commitments at the salon kept much of her time occupied, leaving only brief interactions with you two, her so-called family. It didn’t take long for him to realize she had been this way most of your life, an absent parental figure since the departure of your father. As cruel as it was, he could easily see why you were the way you were.
Zeke thought you were a lot of things. Pretty was at the top of the list, along with innocent and insecure, but the biggest quality he could see in you, the one that just screamed out at him ever since that first time he had laid eyes on you, was people-pleaser.
It was so apparent in everything you did, from the modest way you dressed to the try-hard behavior you exhibited with teachers and your friends’ parents. He recognized quickly it was because your mother didn’t acknowledge any of it, not the dinners you made for the three of you or the sweet, thoughtful gifts and flowers on special occasions.
It was actually on Mother’s Day the previous year when he had been able to get you alone for the first time. The then-new Mrs. Yeager had booked a full day at the spa as a treat for herself, even though she barely had an ounce of motherly qualities in her body. She had tossed aside the bouquet you had gifted her with, skimmed the card with your sweet, handwritten note, and rolled her eyes at your own watery ones after seeing just how little she cared about this holiday that was meant for you both to celebrate.
After she had left, Zeke had knocked on your door tentatively. It was wrong of him to be as gleeful as he was on the inside, but he’d been waiting for a moment like this for the last several months. He even let twenty minutes pass before coming up to your room to make sure he would get you teary-eyed and upset, just how he wanted.
Any other girl might have told her new step-father to fuck right off, given that he had done nothing to defend you or ask your mother to be kinder towards you, but not you. Ever the people-pleaser, you wiped away your tears with the sleeves of the cardigan you’d been wearing all day, fixed yourself from the position you had been in while weeping on your bed, and told him to come in.
Zeke was fucked the minute he saw you sitting there, dressed purely like an angel in a sundress that had ridden up in your distress and with tear-lidden eyelashes blinking slowly at him. The redness of your nose and cheeks, mixed with how your hair was just a little messed up and your hiccuping whimpers painted an entirely different picture for him. At first, it had just been a game, just to see how long it would take him to seduce his new wife’s daughter, but now it was something else altogether.
But it’s the first sentence you say to him, alone in the house without your wretched mother for the first time, that breaks him.
“S-Sorry Zeke. I didn’t want to eat after that, but I can go get everything ready again for you.” For him. Your mother’s cold behavior had you crying your eyes out before noon, and yet you were still concerned about the lunch you had prepared and if he wanted to eat.
It made his heart burn in a lecherous way, with thoughts in his head about why he hadn’t married you instead of her.
“That’s okay, honey, don’t worry about me. I came to check up on you.” He’s holding up the facade well, he thinks, closing the door gently behind him and hearing the click of the latch. He’s only been in your room a handful of times, and for most of those occasions, you hadn’t been there, so he couldn’t act too comfortable. His eyes roamed around the space, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume that lingered on every object and shoving his hands into his pockets to seem as unassuming as possible.
You wipe away a stray tear, blinking quickly and looking back at him with big eyes. Damn your eyes, honestly, because he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against them, especially when they’re so watery like that.
“Check up on me?” you let out in a soft voice. It’s adorable, honestly, how you think your new step-father would be just like your mother and not care about you at all. You’re not used to this kind of affection from anyone besides your friends from school, and even they don’t know about the reality of your home life. You don’t know what it’s like to have a parent check up on you, to have them want to make sure you’re okay, and suddenly you can feel your face burning with heat at the realization that you and Zeke are all alone in your bedroom.
Zeke is handsome according to anyone’s standards, but for some reason, you can never tear your eyes away from him when he doesn’t know you’re looking. He’s old enough to be your father—your real father, that is—but that doesn’t stop you. You always find yourself staring at his golden locks that shine especially bright when he’s in the sun after his daily run, when you’re watering your garden and your mother isn’t home from work yet. Or when he’s just left the shower and every part of his body is dripping wet, walking back to his bedroom and you catch a glimpse through your open door.
It’s easy to think of him as off-limits, though, since you would never hurt your mother like that. She doesn’t show you affection, or care about you like how your friends’ mothers care for them, but she’s still your mom. Nothing would ever justify betraying her like this, by having these illicit thoughts about your step-father. So you make sure you stop staring, avoid being alone with him as much as you can and create excuses to get out of spending time with him, but you don’t think any of that is really working.
Because now, with Zeke in your bedroom and the sleeves of your cardigan wet with far too many tears, you don’t really care if this is wrong. All you care about is how Zeke is inching closer to your bed with every step.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I wanted to make sure you were okay after all that. It’s not easy, I know,” he says in such a soothing tone that you feel yourself getting lost in the daze of it.
“You know?” you question again, wondering if Zeke could really relate to you. You had always felt like such an outcast, the poor girl nobody loved or wanted, without any love in her life at all.
“Uh-huh, I know. I really hate that your mother won’t treat you better, but you know her, she’s not gonna change,” he watches your nodding face and resigned expression. “Can I-?” he motions to the space next to you on the bed.
“Oh, sure, please,” you say quickly, moving yourself over a bit and making room for him, dress exposing even more of the soft skin of your legs now. He tries not to stare, and every part of him wants to put a hand on your thigh and stroke softly, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. Not yet. He’ll take his time.
“Thank you for saying that.” Your voice is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it.
“Of course. I mean, you are my daughter now, aren’t you?” He’s pushing his luck, but oh well. “I guess… it’s sort of my responsibility to take care of you, right?”
He sees your eyes widen a little, probably a million thoughts running through your little head. You’re so used to being alone, not having anyone’s affection, that a few simple words from Zeke have you fucked. Probably feeling the same way he is in this moment, eager and affectionate and ready. You find yourself nodding at his sweet words.
Any other day, you might have doubted the sincerity of what he was feeding you, but your mind was already a little fuzzy from the interaction with your mother. You still don’t know why you had gotten your hopes up so much, when it always led to disappointment in the end. You wish you could go back and warn yourself not to expect so much from your mother, who was almost as absent a parental figure as your father.
In that moment, Zeke’s kind words and welcoming arms didn’t seem so bad. You could only imagine that he felt the same way you did, as you doubted your mother was being a good wife to him from the interactions you observed.
“I…” you begin, but trail off when you notice the way Zeke’s eyes are looking at you. You almost instinctively lean back and away from him, like a lamb avoiding a predator, when you focus on how he’s much too close to you.
You’re entirely overwhelmed by his piercing, concerned gaze and the uncomfortable heat you feel between your thighs—your throat runs dry and you know it’s not from the crying. You think he must notice it too, with the way he leans forward, one more movement from him and you’d be trapped between Zeke’s broad figure and your bed.
He supposes that was the make-or-break moment in this little dalliance between you two. In that moment, had you been uncertain or asked him to leave, he would have listened to you and likely never bothered you again. All the same, he knew you wouldn’t.
You look back fondly on that Mother’s Day, the day you gave yourself over to Zeke without the slightest bit of regret. Your mother had returned home later that night, with nails and hair freshly done, acting as though there could have been no better way to spend Mother’s Day. She walked right past you sitting on the couch with Zeke, ignoring his tousled hair and your swollen lips.
Since then, it had been a fun sort of game. You felt guilty, of course, but nothing could compare to the thrill of the secret you had with Zeke, just for you two and no one else. He was more adventurous than you, always sneaking kisses and lingering touches when your mother was just a room away, fucking you roughly with a hand clasped over your mouth while she was on a conference call in her office down the hall.
Over time, you felt yourself becoming adventurous too. You had never done anything like this before, anything remotely bad or wrong, and it was safe to say that you were sinking further and further into the pit of corruption that Zeke had created.
Which is how you ended up here today.
You brought back two steaming cups of coffee on a platter to the living room, setting them down and mixing in cream and sugar for Zeke’s. You hand the cup to him with a sweet smile, and he takes a sip contentedly.
“Just perfect, like always.” The praise makes you smile widely, cheeks feeling warm despite the fact that you had a guest.
“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Ksaver?” you ask politely, as the elderly man laughs and takes the cup into his hand.
“Just plain black, thank you. I never had a taste for sweet things, like Zeke does.” If only he knew.
You smile again and bid goodbye, taking the tray with you as you leave and heading back to your room. You knew Zeke would be up as soon as he was done, since your mother was still out and you had precious time together, all alone.
As soon as you heard the front door close, and the sound of ignition starting from outside your window, you were alert. You could hear Zeke’s footsteps coming up the staircase, eagerly anticipating him this time.
He doesn’t knock anymore, letting himself in and closing the door gently behind him, as always. You hear the lock click quietly.
“Daddy,” you mumble from your place on your bed. You’re lying against the pillows now, fully on display for him in his favorite dress and already wet at the thought of what he would do to you once he got you alone.
“Yes, honey?” He says, in a tone that’s sincere and mocking at the same time. He’s still by the door, not coming in further like you want him to. He wants you to use your words.
“You said once we were alone..”
“Once we were alone, what? That I’d play with you?” You nod dumbly at his words. He inches closer to you, but still entirely too far away for your liking.
“I want you, Daddy. We only have a little bit before she gets back,” and you know you’re in for it now.
“Oh, is that so? We only have a little time?” Before you can process it, Zeke is hovering above you, a firm hand on your wetness teasing you and making you cry out at the sudden pressure. His hand moves slowly, just barely grazing your clothed clit and you whimper. “Let me tell you something, baby,” he whispers right next to your ear. “I’ll take as much time with you as I want, no matter who else is in this house. You got that?”
You let out a strangled moan at his words, knowing the effect they have on you and the uncomfortable wetness between your legs becoming even more prominent. You could swear that he can see how wet you are, even with your panties still on, and you desperately jerk up onto his hand to get some, any, contact.
“D-daddy, please! I-” you break off into another moan as he rubs your clit firmly. You’re not even sure when he took your panties off, but you can feel two of his fingers prodding at your slit, just waiting as he continues his work.
“Does that feel good, baby? Use your words,” he says, teasing you despite how badly you want him to stop and just be inside you already. Another strange feeling bubbles in your chest, knowing that your mother would be home soon and could be pulling into the driveway right now. You can hardly focus on those thoughts though, letting out a loud squeal when Zeke pushes two fingers into your soaking wetness, stopping at his knuckles.
“Oh god, Daddy, that feels so good, please, please keep going-” the rest of your words disappear as he pushes his thick fingers completely in, marveling at the way you’re so stretched out around them.
“Good girl, baby, you’re doing so well.” You keen at the praise, moaning loudly as he continues fingering you, scissoring his digits inside you and getting you prepared for his cock. He knows he’s on a time limit too, but he’ll be damned if he lets that rush him. No, he needs to take his time with you.
Every time he feels the tightness of your hole, it takes him back to that first time, and he refuses to hurry up.
His thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out quickly, filling the room with a lewd squelching noise, have you seeing stars before long. Every time Zeke touches you, you wonder how you went so long without it. Your own actions when you touch yourself are nothing compared to his anymore. He’s got you so dependent on him, so reliant that you barely want to cum by yourself anymore.
He slows his actions just for a second, just to pull down the front of your sundress and reveal your tits to him. Zeke increases his speed as he latches his mouth around your hardening nipple, flicking with his tongue and taking the pebbled bud between his teeth, tugging slightly and making you cry out as it suddenly becomes too much to handle.
You’re succumbing to the orgasm before you even know it, waves of pleasure washing over your body as the knot in your stomach finally releases and fills your core with heat.
“Good girl, baby, cum for Daddy now,” he says from his place on your chest.
“Daddy! Daddy, I-! Oh!” You know how pathetic you must sound, screaming and moaning helplessly as Zeke doesn’t let up on his actions. You finally put your hand on top of his and make him look up, into your eyes, and press his lips to yours.
A sloppy, hot kiss in the aftermath of your orgasm has you shaking under his grip, entire body feeling hot and sweaty. He pushes his fingers, slick with your wetness, to your lips and you open without any request for him, sucking and rolling your tongue over the digits until they’re all clean.
“Good girl,” he breathes into your neck, whether he places more sloppy kisses. “You ready for Daddy to fuck you?”
You nod meekly, moaning loudly as you feel Zeke align himself with your slit, and letting out a high-pitched squeal when he pushes himself into you entirely. You choke on your breath at the sudden feeling of fullness, completely ignoring the way Zeke’s focus seems to be on something else.
Perfect timing, he thinks to himself, hearing the car pull into the driveway and knowing his dear wife had arrived home. He was too deep inside of you to care, though.
Zeke pulled his hips back slowly, wanting you to feel every inch of him, and then slammed them down harshly. For every motion of his hips, you released a loud, obscene moan, babbling on without making any sense at all as Zeke fucked you.
All you could process were Zeke’s reassuring praises, calling you a good girl as he continued at a brutal pace, fucking you so hard you couldn’t figure out where you stopped and he began.
He picked up the pace and the angle of his cock stretched you out so perfectly, he was hitting against your clit with every thrust and you could swear you were seeing stars again, so close to the edge and screaming out for him, when he clasps a hand over your mouth quickly.
You reacted with a jolt, unsure of why he suddenly silenced you when he placed a kiss right next to your ear, whispering quietly.
“Looks like she’s home. Be quiet for Daddy, okay, baby?” Your eyes widen in panic, flustered with shame and another feeling you can’t put together when Zeke goes back to his quick pace, fucking you rapidly and giving your clit the contact you so desperately needed. You cum again with a stifled, broken noise leaving your mouth and your body jerking up against his, the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth holding you down in place. You feel yourself clench down on his cock, as he rides you through it, thrusting in and out and doing nothing to stop the vulgar noises that fill the room.
You can hear it now—the steps of your mother coming into the house, and probably up the stairs to her office soon enough. Your heavy breathing coupled with Zeke’s grunts are the only sound left as his hips stutter and you feel hot ropes of cum shoot inside you, filling you up. Zeke finally comes to a halt, pressing a kiss to your lips as you hear your mother walk right outside your door, talking to someone on the phone.
Your panicked eyes meet his perfectly calm ones, a devilish smirk playing at his lips as you hear the steps halt and then continue again, walking by your room as though you didn’t even exist.
You release a sigh, Zeke pressing another kiss to you that you return eagerly.
“Good girl. Now clean up while Daddy goes and deals with her.”
You feel suddenly emptier, lighter as Zeke lifts his weight off of you and adjusts his clothes. You sit back up slowly, careful to not make an even bigger mess and ruin your dress, as Zeke grabs your panties off the floor and hands them to you with a smile. You pull them up, fixing your dress and realizing that you need to run a brush through your hair before you see your mother again.
Zeke unlocks the door and leaves with one last smile gracing his face, as you sit up and feel remnants of your encounter inside you.
Moments later, your mother walks by and glances at your open door, which was locked before. She pushes it open, taking a look at you on the bed. You’re certain you look like a mess, hair disheveled and sweat on your body, with limbs feeling like jelly.
“Hi, mom,” you greet, with the most false enthusiasm you can muster. “What is it?” She looks at you coldly, almost as if she knew something was going on and couldn’t quite place it.
“Clean yourself up, honey, Uncle Eren is coming over for the weekend.”
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heroloverangel · 3 years
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Delicate
This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.
“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”
You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view. 
“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.
You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”
He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.
You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.
“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”
You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”
He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”
This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”
“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.
“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.
“SURPRISE!” 
You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”
“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.
“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.
“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.
He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor. 
You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them. 
You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.
You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”
You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.
Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.
He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.
“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”
“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”
“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”
“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.
You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”
His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.
“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.
You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.
“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”
You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”
He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.
You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.
His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.
“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.
His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”
It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean. 
“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”
You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”
He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”
Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”
He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”
“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”
You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”
You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”
He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”
“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.” 
You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.
“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”
You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”
He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”
Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.
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capesandshapes · 3 years
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Didn't You Know? (Post Reveal/Pre Relationship)
Summary:
Marinette is sick and realizes that Adrien has a secret to tell her.
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The music was loud.
Far too loud.
But she knew at the same time that she was drunk, far too drunk; so that might have played a part in it. Adrien sitting at the bar with girls surrounding him—draped on his shoulders and with hands on his knees— might have also played a part in it. Because she’s tired, and sick, and lonely; and he’s there like he always is, waiting to take her home, waiting to take care of her because he feels like it’s his duty.
Because he’s Chat Noir and she’s Ladybug, and he promised one day however many years ago that he would always take care of her. Now she has to live with that. Now she has to live with wanting him, but still not fucking saying it.
And just when her night seems like it can’t get worse, some guy dumps a pint of whiskey on the front of her dress and makes to clean it up, his napkin at the ready to blot it like this totally isn’t some pre-planned thing—
“Oof,” a familiar voice says beside her, placing his sweatshirt around her shoulders before she can even protest and pushing the hands away before the man can try to ‘help’. “Thank you for that, but she’s already taken care of, I think I’m gonna take her home.”
And immediately the guy, some big burly man likely in his thirties, is flinging accusations and acting like he knows everything. “And who are you to do that?” Like he wasn’t just trying to do something awful.
“I’m her husband,” Adrien says, flashing a black and green ring while throwing a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he pulled the two edges of his sweatshirt a little bit closer around her. “Happily married,” he mutters, his eyes softening as they landed on hers and he saw her pull the sweatshirt on to really sell the statement. He leaned forward to zip it up, throwing the man another smile, this one verging on a warning as he placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” the man began, blinking as Adrien made to herd her away.
“It’s fine,” Adrien said, his arm around her shoulders and his eyes staying firmly on her. “She’s going home.” In a stage whisper, he added, “you’re sick, aren’t you sweetheart?”
Which was only half because of the other man and half because she actually was sick, and he wanted an answer.
She had been wondering how long she could keep it from him that night, how long she could last dancing with Alya and accepting only water. Now that he knew who she was, Adrien had a way of seeing through all of her other disguises too. Like her telling herself that she wasn’t sick and trying to act like she wasn’t sick.
Even though a small part of her was afraid she might have caught the flu or been suffering from some sign of overwork…
“I’m going to get your coat,” he said, guiding her near the door.
“Are you also going to go and tell more people that we’re married?” She asked wearily, swaying on her feet.
He laughed, leaving a small kiss on her forehead that almost made her cross her eyes. “I tell everyone I’m married; it keeps them from hitting on me and technically I am…” He raised his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her, “married to the job,” he joked. “I’m taken in more ways than one.”
She wished she didn’t laugh, if only because it encouraged that type of thing. As his friend, she shouldn’t have been happy that he was sitting in clubs with his miraculous on his ring finger, turning away girls who could have been something to him. As his friend, she shouldn’t have raised the sleeve of his sweatshirt to her nose as he walked away, smelling the soft cologne that he’s taken to wearing instead of the Agreste branded stuff.
She really sucked at this whole being his friend thing. More so now than ever.
He reappeared with her jacket, her housekeys in his hand. He didn’t, of course, make any moves to replace the sweatshirt around her shoulders, just another addition to the list of many things that would always make her wonder about where she actually stood with him.
Alya always insisted that he liked her and was just waiting for the right time to say anything, but two years had passed since they’d revealed their identities and Marinette had started to doubt that. If it was more than a childhood crush, he would have told her by now.
Then again, she thought as she watched him wait for their taxi, she hadn’t told him.
***********************************
Adrien unlocked her door and hauled her stuff inside, Marinette following closely behind. He reached around her once she was safely inside, closing the door and locking it.
“I’ll stay on the couch tonight in case you need anything,” he informed her. Adrien was often overbearing when she was sick, a trait that he’d picked up from her once she learned that no one was really around to care for him when the boy was sick. It almost became tradition for the man to sleep in her living room whenever she was ill, another reason why she didn’t want him to know.
It was almost painful how much he cared.
That was the problem with the two of them, someday he would get a girlfriend or she would have another boyfriend, and they would tell him how weird this was, that he cared way too much for the young woman and she cared too far beyond reason for him as well. Then it would end.
She didn’t want it to end.
She wanted a thousand different things in her life, like to start her own fashion line and see the world, but she didn’t want Adrien to leave her.
She was in love with Chat Noir. How long? She couldn’t tell you. Before the reveal, probably. Before she knew that he shared those green eyes with the other guy who made her chest feel heavy and her breathing weak.
“You should shower,” Adrien said. “Are you hungry? We didn’t go out to eat this time.”
“I had a microwave meal.”
“You didn’t eat then,” Adrien proclaimed, marching into her kitchen. Ever since he learned how to cook one summer at Nino’s grandparents, he was a storm in the kitchen. He made food for her whenever he could, always watching her closely for her reaction to that first bite. It reminded her of her father in a way, that excitement to watch her experience new things and know that he was responsible.
She sighed, lumbering into the kitchen on exhausted legs and wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face into it and murmuring her thanks. “I love you,” she mumbled, such a common phrase from her that it always just slipped out.
“I love you too,” he stated, his hands wrapping around hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “You can put on a new one of my sweatshirts when you get out of the shower,” he said, because eventually she had started a whole collection of them without thinking about it.
She nodded, bending over to remove her high heels before traveling further into the apartment. He was already at her feet by the time she’d managed to overcome dizziness and bend over, beginning the process of unbuckling her heels and tossing them aside.
She blinked at him, feeling his soft blond hair brush against her leg and immediately giving into the urge to touch it. Her hand wove through the back of his hair and he pressed a small kiss to her leg as he finished the last shoe, tossing them aside. “There,” he said, smiling up at her.
She really hoped he thought she was red from the fever.
Freed from her shoes, she felt the world blink in and out as she stumbled to her bathroom, turning the shower on cold to combat her fever despite her body’s pleas not to. She practically fell into the shower and she knew that he heard, rushing to the door as quick as possible. “I’m fine,” she called before he could so much as knock, blinking at the mixture of shampoos and soaps before her. When would she finally make room for Adrien to have his own shelf? She shook her head, tempted as always to see if there was some magic in his fifty-dollar shampoo, but settling for her strawberry-scented one instead. Adrien had teased her the last time she’d used anything on his recommendation.
Finally clean, she emerged from the bathroom, walking the short distance in her towel before ending up in her room. “It’s almost done,” Adrien said from the kitchen as she pulled on a pair of joggers and one of his old sweatshirts, pulling her hair into a sad attempt of a bun.
Deeming herself close enough to presentable, she moved back into the kitchen, steadying herself on the wall when he noticed her and his face broke into a smile.
“You didn’t have any chicken stock, so I made leek soup,” he said, gesturing to the bowls, one for her, one for him.
She nodded, grabbing the bowl and moving to the living room, scooting too close into his side when he settled on the couch beside her, flicking on the tv. He threw on the show they’d been watching recently, a bad soap opera about werewolves that had the sets falling apart around them. She let out the softest yawn when the theme music began, sinking further and further into him until he finally finished his food, placing his arm around her.
“When is she finally going to realize that he’s in love with her,” she grumbled. “I mean, they’re dating, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know,” Adrien said, pulling the empty bowl from her lap and pulling her on top of him, the two laying together as the show continued to play. His eyebrows furrowed, concern for the characters showing on his face, “I mean, she has stuff at his place and everything.”
That didn’t mean anything, Marinette had things at Adrien’s place. She had more than one drawer, a whole closet even. “I mean, he said he’s in love with her, right?”
“Yeah,” Adrien agreed. “And they go practically everywhere together, people invite them as a couple.”
“And he sends her all these texts every day of things that she’s into!” Marinette complained. “I don’t know much about love, but that seems like it’s part of it.”
“Mhm,” Adrien agreed, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the recipes the other day, by the way.”
“No problem—” she began, and then stopped, her eyes sliding over to him. He still watched the tv with the same expression, not even giving what he’d done a second thought.
“I think he’s finally about to say it,” Adrien stated with a frown. “It’s taken long enough.”
But Marinette couldn’t focus on the show at all. All she could do was stare at him. “You almost kissed me,” she marveled.
He cast her a questioning look, looking over at her just slightly before turning back to the tv. “Do you want me to fully kiss you, or?”
Marinette straightened, using her forearms to jerk back from him, her eyes wide.
He blinked, turning around to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Marinette?”
“You kissed me,” she repeated, deciding at the corner was good enough and reaching to touch her mouth with her hand almost absentmindedly, tumbling against his chest in the process.
“Yes?” He said, peeling her off him to look him in the eyes. “I mean, that’s what people do when they’re dating—”
Her mouth fell open.
“Marinette..?”
“We’re dating?!” She yelled, her eyes wild.
He immediately flattened against the couch, looking almost as shocked at the statement as she was. “Marinette, I have stuff at your apartment, you have stuff at mine. I cook for you, we have shows. We watched all of Naruto together. You tell me you love me every day, and I say it back.”
“But that’s—We—” She floundered, almost falling off the couch.
Adrien’s hand caught her. “Marinette, be careful, you have a fever—”
“How long?” She asked, slumping into his hand. “We haven’t even kissed—”
“To be fair, we have kissed plenty of times before and I just assumed—”
“How. Long.” She repeated, and she could see the pure terror grow in his eyes.
“Two weeks?” He said, quickly explaining, “I mean, I sent you that long text about how much I liked you and you sent me back that you would be lucky to be my girlfriend, any girl would—”
She gasped, almost falling backward this time before his hands plastered themselves to the small of her back, the young man sitting up beneath her.
“Marinette?!”
“You’re my boyfriend,” she said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned.
“But you tell people that you’re married—”
“As a private joke,” he corrected. “I also tell people that I’m taken, not as a joke.” His hands pulled back from her, his voice almost unsure as he asked, “do you not want to be?”
“Of course, I want to be,” she squeaked. “I mean, that’s like asking someone if they want to be rich, or have a room full of puppies, or cure cancer—”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.
“It’s just that I didn’t know,” she finished. “I haven’t even kissed you. And now I’m sick and I have this boyfriend here to take care of me, and he’s going to sleep on the couch…” Marinette struggled to list everything else wrong.
Adrien didn’t give her a chance.
No, instead he grabbed the side of her face and pulled her down, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, inarguable kiss.
“Well, I don’t have to sleep on the couch…” he said as he pulled away.
259 notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Note
okay but here me out: you're a prostitute hired by laurie bc she found out that andy is cheating on her and needs proof for a divorce. when you see him, the payment is merely a bonus
wait i love this but i wanna modify it slighty: you’re a private investigator hired by laurie to seduce andy to prove he’s cheating!
this got so nasty so fast omg watch out for really dominating andy, with lots of dirty talk and a little bit of manipulation if you wanna read into it
“you don’t have to go through with it, obviously,” she explained, “you just need to get him to admit he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.  on tape, with this.”
she set the audio recorder down in front of you, and you smiled sympathetically.
“don’t worry, ma’am, this isn’t my first time with a case like this.  I have my own equipment that’s less conspicuous and more reliable.  I could even catch him on film if you wanted.”
“you can do that?”
“yep, I have cameras that look like pens, buttons, rings, earrings, glasses...”
“well, video footage would be even better,” she explained, excited yet somber.  “I mean, it would make a better case in the divorce.  it would kill me to have to watch it, though...” she trailed off, scratching the back of her neck.
“is there any doubt in your mind he’s cheating on you?”
“only because I don’t want to believe it.  but it’s become to obvious to ignore,” she shook her head.
“I understand.  it’s hard to stomach that the people we care about most would hurt us like that.  but sadly it is all too common.  let’s just say that as a private investigator, this is a huge portion of what I do... and I get very steady work.  you’re not alone, laurie.”
“thank you,” she smiled weakly. “can you do it tonight?  I want this over with.”
“um, as long as it’s pretty late, I have other tasks this evening.”
“oh, late shouldn’t be a problem, he’s out until 4 or 5 in the morning these days.  this is the address of his work--” she set a piece of paper in front of you-- “just follow him to whatever bar he goes to from there and you shouldn’t have a problem.”
she’d shown you a photo, so you knew what to expect.  you had to come straight from your last assignment following somebody else around the city, so you weren’t dressed for the occasion at all.  to follow someone, you needed to dress plain and forgettable; to seduce someone, especially someone like andy barber, you needed to be extremely memorable.
you brought a change of clothes in your car, which you hastily slipped into in your back seat-- it required some acrobats to put tights on in the back of a small car like yours, but you managed to get through.
not just tights, but lingerie and garters.  sky high heels, a skintight dress that made you feel like your whole body was on display.  a motorcycle jacket and dark lipstick to give the whole look some edge.  basically, you’d tried to look as different from his wife as possible.  married men who were fucking around on the side always wanted something different, something fresh.  you knew how to do that.
plus, the jacket had the hidden camera attached to the lapel, nearly invisible among the snaps and buttons.
the echo of your heels on the concrete floor of the bar made every head turn.  it was quiet, and apparently a pretty slow night with only a few men scattered here and there-- the only other woman was the waitress.
andy was sitting at the bar, nursing a beer, and he gave you a quick glance before doing a double take.  you tried not to smile visibly. gotcha.
you sauntered up to the bar, leaning forward and making sure to arch your back just so, showing off your ass. “vodka cranberry?” you requested, smiling when the bartender nodded and started pouring grey goose into a glass.
you took a seat decently far away from andy, “adjusting” your jacket to turn the camera on.  you wanted to make sure you caught him coming up to you, starting the conversation, flirting first.  he looked over at you a few times but never said anything, making you start to get a little impatient, before finally the bartender arrived with a second drink.
“from the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he explained as he handed it to you.
“oh!” you smiled, “that’s so sweet!  you can tell him to come say hi if he wants.”
and it was just a few minutes before andy got up and leaned against the bar beside you, looking down at you with dark, half-lidded eyes.
“thanks for the drink,” you grinned coyly, letting your gaze drift a bit.  he was really good looking, honestly, and he looked all kinds of right in that suit, too.  if it weren’t a job, this might be the kind of guy you would actually flirt with of your own accord.  then again, you knew better than to go for a guy who had a tan line on his ring finger-- you hoped the camera was able to see that he’d taken his wedding band off.
“I’m here almost every night and I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m from out of town,” you explained.
“business or pleasure?” he asked with a little smirk.
“I guess we’ll find out,” you winked.
it didn’t take much more flirting and a few more rounds of drinks for him to ask if you wanted to ‘get outta here,’ and with a giggle and a nod you let him guide you to his car with a hand on the small of your back. 
of course, you thought he was going to drive the both of you somewhere.  you didn’t expect him to push you up against it and kiss you roughly.
it was so sudden, and you knew you should stop him, but you somehow couldnt bring yourself to push him back, not when the way he was breathing heavily against you made your head spin, not when you could feel his beard and it was so hot for no good reason at all, not when his thick hands were grabbing you at your waist just tight enough to make you breathless.
“get in the back,” he instructed when he pulled back, making you blink up at him in shock.  you knew you had enough, you knew you should make an excuse and leave, get this footage uploaded from your mini cam and onto your laptop so you could get laurie what she needed...
but instead you found yourself biting your lip and nodding, letting him open the door for you and hopping in before he climbed on top of you, shutting and locking the door.
“we can go back to my place,” you offered as he started to suck on your neck, pulling you closer.  
“cant wait that long,” he mumbled quickly before helping you push your jacket off.
and you could tell that the way he tossed it onto the floor made the camera perfectly angled to see what he was doing to you.  maybe it was the perfect evidence for laurie’s case.  maybe it was about to tape you in your most intimate state with no way for you to stop it.
certainly there was no way you could stop when he manhandled you onto your hands and knees, pushing your dress up to find your black lace panties, and the garters holding up your tights.
“fuck, look at you... that’s why you came out tonight, then?  to get fucked?”
you nodded a little, gasping when he slapped your ass.
“little whore.”
you didn’t think you’d like being talked to like that, but it made your pussy throb beneath the lingerie that barely covered it.
just when you thought he was going to give it some attention, he flipped you around again and pulled you into his lap. 
“get on the floor, on your knees, and suck my cock.”
how was he so comfortable telling you what to do?  better yet, why were you doing it?
you slipped down, barely finding enough room with your massive heels in the way, and started to palm at his cock through his suit trousers, moaning absent-mindedly when you felt the thick, hard, hot length hidden beneath.   your mouth was already watering.
you started on his belt, looking up at him occasionally to find him watching you with a cold, unyielding stare.  when you reached inside his boxers and pulled it out, he smiled at your little gasp.
“bigger than you expected?” he taunted.  you were speechless, only able to nod in response before he put a hand on your hair-- not exactly forcing you forward, but definitely encouraging you to go ahead and put it in your mouth.
“fuuuck,” he groaned with you licked the head and finally closed your lips around it, suckling gently as your eyes fluttered shut.  “no no,” he correctly instantly, “look up at me with those pretty eyes, sweetheart.  take it deeper.”
you moaned around him but obeyed, using your hand to stroke the portion you couldn’t fit in your mouth (which was more than half).  you started to back away when you choked a little, but he pushed you back down and moaned a little louder, “I like it when you gag,” he explained gruffly, smiling when you looked up at him again, your eyes watering this time.  “god, you look so good like this.”
he pulled you off by your hair while you took in a gasping breath, gripping his cock at the base and slapping you lightly on the face with it a few times.  when you put your chin by his balls, the head hit you on the forehead... it made your gut burn as you tried to imagine how that would possibly fit in you without breaking something important.
when he pulled you back onto him, bucking up into your throat as you choked and gasped for air, you felt need tingling up your spine from seeing him like this.  he was completely in control and yet looked totally wrecked as he fucked your face.  it made you so wet you couldn't stand it.
just when you thought he might come, he stopped suddenly and lifted you up onto his lap, pulling your dress down to admire your completely impractical bra.
he grinned when he saw your nipples were already hard, reaching up to tweak them gently until your hips rocked on top of him of their own accord.
“you like having your tits played with, sweetheart?”
“I like when you do it,” you blurted out.
“sweet young thing like you, you’ve probably never even been with somebody who knows what they’re doing.”
it’s not like you hadn’t had some adept partners in the past, but none of them were like this. nobody had ever made you this desperate.
“please fuck me, andy,” you whimpered.
“not yet,” he growled, ripping your bra and tossing it aside.
“that was expens--” you started to protest, but it fell into a moan as he latched his lips onto an exposed nipple, sucking and licking eagerly.
“f-fuck!” you stammered, gripping his jacket tightly as you tried to stop yourself from humping his leg out of desperation
but he wanted you to-- he grabbed your hips and pulled you down, guiding you to rub yourself on his thigh.
“go ahead, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it.”
you were pretty confident that even through your panties, you were going to leave a stain on his trousers. 
you could even feel his cock on the inside of your thigh, hot and still slick with your spit, so hard you wondered why he wouldn't just put it in you already.
“please please please, need it so bad,” you whined, “I'm so wet for you, baby, I'm so fucking ready....”
“I know,” he whispered, pulling you closer to put his lips right beside your ear.  “I know, baby, I can feel it.  I can smell it.  you smell so fuckin sweet...”
you whimpered and your head fell back, pleasure shooting up through your body in jolts as you rubbed your swollen clit on his thick thigh.
“want me to fuck you?  I’ll fuck you, babydoll.  hard and rough just how you need it.”
“yes,” you sobbed.
“I’ll give it to you so good you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow, won’t be able to sit right cause I tore that pretty little pussy up.”
you gasped but you wanted it, god you wanted it so fucking bad you couldn’t even remember that this was supposed to be a job, not a hook-up.  but you didn’t care.  
“please baby, I’ll do anything just fuck me, please--” you cried, cut off by him grabbing you and pushing you onto your knees again, slapping your ass one more time before pulling your panties aside.
“god, you’re soaked,” he chuckled condescendingly. “you’re so sensitive, honey.  I bet you’ll go crazy if I touch you here,” he proposed, rubbing his thumb over your clit and making you jolt forward from the intensity of it.  
he leaned down to wrap his body over yours, holding you close with one arm around your neck as he whispered in your ear, turning your face slightly with a hand on your jaw.
“look into the camera while I put it in you, baby...”
you weren’t sure if it was realizing you’d been caught, or the feeling of him pushing into you that made your eyes water, but a tear fell down your cheek as he buried himself into you with a groan.  it was just the right type of pain; with how wet you were, even a cock as massive as his slid into you easily.  but it felt like you’d never been stretched so wide and you didn’t even know what to do with yourself as he pulled back and slammed into you.
“I never told you my name,” he reminded you, “but you knew it anyways.  and with what I do for a living, I can smell a p.i. from a mile away.  you’re not as slick as you think, sweetheart-- well, proverbially slick... cause literally, this pussy is so fucking wet for me.” 
you could only gasp and sigh as he pumped into you faster and deeper, reaching parts of you that had never been touched before, let alone ravaged like this.  you could feel his smile against your ear as he started to fuck you faster, his free hand palming at your breasts before reaching back to hold your hips steady.
“god, you’re so fucking tight... anybody ever fucked you this good, honey?  anybody ever taken you like the needy little slut you are?”
he bit down on your ear and you realized he wanted an answer.
“n-no,” you replied, “never.  nobody’s ever fucked me like this, andy.”
“anybody ever fucked you on camera before?”
you swallowed dryly. “no.”
“was it all an act, then?  all part of the job?  I don’t buy it.  I think this is who you really are, a desperate little slut who needs to be stuffed full of cock by somebody who can give you everything you need.”
his filthy monologue fell on deaf ears as you tried with all your might to look away from the camera on your jacket, knowing that you had totally blown your case as well as presumably destroying your reputation.  fucking a married man is one thing, fucking a married man whose wife is your client who hired to prove he was cheating?  maybe you could spin it as doing your job a little too well?
“I can tell you’re close, sweetheart, go ahead and come for me.  I wanna feel this pretty pussy squeeze me, milk my fuckin cock when you come.”
mainly you were just trying not to get too loud, afraid that the car wouldn’t be enough to muffle your noises in case somebody walked through the mostly empty parking lot.
“andy!” you yelped when you reached your peak, not really meaning to but it came out anyways, he chuckled a little, the sound morphing into a growl as you clenched down around him with each wave of pleasure washing over you.
“fuck, don’t fuckin stop, this pussy feels so good I think I’m gonna come inside...”
you were too out of it to protest; you would’ve gone limp and fallen down onto your chest if he hadn’t held you up, his cock flexing against your overstimulated walls as he painted your insides with his come.
he grinned as he stilled his movements, catching his breath for a moment before sitting up and pulling out, slipping your panties back on to keep his come inside for a bit longer.
it was all a blur as he helped you half-redress before he all but shoved you out of the car, stuffing his cock back into his pants before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
“tell my wife I said ‘hi’,” he winked at you as he drove off, leaving you with wobbly legs balancing on your heels while his come leaking down your thighs.
899 notes · View notes
geekwritersworld · 3 years
Text
Always
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pairing: Henry cavill x reader(she/her)
warning: angst, a little fluff 
summary: Henry helps you out when a crew member tries to make a move on you.
A/n: do let me know what you think☺
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It was a rare occurrence for the couple to be spotted in public. In fact it was so rare of an occurrence that the media often wondered if Henry and y/n had called it quits.
Despite them being married for almost 3 years, the rumors that spread were never confirmed nor addressed publicly by neither Henry nor Y/n.
She had made it clear to him that she preferred if they're relationship was kept under the radar, except the few occasional and exceptional appearances.
She knew his fans would come at her, but she wouldn't let that keep her from him. She loved him, and she'd go through it for him.
He'd heartily complied when she told him this, because his wife's safety, privacy and happiness were his biggest priority.
Henry knew, of course, that his 'fans' or so they claimed, would make his wife’s life miserable, whether it was by sending her threats on the internet, creating websites solely for bullying her, or even, as it had now occurred twice , physically harassing her.
And he knew of course that they weren't his fans if they couldn't respect his privacy and his wife. They were just immature people with too much time on hand.
The people who knew about their marriage were the ones who needed to know. But that didn't mean that Henry didn't occasionally tease and drop hints about the fact that he was very much in love and married.
"Is this where they filmed the scene with you and Joey at the tavern?" she pointed at the set, that had been set up to look like a tavern.
"Yes" he chuckled looking at her in awe, her eyes widening as she took in the huge set built around her.
She didn't usually come with him to set, the last time that she had was when he'd filmed MI6. Today however he invited her to come along with him, since he was only filming for a few hours today. When on any other day he’d be filming the entire day.
She agreed and joined him, considering that it would be easier since they'd decided to go to the beach after, and that way he wouldn’t have to make the unnecessary hour drive back home.
"Sweetheart, I've got to go and get into Geralt’s outfit, will you be alright on your own?" he slipped his arms around her waist.
Causing a few of the crew members to chuckle, since they weren’t surprised that the star couldn’t keep his hands off of her for long, given how much he'd talk about her.
"Mhm" she hugged him back, before he let go and left, heading to his trailer.
She’d decided to wander around outside, near the trailers, while they filmed inside. They were almost done anyway and she didn’t want to get into anyone’s way.
The crew was quite welcoming and y/n had no trouble getting a long with them. Anya and her hit it off especially well, laughing at a few of the crews surprised looks, since it was assumed that they wouldn't get along, considering that Anya and Henry had sex scenes together.
It wasn't a concerning issue since Y/n trusted Henry, and knew he wouldn't do anything, and she trusted Anya as well. Plus she was an extremely interesting person to converse with.
The crew and cast that Henry worked with, over the last few years, including the Witcher, were the only ones who'd known of Henry being married for sure, though they’d never publicly addressed it, considering it wasn't the publics business, but the crew found out about her and Henry because he'd end up mentioning his wife a couple of times. Which seemed inevitable since he'd worked with them for almost over a year now.
Walking around while the sun began to set, the orange, and soft shade of blue and pink starting to set over the sky as the wind grew slightly stronger.
Hearing footsteps approaching her from behind, she assumed it was her husband and didn't turn around and instead waited for him to hold her from behind as he normally did when she didn’t turn his was way.
"You must be the Y/n we've heard so much about" definitely not her man.
"I am" she turned and offered a polite smile.
Y/n recognized the man, having seen him working with the microphones inside, so she knew he was part of the tech crew.
"I've heard so much bout you " he walked closer to her, which was completely unnecessary.
Call it intuition or even a hunch, but Y/n had a feeling that he didn't have the purest intentions.
"Well, I certainly hope Henry's said good things "she forced a smile, indirectly telling him she was taken and to back off. Looking around she backed away a little. But she was the only one here behind the trailers.
"Oh he has" he leaned in closer, and inched his hand around her waist.
Beginning to feel uncomfortable and uneasy, her heart beat slowly picked up pace.
"Excuse me, get off of me" Y/n shoved his hand off. Or at least tried to.
"I can't possibly let a sweet looking thing like you slip right through my hands now can I?"
Y/n could feel his breath on her face now.
She kneed him in the crotch, clearly hurting his ego as well as his dick.
"Bitch" he lunged forward, grabbing her elbow, his free hand grabbed Y/n’s face, the tight and roughness was sure to leave bruises.
She raised her hands towards his chest, putting both her hands open palm first, she shoved him as hard as she could. The force and shove all concentrated in one place caused him to fall backwards on the floor, the wind knocked out of him.
He tried to get back up and grab her leg but she saw it coming and lifted her leg and hit him in the side. 
Y/n could hear quick approaching footsteps behind her, and took a step away from the creep and turned sideways, and saw Henry run up towards her.
“what the fuck happened" he eyed the guy on floor groaning in pain.
“He got too fucking touchy and close, so I did what I had to” y/n said pushing the hair off of her face and looked up at Henry.
“are you alright?” he looked, concerned, while tracing the bruises on his wife’s face with his thumb, the anger rising inside him.
“yeah, of course” 
“Alright but holy shit, I’m so proud of you for that” Henry gave me  a small smirk and smile, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Henry turned and looked at y/n, he loved that she could protect herself and didn’t hesitate to do so when she needed to.
If it wasn’t for the fact that his wife had already taken care of the creep, he would have given the man a good few blows in the face.
He didn’t know he could feel anymore proud of her than he did then. He glanced back at the man who was still sitting on the floor, clutching his side and groaning, and gave a low laugh. 
Making a mental note to go and get security to deal with the tech, he led y/n towards the door and kissed her forehead. 
439 notes · View notes
alrightberries · 3 years
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honey, honey (how you thrill me)
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request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!
request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!
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❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack.  ❈ word count: 4.6k
❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.
❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex
a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)
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Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.
Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.
Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.
His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.
The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.
But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.
So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.
“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”
“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”
“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”
“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”
“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.
“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“
“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”
Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”
“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.
“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”
Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“
“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.
“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”
“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”
“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”
Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.
“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.
The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.
“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”
Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.
It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.
He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”
Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“
“They’re not!”
“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.
He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?
Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.
“Deal me in.”
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The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.
Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.
You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”
Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”
That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.
You smile. “Thanks.”
The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)
Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.
Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.
But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.
Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.
“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.
“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly. 
He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.
“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.
Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”
You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”
“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”
“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”
Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.
They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.
“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”
Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.
You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”
“I know.”
Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.
“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”
“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”
You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”
The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.
Something was up.
It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.
“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.
Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”
“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.
Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.
“Use this for now.”
You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”
He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.
Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.
“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“
“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.
“How long have you and Y/N been dating?”
Ah. So that’s what it was about.
Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”
“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“
“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.
“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”
She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.
“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.
Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”
Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”
“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”
“Where I caught you having sex?”
“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”
“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”
“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”
“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”
“It’s easier to keep track of.”
“Damn it, Levi!”
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Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.
You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.
“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”
He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.
You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.
“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.
“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.
“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.
Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—
“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”
“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.
“They curse more than I do.”
“Still.”
He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.
“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.
“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”
As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—
“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”
“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Gladly.”
The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.
Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.
“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”
You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?
You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”
“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.
As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“
“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.
You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”
He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.
“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.
“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.
“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”
The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—
“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.
Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”
The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.
A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.
“Hey.” Levi greets.
“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”
“...yeah.”
He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.
From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.
“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.
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Something was wrong.
If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.
It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.
The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.
Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.
“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.
“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”
Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”
Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.” 
She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”
“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”
“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.
“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”
“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all. 
“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.
“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”
The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”
You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”
“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness. 
“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”
“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”
The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands. 
Finally, he has enough.
“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.” 
He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”
“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.
“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”
Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.
“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”
At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.
“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”
If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”
Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”
“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”
You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”
“Dogs.” Levi corrects.
“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”
“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”
Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”
“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”
The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.
“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.
“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.” 
He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.
“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”
Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”
“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”
He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.
“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”
He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”
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ray-ray-writings · 3 years
Text
A Dedicated and Domesticated Pig-Technoblade
This is a Technoblade x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! For the sake of this story, we’re going to say that once new L’manberg was built and Tubbo became president no other war happened. They rebuilt and the nation was happy and prosperous. 
This is the fourth and probably final part of the Dedicated Series! I honestly cannot believe how much you guys love this series! Thank you guys so much for all of your support! As I said, this is probably the final part because I don’t really know how this could go even further, but who knows. Maybe one of you will have a killer idea that I can’t turn down. But I just wanted to say thank you all again so so much for the overwhelming support that you guys continue to give me. I love you all so much… Anyway on with the story. 
Part One. Part Two. Part Three. 
Masterlist here
Everything comes full circle when Y/N and their family travel to L’Manberg for the annual festival. 
Y/N’s POV
I let out a groan as the sunlight that peered through our window hit my closed eyes, arousing me from my slumber. I knew I should have sprung for those blackout curtains when I had the chance. I huffed and rolled over, my hand searching the other side of the bed for the lump that was my husband. My brow furrowed when no such lump was found, instead a cool spot laid where my husband usually rests. “Babe?” I croaked out, my eyes peeling open to confirm my thoughts. I slowly sat up and pushed the blankets off of me, looking around the room and still not seeing him there. I closely listened for a moment, thinking that maybe he had decided to take an early morning shower, no such sound. 
Stretching my arms up, I swung my legs out of the blankets and onto the floor before standing up, my back cracking ever so slightly at the stretch. I slowly made my way out of the bedroom and throughout the house. I was about to check in the other room, when noise from the kitchen captured my attention. 
Walking into the kitchen, I found the most adorable domestic sight I’ve seen in a while. There, in front of the stove, stood Technoblade with our 4 year old daughter Philippa on his hip. “You want to flip this pancake together?” I heard Techno muttered softly, his head turning to look at her. Her curly pink hair bobbed up and down as she agreed. “Okay. Grab here on my hand and we’ll flip on three.” Her tiny hand reached out and wrapped around Techno’s much larger one. “You ready? One, two, three!” Techno cheered before flipping the pancake. The breakfast food splatted down onto the pan causing Techno to let out a ‘whoo’ before leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to our daughter’s forehead. “You did so well baby! You should help me make breakfast more often, I think you’re a better cook than your Baba,” He announced, throwing me under the bus. It was then I decided to make my presence known, 
“You burn the potatoes one time,” I teased, causing Techno to slightly jump and turn around allowing me to see my beautiful family’s faces. “Baba!” Philippa cheered, reaching out and making grabby hands to me. I grinned and moved forward, taking our daughter from my husband’s arms. “Hey baby, sleep well?” I asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaning up and kissing my husband. She matched my grin and nodded her head. “Yeah. I had a good dream and I went into your room to tell you about it. Daddy was already awake so he said we could make you breakfast while I told him my dream.” Pip rambled out, reaching out to play with my messy hair. I hummed and looked over to my pink headed husband for confirmation, “Is that so?” 
Techno wasn’t looking at me, rather his pancake pan, but the smile on his face confirmed Philippa’s story. “Yeah, we were going to bring you breakfast in bed but you decided to get out of bed,” he teased, bumping his hip against mine. I simply rolled my eyes and bumped his hip back, “I got cold without you beside me. So in a way it’s kind of your fault,” I teased back, poking at his hip with the hand that wasn’t holding Pip. Techno only smiled and shook his head. 
“You want to go sit at the table? This is the last pancake and I figured I can serve you and Pip at the table if you won’t let me serve you in bed.” My cheeks flushed at his sweetness. Even after all these years, he still knows how to make me shy. I gave Techno’s cheek a quick kiss before moving to the table. I set Philippa down in her normal seat before moving to my own. It didn’t take Techno too long to walk over to the table, balancing three plates in his arms. He set my plate down in front of me first before placing one in front of Pip and then in front of his own seat. Philippa wasted no time, she immediately began eating her breakfast, her small colorful fork shoving the pancake into her mouth.
 Before he sat down, Techno leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. Once he pulled back, I sighed in contentment, “Thank you,” I stated with a grin before turning to my own plate. Techno chuckled as he sat next to me, “for the food or the kiss?” “Both.” 
“What are we doing today Baba?” Philippa asked, her face somehow covered in sticky syrup. “Today’s L’Manberg’s Autumn Festival, remember sweetheart? We’re going to Papa Phil’s house and then we’re going to go to the festival,” I reminded her gently, reaching over and gently wiping the syrup from her cheeks. Philippa gasped in excitement as her eyes lit up at the reminder, “We’re going to see Papa Phil?” She questioned. I chuckled at her excitement, “Yes baby. And we’ll also see Uncle Will, Uncle Tommy, Uncle Tubbo. We’ll see everyone.” “Papa Phil!” She cheered aloud, completely ignoring my addition. But I couldn’t blame her. Those two have been obsessed with each other since they met. After all, we named her for him. Techno chuckle caused my attention to shift. His eyes met mine as we smiled at each other, “Papa Phil!” He cheered causing me to giggle. “Papa Phil!” 
*Little Time Skip*
“Come on Tech! We’re going to be late!” I called into the house from the front door. “We’re coming! We’re coming!” Techno called from somewhere in the house causing me to giggle and roll my eyes. People always assume that it’s me that causes our family to be late, but it’s almost always Techno and Philippa. 
After a few more minutes of waiting, Techno finally appeared with a bundled up Philippa on his hip. Once Techno and I got married and we started thinking about starting a family, we discussed the idea of building a new home. The one we had was very nice, but it was in the middle of a tundra with all of our family thousands of blocks away in L’Manberg. So we moved a lot closer to the country, but still far enough away to have our privacy. We found a cute snowy biome that was perfect. It had that comforting feel of the snow that Techno so desired in his ‘retirement’ but it wasn’t as cold as the tundra and of course, wasn’t as far. So we still had to bundle up everytime we left, but we didn’t have to stay in those clothes long. 
The three of us walked out to our stables to get on our horses, Carl Jr. and Wendy. Techno helped me mount my horse before handing me Philippa and getting on his own. I made sure Pip was safe and secure in front of me before gathering my reins and getting Wendy to begin walking. 
It only took about 20 minutes before we could see L’Manberg. We quickly made our way to Philza’s house, bringing Carl Jr. and Wendy to the open back yard to let them roam freely while we were here. Techno jumped off of Carl, walking over and taking Pip before helping me down as well. Techno let Philippa down and when he stood back up, I reached up and gave him a sweet ‘thank you’ kiss. 
As soon as her legs touched the ground, Pip bolted for the back door entrance of her grandfather’s house. “Papa Phil! Papa Phil!” She cried as her little legs carried her to the house. Techno and I followed behind her as she grew nearer. “What is all this commotion out here?” Philza called teasingly as he swung the door open. “Papa Phil!” Philippa practically screamed, attaching herself to his calves as her arms wrapped around them tightly. “Woah!! Philippa! My sweet girl! It’s so good to see you!” He called, prying the little girl from his leg, raising her up in his arms before wrapping her in a tight hug.
I could feel my heart melting at the interaction happening in front of us. Philza was so happy when we announced Philippa, he was even more happy when we announced her name. That was the most tears I have ever seen Philza cry. He didn’t even cry that much at Techno and I’s wedding, and that day was full of crying. He’s the best grandfather to her. He adores her and she adores him. They’re the absolute cutest. 
“Hey kids!” Philza finally greeted us after giving his full attention to his granddaughter. “Hey dadza,” we chimed in response. I carefully hugged Philza, careful not to crush Philippa before moving aside to let Techno do the same. The four of us moved further into the house, to the living room to be exact. “Are you excited for the festival today?” Philza questioned the little girl that remained in his arms. Philippa’s curls bounced once more as she nodded excitedly, “Yep, I get to see you Papa Phil!” She cheered. The smile on Phil’s face widened as he threw his head back and laughed, “Yes you do sweetheart, but you also get to see your Uncles and you get to play games and eat fun foods,” Philza explained, trying to get a different answer from her. Philippa nodded once more, “Yes. and I get to see you!” She cheered once more. I could tell the comment really made Philza’s heart warm. Small tears pricked in the corner of his eyes at well as her sweetness. “And I get to see you Pip!” 
*Time Skip*
The four of us left Phil’s house to go to the festival at noon. The streets were decorated with brightly colored ribbons and many booths were set up with games, food, and merch type things. The sight really reminded me of the first L’Manberg festival that happened six years ago, the one where Techno asked me to be his partner.
We arrived at the main area to be greeted by everyone, and I mean everyone. Immediately Philippa was picked up from beside Philza and tossed in the air by her eldest uncle, Wilbur. “There’s my most adorable niece,” He cheered over her squeals and giggles. Due to Wilbur’s actions, all of the attention was on us. Instantly, we were swarmed by our friends, giving us, well mostly me, hugs and grins. Philippa was passed around from uncle to uncle to aunt, everyone cooing over just how much she’d grown since the last time we’d been here. 
“You think we’ll get her back anytime soon?” Techno asked, his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me close to his side. I let out a laugh as I let my own arm wrap around him as well. “With this lot? Heck no.” Techno chuckled at my response but nodded, “Yeah, didn’t think so.” 
Once we finally got our daughter back, we made our way to the game booths. First up, the dunk tank. It was the same dunk tank from 6 years ago, but it was still in great shape. Tubbo was first, he got dunked a few times. I mean who wouldn’t want to dunk their president? Following him was Tommy, Niki, Quackity, and many more. “Techno, you want in on this?” Someone called from beside the dunk tank. I turned to Techno with a bright grin and nudged his shoulder, “Yeah Techno, you want in on that?” Techno playfully glared at me at the teasing tone. Before he could respond though, Philippa spoke up, “Daddy going in the dunk tank? YAY!” Techno was never able to deny his daughter. He let out a sigh before handing me Pip and making his way to the tank. “You two are evil,” Philza chimed from beside me, grabbing one of Pip’s tiny hands and waving it back and forth. I shrugged and chuckled, “Maybe. But it’s pretty funny either way.” 
Techno begrudgingly climbed into the dunk tank, glaring at me when he sat on the seat. I simply gave him a sweet smile and a wave. Everyone eagerly lined up to try and dunk my pink headed husband now that they weren’t terrified of him like they were many years ago. Unfortunately, everyone missed, literally not a single one hit, not even the one I threw after I set Pip down. I turned around in disappointment to find Phil leaning down and whispering something in Pip’s ear. Her little eyes were wide with excitement as she grinned and nodded at whatever her grandfather was telling her. 
Once Philza stood back up, Philippa ran to the dunk tank. I was about to run after me, when Philza’s hand on my shoulder stopped me from moving. “Trust me. Just watch,” Philza whispered behind me. Philippa stopped beside the dunk tank, next to the button that would sink her father. “Hello Daddy!” Philippa exclaimed, waving frantically at Techno who was still sitting in the tank. “Hello Pip… What are you doing?” He asked, an eyebrow raised toward his daughter. “Dunking you!” She cheered before she reached up and pressed her small hand into the button causing the seat to collapse under my husband and dunk him into the cold water below him. 
Philippa let out an excited squeal as her father was submerged and she ran back to Phil and I was a bright grin on her lips. “I did it Papa! I did what you told me!” Phil let out a loud laugh and picked up his granddaughter and pressed a big kiss to her cheek, “Yes you did. You did so well sweetheart.” Philippa giggled and cuddled herself closer to Phil. I reached over and ran my hand through her hair and kissed her cheek as well, “Baba is very proud of you lovely,” I announced causing her to giggle once more. “Is that so?” The monotone voice of my husband called from behind me. I whipped around and found a soaking wet Techno, his wet pink hair hanging in his face. I grinned as I scanned him up and down before meeting his eyes, “Yeah, it is,” I claimed, crossing my arms across my chest. 
We stared at each other in silence for a moment before Techno’s face broke out in a grin as he took a small step forward, “You know what I have to do now babe.” The memory of what happened the last time this happened flashed into my mind. Oh god. I took a small step backwards toward Phil and Pip, “Hey now, you really don’t have to do this Techno,” I stated nervously. The grin on his lips curled even bigger, “Oh but I do,” Techno announced. 
Before I even had time to think, Techno launched himself forward and wrapped his dripping wet arms around me, burying his soaked face into my neck causing me to get wet as well. “Technoooo!” I whined out, trying to push him off of me, but he didn’t budge. “Y/NNNNN” He mocked, squeezing his arms tighter around my waist. I let out a sigh before giving into the hug and wrapping my arms around him. “You’re lucky I love you,” I grumbled into his shoulder. Techno chuckled, “I know.” 
We played games and ate junk food until the sun went down. Philippa was having a great time at the festival. Everyone had a soft spot for her and let her win every game she wanted to play. She got to eat all the sweets that she wanted. We never let her eat like this at home but because it was a special occasion, Techno and I agreed to let ourselves…. pig out for once… Pun sort of intended. 
Soon it was dark and we all gathered together in the L’Manberg square. The air buzzed with excitement as we all waited with anticipation at what was to come. Techno and I stood side by side, with him holding Philippa up between us, one of my arms resting on her lower back the other wrapped around Techno’s waist. “Beloved Citizens and Friends of L’Manberg,” Tubbo called from the podium, drawing all of our attention to him, “I’d like to take this time to thank you all for gathering here for our 6th annual L’Manberg festival. We hope you’ve had a wonderful time. Here’s to more prosperous years to come. Let the show begin!” He finished, throwing his hands in the air.
Immediately fireworks flew up into the sky behind him and exploded into a beautiful array of shimmering colors. Philippa’s hands moved to cover her ears at the loud noise, but her eyes remained trained on the sky. We all watched in amazement as the fireworks exploded in the sky. I felt Techno’s arm pull me in closer to his side and his head tilt down to kiss the side of my head. I pulled my eyes from the sky and turned to look at him. A soft smile was planted on his face when our eyes met. 
“Do you remember our first date?” He asked quietly as to not draw attention to us. I smiled and gave a small nod, “Of course. How could I forget, especially since it was six years ago today,” I teased giving him a small wink. Techno chuckled, “That’s true. Just, watching these fireworks really have me thinking about one of the best days of my life.” Blood rushed to my cheeks at his sweet words. “You’re too sweet. I think you’ve gone soft,” I teased my husband, knowing full well he had. Techno’s eyes left mine and slowly wandered and settled on Philippa that was still staring in wonder up in the sky. 
“Yeah. I have. I’ve been shown love. I have two, three counting Phil, who love me unconditionally. This morning I was woken up by this sweet little girl who has my hair and your eyes. Before I met you, I would have never thought that days like this… No, a life like this would be possible. I was feared and hated before I met you, and you didn’t show any ounce of fear or hate… Well, maybe dislike because I got yoke all over you… That’s besides the point. 
“The point is, if someone had told me seven years ago that one day I would be here, standing in an open field watching fireworks with my spouse and my daughter, I would have laughed in their face and then killed them without hesitation. I mean, you saw how I chased Wilbur around when he even brought it up when we first met. You’ve changed my life, Y/N. You’ve given me everything I’ve never thought possible. You’ve given me a real family of my own. People that I can take care of, protect, and be dedicated to until the day I die. But also people that I’m willing to drop everything to cook a meal for or clean the house for… You’ve made me a dedicated and domesticated pig. And I will be that, until my last breath.” 
Nothing could stop the tears that had begun to flow down my cheeks. Techno’s beautiful speech had made me cry. That jerk. “You’re my everything Tech. You’ve given more that I could have ever hoped for in this life. I am so completely and utterly dedicated to you. All those years ago when I saw your name pop up on my right arm, I would have never in a million years guessed that this is where the two of us would end up. Together, side by side, with a beautiful daughter between us. Thank you, for everything.” 
Our lips met in a passionate kiss. Everything felt so right in the world. The two of us, standing here in the spot of our first date, on the anniversary of our first date, with our daughter in our arms who��s currently enthralled in the firework show happening above. It was so right. 
“Ewwww!” Philippa squealed, causing us to break apart, “Baba and Dada kissing!!” She squealed once more, making a face of disgust. Techno and I exchanged a quick glance. “Oh yeah, you think kisses are gross?” I teased, leaning me head forward toward her just a little bit. She frantically nodded, looking between both of us. “Well then you definitely won’t like this!” Techno called. The two of us immediately dove our faces into Philippa’s and began pressing short little peck’s all over her face and her neck making the ‘Mwah!’ sound as loud as we could. Pip began to giggle and squeal loudly as we kissed her. I could tell we had gathered the eyes of the crowd because I could hear people cooing as we loved up our daughter. 
“Still think kisses are gross?” I questioned once we pulled our faces away from Pip’s. She quickly shook her head, before puckering her lips and giving each of our cheeks kisses. “Spread kisses?” She asked, pointing to her Papa Phil who stood just a few feet away from us. I glanced at Techno who just shrugged at me before leading us over to his father. 
“Papa Phil!” Pip cheered, reaching out of our arms toward her grandfather. “Well hey there Pip! Did you enjoy the show?” He asked, accepting her into his arms. “Mhm!! Now kisses!” Before Phil could respond, Pip had begun placing tiny kisses all over the side of Phil’s face. “Spread kisses!” She exclaimed once she was done. “Thank you Pip, I appreciate that. Do you want to go spread kisses to your aunts and uncles?” Philippa’s pink hair bobbed up and down and so Philza walked away from the two of us to the next unsuspecting target. 
As I watched, I felt Techno lean down and press a sweet kiss to the side of my head. “We did good huh?” My eyes left my daughter’s figure as I turned to look at him with a wide grin. “Yeah, we did my domesticated pig.” My eyes left his and found Philippa now in Wilbur’s arms, planting kisses all over his face. “We really did.” 
There you go! I really really hope you enjoyed. I absolutely loved writing this piece and just this whole series in general. It’s like my little baby and I really really hope you guys love it even just half as much as I do. Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me! Please remember to like, reply, or even reblog if you did enjoy.
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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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Cape Cod Confessions - Kevin Hayes
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a/n: this one hit me outta nowhere and I blame my Philly loves @broadstbroskis and @princessphilly for enabling me 😉😘 (jk you know I adore you.) writing this one actually made writing feel fun again. I'm grateful for that. also hey, I'm writing for Kevin Hayes now! keep that in mind for the next prompt list lol.
warnings: I think just swearing. also heads up, this is an OC. I like them and I ain't sorry.
word count: 4.4K+
_____
The familiar scene in the yard of Kate’s parents’ summer home on Cape Cod would normally fill her with contentment and peace, as all her family and closest, lifelong friends were gathered together in celebration. Her brother was marrying his college sweetheart in twenty-four hours, and Kate had every reason to be happy.
Today, though, after not being part of such an occasion for many months due to work obligations back in Seattle, Kate felt strange pangs of guilt and discomfort. Days like today made her wonder why she had ever left Boston in the first place.
And seeing her childhood best friend Kevin manning the grill, his nieces and nephews hanging from his long limbs as he promised them he would play with them as soon as the food was finished, made her wonder why she had ever left him in the first place.
How she had ever left him in the first place.
Kate was still lost in her own thoughts when, from across the lawn, she heard a shrill scream, followed by an ecstatic, “Auntie Kate!”
Her goddaughter Neila’s voice was unmistakable, and Kate set her purse on the grass just in time to catch Neila on her running jump, all the way from her Uncle Kevin straight into Kate’s arms. Pure joy flooded Kate’s soul as she caught Neila, giggling, and held the little girl to her chest.
“My beautiful Nene!” Kate exclaimed, kissing her cheek. “I missed you!”
Neila pulled back, pushing her hair away from her face. “I missed you, too,” she said sincerely before throwing her arms around Kate’s neck again.
A moment later, Neila wriggled out of Kate’s hold and turned toward the crowd of family and friends on the patio.
“Auntie Kate is here!” Neila announced, eliciting chuckles from the adults. Except for one — Kevin, whose eyes had already been glued to Kate since his niece’s initial squeal upon discovering her arrival. He’d turned his back on the grill to find his niece holding onto Kate’s hands and hopping backwards in an effort to pull her to join the party on the patio.
Kevin looked on as Kate threw her head back in laughter, and he felt the sort of distinct happiness that he only found when Kate was near. He couldn’t stop staring, mesmerized by how radiant she looked in her lilac sundress, with her curls thrown over her shoulders… that is, he couldn’t stop staring until his brother clapped him hard on the shoulder.
“Steaks are gonna burn, Kev,” Jimmy said loudly in order to bring Kevin back down to earth. Kevin simply nodded and turned back to the grill. Jimmy’s eyes traveled to where Kate stood reuniting with her immediate family, and a soft smile found his lips.
“She looks beautiful, no?” Jimmy spoke into Kevin’s ear, more softly this time. He was always more than willing to publicly embarrass his little brother when it came to an array of subjects. But Kate wasn’t one of them. Jimmy wouldn’t dare.
Kevin only nodded, again. Jimmy squeezed his shoulder, then scooped up his little son in his arms and headed to see his old friend.
Kate’s parents, her older brother Patrick, and his fiancée Joelle had just finished taking turns greeting her with hugs when, over her brother’s shoulder, she spotted Jimmy carrying Beau.
“Baby Beau!” Kate gasped, holding out her hands as Beau smiled and reached out for her. “Who let you get this big?!” she questioned as she took him in her arms. He simply giggled and laid his head on her shoulder.
“Hello, Kathleen Paige,” Jimmy greeted, using her full name as he had for Kate’s entire life, no matter how much she had hated the Irish moniker as a young kid.
“Hi, J,” she replied fondly, leaning in so that he could wrap her in a hug and plant a kiss to her forehead. “Your boy is getting way too big,” she told him, tickling Beau’s belly and making him laugh.
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy said. “How are you? You look great.”
Kate glanced downward, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“Thanks. I’m okay,” she replied uncharacteristically dryly, switching Beau to her other arm. “It’s good to be home,” she added without elaboration.
Jimmy nodded in understanding.
“It’s good to have you home,” he agreed, then tilted his head toward the house. “Kristen’s inside. She can’t wait to see you.”
Kate beamed at the mention of Jimmy’s wife, one of her closest friends for years now.
“I can’t wait, either,” she said, just as Beau reached back toward his dad, making them both laugh. “Here, take your mini me. I’m gonna go finish my rounds,” she told him as her eyes flickered in search of the younger Hayes brother.
Jimmy retrieved his son and smirked down at her, his own eyes dancing.
“You do that,” he encouraged, teasing in his tone.
Kate rolled her eyes, but, just as Jimmy had anticipated, she headed straight toward the barbecue next, passing at least a dozen other people who had been waiting to see her.
“Hey, grill master,” she said, her hand gently coming to rest on Kevin’s back.
Her touch took him by surprise, and he nearly fumbled the tongs in his hands as he turned to greet her, his tall frame towering over hers.
“Hey, Katie girl,” he spoke, and Kate realized just how much she had missed that voice speaking those very words. She could only grin like an idiot.
Kevin pulled Kate in, his arms crushing her against his chest, and she hugged his waist as she felt his heartbeat against her ear.
“Missed you,” she said simply.
“Missed you, too, Kate,” Kevin said, his voice rumbling against her cheek. She pulled back to look up at him with a relieved sigh as he grinned at her.
And in that moment, she finally felt some of the contentment and peace she’d been searching for.
_____
Hours later, after the cookout lunch and the rehearsal dinner, when the attention-commanding nieces and nephews had long been put to bed, Kevin found Kate where he’d always found her on summer nights at the Cape — down at the boathouse, her feet dangling above the water, her short stature prohibiting them from actually being submerged.
“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he found himself saying — immediately followed by an internal monologue of, God, Kevin, why are you so fucking lame?
Despite his pathetic attempt at humor, Kate still smiled up at him.
“I knew you’d find me eventually,” she replied, letting her gaze drift back across the water.
Kevin hummed in response as he set down the pair of beers he’d brought and took a seat on the dock beside her.
“I’m surprised you’re not with the girls,” Kevin said. “They’re up there poppin’ bottles in the kitchen.”
She laughed softly at the thought. “Nah, just needed some time to think,” she told him.
Kevin nodded, knowing not to press any further if Kate wasn’t feeling forthcoming.
“Well, I come bearing beers,” he said, offering her one of the bottles.
With a grateful sigh, she murmured a “thank you,” and accepted the cold beverage. And that was just another item that fell somewhere in the middle of the long list of reasons why Kevin adored her — because she never needed champagne or an apple martini or a Mai Tai. A beer that matched his always suited her just fine.
Kevin was smiling at the thought, and when Kate caught him, he quickly saved face by lifting his bottle in the air.
“A toast,” he announced. “To Pat and Joelle.”
She nodded, lifting her beer toward his. “To Pat and Joelle,” she echoed, clinking the neck of her bottle against his. “Cheers.”
Kate took a long pull, looking back across the cape, and after a few silent moments, Kevin casually reached for her ankles and swept her legs atop his lap, his free hand resting on her shin. It certainly wasn’t anything unusual — anyone who knew Kate and Kevin and their relationship knew that they had always been affectionate with one another. (So much so, in fact, that on many occasions, Jimmy had muttered, “Jesus Christ, just fuck already.”) But it had been so long since he had initiated such a gesture that Kate would have been lying if she said her breath didn’t catch in her throat a little.
She sniffed and made work of picking at the label on her bottle, trying to act as cool and collected as possible.
“You look great, Katie,” Kevin eventually piped up, interrupting the silence and making Kate feel somehow more nervous and more at ease all at once. She tucked her chin to her chest with a breathy chuckle. “I mean it,” he added earnestly. “I should’ve said it before, but… anyway, just wanted to tell you now.”
She tilted her head up to look at him, and Kevin had to remind himself to breathe as she shot him her famous pursed-lipped smile, pushed to one side of her mouth.
“Thanks, Kev,” Kate said softly. “You do, too.”
“How’s work?” he asked, assuming that he’d be posing a simple, run-of-the-mill question, one that might lighten the mood and give his heart rate a chance to slow a bit.
But Kate snorted, lowering her bottle from her lips after a swig. “What work?” she asked cynically.
Kevin’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, confused.
She cleared her throat, turning to face the full moon instead of him. “The magazine shut down,” she finally admitted. “It’s been almost a month now, I guess.”
And for once in his life, Kevin was speechless.
Kate had started working for the small, independently-owned Pacific Northwest tourism magazine five years ago — the publication was the whole reason she’d moved to Seattle in the first place. She was so proud of her photography that was featured in each issue, and so was Kevin — though Kate didn’t know it, he had subscribed to the magazine after her first photo was featured in an issue early in her time on staff. And since the monthly magazines were mailed to his place in Philly and not in Dorchester, he realized that he would have had no way of knowing about the shutdown if it weren’t for Kate directly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kevin asked gently, concern evident in his tone.
She shrugged. “Not something I really felt like talking about this weekend,” she replied, rubbing her hands along her upper arms to warm them from the cool ocean breeze. “Not necessarily something I was all that proud of.”
Kevin’s heart sank. “But it isn’t your fault, Kate,” he said, squeezing her calves. “You didn’t have any control over the magazine going under.”
She heaved a sigh. “I know, but…” she began, tipping her head back wearily, “it just feels like everything’s crashing down around me in Seattle. Half a dozen of my friends have moved away in the last year, my freelance clients are dwindling seemingly by the day because everybody and their mother think they can be their own photographer, and now the magazine’s gone. It just feels like I’m failing at everything, Kev. Failing at life.”
“Hey,” Kevin said firmly — immediately. He nudged her chin with his thumb so that she was looking straight at him, those sea blue eyes of his suddenly the only thing she could focus on, as all of her self-doubt was washed away, even before he continued to speak. “You are not failing. You’re 28 years old. This is just a part of growing up, Kate,” he assured. “This shit happens to everyone. Remember when I got shipped to Winnipeg and then to Philly so quick? I went through the same shit. I felt like nobody wanted me, like I couldn’t do anything right. But it got better. It always does, Katie. Especially for people with as good a heart as you.”
Kate sniffled, wiping at a lone stray tear with her knuckle.
“Thanks, Kev,” she said softly, followed by a few more quiet sniffles. “You’re the best. Reasons why I love you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Kevin’s brows lifted and his eyes widened as he looked at her, wondering if he’d just heard her correctly.
As with the physical touch, it had always been this way with Kate and Kevin when it came to their long-simmering feelings for one another. One of them would slip up and say some shit like “I love you” or “you’re so hot” or “come home with me,” and then try to play it off or walk it back, while the other person was left reeling, unsure of whether or not the other had truly meant what they’d said.
“I mean, you know, like I—”
“I love you, too, Kate,” Kevin said without hesitation, not walking anything back, interrupting Kate’s hopeless stuttering.
She glanced at him, taking a few chugging sips of her beer, and shook her head.
“No, you don’t,” she asserted flatly. “You’ve had a lot to drink. So have I. It’s a wedding weekend and we’re—”
“No, Kate,” Kevin insisted. “I mean it. I-I love you.”
And Kate suddenly felt really dizzy, like, really dizzy, and not because of the alcohol or the day she’d spent in the sweltering July sun. Dizzy like her best friend since diapers had just fully admitted that he love loved her in a manner far more sincere and more convincing than all those other times before.
“I… I gotta go to bed, Kev. Big day tomorrow,” Kate said abruptly. She drew a deep breath, swung her legs out from beneath Kevin’s hold, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pushing herself up from the dock and heading for the steps. “‘Night.”
_____
“You did what?!” Jimmy asked on the golf course the next morning, coughing as he nearly choked, not because of his cigar smoke, but due to pure shock upon hearing his brother’s declaration.
“I told her I loved her,” Kevin said. “And she told me I was just drunk, and I told her I wasn’t, and then she went back to the house.”
“I think I need to lie down,” said Keith Yandle, Kate and Kevin’s mutual lifelong family friend, as he dramatically took a seat in the golf cart.
Jimmy stood slack-jawed in front of Kevin, waiting for more.
“And?!” he finally prompted.
Kevin shrugged. “And I haven’t talked to her all morning,” he said, earning groans from Jimmy, Keith, and Noel Acciari, another longtime member of the crew. “But I don’t regret it. And I’m bringing it up again tonight.”
“At her brother’s wedding? What, are you nuts?” Jimmy accused.
“No, that’s perfect,” Keith bellowed. “You know how girls get about weddings. All gooey and shit. Just get her a couple drinks at the reception. She’ll cop to loving your sorry ass, too. We all know she does. This has only been about three decades in the making.”
Kevin hated to admit it, but Keith was right, and he knew that Jimmy knew it, too, as Jimmy stood with his hands on his hips, sighing as he exhaled cigar smoke.
“Alright, fine,” Jimmy said, putting his hands up and rounding the golf cart to take the driver’s seat. “That’s not your worst idea ever, Yands. And you know what, Kev? I’m proud of ya. I wasn’t sure ya had it in ya.”
Kevin let out a singular chuckle and adjusted his golf hat.
“Neither was I.”
_____
“He said what?!” Kristen said loudly from the makeup chair as Kevin’s sister Justine squealed in the hair chair next to Kate’s.
“He told me he loved me,” Kate replied incredulously, still not convinced that last night was anything more than some fever dream. “Like, actually loved me. And I didn’t say it back. Because I’m an asshole.”
“No, you’re not,” Kristen assured firmly as Justine waved Kate off. “He caught you off guard, that’s all. You’ll have plenty of time this weekend to make it up to him,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.
Justine flung out an arm and squeezed Kate’s elbow.
“Wait, are you gonna say it back?” she asked in a sharp whisper.
Kate just pursed her lips, smiling crookedly.
_____
“Jesus fuck,” Kevin muttered as Kate walked into the narthex of the church to be lined up for the walk down the aisle. Noel elbowed him in the ribs.
“We’re in a church, bud,” Noel muttered. “You’re gonna get struck down, and I’m gonna be standing next to you when it happens.”
Kevin barely heard him as he watched Kate approach her brother, who let out a “wow” at her appearance and pulled her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Wow was putting it lightly. Her hair was left long and curled, save for a few pieces pinned back from her face, and she donned an elegant, v-neck, pale blue bridesmaid dress that appeared to have been designed just for her. Her makeup, though simple, was flawless, accentuating her strong features, making her hazel eyes, in particular, impossible not to notice.
Kevin had never seen Kate look more stunning in all his life. And that was saying something.
Kate turned toward the groomsmen next, her eyes immediately locking with Kevin’s, despite Jimmy’s wolf whistle and Noel’s “damn, Katie.”
She shot them both an eyeroll before refocusing on Kevin.
“Hi,” she said dumbly.
“Hi,” Kevin repeated. “You look beautiful, Kate. Perfect.”
There was that pushed-to-one-side, pouted-lip smile that made Kevin’s pulse race.
“Thanks, Kev,” she replied. “You look really handsome.”
Kevin gave her a grateful smile, then took a step closer to her.
“Can we talk later?” he asked, softly enough that he hoped no one else could hear and then subsequently give him shit for asking such a middle school question. His breath against her ear sent shivers through Kate, and his low tone made her mouth go dry.
She nodded, looking up at him doe-eyed and unable to form a single word. He nodded, too, and before she knew it, he was reaching for her hand, brushing a soft kiss against the top of it, and giving it a quick squeeze.
Kate didn’t have a chance to overanalyze his actions because the wedding planner quickly marched through the group, announcing that Patrick and his groomsmen needed to make their way to the altar for the start of the ceremony. Kate stepped forward to pull her older brother in for one last hug and a few whispered sentiments, then she smiled shyly at Kevin, smoothing her hand over his lapel as she passed, unaware of the knowing smile that Jimmy and Kristen shared watching the two of them.
_____
Back at her parents’ house for the reception, Kate was well on her way to a hangover for her flight back to Seattle tomorrow. Naturally, she’d been seated next to Kevin at the head table, and though the two of them hadn’t yet found time for an actual conversation, they each knew it was coming, which only increased the number of trips they’d both already made to the open bar.
After the meal, Pat and Joelle were invited to the dance floor in the middle of the yard, beneath twinkling string lights and the glow of the moon, and the strains of “Marry Me” by Train came over the sound system, filling the salty air with the peaceful guitar melody.
Kate’s jaw dropped just slightly, but enough for Kevin to take notice.
“That asshole,” she whispered.
Kevin held back a laugh at her reaction to this significant, romantic moment in her brother’s life.
“What?” he asked quietly.
“This is my wedding song,” she told Kevin incredulously, putting her hand to her chest. “I’ve said that since I was, like, in middle school. He knows that.”
Kevin wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or how breathtaking Kate looked or the feelings he’d long been pushing down finally bubbling over, now that he had let his little confession slip last night, but he suddenly heard himself say, “We can use it, too. Nobody’ll remember by then.”
Kate stiffened in her chair and snapped her head toward him.
“What?” it was her turn to whisper.
“Oh, come on, Kate,” Kevin said, sipping his whiskey casually. “Let’s not kid ourselves. That’ll be us up there someday.”
And there was that goddamn smile of hers again — Kevin knew she was trying so hard not to pull a full-on, megawatt grin, which was fine by him because he was perfectly happy with this version. Preferred it, actually.
She cleared her throat and shook her head.
“Don’t hold your breath, Kev,” Kate replied lightheartedly. But her tone was… less than convincing, some might say. Even less convincing was the way she almost imperceptibly leaned closer toward Kevin, whose arm rested loosely around the back of her chair.
And at that, Kevin smiled into his glass.
_____
Somehow, even in the midst of her own brother’s lively wedding reception, Kate still found her way to the boathouse. Kevin hadn’t even bothered to look for her elsewhere — once he noticed that she’d disappeared from the dance floor, he grabbed two Boston Lagers from the bar and headed for the dock.
She smirked when she heard his footsteps.
“Want some company?” he asked on his way down the wooden steps.
“Only if it’s you,” she replied, the flirtation evident in her tone.
Kevin smiled, pleased with that answer, and took his familiar spot next to her.
“Nice day, huh?” he asked, again pulling her legs across his lap before nudging the second beer into her hand.
“Really was,” Kate replied, clinking her bottle against Kevin’s for yet another toast.
They sat wordlessly for a few minutes, staring out at the water, listening to the laughs and chatter and music from the party up in the yard.
Eventually, Kevin cleared his throat, drawing Kate’s attention.
“Listen, Kate, about last night,” he began, but Kate’s anxiety spurred her to interrupt.
“No, it’s okay, Kev,” she said, shaking her head quickly. “You don’t have to explain—”
“No, I do,” Kevin insisted. “I-I don’t know if you’re getting it.”
She frowned. “Getting what?”
Kevin opened his mouth, looking into her eyes, then closed it again with a humorless chuckle.
“I meant it,” he finally said. “I said I loved you. And I meant it.”
Kate couldn’t break from his gaze despite the flipping sensation in her stomach, and despite the warmth creeping up her neck. The intensity of his stare was foreign to her — she was so used to happy, joking, jovial Kev, who never took anything too seriously. Even his earlier comment about their supposed future wedding reception had been tinged with sarcasm.
There was no ounce of him that was kidding now. That much Kate could see.
“You’re perfect for me, Kate,” Kevin continued. “You always have been.”
She blinked, tucking her loose waves behind her ear.
“Kev, I—”
“Wait, wait,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head before taking a long pull from his beer. “Listen, you gotta let me finish, because it took me this long to get this far. Okay?”
She nodded. He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on hers.
“I love you, Kate,” Kevin said. “I love you in the worst way. The most real way. Not just some fleeting, fling-type shit. I mean, I want it all with you. Everything. The whole fuckin’ thing. Ring, wedding, babies in little ‘13’ jerseys. Nice house, a dog. Picket fuckin’ fence. I want what our parents have. And our siblings. You’re the only person I wanna share that with. Ever.”
Kate was crying now, blissfully unfazed that her mascara tears might stain her pretty makeup. Though, they didn’t, because before they could, Kevin’s thumbs had wiped them away, and after rubbing his fingers together, he smoothed his thumbs along her cheekbones.
“And I’ve always known it,” he continued. “But it took you going away and coming back for me to work up the balls to say it.”
Kate hadn’t flinched this whole time, Kevin noticed. In fact, her eyes grew brighter and her soft smile a bit more noticeable with each word he had spoken. But she had yet to utter a word. He studied her in anticipation.
“You gotta say something, Katie girl,” he said nervously. “I’m dyin’ here.”
But there was little left for her to say, she realized, and so instead, she leaned in, cupped Kevin’s neatly-bearded cheeks in her hands, and kissed him like she had never kissed a single soul before. And Kevin kissed her back, his relief evident in his tender touch, in the way he exhaled softly against her mouth.
As soon as Kate pulled her lips from his, hers curled into a breathless smile, and she leaned her forehead against his.
“I love you, too, Kevin Hayes,” she whispered, her fingers combing through the hair at the back of his head. “I’ve loved you since forever.”
“Be with me,” Kevin blurted, as if he actually needed to. “Like, officially. I wanna do this with you.”
She nuzzled her nose against his and circled her arms around his neck.
“Oh, we’re doin’ this,” Kate told him, beaming. She pressed a kiss between his brows and whispered, “Can’t get rid of me now.”
_____
Three summers later, in her parents’ yard on the Cape, Kate twirled around the dance floor to “Marry Me” by Train with a tall, reddish-brown-haired, blue-eyed boy from Dorchester, the very one she had loved since she was a little girl, long before she even fully understood what love was.
But now, Kate knew exactly what love was, because she knew Kevin.
Her newly dubbed husband leaned down to speak softly into her ear as her song continued to play.
“Remember that night we finally got together, when Pat and Joelle had their first dance here?” Kevin asked. “And I told you, ‘someday it’ll be us up there,’ and you told me not to hold my breath?”
Kate hid her face in his chest and felt her face warm, chuckling bashfully. Her recoiling only caused Kevin to hold her tighter and press a kiss to the top of her head. His thumb and forefinger found her chin and angled her face toward his.
“I’m glad I held my breath, Katie girl,” he said, his voice low.
Kate nodded, her eyes damp with unfallen tears. “I’m glad you did, too, Kev,” she said.
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honey-boyyoongi · 3 years
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Pairing ➪ Y/n x Yoongi | Y/n x Jungkook
Word count ➪ 3.1k
Warning ➪ not beta read; angst; I am sorry in advance
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Jungkook has been laying on your lap for what seems, hours. You haven’t spoken to him in a year, maybe a little more. A ‘hi’ here and there when Mrs. Jeon invites you, and Yoongi to events. You can never say no to her. Slowly, you start noticing Sooyoung showed up less, and less. Jungkook always gave the excuses, ‘She’s not feeling well’, ‘Sooyoung has a work project she has to get done’, ‘Her friend is having a baby, and she’s the birthing partner’, ‘She’s housesitting for her brother’. They never seemed to stop. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon were understanding, but visibly disappointed. As far as everyone knew, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. Your mother told you it was about children. Jungkook wanted children, but Sooyoung was not sure if she ever wanted to be a mother. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting children, and not wanting the commitment of it. But they wanted different things.
What Jungkook never told his parents was how messy it was. The harsh words, the long nights, large amounts of tears shed on both ends, and the feelings of failure. Jungkook wanted to make it work. He wants to believe Sooyoung wanted to make it work. Within the week Sooyoung had moved into her co-worker’s place, at the end of the month the papers were signed, by four months the divorce was final, and Sooyoung had accepted a transfer to a sister location across the country. It was fine for a while, at least Jungkook tried to convince himself it was fine. The days felt long, dreary.
He tried to get back into painting, boxing, and other hobbies he had pre-Sooyoung. He started hanging out with friends more, Namjoon was more than happy to catch up over some beers from his favorite brewery. He even started talking to Yoongi more. They were work partners, regardless of that, their chatter never went past the needed communication to complete the necessary work. Jungkook started slowly, asking Yoongi if he wanted a coffee while he got his own. Inviting him to lunch with Namjoon. Even making jokes here, and there. It’s not what it was before, but they’re getting there.
He moved out of the apartment that him, and Sooyoung shared. It was difficult, but he’ll make this new space home. It’s definitely smaller than his previous apartment. Cozier, he wants to say. Jungkook fills it up with art that had been put in storage, his salvaged knick knacks, pictures with his friends and family. His parents gift him new kitchenware. His older brother helps paint. Namjoon gives him some new plants to care for, and Yoongi comes over to assemble some furniture because ‘you need the help kid’. A few weeks post-divorce, he feels good, normal. He’s out with his mom at the mall when he finally sees her.
He wants to say she’s more beautiful than he remembers, but all he can focus on is the bump she has. His mom catches his line of sight, “Oh, look at my Yn-ie. She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He nods in response. “She’s eight months now, Mrs. Min says it’s a girl. They’re so excited, Hyeri says Yoonie has been talking non-stop about the baby,” his mother chatters. She talks his ear off about the Min baby. The name, the nursery, heck even the baby shower the moms threw as a surprise. He’s happy for her, for them. He ignores the ache in his chest the rest of the outing.
His mother, bless her heart, goes up to Y/n. Asks how she’s doing, how baby min is doing. “Surprisingly energetic,” she jokes, “Yoongi says she gets it from him, but this is the same man that knocks out if he gets comfortable enough on anything.”
While his mom is chatting Y/n up, he takes her in. She cut her hair to a lob, waves a little more defined. Her smile lines are a little more prevalent. Eyes sparkling, a bit tired looking, the baby must be giving her a hard time if it’s kicking up a storm in there. She rubs her belly in comforting motions, as she talks with his mom. He can’t help admiring her features.
“What do you think, kookie?”
Jungkook stared at his mother, and Y/n, “I’m sorry what?”
His mother sighed, “He’s been like this for a bit, sweetie. Nothing sweetheart.”
They keep chatting about the baby. He tells his mom he has to finish his errands. She waves him away with a ‘be careful’ and ‘love you’. Y/n waves goodbye with a shy look. They walk slowly to the nearest bench, his mother’s hands waving around as she speaks.
He doesn’t know how he gets to Y/n’s house. One drink turned into three then six and a half. All doubles, of course. The bartender could tell he was drowning his sorrows, and promptly cut him off as he was ordering his seventh drink, but instead of a double a triple. His angel of a bartender helped him order an Uber to the nearest place he could remember. Once he arrived at the apartment complex, he made the very unsteady way to Yoongi’s and Y/n’s apartment. He knocked on the door heavily. It felt like a long time until Y/n answered.
She looked so pretty. In her cute little pj’s, belly accentuated by the soft material. Her cheeks a little rosy from the effort of walking at this point in her pregnancy.
Surprise filled her face, “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”
He pouts, swaying a bit as he tries to find his footing, “I.. I miss you. It’s been hard these last few months without you.”
“Are you drunk,” Y/n asks worried.
Jungkook hiccups in response, “In my defense, the nice bartender lady cut me off.” Y/n sighs, she could call Mrs. Jeon to come get Jungkook. But she doesn’t want her to see him this inebriated. The feelings of the divorce probably caught up with him and were too overwhelming. Y/n doesn’t know what to do, but decides to take care of Jungkook like she used to.
Y/n takes his hand, and gently guides him to the large side of the L-shape couch. She avoids putting any of Jungkook’s weight on herself while gently, as gently as she can place a drunk man, sitting him. She coaxes Jungkook to slowly drink a full glass of water to sober up, with little difficulty thank goodness. After a moment or two of adjustment on the couch that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, Y/n settles next to Jungkook. It would be better to be closer to him, as to avoid the unavoidable struggle that movement seems to have these days.
Jungkook must be finding it difficult to sit upright, as he ends up laying down. Feet dangling on the edge, head on the available part of your lap, his face looking away from your belly. He starts to hum quietly, nothing specific really, it’s calming.
“Can you pet my hair, please,” Jungkook mumbles. Y/n nods, “Sure. Your hair has gotten long, I like it. It suits you.”
Jungkook slurs, “Thanks, Sooyoung hated it long. Said it made me look messy.” She hummed in distaste, “She also hated anything that wasn’t to her liking. I’ve missed you too Kook. It’s been weird not having you around.”
He snuggles deeper into her lap finding comfort in her warmth, “I know. You don't know how much I’ve been wanting to call you, and just tell you all the things that happened.”
Y/n nudges Jungkook up, she settles more comfortably into her spot and nudges Jungkook back down. He decides he’s no longer satisfied with looking at the wall in front of him, and with the most grace he can muster he turns to face Y/n’s belly. If he was sober enough he could’ve seen the pink rising in her ears. He grabs her hand and places it back on his head to keep receiving his favorite head scratches. Maybe it’s the whiskey, but he feels like he’s having a staring contest with Y/n’s belly. He’s strangely okay with that, until he feels the (surprisingly) hard kick of baby min on his cheek.
Jungkook lets out a groan, and follows it up with an antagonistic soft poke at the spot the kick came from. “Your kid isn’t even here yet and it’s already bullying me,” he sighs. “You’re supposed to be nice to your elders,” he tells her. Y/n giggles, “She’s a kicker. Sometimes she’ll wake me up in the middle of the night. I don’t know where she got this energy from. My mother in law says her boys weren’t too rowdy, and mom says I wasn't a kicker, but more of a crier. So that’s something to look forward to.”
Jungkook laughs, he wants to say she still is. He looks up at her, “Is it okay if I touch your belly?” Y/n is a little shocked. The few times he’s seen her, he’s never mentioned anything about her pregnancy. She wants to question him, but decides against it. She gives him a soft nod, and guides his hand to her belly. “Be gentle,” Y/n tells him.
Jungkook moves his hand in small, soft circles. Making quiet noises of contentment. A few minutes of silence pass by with no words exchanged. It feels comfortable, even a little nostalgic to how things were pre-marriages. “Kids,” Jungkook says.
“What?” Y/n asks.
“We divorced over kids,” he says more firmly, “Sooyoung wasn’t sure if she wanted kids. You already know I wanted them. We couldn’t come to an agreement of when we would start trying. She wanted to wait because she was up for a promotion at work, and she didn’t want to pass it up by staying home with the kids. I told her I was okay being at home with them, the good thing about my job is that I can work from home, if needed. I could be the stay at home dad, be part time until we were comfortable enough to put them in daycare and go back to full time. She said she’d think about it.”
He sniffles, and buries his face into Y/n’s belly. She starts to caress his hair to comfort him, “It’s okay, take your time.”
Jungkook sniffled a bit more, rubbing little circles on her belly with his thumb, “She said we would talk more about it. A little before you got married we talked about it again, but she kept saying she can’t do her job and be pregnant. I told her she wouldn’t do it herself, I would help her. We were a unit. She refused to talk about it after that. Any time I wanted to have a talk about it, it turned into something bigger and ugly. A few months ago I mentioned that mom had told me you were pregnant.” He paused for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to go on. Y/n kept playing with his hair, encouraging him to speak when he’s comfortable.
“I made a comment..,” Jungkook mumbles, “I made a comment about how I couldn’t wait for our kids to be running around together. Sooyoung got angry. She said that would never happen. I asked her why, you were still my friend, so is Yoongi. Why wouldn’t I want our kids to be friends too?”
Y/n hummed, not sure how to react to Sooyoung’s statement. “Is that what started the argument?”
He nodded, “Yeah. I got upset, I told her that she can’t keep avoiding my friends, I missed you guys and wanted to be how we were. I wanted you to, at least, be amicable. I didn’t expect her to be best friends with you guys.” Jungkook got quiet once again. He could feel baby Min moving. He wanted to feel what he’s missing these past several months.
“So, clearly she didn’t like us,” Y/n jokes.
Jungkook chuckled dryly, “Clearly. She said how do I expect her to be friends with the person she’ll always be second best to. As well as the people that blamed her for us not being together.”
“I told her Joon and Yoongi don’t blame her for anything,” he said, “She wasn’t second best to anyone, and you’ve been my friend for years. Sooyoung didn’t believe it. I asked her if we all somehow got along, why wouldn’t our kids be friends. She said there wasn’t going to be any kids for yours to be friends with. I asked her what she meant.” Jungkook choked up at the memory, “Sooyoung said after some thinking, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted kids. She doesn’t know if she can commit herself to that role. She says she has her career ahead of her and I can’t make her be a mom.”
Jungkook started to tear up, “I told her I’m not expecting her to be a stay at home mom. I repeated that I would be a stay at home parent… She… She said she’s not sure if she wants to have kids at all. Sooyoung said it’s too much responsibility.”
He started to sob, his body shaking from the increased intensity. “I couldn’t believe it. When we were dating she said she wanted kids. I’m not upset that she doesn’t want any, it’s her choice. I’m upset that she lied to me about it.”
Y/n’s heart aches for her friend, she knows how much Jungkook wanted kids. Namjoon might be the one buying baby shoes because he finds them cute, but Jungkook has always talked about being a dad. Always talked about how he wanted to be the type of parent his were, that encouraged him to thrive in his likes and talents. He was passionate about it.
“We talked all night. We couldn’t come to any type of resolution. So we decided to separate. This was something that was non-negotiable.”
“Is that what led to the divorce,” Y/n asked.
Jungkook nodded, “She stayed at a coworker’s place that she’s friends with. We didn’t talk for a couple weeks. Sooyoung reached out first. She said this is something she won’t change her mind on. She’s sorry for not being truthful about her stance on kids. We decided to divorce. We settled pretty quickly. It’s signed and official as of last month.”
“I’m sorry kook,” Y/n whispered.
You were sorry, he knew you were. He keeps rubbing your belly, feeling baby Min follow around. Wanting to feel the comfort of having you around.
Jungkook ends up falling in and out of sleep. He doesn’t know how long he lays there for.
“No, I’m fine.”
“He’s asleep right now.”
Who were you talking to?
“No, Yoonie, it's fine. He’s sleeping and he didn’t do anything. I think the divorce finally got to him.”
He heard you pause, but didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment. You must be speaking with Yoongi on the phone.
“No, we just talked about it. He was pretty upset, obviously.”
You continued to play with his hair, brushing out the knots with your fingers. He hummed lowly, snuggling closer to your belly. Baby Min must’ve had the same idea because she was still squirming around. Yoongi assured you he would be home soon with Namjoon to get Jungkook home.
“Y/n?”
“Yes, Kook,” You answered.
He sits up, eyes puffy, and cheeks stained with tears. “Do you ever think about us?”
“Like? Our friendship? Of course, all the time,” you answer.
He scoots closer facing you, and reaches out to hold your hand. “No, I’m talking about us. What we could’ve been.”
“I did, but not anymore,” you answered honestly, “You chose Sooyoung, kook. I wasn’t going to wait forever. I deserved, and still deserve to be happy. And I am happy. You shouldn’t think about the what if’s.”
Jungkook sniffled. “I do,” he whispered, “All the time. I think about what if, I had worked up the courage to confess to you on one of our last movie nights? Things would’ve been different. We would’ve been happy. We would’ve gotten married, and had the wedding you always talked about.” He paused, he’s trying so hard not to cry about it. “We would’ve had those cats you wanted, and we would’ve finally adopted the dog that hangs around the convenience store. We would’ve had a baby. We would’ve been a family. I should’ve said something, shown you how much I loved you. How much I still love you.”
You pulled your hand away from him, “But you didn’t, you chose Sooyoung kook. I loved you, I still love you, but not how you want me to. Maybe things would’ve been different, but it’s too late.”
Jungkook starts to sob, he knows it’s too late. It felt bittersweet to hear that she still loves him.
-
Namjoon takes Jungkook home. He feels everything, yet nothing. Maybe he can start fresh with no what if’s to cling on to.
Joon helps him get cleaned up, and lays him down in his cold bed. He lets himself dream of what could’ve been.
“How are my girls doing?” Jungkook asked, while caressing your growing tummy. “SHE,” you pointed, “is giving mommy a hard time. S’been kicking all morning. She’s definitely YOUR daughter.” Jungkook lets out a sympathetic giggle. Your baby has been a pain in your butt, more like your bladder, since she could move. Mrs. Jeon says her youngest was the exact same, and to expect an energetic baby once she’s out. She’ll be all smiles, and sweet giggles, as well as a pain to put to sleep. Maybe she’ll take after her father and sleep like a log your mother in law jokes. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, birthing classes, nesting, nesting, and more nesting. The nursery has changed colors three times, Jungkook was insistent on doing art on the walls to give it a personal touch. Took a whole weekend, but now your baby girl will be slumbering under the stars.
Both of you have gone through the recommended parenting books, gotten advice from the grandmothers and aunties, Jungkook might’ve panicked a little at the repeated visual of you giving birth. But, it’s all part of the process. He’s been enjoying giving little facts he’s been learning from the shared pregnancy tracker.
“Babe, did you know our baby is the size of a cherry today?”
“Hey, by now they grew all their toes.”
“Did you know our baby can pee? In the womb?”
“Jungkook, what the fuck dude?”
Other than the obvious pregnancy issues, things have been smooth sailing. His favorite thing to do these days has been laying his head on your lap caressing your belly. If it was up to him he’d stay there for hours drawing patterns with his fingers, singing to his baby, feeling her movements.
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A/N: Heyyyyyyyy~~~ originally I wasn’t gonna do an epilogue, but I got the idea after talking about a headcanon I had with my sister. Happy (super) late birthday to Jungkookie ❤️ hopefully in my next fic involving you, you get to be happy lol. Feedback is appreciated ❤️
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If you’re still taking prompt, could you please write something with Steve loving Tony’s big doe expressive eyes, plus him giving tony lots of slow deep kisses and maybe a comforting talk bc Tony’s anxious about something? 🥺
Sure thing! Hope you like it!
(Thank you to @therollingstonys for helping me brainstorm and, as always, this fic can be found on my ao3)
~
Tony is already in bed by the time Steve comes up. Their room is dark, even the windows shaded to block out most of the light coming in from the city, and it takes Steve a moment to realize that the dark mass huddled under the blankets is, in fact, his wayward husband. He sighs softly and runs his hand through his hair, thinking of the dinner he’d prepared for the two of them that had sat out for an hour before he’d finally decided Tony wasn’t going to join him. He doesn’t know why he’d expected otherwise. He knows how Tony gets the night before something big and Tony’s been withdrawing from him for the last couple of days; he should have seen this coming.
“So this is where you’ve been all day,” he says quietly. Tony shifts but doesn’t move out from under the blankets. “JARVIS, lights to 15%.”
JARVIS obligingly turns the lights up, raising them just enough that Steve doesn’t have to strain his eyes in the dark. Tony doesn’t protest the change, which is a good sign. It means that he’s stressed and anxious but he’s not actively trying to hide away.
Steve crosses the room, shedding clothes as he goes so that he’s down to only his boxers by the time he reaches the bed. He climbs up and stretches out over Tony’s body, hovering above him on his hands and knees. From his vantage point, he can see the tiny tuft of hair that’s sticking out from the blankets but that’s it.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You wanna talk about it?”
Tony makes a dissenting noise and the blankets shift, like he’s shaking his head.
“Can I at least see you?”
Another dissenting noise.
“Come on,” he cajoles. “Can’t I see those beautiful brown eyes?”
“No,” comes the grumbled reply.
He bites back a smile. Wouldn’t do to look amused when Tony’s clearly so distressed. “Are you sure? I haven’t gotten to see them all day,” he asks instead, voice low and teasing, devoid of anything that Tony might take as disapproval. If Steve is right about what’s going through Tony’s head right now—and he’s pretty sure he is—he needs to be very careful about what he says.
It takes a moment but Tony eventually shifts enough that his entire head is poking out from under the blankets. He looks exhausted, worn out from stress and worry, and there are deep shadows under those brown eyes he loves so much, but he’s still the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.
“There they are.” He smiles fondly at his husband and leans down to kiss him. It’s meant to be a quick, reassuring thing, but as so often happens, he gets caught up in the feel of Tony’s lips against his, how he tastes, how perfect he looks in that single moment before his eyes flutter closed, and Steve finds himself drawing the kiss out into something slow and lingering.
When he eventually pulls away, Tony’s eyes are dazed and slightly out of focus. Steve can’t resist leaning back down again and brushing a kiss over Tony’s right eyebrow. Tony’s eyes slip closed again as he sighs and Steve kisses each trembling eyelid before pulling back.
“What’s got you so worked up, hmm, sweetheart?” Steve asks.
Tony wiggles out from under the sheets just a little more, enough so that his whole head and the tops of his shoulders are uncovered. “I—” he begins and then bites his lip.
Steve thinks he knows what this is all about and he thinks Tony might be feeling too seen already to admit what’s going on in that big brain of his. He rolls off of Tony, onto his side, and slides under the covers, tucking himself up against his husband’s side, who rolls over to face him. Steve shifts them so that Tony’s leg is thrown over his hip, his head tucked under Steve’s chin, into his chest. He can’t see Tony’s face like this—he’s already missing the sight—but he thinks Tony feels like he needs to hide so he can be open as he should be.
“Better?” he asks.
Tony nods, his beard scratching on Steve’s naked chest.
“So is this about tomorrow then?”
Tony nods again, voice muffled when he says, “I’m going to be a horrible father.”
“You’re not,” Steve says, even though he knows it’s a platitude that barely even makes a dent in Tony’s lack of self-worth. He just can’t stop himself. He hates hearing Tony put himself down like this.
“I am,” Tony says matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be just like Howard and I’m going to ruin this child.”
Steve bites back a sigh—Tony would take it the wrong way right now—and instead presses a kiss to Tony’s hair. “You’re not going to ruin them.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
Because for one thing, I’ll be right here to help you raise them, which puts me ahead of Maria for one, he thinks. But he knows better than to voice that opinion out loud. He doesn’t know why Tony is so insistent on idolizing his mother, who was so frequently absentee, except that she was slightly more loving than Howard had been. And to Tony, so very attention-starved as a child, even slightly was better than nothing.
“Because you’re already thinking about them,” he says. “You’re already worried about how you’re going to take care of them, planning contingencies for every little thing that could possibly go wrong. Parents like Howard don’t do that.”
Tony is quiet for long enough that Steve lifts his chin up and kisses him again, trying to soothe away Tony’s anxieties with every sweep of his tongue. Tony’s arms slide around his waist, clinging to him as he kisses back. Time slides by as they kiss, minutes, hours, who knows? All that matters is the feeling of Tony’s body against his, the taste of his tongue in his mouth.
“This could go so badly wrong,” Tony whispers when he finally pulls away.
Steve tells himself it’s pointless to mourn the loss of Tony’s kiss and points out, “Sweetheart, that would be true even if we were the best parents in the world and had successfully raised five other kids.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Steve interrupts firmly. “You’re not alone. I’m here right by your side. Pepper and Rhodey are here with you. Nat, Bucky and Clint—oh wait, maybe we shouldn’t count Clint.”
To his relief, Tony laughs, tucking his head back under Steve’s chin as he shakes. Steve smiles and brushes another kiss over Tony’s hair, holding him as close as he can. He wishes they could be like this forever, but at the same time, he’s so excited for what tomorrow will bring.
“I just don’t want to mess this up,” Tony admits once he’s stopped laughing.
“That’s what parenting is,” Steve says softly. He’s just as terrified of getting it wrong as Tony is, but he knows that there’s no one way to get it right. “We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll do it together and hey, I think between the two of us, we’ll manage to raise a pretty decent kid. If they’re even a tiny bit like you, I know we’ll have done a great job.”
“Or like you.”
“Oh no, definitely not. I pick way too many fights.”
“But for all the right reasons.”
“That’s not what Bucky says.”
“That’s because you keep dragging Bucky into your fights.”
“That sounds like a him problem.”
“It wouldn’t be if you would just pick your battles.”
“I have picked them,” Steve argues. “I’ve picked all of them.”
Tony laughs again and raises his head to peck Steve on the lips. “Okay you’re right. I hope mini-Stark doesn’t turn out anything like you.”
“I hope they’re just like you,” Steve says, smiling down at him. He’s so lucky. Not everyone gets to spend their life with the person they love more than anything, but Steve not only gets to have Tony but their child as well. “Beautiful and generous and too smart for their own good.” He can see the argument forming on Tony’s face so he quickly adds, “Did Pepper ever decide what she wanted for her present for being our surrogate?”
Tony groans. “Jimmy Choo’s entire spring line.”
Steve winces. “Sounds expensive.”
“Good thing you married a billionaire then, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “Good thing I married you.”
Tony’s smile is soft and sweet. “Everything changes tomorrow, doesn’t it?”
“For the better,” Steve promises.
This time, Tony just nods and says, “Yeah,” instead of arguing. Then his smile turns a little coy. “Last night we’ll have to ourselves for a very long time. We should make the most of it.”
Steve grins and takes the hint, leaning in to kiss him again.
~
He comes home from his run a week later to find Tony asleep on the couch, a newborn Morgan Stark-Rogers also asleep on his chest. Tony’s hand rests on her back, keeping her safe against him. Steve smiles at the sight, a wave of affection for the two most important people in his life washing over him. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the two of them together, setting it as his new lockscreen. Tony will have another anxiety attack eventually and when that happens, he’ll pull this picture out and show it to him.
Tony thinks he won’t be a good parent.
Steve looks at him and knows he already is.
They’re going to be just fine.
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triptuckers · 3 years
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Two Homes (part 5/7) - Nikolai Lantsov
Request: no Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  even though you were determined to leave the palace as soon as you could, you now find yourself waking up in a luxurious room of the palace months later  Warnings: angst Word count:  4.7K..... yea A/N: for the sake of this series, nikolai never gave alina the lantsov emerald lol also this turned out longer than I planned it to be but do I regret it? maybe a bit not in the slightest, enjoy reading! :) (also I know I posted part 4 like yesterday but I want this one out there cause a lot happens & I want to post part 6 & 7 so bad) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 add yourself to my tag lists here 
For someone who had dreaded going to Os Alta, you find yourself starting to actually like it. After pulling you aside, out of earshot of your father, Nikolai explained to you why he told your father he’d picked you as his bride.
When he told you it was to ensure he couldn’t control your life any longer, you got confused, asking him why he would do such thing. In response, he recalled the conversation you had at the gardens, when you told him your father had been controlling your entire life, and how people had made decisions for him his entire life as well. 
Nikolai merely said he thought you deserved to make your own choices for once. Even if it meant living at the palace, far away from Ketterdam.
You had agreed to stay at the palace. You knew you couldn’t go back to Ketterdam now. The news of Nikolai picking you as his bride would probably travel faster than you’d like to.
While you did like Nikolai, and you enjoyed the little time you had spent with him, you made it clear you still didn’t want to marry him. That a part of still longed for Ketterdam. 
Nikolai listened to you explaining your choices, and respected them. While both of you knew all eyes would be on you after announcing the engagement, you also knew you couldn’t push it back any further. Not after all the rumours. 
He did agree to wait with picking an actual wedding date, giving you enough time to get used to your new life. You had told him you had no intention of marrying him, but over time you found yourself thinking more and more about it.
You’re amazed by the palace, and the life you live now. Every day, you walk around the palace, finding new routes and rooms. You start to think you might never see all of it in one lifetime. And you visit the gardens as well. 
You keep the yellow flower Nikolai had given you next to the mirror in your room. But you’d never tell him that, he’d tease you endlessly about it. 
As more weeks pass by, you spend more time with Nikolai, as well as his triumvirate. He’d invited you to few of their meetings, telling you if you ever did get married, you’d have to attend them as well. And the sooner you got used to it, the better.
At first, it felt a little weird. You walk around with Nikolai and everyone knows you as his future bride. While it feels odd, Nikolai’s presence is a comforting one. And the more you get to know him, the more you actually start to like him. Maybe staying at the palace wouldn’t be so bad as you thought it would be.
He spends a lot of time getting to know you. You have long conversations about your life in Ketterdam and his time in the army. About both of your dreams for the future, and what you want to achieve. But you also talk about small and simple things such as your favourite dish, or a book you love. 
Most of the talks take place in the gardens or your room. You like getting to know the Nikolai beneath the mantle of king. You start to realise the two of you aren’t so different. If you had been born in a different city, you might have been childhood friends. 
On a particularly sunny spring morning, the two of you walk around the gardens again. Nikolai doesn’t even have to offer his arm to you, you already place your hand on it. After some time, you’ve slipped into an easy morning routine, which sometimes includes a walk through the gardens.
‘How long until the Summers Week blooms again?’ you ask him as you walk past the familiar bush.
Nikolai glances at the same bush. ‘Probably a couple of months.’ he says. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I think they’re beautiful.’ you as the two of you sit down on the same bench you sat on so many months ago, when you had escaped the ball. ‘It really is a shame they only bloom for such a short period of time.’ 
‘Do you still have that one flower I gave you when we met?’ asks Nikolai.
You glare at him. You just know he’d never let you forget it if he knew you kept it. ‘Yes.’ you say. ‘I wouldn’t throw it away.’
And indeed, a smug look appears on Nikolai’s face. ‘I’m delighted you didn’t throw it away.’ he says. 
You playfully roll your eyes. ‘I expect a new one when they bloom again.’ you say.
‘I’ll make sure to give you one, sweetheart.’ he says with a smile. 
You feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of the nickname. He’d called you nicknames on more than one occasion. You still weren’t used to it. Maybe it had to do something with the fact that Nikolai seems to always look good.
You look at the bush again, getting lost in your thoughts. Nikolai seems to notice. After a while of silence, he speaks up.
‘What’s on your mind?’ he asks you.
You wonder when get got so good at reading your face. ‘I’ve been thinking about, well, all of this.’ you say, gesturing to the gardens and the palace behind you. 
Nikolai turns so he can properly look at you. ‘And?’ he says.
‘I have to admit, life at the grand palace isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. And it has been nice not to have my father following me around all day long. I still miss Ketterdam, but maybe not as much as I used to.’ you say. 
You briefly look at Nikolai and notice a faint smile on his lips as he’s listening to you.
‘Plus, the company isn’t so bad.’ you say. ‘I know I made it clear I didn’t want this. But the time I've spent here has been very nice. Everyone is so kind, and I love the walks around the palace.’
‘What exactly are you saying, Y/N?’ says Nikolai, though the look on his face tells you he already knows. 
You take a deep breath. ‘I’m saying I’m willing to do this. I think I could be happy here. I’m willing to marry you. Even it it’s just for the sake of Ravka. I’d rather marry you than some old merchant back in Kerch.’ you say.
Nikolai smiles. ‘That’s good to hear.’ he says. ‘Was it my dashing smile or charming personality that made you decide to stay?’
‘Don’t get cocky now, Nikolai.’ you chuckle.
‘Sweetheart, have you actually met me? I’ll always be cocky.’ he says. 
You laugh and Nikolai reaches out to take one of your hands in his.
‘But on a more serious note, I really am glad you decided to stay. I didn’t lie when I said you’re nice company.’ he says. ‘And now I can finally give you this.’
He gets something out of his pocket and holds it in his closed fist.
‘Close your eyes.’ he says.
You slightly raise your eyebrows. ‘Really?’ you say. 
‘Really.’ says Nikolai, smirking at you.
You do as he says and close your eyes. You feel how Nikolai lifts your hand and slides something on your finger. You feel the weight of it on your finger and can tell what it is before Nikolai tells you to open your eyes.
A ring with a beautiful green emerald sits on your finger. Your lips part in surprise. He doesn’t even have to say it, you know this ring.
‘This is the Lantsov emerald.’ you say as you look at him.
‘It’s really just an emerald like any others.’ says Nikolai, looking at your hand which is still in his. ‘But that is what most people call it, yes.’
You admire the ring on your finger. ‘It’s beautiful.’ you say. When you look up, you see Nikolai looking at you with an odd expression on his face.
‘What is it?’ you say.
He simply smiles at you and shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’ he says. He gets up and offers you his arm again. ‘Shall we go back to the palace? It’s almost lunch time.’ 
You nod and get up as well but instead of laying your hand on his arm, you grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his instead. The two of you walk back to the palace, and you try to ignore the way people look at your left hand, clearly eyeing the emerald ring. 
This would be yet another rumour that would spread impossibly fast. You had to write another letter to the Crow Club soon. You’d rather have your friends find out through you, than because of rumours. 
You’d been writing letters to the Crows since you decided you stay at the palace. You told them about your life at the palace, and in return they told you what was going on in Ketterdam. 
You loved receiving letters from them. They each took turns writing you, and all of them signed the letter. 
Once you had lunch, Nikolai got called away to another meeting, and you went to your room to write a letter to Ketterdam. As usual, you started off by asking them how they were doing, if any jobs went wrong, and a new prediction on how many card games Jesper had lost. 
You then wrote about finally accepting the fact you’d marry Nikolai. Despite the chances being low they could attend, you invited them to the wedding anyway. You told them you’d send them a formal invitation with the date as soon as you picked a date. 
And then the chaos started. Genya insisted on being in charge of the planning, and she also sketched you a few designs for your wedding dress. They were all equally stunning, and you couldn’t pick one. Eventually, Nikolai picked the one he thought would suit you best.
Zoya was in charge of putting together the guest list. When she asked you who you wanted to invite, you gave her the names of the Crows. She seemed a bit taken aback you’d invite them because after all, they were criminals. You hadn’t yet told her you’d been part of the Crows for many years as well.
When you looked at the list she was writing, you noticed your father’s name on it as well. He’d sent you many letters, which you ignored. You took the pen from Zoya’s hand and crossed his name off the list without a word. 
Time seemed to fly by at an alarmingly speed. Before you know it, you wake up on the morning of your wedding. Until this day, it seemed like a strange concept somehow. As if you couldn’t fully realise it. 
But when your eyes land on your wedding dress, you feel like for the first time, the realisation of what’s about to happen finally sinks in. You would marry Nikolai. You would take his name and you would become a queen. Of a country that’s not even your own.
A knock on your door catches you off guard and you call for them to come in. Genya enters, followed by a few servants. She’s beaming at you, clearly excited about today.
‘Are you ready?’ she says.
‘More like the most nervous I’ve ever been.’ you say.
Genya smiles at you as she sits down on the bed next to you. ‘I understand you’re nervous.’ she says. ‘But I promise you it’ll be alright. We’ll all be here right beside you. And it’s just one day.’
‘One day of ceremonies and traditions and then I’m a queen.’ you say, having an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 
‘Nikolai will be there by your side. And we will be there as well.’ says Genya. ‘Now let’s get you in that dress.’
She rises to her feet and motions for you to get up as well. You hesitate. 
‘Could you, um, go and get Nikolai?’ you ask her, avoiding her eyes. ‘I want to talk to him.’
‘Of course.’ she says and she immediately leaves the room. You get up and start to pace the room, ignoring the servants who are patiently waiting for you. It doesn’t take long for Genya to return with Nikolai. 
Nikolai smiles at you and asks the servants and Genya to leave the room, which they do. 
By the looks of it, Genya caught him while he was getting dressed. His hair is still messy and his shirt is hastily tucked into his pants. He walks up to you, looking at you.
‘What can I do for you?’ he says. 
‘I’m nervous.’ you say.
‘If it helps, I’m nervous too.’ he says.
‘But you always manage to hide it behind a curtain of flirty comments and confidence.’ you say. ‘I wish I could do that.’
‘Y/N, just because I always know what to say, doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous.’ says Nikolai.
He reaches out to take your hand in his and walks you back to your bed, where you sit down. 
‘Listen, it’s completely normal to be nervous. It’s a big day. A lot of important people are going to be present. But I want you to be okay with this, so do you still want to do this?’ he says.
You look at him and frown. ‘Yes, of course!’ you say. ‘We’re not going to cancel this whole thing because I’m nervous. I just hope I won’t throw up because of the nerves.’
Nikolai chuckles. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ he says. ‘If it makes you feel better, we could practice.’ 
You frown again. ‘Practice what? I know how weddings work, Nikolai.’ you say. 
‘It wasn’t the entire wedding I was talking about.’ says Nikolai. 
You look at him, waiting for him to continue. He looks at your lips instead. 
‘Oh.’ you say softly. That was what he meant. 
Nikolai slowly inches closer to you, leaning in. His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes, silently asking permission. You give the barest of nods and Nikolai closes the remaining space between you, softly pressing his lips against yours. 
You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his lips on yours. All of the nerves seem to leave your body as you easy into him. When he pulls away, your faces are still close to each other.
‘Well if that’s what you call practicing, I wonder what the real thing is going to do to top that.’ you say.
Nikolai laughs at your words. ‘You’re getting better at your comebacks with every passing day, sweetheart.’ he says.
‘I learn from the best.’ you say, smiling at him.
‘Are you ready for this?’ says Nikolai.
‘I am now.’ you say with a hint of newfound confidence. 
Nikolai nods and gets up. ‘I’ll call Genya back.’ he says.
You get up as well and walk with him to the door. Before opening it, Nikolai takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. With a wink, he opens the door and steps out into the hallway.
Once Genya and the servants enter, she immediately drags you over and pushes you into a chair to do your hair.
‘You don’t seem nervous anymore.’ she says. 
‘I’m not.’ you say. ‘Nikola and I, uh, talked about it.’ you say, unable to stop your cheeks from turning red. 
Genya smiles knowingly at you. ‘I’m sure it was a good talk then.’ she says, emphasising the word “talk”. 
‘It was.’ you say, avoiding her eyes.
The smile never leaves Genya’s face as she finishes with doing your hair. The servants help you to get in the dress, and you finally look at yourself in the mirror. Genya had really outdone herself with the dress. It looks beautiful on you, as if it was meant to be.
You turn to look at her. ‘Thank you.’ you say. ‘Truly. It’s perfect.’ 
‘Don’t thank me. Nikolai is the one who picked the dress.’ she says. ‘Are you ready to go?’
You take a deep breath and nod. Genya links her arm through yours and you start walking toward the small chapel on the palace grounds. The guests had already arrived and were gathered inside. You can hear them talking and chatting excitedly even outside the chapel.
Genya hugs you tightly and disappears inside the chapel. After a few deep breaths to calm yourself again, you firmly plant your feet on the ground. No going back now. 
The doors to the chapel open and you watch as the guests all rise. A last deep breath, and you start walking. Were there really this many people on the list Zoya had put together?
You start to feel nervous again, but then you see Nikolai looking at you. He’s smiling brightly, and looks very handsome. You remember the feeling of his lips on yours, and find your confidence once more. 
You slowly walk down the aisle, smiling as well, and your eyes are fixed on Nikolai. When you finally make it to the front of the chapel, Nikolai smiles as you stop walking. 
‘Still nervous?’ he whispers softly, so only you can hear it. 
‘Not anymore, thanks to you.’ you whisper back. 
You take a quick look at the crowd. You only recognise the people that lived at the palace as well. Thankfully, you don’t see your father in the crowd. But your heart sinks as you don’t spot your Crows either. They didn’t come. 
You had invited them. Maybe they feared being captured if they risked coming to Os Alta? Whatever their reason was, you’re sure it was a good one. You’d send them a letter after the wedding, asking them if maybe an important job had come up. But still, it hurt a little they wouldn’t attend your wedding. 
The wedding itself seems to last minutes. You’re only focused on Nikolai. He holds your hand and you’re grateful he does. It helps keep you grounded. You had expected the wedding to be grand because after all, it is a royal one. But once you leave the chapel, hand in hand with Nikolai, you realise it turned out to be even better than you expected. 
The two of you are silent as you walk through the halls of the palace. You see the door to your room in the distance, but Nikolai walks right past it. When you raise your eyebrows in question at him, he points at the door to his room in the distance.
‘They’d expect us to share a room. It’d be a bit weird if we got married but sleep in separate rooms.’ he says. ‘Don’t worry, the bed is large enough to fit both of us without having to cuddle close. Not that I would mind if you did.’
You chuckle at his words as he opens the door to his room. You’re thankful to be away from all the guests. You appreciated that they all came to attend the wedding, but you got tired of listening to their congratulations over and over again. 
Once the door closes behind you, you immediately bend down to take off your heels. You watch as Nikolai shrugs off his suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair. 
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he says. 
‘It wasn’t bad at all.’ you say. 
Nikolai studies your face. ‘But there’s something on your mind.’ he says.
‘I just...’ your voice trails off as you try to find the best way to voice your thoughts. Nikolai takes your hand and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him. 
‘I thought they would come.’ you say softly. ‘I invited them, and I know I haven’t seen them in a while, but I thought they’d at least come to my wedding. I spent years with them.’ 
‘Maybe something else got in the way? Maybe something came up and they simply couldn’t make it?’ suggest Nikolai.
You shake your head. ‘Even if Kaz would plan a job, Jesper and Nina would burn down all of Ketterdam if a job prevented them from attending my wedding.’ you say. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why they wouldn’t come. I thought I meant more to them.’ 
‘What if you write them another letter? I’m sure if you just ask them, they’ll explain why they couldn’t be there.’ says Nikolai.
‘I was going to write them about it anyway.’ you say. ‘But first I want to change. As beautiful as this dress is, it’s incredibly heavy.’
‘I had a servant move some of your belongings here already.’ says Nikolai. ‘A part of the closet is now yours.’
‘Thank you.’ you say and you walk over to the closet, opening it. You pick one of your comfortable dresses and go to the bathroom to change. When you get back, you see Nikolai hasn’t changed yet. You didn't mind. He really looked good in a formal suit. 
You move to sit behind Nikolai’s desk to write a letter to Ketterdam. You try to sound polite, but a part of you wants to just write what you’re actually thinking. But the Crows mean the world to you, and you don’t want to hurt them or piss them off. 
Once you finish the letter, you seal it and hand it to a servant, telling them it’s urgent. 
When you get back to the room, you find Nikolai sitting at his desk, fidgeting with something in his hands. Curiously, you walk over to him. 
‘What are you doing?’ you say.
Nikolai looks up and holds out his hand to you. On his palm is a small boat, made out of a piece of rope. You carefully take it from his hand to examine it.
‘How did you learn how to make this?’ you as him.
He shrugs. ‘A lot of practicing.’ he says. 
You smile and hand the little boat back to him. ‘It’s nice.’ you say. ‘Could you teach me how to make one?’
Nikolai nods and pulls out a second chair for you. He spends the rest of the evening trying to teach you how to make a boat out of a piece of rope. While his fingers move smoothly and create the boats with ease, you struggle with it. After all, he had probably done it for many years, whereas you’re only trying it out for the first time. 
When you successfully finish your first boat, you decide to call it a night and go to sleep. Nikolai hadn’t been lying; the bed was big enough to fit the both of you comfortably without invading each other’s personal space. 
Your usual routines don’t change much. Except for the fact you know share a room and a bed. And you notice there are more lingering glances between the two of you. 
Like Nikolai had said, you’re expected to attend important meetings as well. You try to listen to it, but sometimes the meetings just aren’t interesting in your eyes. Luckily you always sit next to Nikolai, who is able to nudge your leg with his boot if he thinks you’re starting to zone out.
You have breakfast together every morning, expect for the mornings when Nikolai isn’t at the palace. You practice making boats out of rope, and you’re improving. Nikolai’s still turn out better than yours, but you’re getting there.
Every day, you ask if there’s mail for you. But somehow the Crows don’t send letters as frequently as they used to. And they had never given you a proper explanation as to why they didn’t attend your wedding. 
Most of the times when you’re lost in thought, you’re thinking about Ketterdam. You hadn’t been there in months, not since the ball. It’s as if the longer you stay at the palace, the more you miss Ketterdam. 
The city had always felt like home. And no matter how much you like spending time at the palace with Nikolai, you can’t help but to feel guilty for being away from Ketterdam for so long. You miss the city, and you miss your Crows.
Nikolai must have noticed something is bothering you, but you dodge his questions. You try to come up with excuses, but eventually, he pulls you aside and stands in front of the door, preventing you from slipping away.
‘Out with it.’ he says. ‘What is going on?’
You look at him, not sure what to say. 
‘Is it our marriage? Do you regret it? Is that why you’re avoiding talking with me?’ says Nikolai.
‘Of course not!’ you quickly say. ‘Nikolai, I do not regret our marriage. I happen like you a lot.’
‘Then what is it?’ says Nikolai. ‘You’re not yourself and I can tell something is bothering you. Let me help you.’
‘I don’t know where to start.’ you say softly, lowering your head and looking at your feet. It all seemed so childish now. 
‘I miss Ketterdam.’ you say softly. You feel tears burning behind your eyes. ‘I miss the harbour, and the tourists flooding the docks. I miss playing card games with Jesper, and going out with Nina. I miss talking with Inej and going over Kaz’ plans with him. I even miss reading to Wylan and trying to win a drinking contest from Matthias. I miss the Crow Club, and their laughter. I miss all of it.’ 
You see how Nikolai’s feet step closer to you and his hands cup your face, tilting it upward so you look at him. He brushes a tear away with his thumb.
‘It’s alright to miss Ketterdam.’ he says. ‘You left everything behind, I understand it if you miss it. It’s been your home for so long.’
‘But this is my home now.’ you say, your voice trembling slightly. ‘Here in Os Alta, with you. I shouldn’t long to go back to Ketterdam as much as I do.’
Nikolai smiles at you, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘I told you a long time ago I won’t let anyone else control the choices you make in life, sweetheart. If you want to go to Ketterdam, I think you should go.’ he says.
You stare up at him, letting his words sink in. ‘But I’m your wife. You’d let me go just like that?’ you say.
‘You are indeed my wife. But I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. If you think you’re happier in Ketterdam than you are at the palace, then you should go. Go and be happy.’ he says. 
‘But I'm happy with you too.’ you say. ‘I just miss my home, that’s all.’
He smiles again. ‘Then you should go home. This is not goodbye forever, you know.’ he says. 
‘Not goodbye forever.’ you say, repeating his words. 
You stand on your toes and lean up to kiss him. Nikolai pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around his waist in response. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.
‘Go.’ he says softly. ‘Go to your Ketterdam, go to your Crows. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.’
You nod and pull yourself out of his embrace. Nikolai watches you as you quickly pack a bag with some essentials. You can’t bear to look at him again as you walk past him, out of the room.
You didn’t know Nikolai followed you from a distance, to see you off. As soon as you got on a horse and left the gates, he stands at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the palace. 
He watches you as you become a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon. The triumvirate, who had seen the two of you leave, joins him on the steps, wondering what Nikolai is looking at.
‘Was that Y/N? says Zoya. ‘Where is she going?’
‘Back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.
Zoya turns to Nikolai. ‘You let her go?’ she says. ‘Saints, Nikolai, why did you let her go?’
Nikolai doesn’t say anything and continues to look at the horizon. Genya is studying Nikolai’s face as he looks at you in the distance. Her lips part in surprise, but her eyes are sad.
‘Because he loves her.’ says Genya.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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