#Lucas is uber a

[rosalinesurvived]

and yep, those two were most definitely dating.

[steddieas-shegoes]

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

-

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

-

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

[enwoso]

Can I request either alessia is on a team bonding night out and has Ella minding grumpy but grumpy has a nightmare and wakes up and refuses to settle without alessia so all the Arsenal girls come back to do their bonding night at alessias so grumpy can relax and go back to sleep

and/or

Grumpy having an allergic reaction to something and getting sick and alessia and the girls have to look after her

NEED HER — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

"wit woo! doesn't your mummy look gorgeous, tiny!" ella giggled as she looked at you with a smile as alessia emerged from round the corner, her heels clicking on the wooden floors which took your attention from the tv playing one of the many films you and ella had lined up for the night.

you and ella sat both in pyjamas, blankets covering the two of you as you'd turned alessia's living room into a blanket fort along with all your teddy's from your room joining just to make sure they didn't feel left out.

alessia had spent the last hour getting ready to go out for some food and a few drinks with the arsenal girls it being part of their team bonding. when nights like these occurred you usually would spent the night with either your uncles or your grandparents but since ella was in london, ella jumped at the opportunity to see her favourite little russo.

"mummy look like a princess" you smiled as alessia gave you a pout as she came over to kiss your forehead and say her good nights to you.

"mummy loves you and be good for auntie ella, okay?" your mummy's tone had changed so you knew she was serious and you nodded, "'ove you too"

ella getting up and walking alessia to her front door. the cab filled with some of the arsenal girls already out side waiting. "and ella remember no sweets after 8 and her night light needs to be on and she doesn't-" alessia began her list of reminders to her best friend, things ella had heard at least five times today.

"doesn't like her door shut, i know less! now go and have fun with the girls and have a few drinks for me yeah?" ella patted the blonde on the shoulder as she stood in the doorway saying her goodbyes, waving to a few of the arsenal girls who she knew that were sat waiting for the blonde in the uber.

"i'll should be back before 12! call me if you need anything!" alessia called out as she walked down the garden, ella waving her off watching as the uber pulled away. moving to shut the front door hearing it click in place before walking back to where you were sitting contentedly watching bluey.

"right i think it's sweet time, tiny!"

after eating too many sweets that if alessia found out she would definitely be a little mad as the ending credits of the last film you were watching were rolling on the screen now, after watching luca first, ella should have maybe put on cars or the good dinosaur but she didn't.

and she wouldn't even deem it a scary film but you were scared. you'd watched pinocchio. ella didn't even noticed the warning that said it wouldn't be suitable for children under the age of 8. just assuming because it was in the children's section that it would be okay for you to watch.

ella knew you were scared but when she asked you, you had told her you were a big girl and nothing scares you.

so when ella put you to bed at your bedtime of half seven making sure you put your night light on and leaving your door open after you'd drifted off to sleep. ella now hoping to be able to catch up on her own series while tidying up the mess you and her had made over the evening.

what ella didn't expect half an hour later was:

"ella.." you spoke quietly, your blanket and esme the elephant teddy held close to you as you stood in the dimly lit hallway. ella looking up from her phone to see your scared frame as tears pooled in your eyes.

"oh tiny, what's wrong?" she cooed as you wondered close to her, your bottom lip starting to wobble as she held you in her arms.

"n-nightmare" you choked out as the tears began. images of the film you'd last watched replayed in your head as well as you nightmare which was of a similar story line.

“shh it’s okay, don’t cry” ella tried her best to calm you down but everything she tried had no affect on you, the tears carried on and ella was at the point where she didn’t know what to do.

she had tried rocking you back and forth, putting bluey on the tv for you to watch, reading you a story book, giving you some milk but nothing worked and nothing soothed you.

“wan m-ma-ma” you whimpered as you sat in ella’s lap, ella conflicted as she didn’t want to ruin alessia’s night but she also didn’t want to have you upset and there was nothing she could do that would settle you. you didn’t just want your mummy, you needed her.

the brunette sighed in defeat, picking her phone from her pocket and getting alessia’s contact up, pressing on her number. to her surprise it only took a few rings before the blondes voice could be heard.

“ella? is everything okay?” she asked, a slight wince on alessia’s face as she could hear you small whimpers for mummy in the back ground.

“um i’m sorry to ruin your night but less she won’t stop cryin’ for you. i’ve tried everything!” ella said, feeling guilty about ruining the blondes night out which only came once in a blue moon for alessia to begin with.

alessia reassuring ella over and over that it was okay, “ella i’ll be ten minutes max, just keep comforting her and i’ll be as quick as i can!”

alessia finished the last little bit of her drink getting up from the table, making sure she had everything before booking an uber back to her house. the arsenal girls had ended up in the local darts club a few drinks along with a gossip and a few games of cards.

“sorry girls but i need to go, y/n won’t settle for ella” alessia apologised as a few of the girls nodded understanding the blonde’s situation before beth spoke up.

“if it’s not too much trouble for you could we not finish the bonding night at yours? maybe order some food in?” beth suggested, alessia taking a minute to think before agreeing. the rest of the girls beginning to pack their own things before making arrangements of who was going in what uber.

eventually after twenty minutes alessia made it back to hers, rushing in front of the other girls. knowing the current state of her that her daughter was in.

unlocking her door with her set of keys, dropping her back and shoes at the door. leaving it open for the girls to come through as the blonde made her way to the living room. her heart breaking slightly at the sound of your cries. you never cried like that so something must of really upset you.

seeing you bundled up in ella’s arms a look of relief came over ella as she saw her best friend. alessia’s motherly instinct kicking in as she scooped you up into her arms. you head going into her neck as your cries immediately started to quieten down.

“what happened?” alessia asked, wondering what it was that had upset you, normally when you were with ella you didn’t even need alessia around. getting on with the brunette like a house on fire always giggling and joking around with her.

“she had a nightmare, and i have now learned that pinocchio is not suitable for children” ella scratched the back of her neck a awkward smile appearing on her face as she spoke. alessia humming, it all made sense to the blonde now.

alessia excusing herself upstairs to try and settle you down for the night as she allowed the arsenal girls in telling them to make themselves comfy as ella chatted away to them.

“it’s okay baby, mama’s here.” alessia cooed as she lay with you in your bed, drawing little shapes on your back as you hiccuped. you starting to feel more relaxed as you clung to your mummy not wanting to let go.

you breathing was starting to become more shallow as you drifted in and out of sleep, the only sound to be heard in your home was the hushed voices of the arsenal squad. alessia placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“mummy loves you so much”

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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[kyseya]

what if the reader tries to call an Uber/family member to pick them up from the farm eventually but they wait till night time bc they can feel something is “slightly”(yeah right) off with the brothers

Since I imagine them being practically in the middle of nowhere, it would be hard to get a strong signal in the first place. Even though they can watch TV in the living room it’s harder to get a good connection on the phone.

(I don’t actually know anything abt phones or signals but this is my fic so it’s ruled by kyseya-logic)

But let’s say reader did get a call to go through to a friend or a family member. This would go differently depending on when she’s try to escape. If she’s try to do it early on/the first night then this would likely go down:

She’d make the call at night and whisper into the microphone as quietly as she could while trying to make herself heard. After retelling all the events to the other person on the line, they’d tell reader that they’ll be there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it would be a long time until they’d be there since the farm was so far out. It meant she would have to find a way to stay out of trouble and survive. Not wanting to stay there, she gets dressed and packs her things into her bag again. Every move she makes is made with outmost caution. She wouldn’t want to wake them up, not when the consequences could be fatal.

After making sure she’s ready to go, she thinks it can’t hurt to wait a little longer to go. The rescuer wouldn’t be even close until hours later. It was late enough that the brothers should be asleep, but not early enough that they’d soon wake up.

Carefully making her way downstairs, she tiptoes over the floorboards. Thankfully none of them creaks as she walks on them. Finally, yes, the doors is so close! She will make it, she’ll be free! As the door comes closer, her excitement grows. Maybe she was worried about nothing. Getting out turned out to be a life of cake. These guys were probably not even that dangerous to begin with. Did she overreact? Perhaps. Was she gone stay there? No, definitely not. Even if reader doesn’t have proof, she trusts her gut and decides to leave.

Reaching for the handle, she turns it. What? Nothing happens. She tries opening it again. The door doesn’t move and inch no matter how much she pulls it. It’s locked. The horrifying reality sets in and has her panicking. What should she do? She can see a keyhole under the knob, so there is no way to unlock it form the inside without the actual key.

“Why are you running away?” A voice speaks from the darkness behind her.

Out form the shadows steps Lucas.

“Were we not good hosts? It that it?” His questions have an easy tone and seem simple, but if you looked into his eyes, you would be able to see amusement. Not the type you feel when riding a rollercoaster or watching yoru favourite movie: the sadistic kind. “It’s kinda rude to just take off in the middle off the night without saying anything. Please don’t be rude, it’s not pleasant for anyone.”

In his hand is a meat cleaver.

————

So yeah, if it was early in when reader came to the farm, they would most likely kill her. Even though both of them felt some kind of liking towards reader, they still wouldn’t know her enough to want to spare her. They can’t connect to her yet, you know.

If she tried to escape when she’d been staying at the farm for a while, then it would be different. I’m currently writing a fic on what would happen if the reader found out what’s inside their special barn, so that will add to this story. If she tried to escape by calling a friend/family member pretty much the same thing would happen as in the fic that will come out soon, so I won’t write anything more here.

That is all thank you.

[passionwillow]

Did It Have To Be My Sister?

Hi guys! I'm back with another request. ☺️ Reader is in the military (naval aviator) and is Street's twin sister. She gets to meet his work family, and falls for our blue-eyed man Luca.

Warnings: Some heated make out, description of sex but nothing explicit. 18+

The chatter and laughter filling the house could be heard from outside. You thanked the Uber driver and handed him some cash before you walked up to the house with a spring in your step. It had been too long since you'd seen your brother Jim Street, and your heart pounded in your chest as you knocked at the door.

Street knew you were going to be coming over, but you lied about when your flight landed to surprise him. He had every intention of picking you up from the airport, but you always loved to keep him on his toes.

A tall, muscled guy answered the door, and you looked up at him with a smile, his blue eyes shockingly bright. "Hey! Is Street here?" The resemblance between you and your brother was obvious, and the man before you grinned and stepped back to let you in. "Yeah! You must be his sister."

You stepped in and looked around at the groups of people, grinning as your eyes landed on your brother across the room, chatting excitedly with a short, slim girl. "That would be me." You thanked the man as he closed the door and hurried across the room. Street's eyes caught yours over the girls head and his wide, almost comically excited smile made you laugh, and he closed the distance between you in two quick steps, scooping you up into his arms.

You squeezed him hard and laughed as he spun you, setting you down and exclaiming. "What the hell?! I was supposed to come get you!"

"I know, but I thought I'd make it a surprise." You grinned and punched his shoulder playfully, not noticing the group of people circling you and your brother. "Who's this, man?" The guy that had greeted you at the door stood behind you, and you turned to see three more men with him.

"Guys, this is my sister. From the military. This is Hondo, my team lead, Deacon, Tan, and Luca. This is his place." You grinned at all of them and shook their hands in turn, your eyes lingering a little longer than necessary on Luca. His blue eyes were still shining with pure happiness and something else you couldn't figure out. You cleared your throat and turned to Street and the girl still behind him. "And that's Chris." She greeted you with a sweet smile and you knew you'd instantly befriend her in no time.

"So this is your work family, huh?" Street nodded and smiled almost proudly, and steered the group of you to the kitchen to sit and talk more privately.

Everyone was eager to meet you and ask about your work. The missions you'd been on, where you'd gotten to travel to, what all came with being a naval aviator. Everyone seemed extra curious about the search and rescues you'd been on, and it wasn't long before you hd a drink in your hand, snacks on the table and the whole of 20-David was listening to your stories. Especially Luca.

You almost didn't notice a man come into the kitchen with you and the group, his voice cutting through Deacon's question. "Wow, Street, you finally get yourself a girl?" You kept your face a mask of calm and looked over your shoulder at the man, your elbows resting on the counter top behind you. His blue eyes and dark curls were attractive, but his snarky demeanor made you want to punch him. "Street is my brother, actually."

The man’s teasing grin faltered, and a blush painted his cheeks as you eyed him with disinterest before looking back to your new friends. “As I was saying.. That search and rescue. So what we do is.." Luca’s grin made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but match it as you answered Deacon’s question, the older man hanging on your words in fascination.

The night fell together in a bundle of laughter, drinks and good food. You spent most of it sitting with Street and the team, getting to know each of them in turn. You managed to slip away for a moment with your brother, the two of you standing by the fridge. "You hear from mom lately?"

The questioned caused Street's smile to fade, his head shaking as his arms crossed across his chest. "No, it's been months. She hasn't checked in with her parole officer." Your heart sunk and you nodded quietly, resting a hand on his arm and squeezing. "We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?" You smiled reassuringly and gently pushed him to go back to his friends, suddenly feeling suffocated in the room of laughter and voices.

You stood straight and adjusted your baby blue sweater as the team talked amongst themselves, glancing at your phone and surprised to see hours had passed. You glanced over at the crew and smiled, eyes finding Chris and Street sitting comfortably close. You made a mental note to ask him about her later. You glanced around the tidy house and a familiar voice came from beside you. “Need something?”

You turned and met Luca's gaze, smiling and nodding as you glanced around again. "Was just wanting to get some air." He nodded in understand and put a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you through the people to the back door, taking you out into the empty backyard.

"Who was that guy earlier?" You sat down at a small picnic table and relished the cool air, Luca sitting beside you and chuckling. "That was Rocker. He's on 50-David. Kinda an ass sometimes, y'know?" You smiled at the honesty in his words and nodded, looking at him and cocking your head. "You've been a big help to my brother, you know. He talks about you a lot."

Luca smiled bashfully at your words and shrugged his shoulders, looking at his hands as he played with the sleeves of his hoodie. "Nah, it's nothing, just family helping each other out. He talks about you a lot too, he's really proud of you." You grinned at his words and shook your head, looking up at the sky and shifting closer to Luca as the air cooled.

"I'm proud of him too. It hasn't been easy, the way we came up.. Especially with my mom." Your voice trailed off and you pulled your the cuffs of your sweater down over your hands. Luca's eyes watched you and he nodded, shifting closer until your shoulders brushed. "Yeah, he's told me.. If you guys ever need anything, I'm here. Whatever it is."

You looked at him in surprise, but the honest concern in his eyes warmed your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile the man. “Street was right about you.. You just like helping people.” Luca’s cheeks bloomed with color and he grinned, holding your gaze as he shrugged. “Well yeah, man. We all need it sometimes.”

You matched his grin and studied his ruggedly handsome features, the alcohol in your system giving you enough courage to lean in and kiss his cheeks. “Well, I appreciate it.” He stared at you in surprise but grinned in return, hand finding yours and lacing his fingers with yours.

You weren't sure how long you sat out there with him, talking about your life and the struggles, him offering up stories of his own, more beer making it's way into your hand and his. It wasn't long before you were both tipsy and sharing kisses out in his backyard.

His lips were warm and slightly chapped as they moved with yours, his hands cupping your cheeks and keeping you close, like you might slip away. Your hands made their way into his hair, tugging at the blonde locks as your kisses heated, tongues clashing and teeth biting at lips.

You followed his mouth as he tried to pull away, grinning as his lips left yours and he stood up, hands finding your waist and tugging you up. "You wanna.. Go to my room?" His sudden shyness after the way his lips were just attacking yours made you grin, and you eagerly stood up and whispered. "Please."

*next morning*

The sunlight shining in through Luca's windows woke up the next day, and you rolled over with a groan to hide from the light, your face finding his broad chest and burrowing in. You felt his strong arms pull you in, his husky morning voice breaking the silence. "Morning, beautiful."

You smiled at his words and mumbled a greeting, tangling closer to him with a hum. The soreness between your legs made you squirm and the pictures of last night played through your mind.

Luca's hands on your hips, your ass, mouth marking your neck and jaw as your hands felt over his strong chest. Clothes being tossed off, you laying on his bed, the smell of him and his cologne filling your nose. A hand between your legs, his mouth, the weight of him still on your tongue..

You smiled to yourself and looked up at him, his sleepy blue eyes meeting yours. "Last night was amazing, y'know." You grinned at his statement and nodded in agreement, mouth opening to reply, but his bedroom door opened and Street's voice broke through the happy daze.

"Luca, do you know where-.. Oh, what the fuck?!" You sat up in alarm and quickly covered yourself with Luca's sheets, cheeks pink and eyes wide. "Street, this isn't-.. Okay, it is what it looks like but.." Your voice trailed off at the alarmed and angry look in your brother's face.

"Seriously, Luca? It had to be my sister?" Luca simply sat up with his trademark bright smile, looking at you and shrugging. "Your sister is pretty cool, man." You looked at Luca and tried not to laugh at his calm demeanor in the face of your brother, but Street was already walking off and muttering to himself about a brotherly code.

Luca got up and pulled on his briefs and a pair of sweatpants, tossing you his shirt and grinning. "Better talk to him before he kills us both." You caught the shirt and laughed, watching him head to the bathroom and smiling to yourself.

You were going to love it here in LA.

[goldengleams]

another cinderella story | l. hughes

summary: after your masquerade dance, you invite luke back to your house to watch a movie that’s right on theme. will he be your prince charming?

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: oh it’s just me being active and posting again!! so excited to be on break for the summer and finally have some free time! this was inspired by an experience i had with a friend and it was so fun to write, so please show some love by reblogginh or liking! leave some requests or messages in my inbox for fun! 🤍

———————————————————————

You pulled your coat around your shoulders as the chilly winter air nipped at your exposed skin, making the climb out of the Uber and the walk to your house that much more dreadful. Your night at your sorority formal had been a blast. This year, there was a masquerade theme and you had gotten lucky enough that your formal was on a non-hockey weekend so that you could invite your close friend, Luke Hughes.

The two of you had had a fun night with your sorority sisters and a few of his teammates who had been invited. Before you left, the drinks had been flowing at your pregame, so you had felt extra loose on the dance floor with Luke as your date.

“Thank you, have a good night,” you said to the driver. Luke quickly climbed out of the car to join you and speedwalk inside.

“I think the cold just completely sobered me up,” you grumbled.

Luke laughed from behind you. “Yeah, you did go a little hard after we finished our bottle of champagne.” You let out a soft groan at the reminder that you and Luke had been handcuffed to each other earlier in the night to complete your champagne and shackles challenge.

“I only had a one dirty shirley but I knew that stupid bottle of champagne would fuck me up,” you said, laughing as you recalled your tipsy self earlier in the night.

“I thought you handled it well, you only tripped three times walking in,” Luke teased. It wasn’t your fault that your best friend had made everyone drink the champagne in a race.

“Well, you knew I wasn’t going to lose to Luca and Bella in the drinking game!”

You and Luke reached the front door of your sorority house and you scanned in. Unsurprisingly, the house was empty, the other girls still at the formal venue or planning to stay with their dates for the night.

You shrugged off your coat and Luke hung it up on the coat rack in the closet along with his own. He had been over to your sorority house many times to study and hang out with you, so he knew where just about everything was.

“I was gonna bring some popcorn and those chocolate covered pretzels upstairs,” You called from the kitchen. Luke came in a moment later, still looking handsome in his button down and dress pants. You wouldn’t admit to it, but your eyes did linger on the contour of his muscles that was evident through his shirt. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Another Cinderella Story!”

“Jack and Quinn weren’t exactly interested in Disney Channel at that age, so blame them next time you see them,” Luke laughed. “How does this relate again?”

You huffed out a breath. “It’s a cultural masterpiece because Selena Gomez’s character goes to a masquerade ball where she dances with the Joey Parker, who is the celebrity in the movie,” you explained while walking up the stairs. Luke followed behind you, intently listening to your words. It was hard to ignore his eyes as he focused on you. “And since we just went to the masquerade dance, it’s a must!”

“So she’s the one playing Cinderella?”

“Yeah and she’s a really good dancer but her evil stepmother, who is played by Jane Lynch, of course, won’t let her be with him. It’s cinematic, I swear Luke.”

Luke’s eyes followed your form as you walked up the stairs. Your dress clung to you in all the right spots and your heels you had worn had made your legs look even longer than usual. He tried not to watch as your hair flowed behind you, the new style making him want to stare at you all night.

“Alright, I’ll get this masterpiece of a film set up, so get the snacks ready!”

Luke took a seat on your futon and you quickly clicked on Disney Plus to turn on the movie. You had started to feel too overdressed in your outfit, so you grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a Michigan hockey t-shirt to change into.

“Nice shirt,” Luke said when you walked back into your room. His eyes had gone straight to your shirt and seeing your choice of attire made him smile.

“Don’t be flattered, it was the first one in my drawer,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You quickly grabbed a hair tie to put your hair up in a bun in front of your mirror. You didn’t expect Luke to be watching you as you turned back to join him where he was sitting.

“You look nice,” he said softly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“In my pajamas?”

“You always look pretty, Y/N.”

You wanted to question what he meant but he turned away and focused back on the television. Recently, you had started feeling like yours and Luke’s relationship was bordering on the “more than just friends” line. He had made it a point to see you as much as he could, which ended up being just about every day. Your friends in your house had started teasing you more and more about how oblivious you were to Luke’s flirting.

You settled in next to Luke and shivered a little, pulling the blanket he grabbed closer to you.

“Come here,” Luke said, opening his arms for you to slide closer to him. The snacks still separated you from the hockey player. You told yourself it was just for warmth, that your sorority house had been known to be drafty in the wintertime.

“You cold?” You teased.

“No, but I know you always are. Your hands are always freezing and you wear, like three layers of clothing everyday, Y/N,” Luke joked. You couldn’t believe Luke paid attention to you like that.

Was it normal to have butterflies for your best friend during a Disney Channel Original Movie?

About an hour into the movie, lots of yelling at Jane Lynch, and one dance break later, you felt your eyelids start to droop. You sat up a little straighter, trying to stay awake to finish the movie with Luke but your night was catching up to you. You could feel him looking at you as you tried to stifle a yawn.

“We can save the rest of the movie for another day if you want,” Luke offered as he paused the movie.

You quickly shook your head. “I can’t leave you in suspense about what happens to Mary Santiago and Joey Parker, Luke. That would be a crime to DCOMs and to you.”

Luke pressed play once again, enjoying how excited you were about the movie and not wanting to miss spending any time with you. “You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want to, Y/N.”

You gave in, resting your head on Luke’s shoulder and cuddling up next to him. You weren’t sure what territory this put you into, since this seemed to be more intimate than anything you’d ever done before. You smelled Luke’s cologne as you moved closer, feeling his arm wrap around you as he welcomed your presence closer to him.

You knew you were a goner right then and there, because three minutes later, you were pressed against his shoulder letting out soft, steady breaths with your arm wrapped around Luke’s stomach. Luke didn’t notice you were asleep until a few minutes later, assuming you had just been watching the movie. He smiled at the sight of you curled up next to him and took in your facial features. After being friends for over a year, he had discovered so many things about you that made him want to be around you even more.

Luke let the movie run on, only half paying attention to what was happening. He had been excited when you asked him to be your date for the night, knowing that there were other guys, including a few of his teammates, who found you very attractive. He would have gone anywhere you had asked him, quite honestly, but the dance was fun and your post-dance plans of showing him one of your comfort movies only made his heart swell more. Even though dancing wasn’t his thing, he knew it was yours, and it made him excited just to see you happy.

Once the film was ending, he reached for the other blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch, not realizing that the remote was right there. The small black box clattered to the ground hit the side of the couch just right so that the sound went up, jerking you awake.

You were so surprised by the sound that you almost didn’t realize you had been asleep on Luke’s shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

Luke quickly bent over to get the remote off the ground which gave you a minute to take in the song playing.

“Oh my god, did I fall asleep?” As a true DCOM fan, you knew that Selena Gomez’s song played at the end as the credits were rolling.

“Uh yeah, but not for long. You only missed her and Joey at the end,” Luke said. He placed the remote in between the two of you, since you had moved away from him in your haste to wake up.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Luke. I didn’t mean to,” you said, feeling embarrassed. You had spent the night trying to impress Luke and now you had probably drooled on his nice shirt.

“No, no don’t be. I was trying to cover you up with another blanket and I dropped it by accident.”

You both sat in an awkward silence before Luke cleared his throat.

“You’re cute when you sleep.” You rolled your eyes at his comment.

“I should’ve known my date was a stalker,” you teased.

“Thank you for inviting me, by the way. I had a really great time,” Luke said sincerely. You felt a flush on your cheeks.

“Even though I got a little too tipsy and fell asleep on you?” You questioned semi-seriously.

“Especially because you got tipsy and fell asleep on me,” Luke chuckled. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with me, Y/N.”

“Of course I feel comfortable with you, Luke. We’re friends.”

Luke quickly looked at you with a smirk on his face before huffing out a laugh and shaking his head. He wanted to say something, you knew all of his tells.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Nothing, I just wish we wouldn’t keep doing this song and dance. We’re worse than Mary and Joey, Y/N.”

Luke took your hand into his. “What do you mean Luke?”

Luke brought his hand to your cheek, the space between the two of you on the couch eliminated as he moved closer. His eyes dipped to your lips, silently asking you a question that you both already knew the answer to.

You nodded, leaning into his touch and pressing your lips against his. Cliche as it sounds, you felt like one of the girls in a Disney movie, kissing your Prince Charming.

Luke pulled away first to smile at you. “Took us long enough, huh? C’mere my Cinderella.”

You giggled and kissed him again, already planning your first anniversary and rewatching of Another Cinderella Story in your head.

———————————————————————

[brisquad-unit-4402]

taking care of drunk ike

today it is my birthday once more so here, i'm posting my favorite fic in my drafts. i'm not sure what i should do today...?!

i love honest thoughts while drunk but i wanted to keep the idea of consent in mind... this is my balance weeeee. the longer the fic goes the more dicey it gets. kinda like actual blackout drinkinggg. so if you need to dip no worriesssssssss

tags: gender neutral reader, pre-relationship, fluff and angst, pining, open ending, fluff with a sad ending, sick fic?, blackout drunk ike, ike is a cute drunk, and then an emotional drunk, emetophobia/vomit, unspecified if reader drinks or not, slightest hint of lucake and shuca if you squint while yaoipilled, one (1) swedish word

⚠️ drinking, emetophobia

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Long story short: Ike is sloshed and needs to get home.

Long story long: Luxiem just wrapped up an ambitious project, so naturally you and the rest of the guys spent all night celebrating. The evening started off with a good meal and blowing your lungs out on karaoke, but if someone told you earlier today that Ike of all people would get piss drunk, you would've laughed in their face. Dude's Scandinavian. He's not a heavy drinker by any means but Vox is the only one that can keep up with him. Even then, it usually ends up with the demon plastered by the time Ike starts slurring his words together.

Except for tonight, of course. All Vox had was a shot with the rest of the guys when the night started, so that initial effect faded ages ago.

You weren't set on getting drunk either, so you ended up being the responsible one too. Even Luca sobered up. He's usually the next to go after local lightweight Shu, but the bar appetizers must've soaked up the alcohol, and now at the wee hours of 2 AM, the other two guys were using Luca as a crutch. Seeing sleepy-drunk Shu rest his head on Luca's shoulder was common. Ike trying to break free from Luca's grasp? Completely different story.

"Luca, let me go."

"Are you going to trip in your heels if I do?"

"No."

Luca let go of Ike's hand. Ike stepped forward, stumbled, and nearly ate shit before he could even get to step number 2. Luckily, Luca figured that would happen and grabbed his arm before the novelist completely lost his balance. "See what I mean now, Ike?"

Ike just grunted in half-hearted protest.

Meanwhile, Vox closed his phone. "I don't want him walking home alone," he said. He glanced at the Luca-crutch and the rambunctious child dangling off his arm (plus the contented Shu on the other side). "Uber should be here in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Vox," you said on Ike's behalf.

"It's the least I can do. Still, do you think he can make it to his apartment? He can barely stand up straight."

You got an idea. "I can go with him and make sure he gets home in one piece."

Vox tilted his head. "What about you?"

"Please, don't sweat it! We live less than five minutes away from each other, so I'll be fine. We even have spare keys to each other's places,” you said. Behind you and Vox, Ike was trying to pull his hand out from Luca's grasp. No matter how hard he tried, he had about as much force as a wet piece of paper. Luca was immovable. You continued. "Besides, I'm a little worried too. I don't want him to trip on concrete or anything."

Which brings the long story to now: you sit in backseat of an Uber with Ike who, as mentioned, is sloshed and needs to get home.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Without Luca to hold him in place, Ike didn't have much of an authority to rebel against. He complied without much of a fight. It's endearing watching him switch up; one moment he's acting goofy with the boys and the next he's docile, staring intently at the back of the passenger seat.

"What're you looking at?" You ask.

"Pouh," he says informatively. When you don't respond immediately he pushes his head against your arm like a pillow and repeats himself. "Pughhh."

"What?"

"Pockets," he slurs. He points at the back of the passenger seat, which is as flat as a board. "This seat doesn't have them. Which is so sad. If it can have pockets we should always have pockets no matter what."

"I think you should talk to women's jeans manufacturers about that."

"I would be great at women's jeans," Ike agrees.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You thank the driver once the ride is done and open the door for Ike. Fortunately he's remembered how to walk but you support him as you climb the stairs to his apartment, one step at a time. His heels, usually quick and prompt, clunk on the ground. Ike sniffs.

Oh, no. He looks like a kicked puppy right now. Did something happen? You try to recount anything that might've upset him. "What's wrong, Ike?"

"I thought about it during the ride." He sniffs again. "Women's jeans don't have pockets and it’s making me sad."

“Sometimes they do!” You pat his back in a quick attempt to cheer him up. “I’ve even seen skirts with pockets.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Ike smiles. “They should make more skirts with pockets.”

“Sure. Where’s your keys?”

Ike produces a key ring and misses the lock, so you open it for him. His apartment smells like cotton and the greasy hint of bacon, just like how you remember. It’s organized but clearly lived in, down to the folded laundry resting on a chair rather than their designated drawers.

“Come in,” he says, not at all surplussed by you. You visit each other often, after all. He ambles through the threshold and onto the couch with a satisfied “Oof.”

The first order of business is to get Ike some water. You don’t even have to guess which cabinet holds the glasses; you get it right on the first try. Once you’re done, you turn to the couch. Ike lays down on the couch, head plopped on the armrest and his folded hands, squishing his alcohol-flushed cheeks. His drooping eyes perk up as your get closer. He’s been watching you.

“Alright, you big dork, sit up properly so you can drink.” You nudge his shoulder, coaxing him up with a groan.

He straightens as you press the cold glass in his hand. With a wave of his free hand, he tries to say, “I shouldn’t, I’ve had a lot to drink.”

You raise the glass. Despite his protests, Ike wordlessly tilts it to his lip with your help. You must look like an alien species, a tangle of limbs holding a cup to a second mouth, but Ike closes his eyes as he sips. When he parts his lips are dewy. The center turns a brighter color, now glossy from the water, rosy red to accompany the flowery pink flush over his cheeks.

He glances at you. "Tastes watery."

"That's because it's water," you say, letting him get a grip on the cup by himself. "Go ahead, have some more. It'll help."

Ike lets out a tiny satisfied sound as he mumbles, “Only because you’re cute.”

Ah?

He drinks more of the water while you stare at him like an actual alien. His Adam's apple rises and falls with each gulp as you try to shake off your surprise. "I... I didn't know you were a flirty drunk, Ike."

Ike pouts at the implication. “I'm not! I’ve never flirted in my life.”

“What was that, then?”

“The truth,” he says plainly.

“Yep, you’ve had way too much to drink.” You rise up from the couch, refusing to let his unfiltered thoughts be detected as honest. However a weight holds you down. Ike clings to your legs, preventing you from getting up. "Wh—hey!"

"Nooo, don't go."

"What's the matter?" You try to wiggle him off, but Ike's grip tightens. Fluffy sand-and-sea hair rustles against your leg as Ike nuzzles you, face hot with liquor. Nerves kick in. Ike might be an affectionate drunk, but the most you've seen him is hug your friends with one arm and playfully sock them without much impact. There's no way he's thinking straight, not if he's intent on using your lap as a pillow. "Ike, I need to get up."

"I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going, I just need to get up."

"But that's the same thing."

"No, it's not. It's..." You inhale through your teeth as he tugs you back down. "Oh, Ike. I need to take care of you so you don’t regret this when you sober up."

Ike rests his cheek against your thigh now that you're back to sitting on the couch. He exhales. Warm breath settles over your clothes. "I regret everything I don't do with you."

Your furrow your brow. "That doesn’t make sense."

He raises his legs to his chest, curling up in your lap. "It makes sense to—to me." He hiccups. A hand brushes against your leg, then retracts as soon as Ike realizes he placed it there.

Drunkenness has granted him a dreamy tint to his jade eyes as he looks up to you, but you're starting to realize what's gotten into him. The weight of it presses down your back, just like how you support his head in your lap. "You make me want to do everything I wish I could do. If I was braver. Or honest." Ike sighs again. "I wish I was good enough for you."

You’re not sure if this is a conversation Ike wants to have drunk. You're not even sure if this is a conversation Ike wants to have sober. It's voyeuristic, listening to his thoughts out loud, the filter dividing personal and public nowhere to be seen. He's always been a private guy with his feelings—at least, he's never told you any of them. You think you understand why now. It makes you feel dirty. Like you've seen too much.

Ike blinks. Tentatively, his fingers brush your knee again. Eyelashes obscure the blue hope in his eyes, making way for the uncertainty laced in spring and jade green. The fear in ochre yellow.

He regains his sense of shame, closes his eyes, and tilts his head away, focusing on the threads on your clothing instead of his true feelings. They come out in a whisper. "I must be an awful friend for hiding from you."

"You're not awful," you say, just as hushed. He's never been. Ike's greatest critic has always been himself. He's never going to remember this, either. You're certain he's going to black out by morning, or pretend like he did, and that this never happened. You could too.

It's unclear if you're an awful friend for reaching out to Ike. You'll decide later.

But right now, all that matters is your nails light against his scalp, stroking his messy hair, smoothing down the strands like you’re brushing the thought away. Away. Let it go, Ike, I'll brush it away, away, away.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Uggh," Ike says groggily.

He fell asleep in your lap while you consoled him. It made your heart hurt, but the pain ebbed by the time you could hear his soft snores. Now that he's stirring, the hurt has dulled to a slight, simple bruise on your heart: easy to ignore, tender when pressed.

"Something going on?" You ask, careful not to be too loud.

"Urggg," Ike repeats. It's not groggy, you realize. It's nauseous.

You snap up. "Oh, no no no no nonononononono. Keep it together, Ike, keep it together!" You help him up and guide him to the bathroom. Simply put, he gets there in time. You hold his hair away from his face as Ike leans over the toilet and empties his stomach's contents.

Naturally in a moment of sickness, Ike is inelegant. Earlier, he used his mantle as a blanket, and abandoned it on the couch when he woke up. One of his fishnet gloves is missing. He leans so deeply that you can see the ridges of his spine through his button-up shirt, wrinkled from rest. You smooth it down, brushing the nausea away by rubbing circles on your friend's back.

He expressed so much about what you mean to him, yet the only appropriate thing you can call him is a friend...

Ike gasps for air. "Hell," he slurs, just before spitting up more of his sickness. He weakly grabs at the nearest wall as support. You can feel his stomach shuddering just by stroking his back, coloring the toilet water each time he retches. "Hel-helvete..."

"Don't talk, just get it all out," you say. He makes an unflattering noise in response; the vomit splatters against the bowl.

And to think, you thought yourself alien before. Clumsiness is common for Ike, but now it’s like guiding an ungraceful animal. He plucks off his glasses, tosses them aside. It feels like holding a cat by the scruff, a bag of rice by its seam.

Ike rasps. “Don’t go,” he pleads, throaty from slumber, slurred from stomach acid. The thought has yet to go away. “Do-don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving.” You set his glasses on the counter, pat his shoulders, and rip off a square of toilet paper.

Now that he’s seemed to recover, you tilt his head to face you. Ike averts jade-green eyes as you pad at his lip with the makeshift napkin. For the first time tonight, proper embarrassment overtakes him. His lip parts to protest, but freezes before the words come out, mentally rejecting whatever is on his mind.

The freeze extends to the rest of his face as you wipe at it. You try not to focus on his eyes, scrunched up with shame. His brows lower as he shuts them. It's only when you can't see the color anymore that you realize you've been paying attention whether you like it or not.

At least now you can observe him without feeling too awkward. Ike's a wreck. Obviously. His hair sticks out from where you held it out of his face. You have to use another square of toilet paper to clean him up. Luckily he's regaining his sense of decency, despite how his face is too ghastly pale to blush.

Ike sighs, barely coherent. "I feel gross."

"It's okay, it happens," you console. Nearby on the counter is a cheap plastic cup. You fill it up with water, then offer it to him. "How are you feeling?"

"...Better." He grabs it with his gloved hand, and traces a bare finger around the edge with the other. "But still gross."

"It happens."

"And I feel bad." You spring up, ready for action, but Ike waves you off as he continues. "Not like that. Just bad."

Instead he takes the cup and swishes, trying to clear the taste of bile. He spits into the toilet (just saliva and water, thankfully). Without his glasses, it's easier to see his hooked nose, especially as he pinches the bridge of it. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"What? No, don't worry about it!" You pat Ike's back again. "I'm your friend, of course I want to make sure you're doing alright."

"I don't know how I thought I had a chance."

"It's okay, you just had too much. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"You're t-too good for me."

"No, I'm your friend."

"I should've figured." For the first time Ike seems to notice he only has one glove on. He rubs his thumb over the fishnet as he stares into the cheap plastic, the crystal water above it. "My imagination always gets the best of me and I have to pretend like I—like I didn't get my hopes up for nothing." He hiccups again. He already threw up all the booze, but you can still smell the alcohol on his breath as he stumbles through his words.

"You're drunk," you say, because now is not the time. No matter how much it pains him to express it, or how much it pains you to keep quiet, Ike deserves better than your true thoughts when he won't remember them at all. It would be cruel to play with his heart.

In the quiet introspection, Ike sits down on the bathroom tile and leans against the wall. He swallows down the alcohol taste. Shadows carve out his exhausted features, including the eye bags usually hidden by his glasses, and the lost, lamenting green of his eye. There's no way he can hear your thoughts, but the emotion sits heavy on his shoulders. He understands the hesitance.

Ike says, "I know." There's nothing to do about it. All you can do is pretend tonight never happened, or that Ike knew how to hold himself back, or that you never had these feelings to begin with.

"I wish I didn't," he adds. Already he protests the silence. It's an elaborate dance around the elephant in the room, but all he wants to do is get in his high heels and trip. If he could he would crash into everything, make a mess, stumble and slip and fall just as hard as he fell for you, over and over again, until he sprains his ankles and his body turns black and blue and the world swirls with dizziness. It wouldn’t be much of a difference. You make him go zero-gravity. Floating on air. The things he dreams of have wings in never-ending motion, away, away, away. "I think I need to lie down."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

should i make a part 2?

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[fluentmoviequoter]

Best (Fake) Boyfriend

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

Warnings: pushy man is pushy and mean. Deacon is perfect and pretty. reader isn't rich (not necessarily poor, just usually unable to afford the vacation she's on). lots of fluff!! there's also a Psych reference and if you find it, we should be friends

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It’ll be fun!” your best friend insists.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“It’s just a weekend. This is the hottest resort in LA and we’re never going to be able to afford it again. Besides, it’s an Uber ride away, if you hate it after the first night, just go home. We wouldn’t hold that against you, swear.”

Closing your eyes, you nod. The small group of friends surrounding you cheers. After they force you to pack a bag, you find yourself in the back of an Uber driving through Beverly Hills.

“How did you get a room here again?” you ask.

“I got an insane discount voucher when I went to the grand opening of that new organic restaurant in Santa Monica!”

“And we’re just spending a weekend in the resort? Swimming, relaxing,” you trail off, unsure if you believe the lack of ulterior motives.

“Yeah,” your best friend answers, “plus rich men from the Hills.”

The Uber driver rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him... not at all.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Save a whole school full of evacuees and you get a dinner reservation at a Beverly Hills resort,” Street muses. “I knew there was a reason I liked this gig.”

“You do know that place will be crawling with rich, single women,” Hicks begins.

“Yeah, we do,” Tan and Street cheer together.

“And badge bunnies,” Hicks finishes.

Street shrugs, and Deacon and Hondo shake their heads. 

“Do we have to attend?” Deacon asks.

“Why? Got better plans?” Street asks.

“A night in the hills isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun time, playboy,” Hondo answers. Deacon nods his agreement.

“Yes, you have to go. Mayor’s going to be there tonight, too. Every week like clockwork,” Hicks answers.

“Hey, Deac,” Street calls as they walk out. “What’s the real problem?”

“Just seems like a materialistic, money-based approximation of the worth of the lives we saved,” Deacon answers. “The mayor’s office just implied all those lives are worth approximately $650.”

“Those meals are over $125 each?” Luca gapes. “Sorry, I know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first or last time we’ll receive a monetary thank you, but at some point it becomes more about the reward after the job than the job itself,” Deacon adds.

“Maybe we’ll be there for a reason,” Luca offers. “But I get what you’re saying. We are focused on the job, and that’s all we can control.”

“Then I guess we should clean up. Places like that frown upon dirt covered tactical uniforms."

"Their loss; this is my best look,” Street jokes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Um, I can’t afford to look at this menu,” you say, pushing it back onto the table. “Maybe I should go find a diner or something.”

“It’s included,” your best friend whispers. “But we’re trying to play the part, so sit up and feel as good as you look in that outfit.”

Sighing, you straighten your shoulders, picking up the outrageously priced menu again and trying not to let your shock show. Indeed, you’ll never live like this again, but you’re not sure you’d want to even if you could.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Would it be wrong for me to say there’s one for each of us?” Street asks, glancing over his menu.

“Yes,” Deacon, Hondo, and Luca reply in unison.

“They’re women, not suits, Street,” Deacon adds.

“Think I could land one?” Street asks.

“Playboy,” Hondo sighs. “You don’t have enough game for half of one of those women, kid.”

“Really? ‘Cause the one in the blue’s lookin’ over here.”

“Probably at Deacon,” Luca says, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“Right,” Deacon agrees sarcastically. “I- honestly, I don't know what's in most of these foods, so one of you order for me.”

He sets his menu down, his gaze wandering to the table of women Street was talking about. One of them catches his attention, and when the four other women get up, giggling as they walk toward the bathroom, he decides he’s looking at a kindred soul.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Mind if I sit here for just a moment? My friends are running late, and the reservation is under another name,” a man explains, smiling as he looks at you.

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“Thanks,” he says, cutting you off as he sits beside you.

“My friends are coming right back,” you state. “So, you should find somewhere else to wait.”

“Sounds like you have time to kill, and I do, too. What’s your name?”

You don’t answer, fiddling with the bottom of the tablecloth as you watch the doorway for your friends to return.

“I can’t imagine someone ditching you.”

The man leans into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head away. When his hand brushes against your covered hip, you stand quickly.

“I told you that I didn’t want to talk, so you should find your way to your own table before I come back,” you say lowly before walking to the balcony entrance.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon tunes out his teammates as he watches a man sit beside you. Your obvious discomfort makes him eager to help. He stops at the thought that one uninvited man in your personal space is likely more than enough.

“Deac?” Hondo asks. “Oh,” he adds when he looks at what is so worthy of Deacon’s attention.

“Didn’t think he still had it in him,” Luca whispers to Hondo.

Deacon stands suddenly, his attention on your back as you walk onto the balcony. Hondo notices that the man beside you looks angry, and when he jostles the table in his haste to follow you, he knows why Deacon is so invested.

“Go help her out, Deac, we got your back,” Hondo says.

Deacon nods wordlessly, buttoning his blazer as he follows in your footsteps. His team looks on, sure that Deacon has control of the situation but is prepared to jump in if the situation calls for it.

“Deacon comes back with her glued to his side or that starry far-away look in his eye,” Luca announces. “Trust me.”

“My money’s on the first one. You see how she relaxed the moment her friends left? She’s just like him,” Tan points out.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Looks like you found your way to my table, too,” the man says behind you.

When you turn to face him, you step back. His jaw is tight, and his eyes look darker than they did inside.

“Change your mind about spending time with me, girlie?”

With your side to the door, you notice someone walk out, but don’t expect an arm to circle your waist a moment later.

“Hey, babe,” the man says. “What’s going on? Came back to the table and you were gone.”

Looking up at him, you sigh at the sight of his large, kind eyes. Trusting him, you relax against his side, raising a hand to press against his sternum.

“Sorry, handsome. This guy was waiting for his friends,” you explain.

“You need help finding your table or somethin’? This is a nice place, I’m sure they can help with that.”

The man clenches his fists at his side, looking between you and the man holding you to his side.

“Or do you need a different kind of help?”

The hand on your hip tightens, his touch still gentle as his voice drops. He’s defending you, angry for you, and though you don’t know why, you’re grateful.

“No, I’m good. Your ‘babe’ here might want to learn some manners, though.”

You press your hand against your guy’s chest when he tries to follow the man inside. Whispering your name to distract him, you sigh when his attention returns to you.

“I’m Deacon,” he replies. “Sorry for grabbing you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking walking out here alone.”

Your hand is still spread over his chest, his arm around your waist, and his hand rubbing soft circles on your hip. You know the moment has to end, but your desperation to draw it out outweighs your logic.

“Well, thank you, Deacon. You’re a great boyfriend; I’m sure there’s a very happy woman somewhere.”

Deacon’s hand moves to your waist as you move back, and he quickly raises the other to stop you. 

“There is no happy woman,” he responds. “I just- how often do you have to deal with stuff like that?”

“Not very often. Most guys get the idea, even if it takes a few tries. Never had to be saved like this before.”

Deacon sighs, disappointed either in you or the situation. You hope it’s the situation, and Deacon can practically read your mind.

“I’m a SWAT sergeant, and we have to watch for crossfire,” he begins.

You nod with furrowed brows, confused as to where this is going.

“I just will never understand how some men are so okay with not caring how many women they hurt in pursuing their own… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“How? How is there no lucky woman?” you ask softly. “Between the kindness and the poetic speeches, you’re just begging to get snatched up.”

Deacon drops his chin, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Why’d you follow me?” you ask.

“You were uncomfortable. I noticed you before he sat down, and then when you stood up so fast I couldn’t just sit there. Especially when he followed you.”

“Then you can tell I don’t fit in here.”

“I can,” Deacon agrees before whispering, “because I don’t either.”

“Could you maybe ditch your friends?” you ask. “Let me call you handsome for a while longer?”

“You seem a bit too pleased to have a fake boyfriend who only came out here to scare somebody off.”

“Because my fake boyfriend is better than any real one I’ve ever had.”

Deacon smiles, pulling you against him. “I have to stay for dinner, it’s a work thing. But if you’re still up for pet names later, and tomorrow, and for a good, long while, I think we can work something out.”

“I will be.”

“Have your phone?”

You pull your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He keeps one hand on your side as he adds his contact, sending himself a text with your name. After he returns your phone, he sighs.

“The moment’s over?” you ask.

 “The moment is on hold,” Deacon corrects.

“Enjoy your work dinner. I’m going to go have a free dinner and listen to my friends pretend they belong here.”

“Feel free to sit at my table if you need a break. I’m sure they’re talking about you already. Trying to decide if I’ll actually act on my feelings or just come back in alone and puppy-like.”

You smile, slowly separating yourself from Deacon. Walking in first, he holds the door for you, and you brush your knuckles against his hand before returning to your table. As you sit, your eyes stray to Deacon and never leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That little hand thing counts, right?” Tan asks.

“Counts for what?” Deacon inquires as he sits.

“I thought you’d come back with your arm around her.”

“We’re, uh, we’re gonna keep talking later.”

“Atta boy, Deac!” Luca cheers.

“Why didn’t you invite her over?” Hondo asks. “This may be a work thing, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.”

“I did. If she gets tired of her friends, she’ll be over.”

“Yeah,” you interject, pausing at the corner of their table. “I’m tired of my friends and your table seems like a better fit.”

Street, Luca, and Tan rush to pull a chair over for you, arguing over who gets the credit. You laugh at their antics as Deacon tells you everyone’s names.

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” you say.

“So, what do you think of our Deacon here?” Luca asks, smiling kindly.

“I think he’s great,” you answer honestly. Turning toward him, you whisper, “And handsome.”

“Are pet names our thing now?” he asks.

“Hey, you started it, babe.”

Deacon dips his chin before his eyes rise to yours, and you think ‘beautiful’ might be a better fit for him. Luckily, he promised plenty of time to try all the pet names you can think of.

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[katethetank]

The Dungeon - Chapter 6

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: They boys have their second date, Eddie learns more about The Party, things start to get a little heated CW: Discussions about coming out, smooching, just a smidge of dry humping Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, smut Word Count:4,560

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

The next few weeks managed to fly by. Steve has been texting, or calling, or FaceTiming with Eddie practically every day. When he sent him his address for the date, he wasn’t at all expecting gifts to arrive. He had a particularly hard day at work and when he texted Eddie that he was too exhausted to make himself dinner, he was beyond shocked when he heard a knock on his door and opened it to find an Uber Eats guy standing there with takeout from the Thai place in his neighborhood.

He also got a Muppets postcard in the mail from Greenville, MS - birthplace of Jim Henson - with a note from Eddie saying “Can’t wait to have my own Rainbow Connection with you soon! Are any of the muppets gay? I bet Animal is pan. Janice is definitely a lesbian, and Gonzo is some flavor of queer. See you soon sweetheart! xoxo E.M.”

Then he got a delivery of like, 4 dozen donuts with a note to share them with the kids at the center. He will neither confirm nor deny if that made him burst into tears.

Robin has been super supportive, but the kids have been relentless. After his first date with Eddie, their group text had blown up. 

Dustybuns: STEVE are you gonna tell us anything? Don’t you love us anymore?

🏀Lucas🏀: Yeah what’s going on man? Did you totally blow it?

Mad Max: I bet he blew something 👀

Mike Fucking Wheeler: Dude gross, don’t put that image in my head!

😇 El 😇: Why are you imaging that Micheal?

Mad Max: 💀

🧙Will the Wise🧙: Come on Steve, give us something! We’re dying here!

Mad Max: Is Eddie gonna be our new dad?

Assholes.

Between work, talking to Eddie, and dodging the kids, Steve has been trying to plan the perfect second date. Food has been kind of a love language for him. He wants to show off a bit, but also make something that’s a crowd-pleaser. He had a movie night with Robin recently where they had their eureka moment. 

They were cuddled up on his couch watching Chef for the gazillionth time. It got to the scene where Jon Favreau was cooking for Scarlette Johanssen and they both shot up at the same time shouting, “Sexy Pasta!!!” They’ve made it before together, in a much less sexy way, and it’s become one of their favorite meals.

Once the food was figured out, they made their way to his closet to dissect his entire wardrobe. He needed something comfortable for an at-home date, but sexy enough to highlight his best features. They landed on a pair of dark jeans that were flattering in all the right places and really hugged his ass because it’s your best feature besides your hair, Steve! You gotta show that thing off! They paired that with a plain white undershirt and a short sleeve light wash denim shirt. It kinda had a classic greaser vibe, and really made his arms look nice.

Cut to now, where Steve is in his kitchen, cooking up a storm. He spent the day making sure his apartment was company-ready. Vacuuming, dusting, cleaning every window in the place, scrubbing the toilet, he even made a dessert for later: Oreo brownies. It’s something he’s made for the kids for years and they always beg him to make it for their birthdays. Dutch chocolate brownie batter, with chopped Oreos mixed in, and he tops it with cookies and cream buttercream, more chopped Oreos, and a chocolate ganache drizzle. It’s fucking good.

He’s got an arugula salad on the table ready to go with a lemon vinaigrette. Lights dimmed. Candles lit. Garlic bread prepped. Lemon herb chicken roasting in the oven. Pot of salted water almost ready to boil. A pool of olive oil ready in a pan on the stove. Like twenty garlic cloves thinly sliced. A pile of freshly chopped parsley. Red pepper flakes and sliced lemons next to the pan. All of the prep has helped keep his nerves at bay.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. 

He takes a steadying breath and makes his way over. All of the calls, all of the texts, all of the flirting and planning couldn’t prepare him for what waits on the other side. There stands Eddie, wearing tight black jeans, Chelsea boots, a blood red button down with half of the buttons undone to show off his tattoos. He’s holding his hands behind his back, but Steve can see he’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his slutty forearms. Hair tied up and wavy tendrils framing his face. His beautiful face that has the most stunning smile and dimples for miles.

“Eddie.”

“Hi Stevie.” Eddie brings his hands out from behind him, and he’s holding a bouquet of huge sunflowers. “It’s so good to see you sweetheart.”

He hands over the flowers and Steve is stunned speechless. He wordlessly takes them and steps aside gesturing Eddie in. He closes the door behind him while Eddie slowly spins in a circle taking in his space. 

“Nice place you got here Stevie. It’s really cute. Very…you. Are the flowers ok? I didn’t go overboard, did I?”

Steve’s brain finally comes back online. “They’re gorgeous! Nobody’s ever given me flowers before…I love them.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles. “It’s the least I could do. I wanted to get you something, and I wasn’t sure what kind you liked. These reminded me of you.”

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Eddie. Come on in! Let me get these into some water, and I can finish cooking.”

Eddie follows him into the kitchen, his head on a swivel taking in his surroundings. Steve doesn’t have any vases, because ya know, he’s never been given flowers before. But he fishes out a glass pitcher from his cabinet that he usually uses for margaritas, fills it with water and settles the flowers inside. He’s all smiles as he carries them to the table to join the candles. It’s the perfect addition.

“It smells amazing in here. Whatcha got cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Oh my god, no. That was ridiculous!”

“What!” Eddie laughs. “That wasn’t that bad! I’ve definitely said worse. Besides, it’s not just a line. You look amazing.”

Steve scoffs. “Me? What about you! I feel like a schlub when you show up looking like that!” 

“Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care how I look!”

Narrowing his eyes, he asks, “Did you just quote It’s a Wonderful Life at me?”

“Goddamn…handsome, funny, sweet, and he gets 1940’s movie references? What can’t he do?!”

“Cook dinner while you distract me with your flirting! Now take a seat and let me work my magic. There’s some sparkling cider on the table, help yourself while I finish this up.”

Eddie dutifully settles himself in a chair and pours himself a glass while Steve gets the pan heating up. They make small talk while he slowly sautées the garlic and drops the spaghetti into the boiling water. The chicken is ready to pull out and rest, and he pops the garlic bread into the oven. Red pepper flakes join the garlic, and the pasta is drained. He adds that to the pan with a sprinkle of salt, the mound of fresh parsley, and squeezes the lemon over the top. It’s when he’s tossing the pasta in the pan that he realizes Eddie’s gone quiet. He looks over his shoulder to find the man dreamily staring at him. Sexy pasta indeed. Thank you Jon Favreau. 

“You ok over there?”

Eddie seems to snap out of it and replies, “Never been better! It’s kind of mesmerizing watching you. Other than Wayne, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone cook for me like this.”

“Well, it’s my pleasure. I really like making food for people. There’s something therapeutic about it I guess? It’s really satisfying taking all these pieces and putting them together into something that everyone can enjoy.”

Eddie’s all dimpled smiles as he talks. “Well I feel bad just sitting here. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Um…Yeah, you wanna cut up the garlic bread?”

Steve pulls it out of the oven as Eddie gets up and makes his way over. Steve hands him a cutting board and bread knife. Eddie gets to work and Steve pulls out a couple plates from the cabinet and starts dishing up the chicken and pasta. He carries the plates over to the table and Eddie follows with the garlic bread. They settle into their seats across the table from each other and Steve is delighted to see that Eddie already poured him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Stevie darling, this looks amazing.” He picks up his glass and holds it out.

Steve copies the motion and before they clink their glasses Eddie toasts, “To another perfect date. And hopefully many more.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Steve whispers as they both take a sip.

Their meal is devoured as they catch up on the little they haven’t already discussed over calls and texts in their time apart. Eddie devours everything, but has a special appreciation for the pasta. The moans he lets out are enough to make Steve squirm in his seat. 

“Stevie, I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you worked in that kitchen, but I am grateful. That’s the best meal I’ve had in a long goddamn time.”

They’re holding hands across the table again, eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I’m really glad you liked it. It’s one of my favorite dishes. Something Robin and I make together all the time.”

“Well I’m honored that you shared it with me. Everything was perfect. The only thing that will make it better, is if you let me clean up.”

Appalled, Steve tells him, “Absolutely not! This is my mess, I’ll clean it up!”

“Nope. Wayne and I had a deal when I used to live with him. A little rule called ‘I cook, you clean.’ Makes things equal.”

“Yeah, well, Wayne’s not here is he? So that rule doesn’t apply!”

Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Oh, do you want me to call him and invite him over? Have him give you one of his stern talking-to’s?”

“Oh my god no! Stop! Fine, you can help clean up. But I’m doing it with you!”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “And here I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

“Get out. That was the worst one yet.”

Eddie cackles as he stands and takes their plates. They get the kitchen cleaned up pretty quickly, four hands working better than two, and Steve leads them into the living room. Eddie’s attention is drawn to a picture on the wall of Steve and The Party at their high school graduation.

“Alright, I’ve heard a bit about these troublemakers, now I need you to tell me who’s who.”

Steve smiles like a proud mom (yeah ok, he’s the mom, fine) and starts to point them out. “This is Dustin. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother and a total pain in my ass. Super smart, and he knows it too, which gives him a huge ego. But he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known.

“And this guy is Lucas. He’s the only one of The Party who has any interest in sports. When he was in high school I helped him train to get on the basketball team. Made varsity his Sophomore year!”

Steve can see the lack of understanding on Eddie’s face.

“That’s a good thing. Really good. He’s a great athlete and helps out sometimes when I’m coaching at the center.

“The red head here is Max. She and Lucas met in middle school, started dating seriously in high school and they’re pretty much inseparable. She comes off as a hardass but goes pretty soft for Lucas. And only him. Honestly, she can scare the shit out of me sometimes. But she’s like a little sister to me. She had this step brother who was a total asshole. Real pompous dickhead, and a fucking racist to boot. When he found out they were dating he lost it. Thankfully I was there to step in. Took a plate to the head, but it was worth it to keep them safe.”

Eddie, looking horrified, asks, “Did you just say ‘plate to the head’? Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. He was a total psycho. Got the reminder of it right here.” Steve lifts up his hair right by his temple where the scar is.

Eddie reaches out to run his finger along the mark. “You’re fucking unbelievable Steve. Of course they call you ‘mom’ with how you protect them.”

“Yeah, well…they’re a pretty great group of kids. This one here? That’s Will. He’s an amazing artist. He actually did all the walls at The Dungeon! I’m not really into the game they play, but I gotta say, it looks incredible. He did a really good job.”

“Woah, wait a second! He did all that? When I was looking for a coffee shop I saw it online and the pictures of the interior is what drew me into that place. It looked like a D&D game come to life, or a fucking tavern out of Tolkien novel.”

Nodding his head Steve replies, “Yeah, that’s all Will! It took him weeks to get it all done. I’m so fucking proud of him. He helps out sometimes at the center too. Does art projects with preschool kids, or sits in with Rainbow Connection. He really struggled before he came out in high school. Was totally withdrawn and just a shell of who he was. When he finally found the bravery to tell The Party that he was gay, it was like the light inside him turned back on again. They were all super supportive.

“He was the one who actually made me realize I didn’t need to hide anything. I came out as bi not too long after, and stood by him when he told his family. His mom, Joyce, she’s the best. She had him wrapped up in a hug before he could even finish talking! And his step dad Jim is this strong silent type, right? Big guy, retired cop. He had tears in his eyes and told him that no matter what, he’ll always be there for him…”

Steve’s eyes are starting to water and he attempts to sniffle it back in. Joyce and Hop have been such strong allies for him and Will. They basically unofficially adopted him when they figured out how absent his own parents were. 

A strong hand rubs circles on his back. “You ok there Stevie?”

Steve’s shining eyes meet Eddie’s and he smiles and nods, “Yeah. Yeah I’m ok.”

“What about the other rugrats? That’s the one I saw snapping at you that first day, right?” Eddie asks while pointing to a scowling Mike Wheeler.

“Ha! Yeah, that’s Mike. He’s a little shit. I used to date his sister Nancy in high school and he never forgave me. Takes any opportunity he can to roast me. He’s a good kid though. Smart, creative, fiercely protective of The Party. And he’s dating El, this one here. She’s actually Jim’s adopted daughter and Will’s step sister. She’s a fucking angel. So sweet and empathetic. She really balances him out.”

“Damn honey, seems like you got yourself a nice little family here.”

Steve smiles wide. “I do. I really, really do…So! Movie! What do you wanna watch?”

He leads Eddie over to his dvd collection and lets him peruse the options. He became a bit of a movie buff when he was working at the video rental place with Robin years ago and swears by keeping discs instead of just streaming everything. You never know when Netflix or whoever are going to drop a title.

“Nice selection you got here! I haven’t even heard of some of these. What’s…Velvet Goldmine?”

Steve gasps. “Have you never seen it before?! It’s a queer cult classic! Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Christian Bale, Ewan McGregor-“

“SOLD! Put it on!”

Steve laughs as he pulls the case out and sets up the movie. “And here I was, ready to convince you by saying that you get to see Ewan McGregor dance around naked covered in glitter.”

“You’re not messing with me, are you? Don’t joke about something like that.”

Steve puts his hand on his chest and says, “I would never.”

They settle themselves on opposite ends on the couch  and start the movie. Steve is nervously tapping his foot and keeps stealing glances at Eddie. His beautiful profile lit up by the light from the tv. “You um…you can sit closer if you want.”

Eddie’s attention turns to Steve and he quietly says, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You said you wanted to take things slow, so I’m trying to make good on my promise of being a gentleman.”

He can feel his cheeks flush. “I appreciate that Eds. But it’s ok. Get over here.”

They both scoot over and meet in the middle, thighs and shoulders touching. Eddie lifts his arm and drapes it over the back of the couch. “Is this ok?”

Eddie’s just a little taller than him, and he feels small when he looks up at him, tucked under his arm. “More than ok.”

They share a small smile and turn their attention back to the movie. As they get more comfortable in each other's proximity they begin to relax more. Steve leans into Eddie’s side and rests his hand on his knee. Eddie’s arm falls from the back of the couch and settles around his shoulders. His ringed fingers rubbing small circles on his arm. It feels so nice. It feels right.

About halfway through the movie Steve remembers that his brownies are waiting on the kitchen counter. He reaches for the remote and presses pause. “I totally forgot I made us dessert! Do you want some?”

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Stevie, you spoil me! I’d love some.”

He gets up, plates two big squares, and brings them back to the living room. He hands Eddie his plate and starts the movie back up again.

“Sweetheart this looks insane. What did you make?”

“Oreo brownies. They’re a hit with the kids, they have me make it for all of their birthdays. Thought it would be good for tonight.”

Eddie scoops up a forkful and eagerly takes a bite. The moan that leaves his mouth is doing things for Steve. “Holy shit, this is amazing! You made this??”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Honey, I love it. This is so fucking good I could lick the plate clean.”

That doesn’t help the desire forming in Steve’s gut, imagining Eddie’s tongue licking other things. 

Down boy.

They finish their brownies, set the plates on the coffee table, and settle back into their previous position. Eddie’s arm feels like it’s at home wrapped around him. Steve’s heart swells and he can’t help but think I could get used to this. It’s a dangerous thought and he has to remind himself that he’s taking this slow for a reason. Eddie has been nothing but wonderful this whole time, but he’s not quite ready to let his guard down yet.

The movie comes to a close and Steve turns to Eddie to ask, “So, what did you think? Super weird right? Kind of an acquired taste I guess, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh absolutely, it was weird as fuck, but that’s what I loved about it. Totally unconventional, and the music choices were-“ he lifts his hand to his mouth and does a dramatic chef kiss. “This has been a really great night Stevie. Thank you.”

“Of course Eds, I’m glad you’ve had a good time. I’m…I’m glad you’re here.”

They’re both quiet as they take each other in. The dim lighting of the living room casting shadows along their faces. The light from the tv making Eddie’s eyes sparkle. They keep glancing down at each other’s lips and Steve can feel his heart beating in his ears. He wants nothing more than for Eddie to lean in, but true to his word, he’s being a gentleman and not making any move.

Steve takes a deep breath and just above a whisper he says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers back.

“Will you kiss me?”

Those dimples of his make a reappearance as Eddie smiles and asks, “I’d love to. But are you sure?”

Steve nods and slowly begins to tip his head towards Eddie. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Eddie’s free hand comes up and caresses Steve’s cheek. A gentle little touch, featherlight like Steve is something delicate. He’s never felt so held, so adored. Eddie slowly leans in, nuzzles his nose with Steve’s, and finally closes the distance. 

This kiss is a light, tentative thing. Eddie’s lips are so pillowy and soft and gentle. He pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eye. Asking the question without needing words, is this ok? Should we keep going?

Steve then takes the lead, leaning back in and kissing Eddie with a little more force, a little more intent, but still soft and slow. All Steve can hear is the pounding of his heart and the clicking sounds their lips are making and they exchange chaste, sweet kisses. He wants more. Needs more. Needs to know what Eddie tastes like and how his tongue feels in his mouth.

He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and capturing Eddie’s plump bottom lip, giving it a gentle suck. Eddie lets out a soft moan and opens his mouth in return. Steve tentatively licks at his upper lip and Eddie receives the message, his tongue slowly lapping into Steve’s mouth. He tastes like chocolate.

As the kissing intensifies, Steve reaches up and slides his hands into Eddie’s hair, being careful not to tug it out of his bun. Eddie’s hand that was resting on his cheek moves down and grips his hip. They’re both panting and moaning as their tongues caress and chase each other. The hand on Steve’s hip tightens and instinctively, without breaking the kiss, he lifts himself up and settles on Eddie’s lap. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and their kisses get deeper, firmer, hungrier. 

Steve is getting hard fast, and if he’s not mistaken, Eddie is too by the firmness he can feel under him. He sucks on Steve’s tongue and it sends fireworks right down to his dick. Like he can’t even control his own body, he rocks his hips down into Eddie and they both let out a groan as their cocks meet. Immediately Robin’s voice echoes in his mind, just don’t jump in dick first, and suddenly he snaps back into rationality and breaks the kiss.

Panting and wide-eyed, Eddie looks up at him with concern written all over his face. “You ok? Should we stop?”

Steve is trying to catch his breath and reign his dick in. He nods, “Yeah. Yeah I think we should slow down. That got really intense really fast.”

Eddie rubs his back reassuringly. “Of course honey. I’m sorry if I took that too far-“

“No, no! Don’t be sorry. That was amazing. You’re amazing. Jesus, I haven’t been kissed like that…maybe ever.” Steve runs his hand through his hair and sits back on Eddie’s lap, putting some space between their flagging dicks. “It was just getting a little too good, and I meant what I said. I wanna take this slow.”

“Anything you want. It’s yours.”

And the sincerity of those words makes Steve melt. He drapes his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and rests their foreheads together. “I want to keep kissing you. You feel incredible. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Eddie tilts his head up to kiss the tip of Steve’s nose. “We can keep kissing if you want. Keep it PG. You just gotta back that juicy ass up and leave some room for the Holy Spirit!”

Steve cracks up and swats at Eddie’s chest. ”What are you, a middle school priest?”

“I suppose you could call me Father Eddie, but I’d prefer Daddy,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh my god!” They both dissolve into giggles, that turn into giddy kisses, that turn into playful wrestling, and soon they find themselves lying down down on the couch - Eddie tucked into the back cushions and Steve snuggled up to his chest. 

Steve lets out a content sigh, relishing in their arms and legs entwined around each other like a couple of octopuses. “This is nice. It’s really good to have you back in town, Eds. Do you think…maybe we could see each other again soon?”

Eddie kisses the top of his head and breathes him in. “You’re gonna have a hard time trying to get rid of me, sweetheart. I’ll come see you every day if you let me. And since you asked the last two times, now it’s my turn! Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Hmmmm…I don’t know. Do we get to trauma dump on each other? That’s the third date milestone, right?” 

Steve’s head bounces on Eddie’s chest as he giggles. “Oh absolutely. We’ll bear our souls and tell the most appalling secrets.”

Steve slowly lifts his head and stares at Eddie. “Did you just quote Little Women at me?”

“I sure did.”

“Amazing. The Winona Ryder one is the best. It’s weird, she kinda looks like Joyce.”

“Hot.”

“Ew that’s basically my mom.”

“Well, then, your mom is hot.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah I think you kinda like me.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks again. “Maybe I do. We should probably kiss about it.”

He tilts his head up and Eddie smiles into the kiss. Time escapes them as they slowly make out on the couch. It’s less intense than earlier, but just as eager as they explore each other with their lips and tongues and hands. 

They finally stop when Steve breaks the kiss to hold back a yawn.

“You tired honey?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I don’t want to stop but I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Why don’t I take off and you can get some sleep? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmm…that sounds good. I had a really great time, Eds. Thanks for coming over.”

“Sweetheart, I should be thanking you. That dinner was amazing, I don’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal that good. And those brownies? Holy shit.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “Let me box some up for you to take home.”

They untangle themselves from each other and head to the kitchen. Steve packs up some brownies and walks Eddie to the door. ”Thank you for the flowers Eddie. That was really sweet.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from Stevie. Just wait. I’m gonna spoil you rotten.” He leans in for one last lingering kiss and whispers to Steve’s lips, “Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Eds.”

He closes the door after watching Eddie walk away and slumps against it. That was perfect. Every moment, every look, every touch. 

Perfect.

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

*********************************************

I like comments! Taglist is open! I love you!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[xtarmanderx]

Jealous Luca

and

Rocker vs. Athena (Luca & Buck)

Pretty please ❤️❤️😊

Thank you😘

Okay so I actually only have a doc for the second one and there’s nothing in it BUT I do have ideas for both of them!

-

Jealous Luca!

I’m picturing Luca and the teams out for drinks - maybe even after one of their competitions. People patting Rocker on the back, congratulating him for a victory, and maybe a guy gets a little too comfortable near him. Luca is watching in the background, frowning, and his brain shorts out when the guy grabs Rocker by the arm and squeezes. Maybe he goes and corners Rocker in the bathroom later, asks what the hell he’s doing, and Rocker is a little stunned by it all. He has no idea what has Luca so worked up and clearly Luca doesn’t get it either until he’s suddenly cradling Rocker’s face and kissing him hard and fast. Rocker shakily asks him ‘what was that?’ and Luca doesn’t have an answer and he just kisses him again. They can’t get an uber out of there fast enough.

-

Rocker vs. Athena (Luca & Buck)

So this goes in my twins universe series. It’s just a rough idea, but basically the idea is that Luca and Buck hang out and day drink and make general nuisances out of themselves in public until someone calls the police. Cue Athena picking them both up and keeping them in the back of her squad car while she calls Tommy and Rocker to pick them up. There’s lots of sass between Rocker and Athena, especially since they’ve worked together before, and then lots of flirting between the couples because Buck is just so happy that Tommy is there and Rocker is borderline explicit with Luca when they’re talking because he loves how much it annoys Tommy.

[481mclarg]

Drunk together. | LN4

★ Let's get drunk together so I can kiss you and blame it on the vodka.

FANFIC + SMAU « Eng & Esp »

Lando Norris x Male!Oc Former Rider.

« K » I have this AU posted in Spanish on Wattpad as a oneshot, but adding a bit more SM to the SMAU I think it's too long, so I'll post it in a few parts.

Warnings: (mention) drunk sex. Suggestive content, idiots in love, lack of communication (?)

★ Chapters: One. | Two. | Three. | Four. | Five. | Six.

🇦🇷 Lucas Blondel as... EZEQUIEL TORRES.

📱 @/ezzetorres37

EZE . . . 28 y.o: 5 February '96. aquarius. » Moto3 champion 🏍🏆 ; retired Argentine rider 🏁🩺, injured; homosexual 🏳️‍🌈.

( + Pedro Acosta is the one in the photos used when talking about Eze's career & random guys from pinterest).

🇬🇧 Lando Norris as... LANDO NORRIS.

📱 @/landonorris

LAN . . . 25 y.o: 13 November '99. virgo. » 🧡McLaren Racing Limited driver ; 🇬🇧 current F1 british driver🏎🏁 ; bisexual ‼️.

December 2024.

          Mutual friends made Ezequiel Torres, a former rider retired after suffering an leg injury and current mechanic, meet the driver of the current Formula 1 constructors' champion team, Lando Norris.

          Everything Ezequiel knew about Formula cars was thanks to his friend, Sacha Fenestraz, who used to talk to him about his own races and watch other together when they managed to coincide their schedules and meet on weekends to eat.

          It wasn't his main interest, it had always been motorcycles. A passion inherited from his family. Nevertheless, he did not deny that the world of four wheels was just as captivating.

          Anyway, upon meeting Lando he never had to worry about only knowing the basics about Formula 1.

          The British spoke a lot. It was interesting to listen to him explain things about his races and cars, or when he told him his story of starting in the world of music and clubs, what it was like to be a DJ, about streams... Each talk ended up deviating from the initial topic, when they spoke always branched off easily, especially in the clubs full of people dancing and enjoying the rhythm of what Lando played.

          Alcohol was always present, helping them blend into the environment and lose the little shame they had.

          Sacha introduced them. He knew his friends well; he knew they would hit it off immediately. He also accompanied them on the second time going to a club; on the third, was Torres who invited only Norris to "somewhere."

          He didn't have a plan in mind. With his friend now in Japan, he was almost lost in the cold English winter.

          The youngest had heard about a new place in the area near his house, but far from where Ezequiel rented an apartment.

(Ezequiel: You are quite annoying/stubborn, you know?)

          Convincing him wasn't difficult, although he debated whether accepting had been the right thing to do, feeling that something inside him. A kind of nervousness and excitement mixed. He didn't want the time to leave for Lando's house to come, but he didn't want to wait any longer either.

          That dilemma repeated during dinner. He hated the idea of ​​having to kill time before going to the club, but he also hated having to cut off at some point the conversation they had while they were eating on the couch, watching a movie.

          He felt comfortable; he had a great time with Norris. He could stay up all night watching TV with him, if they decided to change plans.

          In the end, neither of them spoke, so they called the Uber and had a couple of drinks before leaving. A little bit of alcohol, so they were still pretty sober when they arrived at the club. However, just the atmosphere was enough to help them blend into the vibes of the place.

          Dance and sing song after song, ordering bottle after bottle. Approaching to the other with no dissimulation but they didn't care. At that point, nothing but the other man mattered to them.

          Nothing but Lando's eyes was important to Ezequiel at that moment. He tried to decipher each different hue, learning how different lights affected its color; sometimes more bluish, other times it had greener tones, he swore he had even found some brown in them.

          As if his changing eyes weren't enough, he also had hundreds of moles on his skin that he could spend hours counting, drawing imaginary lines joining them, forming their own constellations. Outlining with the tip of his finger, delicate, under Lando's attentive gaze.

          Lando let him watch his body, moving his hand up to his dark hair. So soft that it seemed a shame he kept it so short. He had the opportunity to smell the aroma of his shampoo before, and he believed he had become addicted.

          The growth of a beard from a couple of days that always remained the same. He almost envied how well the facial hair looked on him.

          Going over the tattoos on his arms, outlining them while Ezequiel continued caressing his face. Being in an area further away from the dance floor, they didn't care much about being seen.

          Nothing mattered to them at that point.

          They couldn't take it anymore. The alcohol was beginning to be too much, the people were so noisy, the music was annoying and the heat was oppressive. Torres called another vehicle to take them to Norris' house, and in a few minutes, they were back in the brit's couch, trying to recover a little before being able to put their minds in order.

          —You're pretty. —He slurred his words, but spoke with conviction, needing to let his thoughts out, thoughts that did not come from his mind, but from the bottom of his heart.

          —And you're drunk —Ezequiel said, fighting not to let the blood rise to his cheeks or the corners of his lips to curl upward. —, talking nonsense. —he murmured, with a slightly failed accent, but understandable to Lando.

          —Drunks always tell the truth. —he replied, shaking his head almost exaggeratedly, having to rest it on the backboard of the couch to stop the dizziness. —It's just... confidence. The drunk's confidence to-... not think 'bout the consequences. Don't overthink.—

          — ¿Puedo aprovechar la confianza del borracho yo también? —he asked, not bothering to think about the translation. (Can I take advantage of the drunk's confidence too?)

          —You can- You can do whatever you want with me. —he nodded. He begged, rather, cautiously approaching one of his arms until he reached the older man's shoulder. Seeing that he didn't flee from his touch, he added his second arm, hanging around his neck.

          The suffocating smell of whiskey and fernet mixed in that small space between them followed them to the bedroom, already melted into a mixture of alcohol and desperation.

          Knots tied in their stomachs, a combination of nervousness and excitement. They gave their partner full permission to explore their body as much as they wanted, but at the same time they were afraid to do so.

          With the help of a bottle of champagne that Norris had taken, they chased away those concerns, surrendering to the warmth of others with total confidence.

          Sore, tired, sticky, wet bodies. A neat and meticulously maintained bed that ended up ruined. Feelings on the surface, taking advantage of every second to shout out what would be repressed in the morning. Marks they would hide, questions they would avoid answering, looks from which they would flee.

          An uncomfortable goodbye, a tortuous trip, and desperate calls that they cut off before they could even explain what was happening to them.

          Because not even they knew it.

          A second night that began awkwardly, with clear tension between the two sober men, ended just as intimate between the two drunk men.

          A third, a fourth. His friends were already suspicious of his disappearances in the middle of the night. It couldn't be a coincidence that as soon as the alcohol entered their systems, they disappeared.

          «What's going on between you two?» «Nothing!» Sacha would have loved to record his calls with both of them. How they began to justify accusations that he never made. "Defend yourself just in case." They knew their friends were suspicious; as if they were going to judge them at some point.

          After the fifth time, on a Saturday, Lando managed to wake up first. Close to the start of the Formula 1 season, his schedules were beginning to become stricter.

          That morning he got up and made breakfast. Ezequiel couldn't refuse the food, and until he drank at least one coffee, Lando wouldn't let him leave.

          The sixth ended with Torres waking up the next day, Sunday, back between Lando's sheets. The Argentine had been the first again, and unable to leave the bed, he waited in a silence that drove him crazy for the British to open his eyes.

          He had thought of a thousand and more ways to say goodbye, trying to choose the least uncomfortable one for that situation. In the end, he didn't need it. The brunette let him continue caressing his disheveled curls, with both of them allowing themselves for the first time to enjoy each other's warmth.

          Their first sober kiss was also that morning. Tangled in the mess that was the bed, buried between pillows and blankets, seeking each other's warmth. They had feared this so much, and rightly so, because now they felt unable to let the other go.

          The seventh occurred between China and Japan. A new world was opened to them among the streets of Suzuka.

          Sacha witnessed all those small gestures that they believed were imperceptible. Their hands swinging exaggeratedly to gently touch each other, walking together to brush shoulders, clinging to each other in the crowds, seeking the other's gaze when laughing.

          So obvious. Two fools in love; too in love to separate, but too stupid to dare to move forward.

          Norris spent the race weekend at the hotel where Torres had booked. Two different rooms, they excused themselves, but one of the doors wasn’t opened.

          The fact that the hotel staff almost caught them brought them back down to earth. They were no longer on vacation; it was no longer Lando's house or Ezequiel's apartment. It was no longer as easy to hide.

          Bahrain and Saudi Arabia were a resounding no. Miami was impossible to match, something that both regretted, because then Italy, Monaco and Spain did not give Lando time to breathe.

          Despite maintaining contact, the messages no longer filled that void. They also didn't need alcohol or physical contact. At least not the one they were used.

          It was difficult for them to understand that discomfort in their hearts, that absence and "sudden" feeling of loneliness. They felt alone, but they didn't need just anyone, they missed each other's warmth, their company, their simple presence.

          Giving the other one last kiss before falling asleep, and the first one in the morning. Sharing breakfast in complete calm, jostling each other for trying to brush their teeth at the same time, seeing the marks they had left on each other's skin while they ran to get dressed, finishing fixing details on the other's clothes before they went out into the street.

          They missed each other. They missed more than they thought they were capable of feeling.

           Their eighth time was after Spain. Lando was stressed about the championship, and not understanding his emotions only added more weight to his back. He thought he would have the courage to tell Ezequiel about his discomfort, perhaps ask for advice or at least be listen.

          In the end, he lived a week in such a warm silence that he preferred never to bring up such a delicate topic on the table. He preferred to remain silent, ignore the knot in his stomach that was getting bigger, to try to enjoy the company.

          He focused so much on acting normal and hiding his problems, that he didn't notice that Torres wasn't as active as always. A man who rarely sat still, who hated silence and doing nothing, was there, moving from the bed to the couch and from the couch to the bed.

          Since Lando didn't speak, he didn't either.

          They played music that superficially covered the silence, but it did not fill the emptiness they felt. The sporadic kisses, hugs and restless nights no longer had the same effect as before. It wasn't enough.

          They both had that discomfort stuck in their throats, but with a drink of their favorite alcohol, they digested it, before getting lost again in the other's touch.

481MCLARG | 14 . 01 . 2025 | CORREGIDO.

[fuctacles]

B-listers, Slashers, and Porn: The Movie Marathon Pyramid

Late for @strangetober 29th "slasher" bc i cant read calendars starting with Sunday 😩😩😩 also @stevieweek & "This is what you're doing on Halloween?"

M/E | ~4k | Steddissy/Hellcheer/Cheerscoops/Steddie | transfem!Stevie, transmasc!Eddie, FanslyModel!Chrissy, open relationship, sex work | Part 1/2 and a continuation of this | Ao3

"No way this is what you're doing on Halloween." Eddie frowns at his friend's streaming schedule. "Really?"

"Hey, it's okay if you're busy. I'm not expecting you to mod at my every whim. Someone else will be free or I'll just survive one day without. I'm not expecting a huge turn out anyway."

"Because everyone already has plans," he nods along. "Yeah, but why you don't?" He frowns. 

"I do?" Stevie sounds confused over his speakers. "We're talking about them right now." 

Eddie wishes he was on camera so she could see the impressive eye roll that Max had taught him.

"With friends, dumbass. Not a bunch of simps who want to catch your heart attack live. There's a thousand parties you could go to instead!"

Stevie sighs. 

"Everyone already has something and I don'want to go partying with strangers. I'd rather sit at home and play games, honestly," she admits. 

Eddie is, to put it lightly, deadly offended. 

"You didn't ask me," he points out. 

"You live in a different state, man." 

"So does Lucas!"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm not seeing him either!" 

"Well, consider yourself invited. I'll pay for your ticket if I have to."

"What? No--"

"We've been already planning a lazy movie marathon with Chris and you are more than welcome to join."

"That doesn't sound like you. A cozy night in? On Halloween?" Stevie wonders out loud. "Is this a trap? Have you been body snatched?"

"Dude, I've been working on so much shit this month I just want to kick back and relax," Eddie sighs, grimacing at the thought of everything he still has to do before the day of rest. 

"Shit, right, you're releasing that new EP this month!" 

"Yep. So for twenty-four hours, I want to shut myself in and not look at any social media, any music charts, or any emails from my manager. Phone off, Netflix on."

Stevie hums thoughtfully. 

"Will the rest of the band be there?"

Eddie smirks. 

"Just say you want to see Gareth again," he teases. "No, we've spent so much time in the studio for this EP I can't look at their ugly mugs anymore. No, it's just me and Chrissy this time. And now you, of course."

"Ed, if you want to spend this time together, you don't have to invite me."

"You think I'm doing this for you?" He raises his eyebrows at the tiny icon on his screen that represents his friend. "This is for my peace of mind. But mostly for Chrissy, honestly, she won't shut up about you," he groans. 

"Really?" Stevie asks in a small voice, sounding genuinely surprised. 

"Don't you dare play coy now, you seduced my girlfriend with your athletic body and now she wants me to drink protein shakes!"

Stevie bursts out laughing. 

"I'm sorry?" she offers.

"I'll accept your sorries only if you join us for an evening of bad horrors and spiked hot chocolate."

"Deal."

Stevie has the Uber app open and is typing in her destination address when a piercing whistle splits the air. She winces but ignores it as any other time. 

"Hey, babygirl!"

For once, she reacts to the catcalling, as the voice sounds familiar. Her eyes widen.

"Oh, you fucking idiot!" she hisses, which results in her long-distance friend cackling in amusement. Stevie storms to the car he's leaning against, a black van with a demon painted on the side. 

"Hi, sweetheart." He give her his best sleazy smile and leans in to kiss her on the cheek. She doesn't protest but she does roll her eyes. 

"You could have told me you'd pick me up."

"And ruin the surprise? Nuh-uh." He shakes his head.

Stevie sighs. She knows Eddie dropping the theatrics is as likely as Hell freezing over. 

"Well, lead me to your lair, then."

He lights up, prying the bag from her hand while he opens the door. 

"Take a seat, milady, I'll drop your luggage in the back," he says with a small, courteous bow.

The drive passes with Eddie drilling her about her favorite movies and the snacks they are missing. She assures him all she needs is a nap and a warm meal, and he dutifully drives her to her destination. 

Eddie's house is small, a place he's renting right now but planning to buy if money lets him. He opens up the door, Stevie's bag hauled over his shoulder, and yells out:

"Chris! We have a guest!'

Stevie eyes him warily. 

"You told her I'm coming, right?"

Eddie only grins. Then, a shriek rings through the house. 

"Stevie!"

Chrissy throws herself at the girl, and thank gods for their athletic reflexes, because it could end up on the floor otherwise. 

"Hi Chris," Stevie smiles, holding the girl close. It's been months since they saw each other. 

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Chrissy asks with a pout. 

"To be fair, I was sure you knew about this until five seconds ago."

They both look at Eddie, but he's already gone from his spot. There is a clatter of dishes coming from the direction of the kitchen, though.

"Bastard is trying to placate me with food," she hisses, adjusting Chrissy's legs more securely around her hips before she walks towards the sound.

"And here I was wondering why he made his signature stew," Chrissy sighs against her ear. Stevie chuckles. 

"Well, at least he knows what works on me."

They enter the kitchen to find Eddie stirring the thick dish in the pot.

"Hello ladies," he smiles with the obliviousness of an experienced jester. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Stevie admits reluctantly, placing  Chrissy on the counter. "It smells good," she says, her hands resting on her friend's thighs. She can see Eddie's eyes lingering there. 

"Chrissy doesn't like it too spicy, but I can add some extra chilli flakes to your bowl," he says, refocusing on the food. "Wanna try it?" he asks, raising up the wooden spoon. 

"Sure," Stevie shrugs, and watches mesmerized as he gently blows on it before raising it to her mouth.

"How is it?" 

"It's good as it is," she decides, licking her lips to catch everything. "Can I help with something?" she asks, already looking around the kitchen for something to do.

"You can grab the bowls. They're in the cupboard above Chrissy."

Instead of letting her jump off the counter, Stevie picks her up again and relocates further away, to the girl's delight.

Then she opens the cupboard and her eyes light up when she finds their pumpkin-shaped bowls

"Oh my god I love these! You guys are such dorks," she grins, while pulling them out.

"Wait til you see the Garfield tea set," Chrissy smiles back. 

"Where is it?!" 

The stew gets forgotten for a long while, all of Stevie's focus now on ploundering through her friends' cupboards. She finds not only the Garfield tea set, but also matching plates and a lunchbox. There's also a whole shelf dedicated to ornate chalices and tankards. 

"Is this a real horn?"

"Sure is," Eddie grins proudly. "Metal as fuck, isn't it?" 

"Can I have a beer in it later?"

"Absolutely," he laughs, picking up the bowls. "Now come eat."

Stevie gets distracted again with her spoon, its handle shaped like vines, but eventually she digs into the stew. 

"This is good," she praises with an appreciative hum. "Just knowing you, I'd never let you loose in a kitchen."

Chrissy snorts into her bowl and starts choking, which doesn't faze Eddie, who just passes her a glass of water and pats her back. 

"And you'd be right, because I've put all my culinary skills into three dishes I can execute perfectly, and everything else is a biohazard," he grins like it's something to be proud of. Which, in a way, might be. 

"Well, everything I cook tastes kind of bland, so maybe your method is the way to go," stevie shrugs at that, eyeing Chrissy's watery eyes. She seems to have gotten a hold on herself for the time being.

After eating, despite Stevie's flight and the late hour, they start up Scream and hang out with mugs of steaming tea in hands. Eddie had vetoed booze right before bed and the girls reluctantly agreed. They argue the movie list for their actual marathon, as it needs cheesy slashers for Chrissy, outdated special effects for Stevie, and ridiculous plots for Eddie. 

"Terrifier," Chrissy declares like there was no arguing with her. There wasn't, but her friends would try anyway.

"You guys need to see the one with a possessed Christmas tree."

"The Haunting!" Stevie pitches in. 

The list grows and grows and they reluctantly agree to roll a dice on the marathon day to decide the watching order. 

"You can have my bed and I'll sleep with Eddie tonight, okay?" Chrissy asks once the credits starts rolling and Stevie is dozing off, bundled into a spare blanket. The girl blnks at her sleepily. 

"Okay," she says slowly with a frown. "You guys don't share a bedroom?"

"He snores," Chrissy winces like the sole idea appalls her. "And we both like our space. We usually share a bed anyway, just swap between rooms."

"I can take the couch," Stevie offers. "I don't want to hog your space like that."

"Don't worry about it" Chrissy waves her off. "We can switch around later. Now," she stands up to grab her hand. "Do you have enough energy for a shower or would you rather go straight to bed."

"Straght to bed, please," Stevie whines, letting her friend haul her up. 

"Bed it is then, princess," she agrees, slowly leading her upstairs.

"Eddie's rubbing off on you," Stevie says with a wide smile.

"Yeah, he does that a lot," her friend smirks back and they giggle as she opens the right door. "Here's my room. Eddie's is the one opposite door, and at the end you'll find the bathroom. Left door, right one is the office," she explains while pointing along. "You'll find clean towels in the cupboard. Do you need anything? T-shirt to sleep in?" she asks, pushing gently so Stevie sits on her bed. Her sheets are dark green, matching the plants littering the room. 

Stevie has her own pyjama's but like hell is she going to pass on the opportunity to wear her hot friend's clothes.

"Yes, please. Would it be okay if I slept in just pants?" she asks as well. 

Chrissy snorts.

"Totally. Eddie usually sleeps completely naked so don't be surprised if you run into his white ass on a midnight snack trip," she grins. "And I don't wear pants to sleep, just longer shirts. You want long or short ones?"

For a second, Stevie's lost wondering what she's gotten herself into, but she quickly remembers what her friend is asking about. 

"Short," she decides, watching Chrissy open the top drawer of her dresser. The blonde hums as she goes through its contents. 

"Would this be okay? I can look through Eddie's stuff," she offers, presenting a pair of soft shorts patterned in ice cream cones. 

Stevie raises her eyebrows. 

"Is this on purpose?" 

Chrissy looks down at the shorts, before chuckling at the unintentional Scoops Ahoy reference. 

"I swear it's not. It's the first ones I saw that would fit."

Stevie takes them in hand and inspects the width and give of the elastic. 

"They should be fine, thank you," she smiles. 

"Of course, honey. I'm gonna take a shower, you can exploit Eddie in the meantime." 

He has been left in the kitchen cleaning up after their dinner and preparing for tomorrow's breakfast. 

"As tempting as it is, I'm sure I'll be out as soon as I lay down," Stevie chuckels. The hours spend travelling and catching up with her friends were finally taking their toll. 

"Well, in that case good night, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Stevie answers tiredly, missing the moment when Chrissy leans down and pecks her on the lips. She barely manages to process that fact, before the doors close behind her friend. She smiles to herself before undressing for bed to finally get some rest. 

Stevie's out to the word until late morning the next day, but thankfully, her hosts aren't early birds either. When she gingerly walks downstairs, she's greeted by the sight of the two drinking coffee and making pancakes. Eddie notices her first and waves to her with his spatula. 

"Good morning! I'll have fresh pancakes for you in a minute. How did you sleep?"

"Like an undead," she yawns, beelining for her forgotten bag, where she has a fresh t-shirt to change into. She does so right there, and when she turns back towards the kitchen, her friends act like civilized beings that didn't just ogle her tits. She graciously decides not to call them out for it. 

When she sits next to Chrissy, the girl murmurs an indecipherable greeting, pressing her arm against hers. Stevie gathers her getly against her side. 

"Eddie, you could spare your girlfriend some energy, she's wilting here!"

He turns away from the stove to huff at her. 

"She'd have more energy if she wasn't gathering fruit on her phone until two am," he counters, crossing his arms. His morning outfit consists of an apron tied around his bare chest, a pair of boxers and nothing else. Stevie's never seen all his tattoos out in the open. 

"I like the beholder tattoo," she says.

"Do not," Eddie points his spatula at her. "Talk nerd in the kitchen. It makes me horny and Chrissy said kitchen is off limits," he pouts. 

Stevie snorts, and rests her head against Chrissy. 

"Sorry, I'll keep it to the bedroom next time."

"Thank you," Eddie nods gratefully. "How do you want your coffee?"

"Just a bit of milk, please."

It must have been waiting for her already, beacuse she gets a steaming mug put in front of her just seconds later. 

"Thank you," she sighs, sipping on the coffee. She got it in one of the Garfield mugs, too.

"Of course. And here are yor pancakes. Pick your poison." After putting a stack of pancakes in front of her, he pushes maple syrup, butter and nutella towards her.

"Oh my god. This is the best breakfast I've had since I visited Claudia." 

Eddie laughs at that. 

"Don't get used to it. Tomorrow it's Chrissy's turn on breakfast and she's usually so out of it she can mistake salt for sugar." 

To that, Chrissy flips him the bird, meaning she's at least processing the conversation happening around her. She can also smell the food, and steals a pancake from Stevie's plate to gingerly nibble on. 

"I can help out," Stevie offers, nuzzling her nose against Chrissy's cheek before she straightens up to dig into the breakfast. "What's the plan for today?" she asks while slapping some butter on her pancakes. 

Eddie hums thoughtfully as he pours batter on the pan. "We have all the candy we should need for trick-or-treaters, but we're short on vegetables for pumpkin soup. So think of anything you'd want to eat, we'll make a grocery list, and hit the farmer's market."

Stevie gives him a thumbs up, since her mouth is already stuffed with pancakes. 

The afternoon is spent arguing about the quality of pumpkins offered at the stalls, and what is the ultimate fall soup. It's a level of comfort and easiness Stevie usually feels only around Robin. 

She's not much of a cook, so when Eddie starts on the soup, she joins him in the kitchen, eager to learn. Which translates to her drinking wine and asking a lot of questions while hanging off his shoulder.

"How long do you need to cook the broth?" she asks, unknowingly breathing wine into his air. 

"At least a couple of hours," he answers patiently. "My mom used to leave it simmering for the whole night, though."

Stevie frowns. 

"Sounds like a fire hazard."

Eddie laughs at that. 

"Yeah, a lot of things weren't a concern twenty years ago."

"Yeah, like condoms, considering you're here," she snickers and gets swatted away for her comedic efforts. 

"What, you're not grateful for my existence? Bold words for someone being guested and fed in my home."

"That is not a word," she says with a frown, though being friends with Robin made her second guess her knowledge of the dictionary.

"It is now! Now, would my guest put her wine aside and peel the garlic?"

"Yes, chef," she salutes and accepts the ingredients handed to her. She manages to convince Eddie she's still sober enough to help him chop the vegetables as well. 

"Ohh, he let you hold a knife?" Chrissy walks into the kitchen a moment later and pouts at her boyfriend. "He never lets me help with aything."

"Lies and slander!" Eddie exclaims at that accusation. "You can do literally anything else. Baby, you can even operate a blowtorch, but a knife in her hand," he turns to Stevie for that part, pointing a spoon at Chrissy. "Is like a fidget toy made out of razor blades."

Stevie, though, focuses on the important part.

"You have a blowtorch?"

Eddie groans, but Chrissy is more than happy to show her the little thing they use to toast the marshmallows for their hot cocoa and chocolate. Of course, this ends up with her making some for all of them. Stevie is the one to chop up the chocolate, though. 

The porch has been decorated and all the candy is waiting near the door, because they didn't bother putting it in the cupboards. The food is mostly done, and the movies they agreed on have been found and added to the watch list, so on the actual Halloween the next day, all they have left to do is chill, open the door, compilment kids' costumes, and take in the spooky vibe. As soon as they take out their pies from the oven, they can start on the festivities. 

Or so it seems.

"Shit," Eddie suddenly widens his eyes in the middle of the kitchen.

"What?" Chrissy bends down to peek into the oven, but everything seems fine there. "What is it?"

"What about the costumes?" he looks at her, genuinely alarmed. She frowns at him. 

"We've been over this? You're Crowley and I'm Aziraphale."

"Well, yeah, but now Stevie is here!"

Chrissy looks at the girl with the same therror as her boyfriend, which almost makes her snort out her wine. Which would be horribly wasteful, since she got hers in the horn as promised. 

"Ah, no worries, you've been babbling about the costumes for so long I had enough time to find a white turtleneck and a fly plushie, and the grey suit should be delivered here in the morning." She waves her hand dismissively, but Eddie is anything but dismissive about Halloween costumes. He gapes at his friend in disbelief. 

"I though you haven't seen Good Omens?"

"After all the fuss you made about it?" She rolls her eyes. "Please. I just didn't tell you because you'd freak out about it, and you're talking my ear off as it is." She smiles fondly despite her words. 

"You prepared a matching costume," he says, still in his nerdy trance. 

"Well, yeah? Didn't want to be left out." 

"I'm sorry I didn't think about it myself," he says, looking so guilt-stricken, she was worried he might pick up a knife and commit seppuku at any moment. 

"It's okay, man, you're so good at improvising--"

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie interrupts her, his eyes sparkling in that insane daze she recognised by now from having one too many autistic nerds as friends. 

"Uh," she looks to Chrissy for support, but she seems mildly exasperated at best, focusing more on the pies in the oven than their exchange. It was about time to take them out. 

"I guess so?" Stevie offers in the end, and watches Eddie put away his beer, like kissing her required his full attention. With the focus she could see on his face she would think it did. 

She can't exactly put her horn away. It needs a designated stand to stay upright, and it's somewhere on the kitchen counter behind them. So, in support of her friend's actions, she just puts her free hand on his hip and angles her head when she feels his palm against her cheek. 

His lips are slightly chapped from the autumn cold, and she can remember Chrissy's complaints about him consistently losing every chapstick she buys him. Stevie makes a note to get him a whole shipment of those for Christmas. She likes the lips that kiss her to be soft. 

Other than that, he's almost ridiculously gentle, unlike the persona he puts on for the world to see. It's easy to imagine him making out with someone, with Chrissy, for hours without getting bored. 

But Stevie likes more, so she parts her lips and pulls his hip closer to her. They both get lost in their impromptu make-out session until the smell of fresh pie reaches their nostrils. Eddie pulls away first, sniffing the air, and when Stevie follows his lead, Chrissy bursts out laughing at their accidental synchronization.

"It's too hot to eat, sorry," she spreads her hands apologetically. "But I have some cookies for the meantime." 

They move apart to dive into the jar of chocolate chip cookies that's presented to them. With pies cooling on the rack and cookies in their hands, they relocate to the living room to play one of the movies from their list. They pick a mindless slasher to turn off their brains after a day of cooking and other preparations.

The conversatiom focuses on the characters' bad choices and the highly unrealistic injuries, until two girls start making-out on screen.

"You know I've never watched your video?" Eddie says then, unprompted. 

Stevie and Chrissy turn to him in unison. 

"What?"

"Really?'

Eddie shrugs at their bewildered stares. 

"I don't know, it felt weird. I never saw Stevie in such, uh, circumstances, and she's paying me, so..." he trails off and shrugs again. "You know I don't watch all of your stuff," he adds, almost defensively.

"Which is very unsupportive of you," she says with an exaggerated pout so he knows she's joking. 

"I'm not watching you get fucked in those shitty amazon costumes, those are an insult to cosplayers worldwide!" he says and it sounds like something he's complained about before. "And did you have to do Jarley? You know we ship Harlivy in this house!"

Chrissy looks like she's doing her best not to laugh and Stevie's barely holding on herself. 

"I'm sorry, you know I couldn't find the right girl in time. And I've already made scenes with Gareth--"

"The fact that he agreed to this is even worse!"

Stevie presses a hand over her lips this time, to muffle her laugh. Eddie glowers at her over Chrissy's shoulder when she reaches for the remote. 

"Wanna watch it now?" she asks, already pausing the movie.

"What?"

"We're all here now, so it's not gonna be weird," Chrissy says, exiting out of the streaming platform. Her friends seem too stunned to stop her. 

"Or it will be extra weird," Eddie points out, but his girlfriend only waves him off. 

"Psh, like we haven't watched my videos before." As if to prove that, her Fansly pops up instantly once she opens the browser. "So?" She looks left and right at her company, waiting for the green light from them.

Like Eddie could ever say no faced with the cover photo of her page--her naked, delicate body covered up by a sword blade. 

"Sure," Stevie shrugs, and Eddie nods along.

"Yeah, let's do it."

[morganbritton132]

I really love the EMTTS and every update is making my day, so thank you for being great!

I keep thinking about the shared calendar posts and have wanted to ask about it since the first post so long ago. I know it's been mentioned how annoying it is for Steve when it's not used in the way he hoped, but has there ever been a situation where it was really genuinely bad? Like, a lot of drama could've been avoided if it had been used properly? And did the kids and Eddie then feel bad about misusing it/start using it the way Steve intended? I know it drives me crazy when people intentionally ignore/misuse stuff like that that I set up. What's Steve's reaction? AHHH, so many questions!

Don't worry about answering, just do it whenever you have time and feel motivated :) Hope you have a lovely day/night!

It’s not that people don’t use the shared calendar. It’s just that they don’t use it in the way that Steve wants them to.

Like, for example, Lucas has no problem putting his work schedule into the calendar at the beginning of the month, but he never remembers to put when he picks up shifts. Robin will input her class schedule at the beginning of a semester but not her ever-changing office hours. Dustin uses the calendar frequently but he is always vague about what he’s doing (i.e. he puts ‘Moon’ instead of stargazing) and Mike blocks out time slows when he busy but never says what he’s doing.

Steve wants to know where everybody is at all times and what they’re doing. Is that a little unrealistic? Yes, and Steve can acknowledge that. But it’s still frustrating when he misses something because it was mentioned to him once and he forgot.

But also, Steve can’t drive.

He is very reliant on his friends and family. Especially because up to a couple years ago, Eddie still traveled quite a lot. Steve’s gotten better over the years at acknowledging that he needs help and asking for it, but it is a lot harder to inconvenience someone.

Steve doesn’t like Uber or any of the ride-sharing apps. It feels unsafe because he knows that there are moments where he loses time and he’s not quite in his head. There are times when he gets stuck in the fog or lost in a bad memory, and he knows that he can be reactionary. His friends know how to walk him out of that and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt a stranger or get hurt, or get lost.

Steve carpools to school, but there have been times where that’s fallen through and he ends up feeling like he’s bothering someone because he didn’t know that they had plans already. Eddie was out of town once and Steve had a doctor’s appointment, but everybody he texted was busy so he just canceled it. He ran out of his migraine medication but turns out half their friends were at a concert so he dealt with the fallout alone.

It all kind of comes to a head one evening.

Steve is the person that plans most of their game nights and their get-togethers. They’re typically hosted at his and Eddie’s house and Steve puts a lot of effort into planning them. There’s a Saturday that no one has marked with anything, so he gets up that morning and plans a game night. He bakes and he cooks. He cleans the whole house and gets out their board games. He even sets the table for D&D even though he hardly ever plays with them.

Then Eddie tells him that he has a plane to catch. They talked about it the other day. Don’t you remember? And Dustin’s busy. He has a date. He literally told Steve about it. Mike and Will have had these plans for weeks and Max and El are at a spa. Lucas is visiting Erica in DC. He said he was going to last week, remember?

Robin is swamped with work and Nancy’s not even in town and apparently hasn’t been all week. She sent that text in the groupchat about it, remember?

And it’s frustrating.

Steve knows that it’s kinda dumb to plan a party and expect people to show up on the same day, but that’s how it’s always been, and it’s – it feels like he’s being called stupid when everybody keeps asking him if he remembers. He obviously didn’t.

All it takes is for Eddie to ask him what’s wrong for Steve to snap. He’s frustrated and he’s annoyed, and he’s a little mean about it because Eddie is the worst about using the calendar. He just says things and expects that Steve is going to remember them, and it feels like they’re making fun of him. It feels like he’s standing outside the room that they’re all in and they’re laughing at him because he doesn’t know how to get inside.

“And it’s going to get worse,” Steve says, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I’m just going to keep forgetting and everybody is going to move on, and it’s going to be like I’m not even a part of it anymore.”

“Baby, that’s never going to happen. I – We won’t let that happen. It’s just one mess up.”

“It’s already happening! You already do it.”

Eddie ends up missing his flight because he’s not going to leave Steve when he’s upset like this. He’s supposed to be working on the backing tracks for an album he’s producing, but there’s tomorrow or maybe the day after that. He does end up sending out a text to the other party members, letting them know that they’ve got to make an effort to use the calendar more. 

[toasttt11]

reunited

December 14, 2023

Gemma grabbed all of bags off the airport conveyer belt, she had just landed in Toronto being home for two days.

Gemma originally was suppose to be on a plane right now on the way to Sweden and she wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Blue Jackets at The Leafs game to be able to see Adam playing in the NHL at their home stadium.

Gemma luckily asked her coach if she could come two days later and be able to watch her brother play in the NHL for the first time.

Obviously she got the okay and immediately booked her ticket to come home and she contacted the Blue Jackets media team to keep her ticket that Adam had originally gotten for her and made sure no one knew she was coming to see him play.

Gemma got an uber to her child hood home and carried all of her bags up into her room and luckily for her, her family had already left for the game. Gemma quickly put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue hoodie with Adam’s jersey over and slipped a pair of black converse on.

Gemma called for a cab to take her to the stadium. She paid the fee and walked up to the stadium through the crowds of people, she scanned her ticket and headed to her section and she smiled seeing many people that she knows in the section and saw her parents, Luca and Nick sitting in a row and a seat empty next to her dad.

She walked down the the stairs quietly not catching anyone’s attention and walked into the row her ticket was at, “Is this seat taken?” Gemma softly questioned making her parents and Luca heads all snap up to her.

“Gems!” Her dad happily exclaimed pulling his only daughter in a tight hug.

“Hi Dad.” Gemma giggled and hugged him back before letting go and hugging her mother tightly.

“My Gem.” Her mother happily cooed as she held her youngest in her arms before letting her go to Luca.

“Hi Lu.” Gemma smiled widely at her big brother, Luca smiled shaking his head in disbelief pulling his baby sister into a tight hug.

“I missed you.” Luca whispered into his sister’s ear, truthfully this year was weird for Luca being completely alone without either of his siblings for the first time in his life.

“I missed you too.” Gemma whispered back hugging him tighter.

Luca reluctantly let her go letting her go hug Nick, “Hi Nicky.” Gemma smiled and hugged her past teammate.

“Hi little Fants.” Nick smiled hugging her back.

Gemma stepped back after the hug seeing her parents scoot down a seat so she could sit between Luca and her mom, Gemma smiled softer at them and sat down having her mother immediately hold her hand.

“I thought you were heading to Sweden right now.” Julia softly questioned her daughter, knowing that her husband and her were planning to join their daughter with Luca coming with after Christmas.

“I was but Coach let me come two days later so i could come to the game.” Gemma explained to her family, squeezing her mother’s hand back.

“We’re glad you’re here.” Giuliano smiled softly at his young daughter, Gemma sent him a smile back.

Gemma smiled cheering as she saw Adam get into the ice for warmups, she smiled at her brother when she noticed Adam seeing her and she waved softly to her brother as Adam shook his head in disbelief smiling widely and waving back at his sister.

The Blue Jackets won 6-5.

Adam got dressed after the game and hurried to the section where his family and friends were all at, he smiled as he walked up the stairs in shock seeing so many people that ending up coming to support him.

He hugged both his parents, Luca and Nick and saw Gemma waiting patiently and Adam tackled her into a tight hug.

“Hi.” Adam voice cracked slightly, Adam has been able to see Luca and his parents more than he has seen Gemma and he hasn’t seen her since she went back to school months ago and it was the longest they have gone with out seeing each other.

“Hi.” Gemma whispered out hugging her brother just as tightly back hating that they haven’t seen each other in so long.

They pulled apart and shared a look and they both grabbed one of Luca’s arm pulling him into a hug, the three all let out an identical sighs as they were all reunited again and all together.

Giuliano and Julia shared a soft look enjoying seeing their kids all together again.