#and I have now realized that asks had been off and turned them on whoops

[sexiestfinweanpoll]

While the semi-finals for sexiest Finwean are underway, I'd like to offer you a preview of what's coming next to this blog! It will continue, but with a slightly different theme.

Instead of going with sexiest scion of Finwe, we are going with sexist member by marriage of the house of Finwe.

I am taking a rather expansive view of the word "marriage", allowing anyone who a member of the house of Finwe dated, was engaged to, or attempted to court as well.

Also, I have heard your complaints that the art in the first poll wasn't sexy enough! I am posting the list now, but polls will not open until June 12. That mean you have over a week to submit your favorite image of these characters!

List of Finwean spouses is below the cut. If you think someone is missing from the list, please send an ask!

Miriel

Indis

Nerdanel

Anaire

Amarie

Earwen

Eldalote

Celeborn

Elenwe

Eol

Tuor

Elwing

Elrond

Celebrian

Beor

Gwindor

Aragorn

Turin

Andreth

EDIT: adding Luthien

EDIT: Narvi

EDIT: Hador

[steveseddie]

my heart burns there too

steddie | rating: t | wc: 4,7k | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, light angst, pining, eddie jumps into some crazy ass conclusions, but it’s all good in the end

for @steddie-spooktober day eight, prompt “bonfire”

read on ao3 here

The bonfire is Robin’s idea, but Steve is who extends the invitation to Eddie when he stops by Family Video one day.

“A bonfire? Won’t that get us arrested?” He asks, leaning on the counter and watching Steve operate the tape rewinder with a bored expression.

“Nah, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “Hopper is Chief again and you’d be surprised by how easy it is to get him off your back if you play the ‘I fought monsters with your kid’ card.”

Eddie lets out a snort. “Wish I had that all those times that he picked me up for dealing.”

Steve sniggers. The tape rewinder makes a loud clicking sound, signaling that it’s finished, and Steve removes the tape, putting it back in its case before rewinding a new one. “So are you in?”

“Sure,” Eddie says, never one to turn down the opportunity to spend time with Steve— and Robin, of course. “But I’m not holding hands with you and Buckley and singing Kumbaya.”

For some reason, that makes Steve blush. He ducks his head, fiddling with another tape. “Um, well, it’s not just us, Nance is coming too.”

Ah, Eddie thinks, now the blush makes more sense.

He tries not to let his disappointment show. He doesn’t want Steve to think he has anything against Nancy because the truth is that he doesn’t. Nancy is great— she’s nice, she’s smart and she’s fucking badass. He wasn’t lying during that Spring Break from Hell when he told Steve that he should win her back, Wheeler is a fucking catch. Even Eddie, gay as fuck as he is, can see it.

Only now things are different. Not the fact that Nancy is a catch, she still is. But now she’s single, and she and Steve have been inseparable since she ended things with Jonathan.

Oh, and now Eddie is stupidly and hopelessly in love with Steve so he’s just waiting for the day when they finally announce that they’re back together and break Eddie’s heart.

He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for and he kinda wishes they would just get the fuck on with it. At least then, Eddie could stomp down any hope of anything ever happening between him and Steve. Right now they’re in a weird limbo where some days Eddie will catch Steve’s gaze flickering down to his lips or he’ll feel his touches linger a little too long and he’ll think maybe, but then he’ll walk into Steve’s kitchen to find Nancy and Steve whispering with their heads pushed together only for them to break apart and go quiet the moment they see him or he’ll try to make plans with Steve only to watch him fumble for an excuse before admitting he’s hanging out with Nancy. And every time his heart shatters a little, so better to just rip the bandage off once and for all.

“Eds?”

Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his thoughts and he realizes that he fell uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of Nancy. So much for acting like he doesn’t have a problem with her. Goddammit.

He plasters a smile on his face. “Wheeler is coming, you say? Great! The more the merrier!” He says, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “Should I bring something? Lighter fluid? Marshmallows? Child sacrifices?”

A woman standing to the side of the counter, letting the kid in her arms pick something from the candy display gasps audibly, scowling at Eddie and switching the toddler from one arm to the other, further away from him.

Whoops.

Steve gives him a look— why are you like this? it says. Eddie shrugs.

“Just bring drinks, okay?” Steve whispers to him after giving the woman a placating smile.

“Sure thing, big boy,” he says, delighting in the baffled little pout Steve makes every time Eddie calls him that. “Anything else?”

“Well,” Steve purses his lips, thinking. “I’ve got everything we need for the bonfire, Rob is bringing the music and Nance is in charge of the snacks.”

“Tell her I want s’mores.”

“She’s way ahead of you, man,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie’s eye twitches— of course perfect Nancy already picked the perfect snacks.

Nancy isn’t your problem, Eddie reminds himself, the problem is that Steve’s straight and still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and frankly, out of your league.

He sighs. “Sweet, I’ll see you and the ladies on Friday then.”

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Steve asks, sounding almost disappointed. Other than the woman and her child, the store is empty and has been for the entire time Eddie has been here. He’s probably dreading being alone for the rest of a slow shift.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, “I promised Red I’d drive her to the skatepark and if I’m late to pick her up, she’ll beat me to death with her skateboard and I’m too pretty to die.”

Steve smiles at him, that little lopsided smile that Eddie likes to believe is reserved just for him. He’s never seen him smile like that at anyone else— fond, amused, endeared. “Yeah, you are,” he says and winks.

Eddie’s breath hitches, his traitorous heart thinks maybe but his brain stomps down that hope real quick.

“Careful, Stevie, or Wheeler might get jealous,” he jokes but it doesn’t come out as lighthearted as he wishes.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow but before he can say anything else, a group of kids comes barrelling through the door followed by an exhausted parent and they all walk up to the counter to ask Steve for recommendations for their movie night.

Eddie quietly slips away from the counter, giving Steve a lazy salute and getting a finger wiggle in return before the kids loudly demand his attention.

Six little nuggets, Eddie thinks, recalling a conversation between Steve and Nancy that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

His heart breaks a little more. He wonders how long it’ll take before it shatters completely.

***

To no one’s surprise, Eddie is the last one to arrive at the bonfire.

He parks his van between Steve’s car and Nancy’s station wagon at the spot Steve circled on a map when he gave Eddie directions. After swinging his guitar over his shoulder and grabbing the cooler filled with sodas and beer, he follows the smell of smoke and the sound of Buckley’s boombox through the woods.

He spots Robin first— feeding dry leaves and twigs into the fire and singing along to some pop song Eddie doesn’t recognize.

Eddie whistles appreciatively. “That’s one impressive fire, Birdie!”

Robin jumps, dropping the leaves and the twigs to the ground with a startled yelp. When she spots Eddie, her face breaks into a big grin and she clumsily steps over the logs arranged around the bonfire to hug him as best as she can with the cooler between them and Eddie’s guitar on his back.

“You made it! And you brought your guitar!” She says, bouncing on her feet with excitement.

“Yup, there’s no way I’m letting you make my ears bleed by listening to pop tunes all night,” he teases and gets a light punch on his arm for it.

“I didn’t know you could play metal with just an acoustic.”

“Metal isn’t all I know, Birdie, I have hidden depths,” he says, thinking about all the country and folk songs he knows thanks to Wayne.

Robin cackles. “Sure you do, Munson.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and then glances around, looking for Steve and Nancy but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“They’re picking up more wood,” Robin says when she notices him looking. “They should be back soon.”

Unless they got distracted making out, Eddie thinks, biting down on his tongue to not let the bitter comment slip past his lips.

As if on cue, they hear leaves rustling and then Nancy and Steve step out from the treeline. Steve is carrying the wood and Eddie gets to enjoy the way his biceps bulge from the weight before his eyes zero in on Nancy’s tiny hand wrapped around Steve’s arm. They’re in deep conversation, Steve listening intently and nodding as Nancy speaks to him with a soft voice, her hand never leaving his arm. They don’t even notice he’s there until Robin points it out.

“Hey! Look who’s here!” She says, oblivious to the downward turn of Eddie’s mouth.

Both Nancy and Steve’s heads snap in their direction and Eddie tries really hard to school his features into something casual and less green-eyed monster.

Nancy’s hand falls from Steve’s arm and the pile of wood he’s carrying falters a little before Steve hoists it up again, biceps flexing. Eddie tears his eyes from his arms to look at his face, expecting him to look like he just spent the last ten minutes making out with Nancy or like he just got caught red-handed but instead, he’s grinning widely at Eddie, eyes twinkling under the moonlight.

“Hey, Eds!” He says, attempting to wave with his elbow but giving up when a piece of wood falls to the ground, his cheeks pinking up in embarrassment. “Shit, Nance, can you—” he starts but Nancy is already picking it up and placing it back on the top of the pile. “Thanks.”

Eddie carelessly drops the cooler in front of him. “Hey, Stevie. Hey, Wheeler,” he says, sweeping down in an over dramatic bow. “I come bearing drinks.”

Robin whoops, throwing the lid open and grabbing a wine cooler while Nancy picks up a beer.

Steve forgoes the cooler, dropping the wood on the ground next to it and walking around it to pull Eddie into a hug.

It takes him a little by surprise but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against Steve's neck, feeling him shudder, probably from the cold. He's only wearing a polo shirt, and despite the fire burning next to them, Eddie feels a slight chill in the air even though his jacket. “You smell like smoke.”

Steve snorts. “Oh, so I smell like you?”

It’s Eddie’s turn to shudder as his brain provides a handful of other reasons why Steve would smell like him. He tells his lizard brain to cool it and pulls back. “Yup, exactly! And you should know the smell is a bitch to get rid of.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Steve says, shrugging. With a wink, he adds, “I like it.”

Which to Eddie sounds flirty and a lot like ‘I like the way you smell’ and it takes his brain a moment to recover from that, but he does it just in time to catch the beer Steve tosses at him, even if he fumbles with it at first.

“You did a good job with the fire, Stevie,” he says, expertly popping the bottle open and gulping half of it down.

He catches Steve watching his throat as he drinks and the way he gives a little shake of his head before glancing at the bonfire. “You only say that because you didn’t see my first two failed attempts,” he chuckles. “It was actually Nancy who got it going.”

Eddie’s grip on the bottle tightens. “What would we do without her?” He says, voice a little clipped.

Steve’s smile falters but luckily doesn’t ask what Eddie’s problem is. “So are you gonna play for us?” He asks instead, gesturing at the guitar still hanging from his shoulder.

“Not just yet, Stevie. I was promised snacks, I’m hungry.”

“Me too!” Robin jumps in.

“Oh, the snacks are in the car,” Nancy says, digging through her bag for the keys. “I’ll go get them!”

“It’s okay, Nance. Eddie and I can go,” Steve volunteers, and with a secretive smile, Nancy tosses him the keys.

“Don’t forget you gotta—”

“Jiggle the key to open the trunk, I know,” Steve finishes with a smirk.

Eddie doesn’t realize he’s pouting until Steve points it out. Luckily he thinks it’s because he volunteered Eddie to get the snack too, and not because Steve is finishing Nancy’s sentences. “Stop pouting, Eds, it’s not that far.”

“You only say that because you didn’t have to carry a cooler and a guitar all the way here,” Eddie responds snarkily before setting his beer down on the ground and falling into step next to Steve.

“I’ll do the heavy lifting this time,” Steve smirks.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, feeling the taut muscle underneath. “Seems like you already have, big boy,” he says, his voice coming out lower and flirty now that they left Nancy at the bonfire.

With an undignified yelp, Steve trips over something and Eddie, who hadn’t let go of his arm yet, tightens his grip to keep him on his feet.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Eddie says and Steve curses under his breath. Maybe his foot got caught on a root and he hurt himself— it’s hard to see the ground when all they have is the moonlight filtering through the trees. “You okay?”

“Yup, yeah, thanks, man,” Steve stammers out, giving Eddie a tight smile. “Come on, we don’t want to keep Robin waiting, you know how she gets when she’s hungry.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah, I know. I still have her bite mark on my fucking arm,” he says, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to point out the fading bruise from their last movie night when the pizza was taking too long to get there and Buckley decided to chump on his arm. “As if getting chumped on by demobats wasn’t enough!”

Steve sniggers. His eyes sparkle with something when he says, “Don’t think I can blame her for wanting a piece of you, though,” matching Eddie’s tone from before— low and flirty.

Eddie’s eyes widen, he stops looking at where he’s going to gawk at Steve and trips on a rock. With no one grabbing his arm, he goes down, landing on his hands and knees.

“Motherfucker,” he curses, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve mutters, hurrying to help him up.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” he laments with a chuckle, brushing off dirt from his pants and his hands.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly and then Eddie feels hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up until he meets Steve’s eyes. “You didn’t hit your head?”

Eddie shakes his head no, but the truth is he isn’t exactly sure— maybe he hit his head and now he’s hallucinating how close their faces are or how Steve’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips as they dart over his face, looking for any sign that Eddie hurt himself.

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat which feels a little dry. “We should get those snacks before the girls send a search party after us.”

Steve nods, and after letting his right thumb brush over Eddie’s cheekbone once, he drops his hands from his face.

Heat builds up on Eddie’s face, making his cheeks burn hotter than the bonfire.

They stay like that all the way to Nancy’s car.

***

Back at the bonfire, Robin snatches the marshmallows from Eddie’s arms. “What took you guys so long?” She asks, ripping the bag open and unceremoniously shoving one into her mouth.

“Gee, and they call me feral!” Eddie says and is rewarded by Robin hitting him with the bag of giant marshmallows. It doesn’t hurt, they’re marshmallows, but Eddie is nothing if not dramatic.

He grabs his arm where she hit him and falls to his knees, as if wounded. “This is what I get for braving the woods at night for your snacks, Lady Buckley? The nerve, the ungratefulness! I shall never recover!”

Robin lets out a giggly snort. She offers him a marshmallow on a stick for him to roast as an apology which he graciously accepts.

When he looks up, he finds Steve looking down at him with an amused expression. “Why do you insist on dropping to your knees in the middle of the woods? Your jeans are ripped enough as it is!”

Eddie’s mouth acts faster than his brain, leering at Steve as he says, “You don't like how I look on my knees, sweetheart?”

Steve’s eyes widen almost comically, his cheeks flaring an alarming shade of red. Eddie doesn’t get to enjoy the sight of a flustered Steve for long, his head snapping to his right when there’s a loud gasp that doesn’t come from either of them.

His eyes meet Nancy’s wide ones as they dart from Steve to Eddie to Eddie’s knees and back at Steve, her lips mouthing a silent, “Oh.”

Oh? Eddie thinks, ‘Oh’ what?

She can’t possibly mean— even if Steve said this isn’t the first time Eddie drops to his knees tonight, she can’t possibly think— oh Christ, does she?

Eddie is about to blurt out something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t blow your secret boyfriend in the woods, I just wish I did’ when Nancy’s eyes meet Steve’s and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Steve firmly shake his head. That seems to be enough for Nancy, whose shocked expression melts away as she stands up and joins Robin where she’s roasting her marshmallow.

Eddie sits back on his heels with a sigh.

“You okay?” Steve asks, knocking his Nike against Eddie’s leg.

No, your girlfriend just thought you cheated on her with me! Eddie wants to say. “Yup, come on, let’s make some s’mores,” he says instead, pushing himself off the ground to go sit on one of the logs arranged around the bonfire.

He expects Steve to sit with Nancy, to appease her further but he sits next to Eddie, leaving no space between them despite there being plenty of room.

Eddie doesn’t mind, he loves having Steve close. Still, he can’t help but send surreptitious glances at Nancy every once in a while, averting his eyes when he finds her staring right back a few times.

He stops glancing at her when he gets distracted by Steve eating his s’mores— more specifically by him messily licking his lips and fingers clean. Not even his own marshmallow catching on fire can make Eddie tear his gaze away from Steve’s tongue lapping at the melted chocolate on his fingers, not until Robin screeches and points at the blackened little thing at the end of Eddie’s stick.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie curses as he pulls it out of the fire to blow on it, extinguishing the flames. Next to him, Steve laughs, lips stretched in a smug smile that it’s a little too knowing.

Holding the stick between his legs, Eddie squeezes the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate before taking a bite. There’s a slight burnt taste to it but it’s still good, so Eddie eats it enthusiastically.

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he does and he considers putting on a show like he did— licking and sucking on his fingers in an obscene way. But before he can, Steve is reaching out and wiping chocolate from Eddie’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Eddie’s breath hitches, his eyes widening.

Red blooms on Steve’s cheeks and he drops his hand to his lap. “Uh, you had chocolate on your lip.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” Eddie mumbles. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna— I need a beer.”

He scrambles to his feet, stepping over Steve to get to the cooler. He nearly drops the beer when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at him, lips pursed and a tiny frown between her eyebrows.

Did she see Steve do that? Is she mad? Eddie wonders, averting his eyes and staring at the flames instead.

And more importantly— what the fuck is Steve playing at?

***

Eddie finally gets his answer about an hour later.

The four of them are sitting around the bonfire, drinking beer and talking about everything and nothing. Robin and Nancy are sharing a blanket they grabbed from Steve’s trunk because, despite the fire that’s still burning, the air has only turned colder as the night goes on. Eddie is sharing a log with Steve— or he was until Steve stood up to put on his Members Only jacket and sat down on the ground instead, leaning against Eddie’s leg.

Eddie didn’t question it at first, assuming that Steve wanted to be closer to the fire while still leeching some of Eddie’s body heat, which is fine by him. But then Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie’s calf and dropped his head on Eddie’s thigh, essentially cuddling Eddie’s leg.

That’s also fine with Eddie. At least until Steve’s hand starts rubbing up and down Eddie’s leg, his fingers occasionally coming in contact with bare skin where his jeans ride up and his sock rides down while, at the same time, his hair is tickling Eddie’s skin through the rips in his jeans.

He reaches for Steve’s hair, intending to move it away from his leg but the moment his fingers touch the strands, Steve shudders and melts under the touch. Eddie doesn’t have the heart to push Steve’s head away so he ends up playing with his hair instead, brushing his fingers through the strands.

It’s maddening. All of it— Steve’s head on his lap, his fingers in Steve’s hair and the small noises it drags from him, Steve’s fingers playing with his ankle bracelet and his wiry leg hairs.

Suddenly, Eddie feels hot all over, and it has nothing to do with the flames bathing them in red and yellow and orange. And when Steve tilts his head and kisses Eddie’s knee it feels as if he might burst into flames.

But when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at them with what can only be described as a scowl —a jealous scowl— it’s like being hit in the face with cold water. Cold water and a realization. The realization that Steve might be doing all this to make Nancy jealous.

Eddie doesn’t know why exactly. Maybe he’s ready to go public with their relationship and he’s trying to bait Nancy into accepting. Maybe he’s getting back at her for whatever happened with Jonathan when she was still dating Steve. Maybe it’s just a weird fucking kind of foreplay.

It doesn’t matter what it is, Eddie knows he doesn’t want to be a part of it.

So he pulls his hand away from Steve’s hair, and as carefully as he can, jerks his leg free.

Steve turns his head, looking up at Eddie with big confused eyes. “You okay, Eds?”

“I, um. I need to smoke,” he lies, scrambling to his feet.

Steve looks even more confused at that. “You can do it here, you know? We literally all smell like smoke already,” he says with a chuckle.

But Eddie shakes his head. “No, I- I gotta go, sorry, Steve,” he stammers out, tripping on the log as he hastily heads back to the van.

Without stopping, he digs a cigarette and hiz Zippo from his jacket, lighting it up as he walks. He hears Steve call out for him once, twice then nothing. Eddie pretends it doesn’t hurt that he didn’t come after him but he’s got Nancy, so why would he?

“Goddammit,” Eddie curses, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated groan, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

It falls on the ground when Eddie lets out a strangled scream as Steve materializes out of fucking nowhere.

He hurriedly snuffs it out as he tries to get his heartbeat under control. “The bonfire wasn’t enough, Harrington?” He scoffs. “Are you trying to get me to start a real fire sneaking up on me like that?”

“I didn’t sneak up. I was calling for you.”

Oh. Eddie might’ve missed that from the blood rushing through his ears. “What do you want?”

“Why are you leaving? What happened?” When Eddie doesn’t answer, Steve’s face scrunches up. “Did I do something?”

Whatever Eddie’s face does at that is answer enough and Steve’s shoulders slump. “Shit, was that too much— I’m sorry, Eddie, I thought—”

“That you could use me to make your girlfriend jealous? Yeah, well, a heads up would’ve been nice,” Eddie says bitterly.

Steve jerks his head back as if he’s been slapped. “What?”

“I’m just saying that I probably would’ve said yes if you asked. At least then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, y’know?”

“I- I don’t know, Eddie, what are you talking about?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie asks, “You were trying to make Nancy jealous by being all over me, yeah?”

Steve splutters. “Uh, no?”

Eddie frowns. “So what? You guys are in an open relationship or something?”

“We’re not in any kind of relationship!” Steve says, his voice loud and hysterical at this point.

“Please!” Eddie scoffs. “You two have been inseparable since she and Jonathan broke up! It’s obvious you’re back together!”

“We’re not, Eddie, we’re friends! Yeah, we’re closer than we were before but that’s just because—” he hesitates.

“Because?” Eddie prompts with an impatient hand gesture.

Steve sighs, glances over his shoulder to where Nancy and Robin are and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, what the hell!” He says to himself. “We got closer because we both realized we have a crush on our best friend.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles. “Buckley?”

“No,” Steve says, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, Nancy does. She has a crush on Robin and I hope she’s telling her right now and that she won’t care that I just outed her to you—” His eyes meet Eddie’s and they’re open, vulnerable, hopeful. “But no, I don’t have a crush on Robin, Eddie, I have a crush on you.”

Eddie blinks. Then he blinks again. Then he pinches his arm hard but the world doesn’t fade away, he doesn’t wake up, he’s not dreaming. This is happening.

“Me?” He asks in a small voice. Steve nods. “So all of that— you weren’t making Nancy jealous you were—”

“Making a move on you, yeah,” Steve admits shyly, hanging a hand from his neck.

“Oh,” he says as he recontextualizes everything that has happened in the last couple of hours— hell, in the last couple of weeks. “Oh,” he repeats. “For what it’s worth it would’ve worked. If I wasn’t, you know, an idiot.”

Steve chuckles softly. “Well, good to know.”

Eddie bites his lip and goes on, a little nervous. “Yeah, and since I’m not an idiot anymore, if you wanted to like, make another move right now, I wouldn’t storm off or yell at you or—”

Eddie’s words are cut off by Steve making his move, which consists of him cupping Eddie’s cheeks, guiding his face to his and catching Eddie’s lips in a kiss.

Eddie stands frozen only for a split second before he loops his arms over Steve’s shoulders and kisses him back, feeling a fire bigger than any bonfire they could’ve built blaze wildly in his chest.

Steve dragging his teeth across his bottom lip only fuels the fire and causes Eddie to make a punched-out groaning sound that Steve chases with his tongue, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Eddie’s knees so weak they threaten to give out.

Before they do, causing Eddie to fall on them for a third time that night, Steve slows the kiss down to a full stop, ending it by nuzzling their noses together.

“You still are by the way,” Steve says.

“Huh?”

“An idiot,” he says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I can’t believe you thought I’d use you to make Nancy jealous!”

Eddie groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

Steve wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair. “Nope.”

“Yeah, I deserve that,” he says, nuzzling Steve’s neck. He jerks his head back as he thinks of something— “Wait, if Nancy wasn’t jealous then what’s with all the scowls and the glares?”

“Oh, she was jealous. Of me. For making a move on you while all she did was share a blanket with Robin,” Steve says with a laugh.

And Eddie can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous this all is. “Should we make her jealous a little more?” He asks, grabbing Steve’s hand with a wicked grin.

Steve nods, intertwining their fingers together and letting Eddie drag him back towards the bonfire.

***

They find Robin and Nancy making out next to what’s left of the fire, wrapped up in the blanket and each other. Quietly, they make their way back to the cars, climbing into the back of Eddie’s van, kissing until the sun comes up.

[remlionheart]

can i request a megumi x reader fluff >_<! so like while on a mission due to a cursed technique of the curse the reader gets turned into a child so megumi has to take care of them and yeah they’re dating BUT NOTHING WEIRD JUST MEGUMI TAKING CARE OF CHILD READER PLEASE 😭😭

not a lot, just forever...

intertwined, sewn together...

♡‧₊˚ ⋅ hi lovely! i sat with this idea for a few days thinking of a way to bring it to life because it’s honestly just so cute and the more i thought about meg trying to interact with a child, the more my heart melted. ((i also realized that this is the very first sfw thing i’ve ever posted on here (whoops lol)), it's more of a drabble than a full-fledged fic, but i hope you like it anyway ♡ 0.9k words. the fluffiest of fluff. lemme know whatcha think, luv you ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.

Megumi had watched the curse hit you. Watched the way your body went limp after you'd fallen to the ground. He'd held you in his arms, struggling to shove past all of the worst-case scenarios that had invaded his mind before scooping you up and getting you to a safe place while Yuuji and Nobara worked on defeating the curse user who’d done this to you.

He was grateful that you were okay – beyond grateful that you were still with him and somehow mostly unscathed, but...

He never expected to see you like this. He hadn’t even heard of the curse that had struck you until now and the effects of it were... surreal, to say the least. He knew this version of you from old pictures he'd seen and stories that you’d told him over the last year you'd been dating, but he never in his life thought that he'd one day be standing face-to-face with 7-year-old you…

"Hey," your voice was impossibly light, your tiny hand tugging at the sleeve of his uniform. "What's your name?"

The wheels in his head weren't just spinning anymore, they were fully lifted off of the ground and exploding into the air as he looked back at you, desperately searching your face to try and figure out if you were still there or if he was really, truly in the presence of child-you who hadn't met him yet.

He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound calmer than he felt. If he was this disoriented, he couldn't imagine what you must be feeling, especially at the age you suddenly were.

"My name's Megumi." He said placidly, crouching down to become eye level with you. "And you?"

You giggled, the most innocent, wholesome giggle he thought he'd ever heard as you bashfully introduced yourself to him.

"That's a pretty name." He soothed, silently racking his brain for a way to explain why you needed to come with him.

He'd never really been great with kids, even when he was one. At this age, his dad had already abandoned him and he was being faced with the crippling reality that he was going to be sold to the Zenin clan. He'd been forced to grow up at such a rapid rate that the adults around him had never bothered to speak sweetly to him or treat him how they should've. He wasn't allowed to simply be a first grader with first grader problems, he was expected to be a man.

Though he might not have not known the perfect way to interact with you, the longer he stared back into your big wonderous gaze, he realized that he certainly knew how not to act from the people that had failed him. He couldn't undo the past for himself, but what he could do was be the adult that he wished he would've had at 7.

"Hey," he finally said, flashing you the steadiest smile he could manage, "You don't like..." He put a finger to his chin, scrunching his face for emphasis as he pretended to think. "Strawberry mochi, do you?"

Stars filled your eyes while your small hands clapped together. "That's my favorite!" You squealed, completely enthralled by the fact that he'd somehow managed to guess it on the very first try.

"Really?" He asked, trying to mimic your excitement, "Mine too. Do you wanna go get some? My friend Shoko has tons of it."

You nodded emphatically; all 120 centimeters of you ready to run there though you had no idea which way to go yet.

"Alright," Megumi said, "But you gotta do me a favor and stay close to me until we get there, okay?"

Thankfully, he'd been able to move you to a secluded area before the curse had turned back the hands of time, but he still wasn't going to take any chances. He summoned his dogs, biting back a sincere smile when he heard you cheer, "Puppies!"

They were equally as ecstatic to see you too though. Both of them wagging their tails and leaving slobbery kisses across your face while you laughed, the two of them acting as if they really were puppies and not deadly shikigami.

He gave you a couple of minutes to pet them before redirecting their focus and reaching for your hand. Both dogs immediately got into formation, guarding you while you began your journey back to Shoko's office.

"So – Megumi."

"Yeah?"

"Ummm," you sputtered, trying to think of what question you wanted to ask him first. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Favorite number?"

"Seventeen."

"Favooorriitteeeee.... food?"

"Anything that pairs well with ginger."

You made a face like you'd tasted something bitter, shaking your head as you giggled at his response. "What abouttt yourrr....favorite... person?"

He smiled to himself, squeezing your tiny hand in his. "Well..." He said, pausing to look down at you. "I think right now, I'd have to say it's you."

"Me?" You beamed, "Really?!"

"Always."

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 8

Warnings/Summary:Slight Angst|Armando flipping the switch all the sudden|Everybody ready to whoop his ass|Y/N and Rita having much needed girl talk| Mando reflecting on his assassin days |Y/N making him work for it if you get what I mean😌

Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

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Receiving an amused expressions from the group and a stressed out one from Mike, you attempt to shut down your fathers' comments. 

“Dad for the last time I’m not pregnant....and plus it doesn’t work that fast!" you exclaimed crossing your arms annoyed that he keeps trying to speak a child on you. 

Pursing his lips in disagreement your dad, sends Mike a look, "She's in denial but don’t worry Mike, this is your chance to get reconnected with your son and future grandchild.” 

Closing his eyes Mike lets out a frustrated sigh, "Marcus, I don’t need to be thinking about a nonexistent grandkid when I’m still trying to get used to having a son and a wife!"  

Shaking his head, he looks at Armando who has been silently listening to the conversation, mind seemingly lost on the possibility of bringing a child in this world. 

“No Mike this...” pausing Marcus gasps loudly in realization, which startled everybody, "THE VISION! OH, how could I be so stupid.” Without any explanation Marcus walks away mind now occupied with this new spiritual hint he has received. 

“Okay...should we go ahead and head towards the location.” Kelly says bringing the conversation back to the mission. 

“Yeah, there should be a safe house not too far from the meet up spot, lets gather what we can and load up." Mike replied to Kelly with an exhausted tone. 

With that everyone proceeds to make their way to the lake house, except for Mike who ask if Armando could stay behind for a second. 

Hearing this you glance at Armando who has a contemplating look on his face, sighing he gives your hand a small squeeze, and makes his way back to his father. 

Sending Mike a smile you continue walking with the others, allowing them to have a private moment. 

Reluctantly Armando brings his gaze to his father, "Did you need something?” 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

While everyone collects things for the mission you go through your medical bag, double checking your supplies as Midnight lays on your lap sleep. 

“Hey,Y/N I meant to ask you to check out Rita, she got into a scuffle with Lockwood before we had reached them." Kelly says while zipping up a duffel bag. Glancing up at the mention of her name, Rita shakes her head in disagreement, "I’m fine, we should save the supplies for when it’s needed.” 

Standing up you lay Midnight by your bag, as you make your way over to Rita with concern, "I got plenty of supplies and you should let me determine if your fine or not.” 

Sighing she says, "You're not going to leave me alone, until you check me out aren’t you." Running your eyes over her, you let out a small laugh, as you reach her tense form, "You know me so well. Are you hurting anywhere?” 

“Leaving the elevator, it was hurting at first but the pain is dull now." she says pointing to her head, while glaring at Lockwood. Pressing your hands down softly on her head, you asked if she felt any pain, while you palpate and look for any bruises. 

“No, mostly mentally hurt than physical." she says removing your hand from her head, looking up she gives you a sad but reassuring smile.  

Leaning down near her ear you asked her if she wanted you to prescribe her some “Medical” Hemp, on the low. She turns to you with an amused expression, "Are you trying to sell a police officer weed?” 

Raising your hand up, in defense, you say with a smile,” Hey, you said it, I’m just trying to help a friend relax and take her mind off of a useless asshole.” Walking over to your bag, you glare at Lockwood, who glares back at you. 

“Some men just don’t deserve a woman's love, especially from a caring woman like you Rita." you say still glaring at Lockwood as you rummaging through your medical bag, for some ibuprofen.  

Lockwood looks like he wanted to reply but with the duct tape over his mouth and hands   handcuffed behind him all he could, do was roll his eyes and huff noisily through his nose. Giving Rita the pills she takes it nodding her head at your words, but making a skeptical expression, while looking down at the pills in her hands. 

” Take them pills Rita, ain’t nobody tryna slip you some weed." you said watching with a big smile as she debates about taking the medicine or not. Rolling her eyes, she takes them while glaring at you playful, "If you gave me some weed Y/N, I swear...”  

Cutting her off you say, "Girl that was pain medicine, you weren’t hiding your flinching very well, when I was examining your head for any swelling.” 

Shaking her head at your words, she points at you with a knowing look, "Can't get nothing past you, Huh?”  

“You already know, you want me to get you some water.” you said heading to the kitchen. Hearing a ‘please’ you make your way to the fridge, smacking Dorn shoulder playful, while passing by him. 

Unbeknownst to you Mike enters the house with a solemn expression, while Armando trails behind him, eyes narrowed as he traced the room for you. 

Moving around Mike, he heads further into the house, briefly looking in the living room before turning his head towards the kitchen, where he sees you grabbing some water. 

Sighing he walks over to you almost hesitant, as he watches you glance away from the fridge. 

Seeing Armando approaching form you smile, but it immediately drops when he doesn’t return it with a playful smirk. Concerned you close the fridge door, setting the water on the counter as you walk towards him. 

“Hey...is everything okay?" you said blinking up at him as he looks everywhere but at your worried expression. After not receiving a response, you grab his hand bringing him further into the kitchen, so you can talk to him without any curious eyes watching y’all. 

Feeling him snatch his rough hand out of your soft ones made you turn to him with raised and curved brows. 

“Mand-” before you can question him, he cuts you off, "Don't call me that,Y/N!”  Even more confused you try to reach out to him, but he just steps away from your comforting hands, while frowning at you. 

Defense immediately coming up, you pull your hands back opting to wrap it around yourself as you look at him completely lost on why he was acting like this all the sudden. 

“Mando....baby what’s wrong.... did I do something?" you said chewing at your bottom lip nervously as you wait for his response. 

Brown eyes glancing down at your lips, he shakes his head eyes flickering back up to yours while he lets out a frustrated sigh, "No... I did...whatever was blossoming between us, it stops here.” 

Letting out a stunned laugh you say “What?” fully hearing him but lost by this random change of heart. 

“You heard me, Y/N.....and plus this was just a one-time thing, like you said.... Shit we both just needed to scratch an itch.” he says watching as you wince at his words, while avoiding his gaze. 

Blinking your tears away you laugh bitterly, "Wow, after all that defending I did for myself...and you... is that what you thought this was.... the need to scratch and itch!” you said with a clenched jaw while glaring up at him. 

Pursing his lips Armando goes to speak but you cut him off, "You know what Fuck You Armando! and to think I was starting to have a change of heart about you......I should’ve listened to Kelly!” 

“Yeah, you should’ve and you already did the first part!" Armando says as he watches your face flush with anger. 

Shaking your head in disbelief and hurt you shove pass him hard, as you make your way to the restroom, not wanting to face the embarrassment or the looks you’ll receive from the other, as you had no doubt that they heard you guys' arguing. 

As you walk away Armando’s angry facade slips away as he drops his head into his hands, with regret.  

He knew that what he did was for the right reasons, even before his conversation with Mike, even when he had first met and seen you, he knew that something was different about you. But the life that he had lived so far has been so devoid of love.... not just affection but real love, that he jumped at the opportunity to experience it with you once it was finally offered.  

And now as he leaned against the counter with his head in his hand, he wiped away at his tears of frustration, while staring blankly at nothing. Did he fuck up the only chance he had at happiness? 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Everyone could sense the tension between you two but chose to ignore it ,as you all gather up your things and load into the van. Seeing that the back was going to be crowded you choose to sit in the front with Rita, not really wanting to be in Armandos presence, as y’all make your way to the safe house. 

Noticing this Marcus closed the back of the van doors, confused on why his daughter wouldn’t want to sit next to the boy in front of him. As the van begins to move Armando could feel everyone stares, as he leaned against the van walls, eyes closed as he attempts to relax. 

Sighing when he starts hearing slight muttering to his left he opens his eyes, "Speak up, If your gonna talk shit about me, at least have the balls to do it to my face.” 

“You know you're a fucking asshole,right!” Dorn says face red with anger from the way Armando spoke to you. 

Humming in agreement Armando stares emptily at him, "Heard that one before.... anyone else got something to say." Tilting his head to the left he see Kelly glaring at him with the same angry expression. "She genuinely started to like you even when I tried to warn her, she chooses you of all people to show love and affection; just for you to act like that asshole Rafe!” 

Sitting up at this, Armando furrows his brows at her words, "Who's Rafe?” 

“Y/N ex-boyfriend and an ex-member of the AMMO Squad, you ran into him a couple of times when you were still working under the cartel." Marcus says crossing his arm as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. 

Rolling his eyes as he remembers that smug member of the group he scoffs, "I'm nothing like that asshole,get your facts straight before comparing me to him.” 

“Nah the comparison is pretty accurate, and you both done her wrong." Dorn says looking like he’s ready to launch at Armando. 

Becoming frustrated he shakes his head in disagreement, "You don’t have a fucking clue about the way I feel about Y/N,so mind your fucking business!" Armando says feeling anger flare inside of him. 

“Oh Yeah! If you felt so strongly about her, why the hell did you treat her like that in the kitchen!" Kelly says with frustration, seconds away from pulling her gun on him again. 

“Y’all just drop this convo-” Before Mike could defend his son, Marcus cuts in "No! Mike you been defending this boy all day, I need to know the reasons behind his actions, especially when it comes to my daughter!” 

Groaning in frustration Armando glances at his father debating if he should tell the others or not. Staring his son down Mike shakes his head in disagreement but after seeing his son almost pleading stare he sighs, "Tell them what you told me.” 

Everyone looked at the two confused as Mike says this, "What have y’all been keeping from us!", Marcus says with worry written all over his face. 

“Before I completed any assassination, I liked to study my victims, you know learn their habits and hangout spots....” Armando says face harden as he reflects on his memories and actions. “During that time, I learned how you all worked and function, even knew that you two were fucking even, before I completed my observations." Armando says pointing at Kelly and Dorn who become flush at his words. 

Sighing he rubs at his eyes, "I was supposed to execute each and every one of you, the night after I shot Mike.”  

Everyone froze at his words except for Mike who grimace from the memory of being shot. Armando shifted in his seat as he watches the unsure gazes of the people around him. 

“I know you killed Captain Conrad....but why didn’t you go after the rest of us." Marcus says wondering what stopped him from continuing his assassinations against the squad. 

Closing his eyes for a split second, he runs his hands through his hair before looking up at Marcus with a shaky smile,” Y/N. ” 

Not expecting that everyone stares at Armando confused and surprised as he says your name. "She wasn’t even involved with the case, when you were after the squad!" Kelly says thinking that Armando was lying. 

“Yes, she wasn’t involved in the case but I always keep an eye on the family members just in case something goes sideways, but one night when I was scoping out the station, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I ran into her." he says smiling softly at the memory. 

“She seemed upset and tears was clouding her vision, so I can see why she doesn’t remember me.” Pausing Armando look at the others before continuing, "It was the way she franticly apologized and made sure I was alright... that had me second guessing my orders......how could someone who was clearly experience the worst pain in their life, disregard her feelings to make sure a stranger was okay." he said glancing around at the team. 

Everybody just sat there and listened about how your one act of kindness, potential saved them from knocking at deaths door. "That's why when she walked through the door this morning, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.” 

Leaning over to Mikes ear, Marcus whispers, "Looks like it’s the LOWREYS who can’t keep away from us BURNETTS.” 

Rolling his eyes Mike ignores Marcus comments, as he continues to listen to Armando explanation. "But that doesn’t explain why you said those things to her." Dorn says making Armando drop the small smile he had on his face.  

Blinking he looks down at his hands, "I just snapped...I didn’t mean for my words to come out that way, I never felt like this for someone....ever, it's like every cell in my body went into defense mode, when they realized that my heart was beating quicker for a different reason other than protecting myself....” 

Sighing his eyes squeezed shut as he muttered words that shocked everyone, "I think I’m in love with, Y/N.” 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

The drive to the safe house was surprisingly peaceful as you and Kelly talk about your bad taste in men. It’s funny how crying helps relieve the pain, in your chest temporally after being hurt by someone. 

“I just don’t understand what happened it was like his whole attitude towards me just shifted......maybe he was finally showing me, his true colors." you said wiping at your eyes. 

Pulling into the driveway Rita, puts the van in park before turning towards you, "I wish I could give you an explanation for his actions but men are weird when it comes to dealing with their emotions," Sighing she leans against the driver seat eyes moving to look at the dashboard, "it's like their fight or flight kicks in....and the men I chosen so far always pick the fight, then flight after getting what they want.” 

“But the heart wants, what it wants.... right?" you say still apprehensive about the emotions you were feeling at the moment. 

Turning towards you she gives you a small smile, "Your young you still have the chance and opportunity on finding someone who truly cares for you....and yes, the heart wants what it wants but don’t forget about this one either." she says pointing to her head while making direct eye contact with you. 

“Be smart Y/N,I’m just giving you advice from someone who has let her heart decide on what she needs multiple times......and let me tell you how wrong it’s been." she says laughing slightly, while blinking the tears away that threatens to fall. 

“Oh, I know, I've had problems with that too." you said laughing along with her. 

You two sit in comfortable silence, allowing the a/c to be heard as its humming noise filled the empty noise around you two. Lost in thought you sit in the passenger seat reflecting on everything you two talked about but before you can completely space out, someone knocked hard on your window. 

Jumping from the abrupt noise you turn to see, Kelly standing by the door with an apologetic smile. Rolling down the window you give her an annoyed look, “You ain’t on duty, why you knocking on my window like you trying to give me a ticket?” 

Shaking her head at your comment, she laughs while leaning against the passenger door, "Just wanted to see if you had completely left mentally, and everyone already went inside the house,they wanted me to check up on you two.” 

“Really, I didn’t even notice." you said unbuckling your seat belt, while Rita turns the van off and complete the same motions as you. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Upon entering the safe house, the men seemed to already have set up a sleeping arrangement as everyone turned in for the night. Glancing to the side you make eye contact with Armando for a split second before shifting your gaze to a different area of the house. Setting your bag and Midnight down you asked your dad where you were sleeping. 

“There are only 4 rooms so we decided to sleep in pairs." Marcus says while digging through his bag. Tensing up you look around unsure before Dorn gives your shoulder a light squeeze, while slipping by you, "Don't worry he wanted to sleep on the couch.” 

Sighing in relief you nod, as you walked towards what you assumed was your bedroom for tonight. The room was only lit by the small lamp on the night stand, which provided only a little light but other than it looked quite cozy.  

Walking back out you go to pick up your duffel bag but freeze, at the sight before you. Midnight must have wonder towards Armando while you explored your room, you had to admit the sight of him playing with your little black fur baby was cute. Watching as his brown doe like eyes move up to meet yours with a hesitant smile, had you roll your eyes as you snatched up your bag, and quickly returned to your bedroom. 

Feeling the physical and mental toll of today finally kick in you hurriedly complete your night routine, and quickly get in the bed, opting to just sleep in your shirt. Turning the light off you lay in bed, as you watch the natural light from the moon shine through the windows. 

The funny thing about being tired is that the minute your head hit the pillow, you have that random burst of energy that keeps you from falling asleep too quickly. You tossed and turned for a good ten minutes before, letting out a loud sigh as you sit up. 

“Midnight usually sleeps with me.”you said figuring out the problem, groaning you throw the comforters off of you before, returning back to the living room. You quietly make your way to the living,and become confused when you don’t see him or Armando on the couch.Hearing quiet meows and a quick shushing from the kitchen makes you walk over wondering what they were up too. 

“She’s mad at me...I know.” Armando says staring down at the kitten as it stares up at him. Amused by the sight before you, you continue watching the interaction between the two from a distance. 

“What can I say to her...your mama kinda hard headed so she wouldn’t want to listen to me......but I don’t blame her." He sighs as he rubs the skin between his furrowed brows. Staring up at him Midnight tilts his head in confusion, as he watches the man before him. 

“Why the fuck would I say those things to her!" he exclaimed quietly as he lays against the table. Midnights lets out a few meows as he rubs his small frame against Armando, in an attempt to comfort the man in front of him. 

Sitting up Armando pets the kitten softly, "My bad little guy.... she would've got onto me for cursing in front of you.” 

Smiling to yourself at the interaction in front of you, you decided to come out of your little hiding spot. Midnight perks up as he sees you approach letting out happy noises, as he turns his attention to you. 

Confused Armando looks up but sucks in a breath as he sees you approaching them, but your eyes only remain on Midnight, as you pick up the small kitten. Laying the kitten against your chest, you give Armando a brief glance before returning back to your room. 

Slightly hurt by the way you barely acknowledge him; he gets up and follows you quietly calling out your name so he wouldn’t wake up the other’s. 

Hissing out a quiet What, you turn to face him, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare at him expectantly. Admiring your annoyed expression for a second, he asked if you two could talk. 

Rolling your eyes, you smack your lips quietly at his response, "You talked enough earlier remember and at this moment I have nothing to say to you." Turning back around you hear the quiet shuffling of his feet against the wooden floor as he followed you. 

 Before you could close the door on him, he pushed his way in closing the door behind him, while staring at you apologetic. 

“Armando, I really don’t have time for your BS tonight, I just want to go to sleep." you say becoming agitated at his persistence. 

“Y/N... please, all I want from you is to listen after this, I will leave you alone." he said not really believe that last part but he really just needed to explain himself. 

Sighing you sit on the bed, staring up at him quietly as you wait. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down your body, as he just realized that you're only wearing a shirt. 

Clearing your throat, you bring him back to reality, as his gaze return to your narrowed ones. "I'm not very good at expressing my feelings...so bare with me.” he says nervous as he feels your intense gaze on him. 

“It shouldn’t be that hard seeing that.... you were able to talk to Midnight truthfully.” you say watching as his eyes widened at your words. 

Nodding his head he sighs as he slowly begins explaining his actions from earlier, and the reasons behind his responses and words. His worried eyes shift between yours and the floor as he explains and apologizes for the way he spoken to you, nerves flaring slightly as he watches you listen to him without a hint of emotion on your face. 

After he finished, he stared down at you hoping and praying for any reaction, instead of the blank look that seems to remain on your face. 

Anxious to what you’ll say he huskily says your name as his eyes,franticlly move to meet yours. "Was that all?” you said blinking up at him a few times, eyes tracing his form as you wait for his response. Pausing at your words you watch in amusement as he stares at the ground, in thought before nodding his head. 

Walking past him Armando watches with confusion as you grab a small pillow from the chair in the corner of the room, and walk over to the bathroom. Placing Midnight on the pillow you leave the light on, as you walk back over to the front of the bed...calmly to calmly for Armandos liking. 

Laying against the bed you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes, "I don’t think I’m convinced just yet.....Mando.” Running his eyes down your relaxed form he swallows slightly at the sight of your thick brown legs teasingly opening before closing and the way that your taunting voice calls out to him, makes him blink a few times. 

Stepping towards you he hesitantly reaches out a hand to touch your leg only for you to smack his hands away. Confused he looks up at you with hunger but he waits for your response. 

“You think I’m going to let you touch me, after all that shit you was talking." you said grinning widely as his eyes move up to yours, watching his expression darken as it seems like he was having an internal battle with himself.

“Shit princess,I already said I was sorry…what else do you want me to do?”he said glancing at the way your harden nipples press against your shirt.

“I think you need help fixing that filthy mouth of yours Mando, and it looks like you're in luck cuz I have a perfect way of doing that." you say beckoning him over with your index finger, as you open up your legs for him. 

Shivering slightly at the sight of you, his dilated eyes shifted up to yours as he approached you, "Your sure, Nena?” 

Maintaining eye contact with him you nod, as he goes to raise your legs over his shoulder, but you press your foot against his firm chest. 

“What’d I say...put that pretty mouth of yours to work...and maybe I’ll forgive you.” 

Smirking as he hears the words he said to you earlier be used against him now,made him lick his lips while chuckling slightly.Laying against the bed in front of you,he quickly mutters yes ma'am before spreading your legs wider and diving straight in.

Even though tomorrow was a serious day, you two didn’t get much sleep as Armando showed you just how sorry he really was. 

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Authors Note:🎙️Y’all thought this was turning into a smut,don’t lie😏🫵🫵,and I know for sure he a eater so don’t fight me on it🧍🏾‍♀️ .

Anyways stay tuned for Part 9,Let’s see who survives 🙂

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay, any of ur yautja OC reacting to low spice tolerance GN reader eating spicy food, and they’re just a mess after the first bite, tongue on fire, lips numb and their chugging anything that’s liquid, but still continuing eating the spicy food, it just sounds funny asf. 😹

Low Tolerance

Pairing: Uihoy (male Yautja) x Vic'tao (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Summary: Between the three of you, only Vic'tao loves and even craves hot foods. When he has to chance to take the two of you to an upscale restaurant, he snatches it up. He's only able to get take out but he doesn't complain. You didn't realize how much heat Vic'tao could handle.

Author Note: I don't know if you know me in real life because this is me. Mild is too hot for me. I cannot handle spicy food once-oh-ever. I'll start to flop over and die.

Masterlist

Ao3

Both of your feet were thrown over the armrest of the copilot chair. A tablet sat in your hands, occupying your mind until Vic’tao returned to the ship. Uihoy was in the captain’s chair and going through all of the checks of the ship. You peeked over your device to stare at the handsome, bulky form of Uihoy. He was leaned forward, typing away at the console in front of him.

In the light of the ship, his purple scales reflected the light. You couldn’t help the soft smile to spread across your features, head tilting slightly to the side. How did you get so lucky with not one but two amazing mates? They had stumbled into your life unexpectedly. Here you were now, the third addition to their small group. The best mates you could ever ask for.

“Why is little ooman giving Uihoy that look?” the purple Yautja spoke up without taking his bright eyes off of the console. Whoops, caught red handed.

Heat bloomed to life under your cheeks but you didn’t look away from him. “Can’t your mate not admire the catch I’ve caught?” you drawled with a cheeky smirk. Uihoy huffed with his upper two mandibles quirking up. Ah, you got him.

A hum tumbled out of his throat. “Yes, little mate can. But if looking continues, might as well come over here. Uihoy feels a bit… lonely.” You rolled your eyes and closed the case on your tablet.

“Vic’s been gone for less than five minutes. You’re already lonely?” you teased him, a sparkle in your eye. It was a hard draw between the two of them on who’s the most needy. Each have their differences. Both need their own requirements met every day. That’s not a complaint. You loved them. You would do a lot for them.

Uihoy took his eyes off of the screen in front of him to turn his direction at you. A small pout molding his features. You sighed dramatically before slipping off the chair. The tablet was left on the seat. You meandered over to the hunk and stopped in front of him. A short purr left his throat. He leaned back and invited you to his lap.

Just like before, you sat in the same position. The best position to relax in. Uihoy carded his thick fingers through your hair and let his hand sit against your scalp. You leaned against it and let your eyes drift shut. Comfortable.

“Vicky better hurry his yellow ass up because I’m starting to starve!” you groaned and reopened your eyes in a dramatic flip of your head. “What’s even this place called again?” All you remember as Vic raved on about the restaurant was the fact it was best place for food. He said he was lucky to be able to get take out from them. Though, it would’ve been better to sit down. Not that he knew but it was an educated guess.

His claws carefully ran down your scalp. You instantly were mesh in his hold. “The best translation to English is ‘Mama’s Fish Bowl’,” Uihoy answered your question. You couldn’t help the snort and peered up at him with a raised brow. “Don’t judge the name before trying the food. Little ooman may regret it.”

Not that you were making fun of the name, but it’s such a… cliché. You believed the translation was off. Some languages just didn’t work with English over even any other language on earth.

Both Vic and Uihoy were well adverse in a lot of languages. But, even they will fall back onto their translator for a smooth transition. Maybe, this was one of those times the language just doesn’t work.

“What kind of food do they serve?” At first, you didn’t think anything wrong with that but realized different pallets and culture. Of course, the food was safe for you. This isn’t going to be like asking if it was like Italian or Mexican. This was an alien cuisine. That didn’t stop you from being curious. What type of food was it like?

He continued to softly scratch at your scalp, making you putty in his hands. “That’s for little hunter to find out when Vic’tao comes back.” You sighed and rolled your eyes again. Damn him. Your eyes drifted shut as you turn your head towards Uihoy and looked up at him. “But trust when said this is damn good food.” Another smile broke across your features.

You lifted a hand to cup his jaw. “I do. A lot. I trust both of you with my life.” He tilted his head to nuzzle against your palm. A short chuff came from the giant.

“What are the two love doves doing without me?” A familiar voice filtered into the space. You twisted around in Uihoy’s lap to see Vic’tao strolling into the cockpit. Both of hands full with bags. Your eyes widened at the sight. The two of them ate a lot but that much food should feed the two of you for a few days. Perfect, leftovers!

A groan escaped you. “Finally, you’re back! We’ve been waiting years,” you taunted him with a grin showing off your teeth. The yellow Yautja scowled at you and strolled further into the room.

Both of the bags were set down on the chair you once sat in. Then, the male spun on his heel and was strutting away. “Uie, you want Cn’tlip?” Your face scrunched up at the name of their beer. It was disgusting. Uihoy chirped his answer. Vic was gone again, heading to the kitchen for said drinks. You only had what was safe for a human. Water and some sort of carbonated drink that tasted like Pepsi. Once in a while, they’ll be able to pick up what tasted like Sierra Mist. That stuff was a special occasion though since it cost so much and was rare.

As soon as Vic was gone, he was already back. The beer like drink soared through the air. Uihoy snapped his hand out and snatched it cleanly through the air. Your soda was also thrown across the room. You barely had enough time to reach out and clumsily catch it. “Vic’tao! Careful,” you scolded and glared at the laughing Yautja.

The male made his way back over to the chair. Take out boxes were set out. Some of it left inside of the bags. This felt like a classic moment back at home. You would be alone in your apartment, having take out after a grueling day at work.

Two boxes were set down in your lap. You quirked a brow before Uihoy set the beer in a cupholder and grabbed the top one. “That for little hunter.” A purple finger pointed at the white box left in your lap. You opened the box, eyes scanning over the contents.

Steam first met your nostrils before your eyes began to water. You held back a cough. “Ehm… is this spicy?” you questioned and looked over Vic to turn your head away from the flavors trying to kill you.

Said Yautja peered over his shoulder. “Yes, mild though.” He opened a box and took a lung full of the scent. Then, he paused. “Wait… C’jit. You’re ooman.” You raised a brow and snorted. After all this time, it still slips his mind. Never in a dangerous, harm situation though. Never.

“It’ll be fine. I think. I’ll just give it a try. How about that?” you attempted to resolve the situation. Surely it couldn’t be that bad. Yet, here you are, with a low tolerance. You instantly knew you were going to regret this entirely. But, the two of them went out of their way to get food, specially food for you that’s human safe.

Vic’tao gave you a skeptical look. Uihoy’s hand tightened in your hair. “You don’t have to eat it if you know it’ll hurt you.” You gave the Yautja a look.

“I’ve got this. Promise.” He looked a little longer at you before relenting and returning to his own buffet in front of him. You looked down at your food and took a deep breath in. Yes, you were going to feel pain. A lot of pain in less than five minutes.

You picked up the utensil and dug into the noodle like dish. The noodles were main red and orange colors, much different then what you’re used to back home. Despite the heat, the smell of it was delicious. No wonder this place was a hit if you couldn’t tell by the scent. Then, you carefully scooped the noodles off of the fork.

At first, flavors bursted on your tongue. You groaned and leaned against Uihoy. God, this was the best food you’ve had in a long time.

Then, your lips began to go numb. The rest of your mouth bursted into flame. Your jaw dropped as you tried to cool it down by breathing heavily.

“You good?” Vic’tao laughed while watching this unfold in front of him. “I told you, you don-“ you interrupted him by raising a hand.

“All finah. Ah eak. Goo… good,” you choked out and started to chug down the closest drink to your hand. But… that only made it worse. You winced before downing some more noodles. There were some hardy choices you are regretting at the moment. Despite the heat though, the flavors were amazing.

Drool started to drip from the corner of your numb lips. You slurped it back up and tried to finish off your drink only to find out it was gone. You find the second closest drink and started to down it as well. The taste fought off the heat for only a moment.

It only got worse. You quickly packed up the box, threw in back into Uihoy’s lap as you sprinted to the kitchen. “Muy mouf is on firer!” you screamed and about smacked into the cockpit door when it didn’t open. You slipped past and gone you were.

By the time you returned, the fire was mostly subdued. You slowly walked back into the cockpit, a slice of bread in your hand. Both of your mates were holding back their laughter and watched you. You held up the piece. “I found bread,” you mumbled through still numb lips.

Uihoy nodded and hummed. “How’s the mouth?” Your eyes narrowed on his purple scales. You bit off another chunk of the bread. It helped fight off the heat.

“Fine.” You climbed back into Uihoy’s lap without another word and slow chomped down on the noodles again. Your bread helping along the way.

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

If Steve behaves during workouts over the next few days, he can’t be blamed. He’s trying to prove to his coaches and the team’s medical staff that he’s not rushing a return to the ice, but that he’s ready to lace up and get back out there. He bargains his way out of the full plastic face protection mask, opting for a full cage instead. By Sunday, he’s participating in the last full team practice before they pack up to leave Chicago, keeping up with his teammates despite how much he felt he’d been struggling just days earlier.

“You holding up?” Max asks, loudly, as he skates past where a few of the team doctors are sitting, observing and chatting.

“I’m fine,” He answers, and takes a shot, scoring past their goalie who had belly-flopped in the opposite direction of the puck. 

A few of his teammates ‘whoop’, while the goalie slams his stick against the ice, shoving a glove off his hand to flip Steve off, before getting back to work. 

Steve just snorts and skates back toward Max, holding his arms out. “Would you like to do a formal exam? I promise I’m good. I feel good.” He swears, winking at the redhead, scrunching up the side of his face still recovering, immediately wincing. She rolls her eyes and he laughs softly at himself. “Okay, that didn’t feel good, but that’s just because I’m dumb.”

“Not dumb!” She chastises, pointing at him, and the look on her face tells him he’s about to get a scheduled lecture from the entire Party about how he talks about himself again, so he opts to skate away instead, avoiding digging a hole for himself he can’t get out of.

It’s suspiciously quiet and seemingly empty at the apartment that afternoon until Steve ultimately finds Robin lying across his bed. His clothes are scattered everywhere around her. She shoots him a sheepish smile when he drops his bag beside her and raises an eyebrow.

“I was hoping to figure out a few outfits for you to take and look hot for your date with Eddie, but then I realized I have no idea how to dress you to impress a man.” She says, flopping back into the pillows.

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that was supposed to be an insult, but, ya know…” He trails off and laughs as Robin tosses a pillow in his direction.

“You know what I mean!”

“I do,” Steve laughs, catching the pillow and sitting beside Robin, picking at the seam of the pillowcase. “If it’s any consolation, I also have no idea how to dress me to impress guys. But I also don’t think impressing Eddie is going to have anything to do with what I wear. At least I hope it won’t.”

Robin makes a gagging noise, but it’s around a little smile, and Steve rolls his eyes before laying beside her, shoving a few tops out of his way. She waits until he’s not looking at her to speak again, both of them looking at the ceiling over his bed. “I just really want this to work for you. You deserve to be happy.” 

“I am happy, Robbie. I promise.” Steve’s softer, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he honestly means it. Robin turns her head to look at him for a second before she wiggles closer to him and rests her head against his shoulder.

“You’re going to have to actually ask him out on a date, though, you know.” She says after a few beats, which makes him laugh.

“Not if he beats me to it,” He teases, pressing a little kiss to Robin’s temple. “But yeah, I know. I think I’m getting there.”

They lay like that for a few more minutes before Robin eventually shoves herself away from him, demanding he shower before they cuddle anymore. When Steve reenters his bedroom after a hot shower, he finds Robin has paired several tops to pants and folded them together, giving him options for outfits.

“I am humanly capable of dressing myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly 30 years now, you know.” He teases, and she rolls her eyes as he towel dries his hair. He drops the towel into his hamper and tips his head, makes an impressed face. “I wouldn’t have thought to put those pants with that top though, and I think it might just work.” He adds, lifting one of the pairings Robin has come up with and setting it into his travel bag. Robin grins and holds a finger up for him to wait, dashes out of the room, and returns a few moments later with a gray cardigan. “One step too far.” He teases, taking it from her hands and eyeing it skeptically.

“Just trust me on this? You look cuddly when you’re cozy.” She insists, so he sighs and packs it away despite his reservations.

Robin haphazardly throws a few pair of underwear, three tops and a single pair of jeans into a backpack and declares she’s ready to make the trip. 

It’s an early call at the airport on Monday, and Steve’s mostly still asleep as Robin slips into the window seat, pulling him along with her. He uses her shoulder, in combination with a neck pillow, as a headrest to sleep the flight away and he wakes up to his ears popping on the dissent, feeling a little more rested.

The players travel from the airport to check in at the hotel, then a few make their way to do tourist-y things around the city. Steve and Robin tag along, but end up breaking off from the group a few bars in along Broadway. They settle themselves into a corner and share a fishbowl sized concoction, and Steve texts Eddie to let him know they’ve arrived safe and sound and have already hit the town.

Eddie responds to the photo of Steve and Robin sipping from straws in the same bowl with a selfie Gareth took. Eddie’s in the background, using what looks to Steve like an oversized inhaler. He’s up in an instant, making his way around the woman performing on the small stage and outside onto the street where it’s not as noisy so he can call Eddie.

“That was fast,” Eddie teases, and he sounds fine, which confuses Steve further.

“Are you okay? What’s with the inhaler?” He asks, and Eddie’s quiet for a beat.

“Oh, no, Stevie, that’s not a… it’s a nebulizer. I was laying down vocal tracks earlier and it helps keep me from losing my voice.” He explains, then quickly follows up. “Oh my god, did you call because you were worried? That’s so… god, you’re adorable, you know that?”

Steve feels himself blush, and is grateful that they’re on a voice call and not a FaceTime, because Eddie would only tease him more if he could see the shade of red he’s sure his face is. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You’re so fucking sweet, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is like butter, his charm on maximum, and Steve bites at his lip as he listens. “How long are you in town after the game?”

“Back to Chicago on Thursday for two days, then we hit a road stretch for most of next week.” Steve answers, and Eddie hums. “What’s that for?” Steve asks, genuinely curious.

“Means I’m trying to figure out if I want to hit the road, or wait until you’re back in Chicago for more than two days to make the next trip to see you.” 

Steve takes a deep breath at that, smiles, and lets out a huff of air that sounds like a light laugh. “I’m going to go back into the bar and finish this fishbowl, then we’re going back to the hotel to swim and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, after the game, okay?”

“I thought you didn’t drink before games?” Eddie asks, and Steve tries not to melt at the details the other remembers.

“I’m not taking the ice tomorrow, and I… usually just have a cut-off time. When we first met, I was worried I would say something stupid if I started drinking and end up scaring you off.” It’s more honest than he intends to be, more information than he means to share, but he doesn’t regret telling Eddie, and he isn’t embarrassed.

“I think we both know it takes more than that to scare me off, sweetheart.”

Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing at the term of endearment and he can’t tell if Eddie is freaking out or proud of himself, because he doesn’t say anything for a moment before he gives a quick goodbye and hangs up, leaving Steve standing on Broadway, looking up at the “Tootsies Orchid Lounge” sign, trying to keep himself from spiraling.

Some time must pass, then, before Robin comes out to check on him, gently lays a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Dude, you okay?”

“He, uh. He called me sweetheart.” 

“Good grief,” Robin mumbles, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I thought he broke up with you or something.”

“Kinda hard to break up with someone you aren’t dating, Robbie.” Steve shakes his head in an effort to pull himself together.

“Whatever you say,” she tugs his arm, then, leading him back into the bar where they finish their drink and head back to the hotel. 

~~~

Open mouth, insert foot. The Eddie Special. The one thing becoming a constant during his conversations with Steve.

“What did you call him?” Jeff asks around a smile after Eddie hangs up the phone, grabs the nearest throw pillow, and shoves his face into it.

“I’m pretty sure he said sweetheart.” Gareth provides in the least helpful moment he’s ever been to Eddie, confirming he had, indeed, used a fucking pet name while speaking with Steve.

“How did he take that?” Jeff is softer, no longer following the initial taunting route he seemed to be heading down, likely sensing Eddie’s unraveling.

“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.” He speaks into the pillow, muffled, before he drops it into his lap and stares blankly at the wall.

“Well, me and Jeff’ll be there tomorrow. We can try to prevent any catastrophes within our capabilities?” Gareth smacks Jeff’s leg, who nods in agreement, and Eddie sighs and throws himself back into the studio sofa.

The next day, they get to Bridgestone Arena early enough to grab snacks and not run into too many people who recognize them before filling into their suite. Eddie settles into his seat, comfortable with the temperature now that he knows how to dress for a game. 

The teams eventually make their way to the ice, and Eddie zeroes in on Steve until he skates into the Blackhawk’s box after the anthem.

This time around, Eddie manages to follow a good deal of what’s happening. He’s learned a lot about the game since his first attendance, and he finds it easier to track the puck now than it had seemed previously. He watches as the Preds make an early goal, how the Blackhawks are quick to respond by securing their own point. Watches as a play goes sideways, and a Blackhawk player ends up flipping over another player, then lays on the ice in just the right position to know something is wrong, that he’s hurt.

Play doesn’t stop for long, and when things pick back up, Steve takes the ice. Eddie snaps his fingers between Jeff and Gareth once before he’s on his feet, cheering. The boys join him, and soon, most of the Arena is giving Steve a standing ovation. Steve, though, is facing the direction of Eddie’s suite and gives a little salute before dropping into position, ready for the puck to hit the ice. 

~~~

When the backup forward goes down, Steve springs to his feet from inside the visitors box. An attempt at goal had drawn everyone near the Blackhawk’s net. A Predator had dove for the puck, and things went south fast. Watching from the sidelines was like watching in slow motion, as the med staff checked in on everyone involved and eventually carted the forward off the ice to be evaluated.

Behind him, the coaches evaluate their options as Steve checks his laces and lifts his helmet before tapping the coach's arm.

“I got this,” he promises, settling the helmet over his head and securing the cage over his face. With just a moment of hesitation, the coaches agree and Steve skates to center ice.

He bends down, waiting for the Predator’s forward to join him in their wait for the ref with the puck, but cheers erupt from one end of the arena and slowly, the noise wraps around the room. 

Steve straightens to look around, taking in who exactly was cheering. Fans in both Blackhawks gear and Predators are standing together, cheering and clapping. He glances around, confused before he notices a few of the players on both sides of the ice are also clapping toward him. That’s when it clicks, that all the noise is for him. 

He turns to where the cheering originated, zeroes in on the curly hair over a jersey with his number on the sleeves and he can’t help but grin. Steve gives a little gesture in Eddie’s direction, before skating back to the center ice with the Predator’s forward.

“Welcome back, Harrington.” The other forward says, just as the ref drops the puck and the game picked back up.

~~~

The Blackhawks don’t win the game, but it feels like the cement is drying around the memory in his mind as he showers after the game. He’d played well, even scored a goal, but the Predators manage to get a buzzer-beater in at the last minute after tying things up near the end of the third. But the cheering when he stepped back out onto the ice was an experience he’d never forget.

Eddie texts Steve the address to a brewery in East Nashville, and that’s where he and Robin head as everyone else makes their way into the city. 

Upon arrival, Robin b-lines across the parking lot for the door, but Steve spots a thin trail of smoke that catches his attention. He follows it, smiles when it turns out to be exactly who he expected. Eddie’s propped up against the side of the building, foot resting flat as his back against the wall behind him, smoking a cigarette.

“Kinda figured I’d find you at the end of the smoke trail.” Steve teased softly, catching Eddie’s attention. 

“Looks like I’ve been caught, then,” Eddie laughs, and takes a long, final drag from the cigarette before putting it out into the ash urn. He blows the smoke away from Steve, and keeps a smile on his face. “Wanna grab a drink? I had the guys order appetizers, but we can get real food, too, if you want?”

“I actually….” Steve hesitates, and Eddie raises his eyebrows. Steve considers dropping it, just agreeing to go inside and eat and have a good time with everyone. But then Eddie’s face softens into a little smile and Steve’s chest warms. “Fuck it. Do you want to grab dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

Eddie visibly blue screens. There’s no emotion on his face as he watches Steve before him for a moment, then breaks out into a grin. “You asking me on a date, Harrington?”

“I am.” Steve nods, grins back at Eddie, watches as he twists a curl around his finger and pulls it in front of his face, twisting his body so his arm is propped against the wall, facing Steve head on.

“I think I would like that, yeah.” Eddie agrees. Steve smiles, feels like something has lifted between the two of them, and holds his hand out. Eddie tangles their fingers together and lets Steve pull him into the brewery.

Robin seems suspicious as they enter, but drops her interest as they sit at the end of the table across from one another, sipping on beers and munching on nachos and mozzarella sticks, chatting about the game and the new music the band is recording. 

And if Steve manages to keep his composure when Eddie hooks an ankle around his own under the table, it’s because he’s an adult and not a high schooler tripping over his own feet to impress the guy across from him, and totally not because he knows the entire rest of the table would have a field day if he got flustered by the littlest touch.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Peony - Steven Grant x Reader

Peony (Paeonia) - Shame, bashfulness

Summary: A slight comedy of errors forces reader and Steven to admit and act on some spicy feelings.

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: Reader is AFAB/Female presenting/has breasts, Steven being adorably embarrassed and awkward, use of "tits", male masturbation (non-explicitly described), excessive euphemisms for masturbation, discussions of masturbation, lots of kissing, making out

Day 10 coming in with some more spice! I love the Moon Boys and thought I'd give Steven a chance to ramble his way into our hearts.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

You were scrambling to clean your flat as you waited for Steven — he was coming over to watch ‘The Mummy’ which, surprisingly, he had never seen. After your shift, you’d come home with the full intention of cleaning but had fallen asleep on your couch instead, only having woken up five minutes ago when he called to ask what you liked on your pizza. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness as you gathered all the dirty clothes on your bedroom floor and chucked them into the closet. You’d gotten rid of the lingering trash on your coffee table, taken care of the dishes in the sink, and spot-cleaned your bathroom. 

Nothing like the panic-induced cleaning of a woman whose work-friend-turned-crush is on his way over. 

Looking down at your outfit, you realized you were still in your work attire — pencil skirt and fancy-ish blouse, both now wrinkled from your nap. You stripped off your blouse and bra and were halfway off with your skirt when you heard something ‘slap’ against the floor behind you. 

Without thinking, you spun around and saw Steven in the doorway, mouth agape and a pizza box at his feet. It happened so fast — you seeing him, his eyes glancing at your bare tits, back to your face, and his hasty retreat with a steady stream of ‘I’m sorrys” falling out of his mouth. 

“Wait, Steven!” you shouted after him, grabbing your discarded blouse and trying to chase after him, but he was already gone. You sighed heavily against the door to your flat, tapping your forehead against it.

Part of you was horrified — Steven had just seen you half-naked and not in the sexy way — while the other part of you was excited. Steven had seen you half-naked! Perhaps now he would make a move or, barring that, let you know he liked you as much as you liked him.

But that’s not what happened. The next day you saw him at work, you waved but he grabbed the phone, fumbling it and pretending to be in the middle of a call. 

When you were on your break, you headed toward the gift shop but just as you got there, you caught sight of Steven dashing around the corner with a box full of stuffed Basts. 

By the time your shift was over, you’d had enough. You strode up to the gift shop counter, trapping him behind it. He had the temerity to look scared of you, so you softened your approach and spoke quietly so none of the people milling about would hear you.

“Look, Steven, you saw my tits, big whoop,” you said, “I’m not mad at you or anything, there’s no need to avoid me. We’re still friends, yeah?” 

He ran a hand through his thick curls and sighed. “‘M sorry, course we’re still friends. I just…I wasn’t expecting…those when I walked in.” He gestured to your chest and you laughed.

You playfully punched him in the shoulder, “Well, I hope you learned a lesson about knocking next time. And, hey, thanks for the pizza.” 

He laughed and the tension between you evaporated. It had always been like that with Steven - easy going, honest, like nothing was too complicated that you couldn’t laugh your way out of. 

“You still haven’t seen The Mummy and we need to remedy that as soon as possible,” you said semi-seriously. 

“Tell ya what,” he said, “Why don’t you come to mine tonight and we’ll watch it. You bring the pizza this time.” 

“It’s a da- plan.” You stopped yourself before you could say ‘date.’ 

_____

In your excitement for the evening’s activities, you ended up being about ten minutes early to Steven’s flat. He’d texted you his front door code and said he’d leave his door open since you’d be coming with your hands full. Half-jokingly, you knocked softly on the door before letting yourself in. 

Steven’s flat was unlike yours in that it was one big room divided by his overstuffed bookshelves and piles of even more books. The only room with a door was the bathroom, and that was little more than a curtain. You were surprised you didn’t immediately see him, but you heard a grunt coming from the bedroom area. 

You put the pizza on the kitchen table then made your way toward the noise. 

When you got closer, you saw Steven was facing away from you on the far side of his bed. He looked to be stroking something in his lap—oh. 

Oh.

You didn’t manage to silence your gasp when you realized what he was doing, and he jumped up in shock, yanking his gray sweatpants up so you didn’t see anything. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh, God, sorry!” you said, covering your eyes. In your haste to turn away, you managed to smack your elbow into the corner of one of his bookshelves. Pain shot down your forearm because of course you’d managed to hit your funny bone. You gripped it, hissing at the pain with your eyes closed and tripping over one of the book piles and ending up splayed out on the floor.

Steven cried your name and dashed over, helping you sit up and checking you for injuries. He helped you stand up, making sure you were steady before taking a step back. 

“I didn’t see anything,” you insisted, crouching down to help him pick up the books you knocked over. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I knocked, I swear!” 

“Please, don’t worry-” 

“I’m so sorry, Steven,” you said, looking up from the small stack of books you’d balanced on your knees. His brow was furrowed, cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“No, love, I’m sorry. I knew you were on your way but I couldn’t help myself. Not like it’s an ongoing issue, like compulsive or anything, but I couldn’t help but remember yesterday and, well,” he paused, gesturing toward your chest again, “and I didn’t want to greet you at the door with a raging hard-on so I thought I’d just, y’know, take care of it real quick but then you walked in and now I’m…rambling. Here, I’ll take those.” 

He reached for the books you were holding and you handed them off. He set them on a different stack a few steps away and rubbed the back of his head, facing away from you again. 

“Wait,” you said, brain finally catching up with what he was saying, “You…you were thinking about me? While you were…shining your statue?”

Steven let out a bark of nervous laughter, “Shining my statue?”

“Yeah, you know, shining the statue, flogging the dolphin, spanking the monkey, playing with the one-eyed snake, having a me-some.” 

You both burst out laughing at that. When you calmed down, he was shaking his head in disbelief while he fiddled with the too-long sleeves of his jumper. 

“So um, I brought pizza,” you said, motioning to the kitchen table, “if you still want to watch the movie. But if you’d rather I go, I totally get it.” 

“No!” he blurted, one hand reaching out to catch you even though you hadn’t moved an inch. “Let’s watch the movie, yeah?”

The two of you moved in sync, gathering plates and the pizza before settling on his bed, his laptop between you as he queued up the movie. You ate in companionable silence until Evie was bargaining for Rick’s life in the prison when Steven hit the spacebar and paused it. 

You turned to him to find him already looking at you. The look in his eyes was sheepish, as if he didn’t want to say something but knew he had to. Your nerves kicked in — was all of this a bigger deal than you thought? Had he been stewing on it? Your instinct was to diffuse tension with humor but, as you’d been told by more than one ex, sometimes it felt like you didn’t take things seriously as you should. 

“What’s up?” you asked. 

“I, uh, I didn’t answer your question.” 

You tilted your head, confused. “What question?” 

“About thinking about you while I, uh, wank.” 

“Oh,” 

“Cuz I do. Think about you. Not that I see you as just a sexual object, I think you’re absolutely brilliant but you’re also dead sexy and after what happened at yours it’s like I, I can’t get you out of my head so I thought avoiding you would make it go away but that just made my massive crush on you way worse-” 

He wasn’t just rambling, he was rambling about how much he liked you — how he stroked himself to the thought of you and thought you were brilliant and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. But the most important part was that he had a crush on you, too. 

You cut him off with a kiss, having heard more than enough.

Gentle at first, allowing him plenty of room to pull away if he wanted, but he pressed his lips against yours instead. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck, the other sliding around your waist. 

You brushed your tongue against his lower lip and he opened for you, licking into your mouth in a way that made you clench around nothing. Fuck — you had caught him fucking his fist to the thought of you half-naked. That thought plus his hand wandering under the hem of your t-shirt had you incredibly wet, almost dripping. 

Eventually, you came up for air. Steven looked gorgeous, lips slightly swollen from kissing and his blissed-out expression. You wondered what he looked like as he came, a smile forming on your face as you realized you would find out if you kept going. 

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” he asked, running a hand over your hair and letting it rest on your cheek. You turned your head and kissed his palm as an answer, then moved to the sensitive skin of his wrist. 

“You,” you replied simply. 

“C’mere,” he said, his hand on your hips pulling you over so you were straddling his lap. He sat up and kissed you again, hungrier this time, his hands roaming freely along your back, over your breasts, along your arms. His lips left yours and he kissed along your jaw, down your neck. Heat spread from every point of contact, leaving you wanting more but not without a little teasing first. 

“Steven,” you whined, “what about the movie?” 

“Sod the fucking movie,” he growled against your neck, one hand reaching over to slam his laptop shut and coming back to rest on your ass, pulling you against him. 

“Gonna show you what I’ve wanted to do to ya since we met,” he promised, and you bit your lip to keep from beaming at him.

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie was dealing with a lot of firsts today. 

The biggest one being the first time he was getting married. Though, Eddie really hoped it wouldn’t be the last. If his fantasies about this day came true he was going to have to insist on a vow renewal somewhere down the line. Fuck it, if even a quarter of what he wanted came through he’d still insist on it. He was never not going to like showing Steve off, and this was the most ostentatious way he could get away with. 

Next, and most distressing, this was the first time Eddie had ever felt the lethal mixture of being incredibly happy and horrifyingly nauseous. He had no idea that a person could feel both things at once, and Eddie was starting to think the ability was just a flaw of the human condition. 

And last, he is a 100 percent sure he had never been this damn nervous in his entire life. Especially when the source of it was entirely self-made. It was an uncomfortable reminder of how he used to feel with Steve, back when he decided to be a fucking crazy person. 

But this was so much worse. 

“You really need to relax,” Chrissy said for the hundredth time, watching as Eddie fiddled in front of the mirror, “That anti-perspirant can only go so far.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. He was on one today, he knew that. But knowing it wasn’t stopping any of his anxiety. Eddie was trying to fix his hair in the mirror, suddenly unpleased with how it was styled but unwilling to go bother the stylist that did it. She was busy enough with everyone else, let alone the fact that he didn’t even know why he didn’t like it. If anything he was just making it worse. But then again, Steve always said he liked his hair wild, right?

“Hon, I’m serious,” Chrissy sighed, grabbing for his hand to drag him away, “You are driving yourself crazy for nothing. Everything is going to be okay. He’s going to be there. Are you forgetting that it was Steve who asked you to marry him?”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even now. The little shit had beaten him to the punch by a matter of days, completely ruining Eddie’s elaborate proposal plans. No, instead Steve decided to do it in the dead of night, getting down on one knee in the middle of their living room after getting destroyed at an impromptu game of scrabble. 

Eddie should have seen it coming, he really should have. But he had been so caught up trying to plan his own proposal he had completely missed the signs. Like how Steve kept picking movies that involved proposals and weddings, and how he was always very interested in what Eddie thought of them. Eddie just hadn’t realized how many notes he’d been taking around his innocuous comments. Not until Steve showed him the scrawled out list he had made down the line:

Not public, he said he wouldn’t want to cry in front of a bunch of strangers. Not again (whoops, sorry babe but at least this one would have been happy tears?)

Close to a bed or a bed-like surface for “celebrating” (I should have seen that one coming)

Diamonds are apparently ~stupid~ so look at colored stones instead (maybe emerald for his birthstone? Stick with sliver tones.)

No where cold so he can focus on the moment instead of freezing

Make it a surprise (But not outside? I don’t want to wait till summer though. Maybe I can do it randomly? Like when his back is turned?)

Write. A. Speech.

Eddie had to give it to him, his notes weren’t in vain. It had been amazing. Tailor-made to him in a way he didn’t even fully get until it was over. Because he had started crying, right in the middle of their living room with no one but Steve to see him. And it had felt so fucking safe. There was no embarrassment, no worrying over someone he didn’t know taking their moment to share with more strangers, none of it. It was just them. 

He had fucking loved the ring, the colors, the style, all of it fit him perfectly. The only thing he loved more had been dragging Steve straight to their bedroom spoil him rotten for hours. The speech had been beautiful, for what he had managed to hear through his own excitement and tears. He had ended up asking Steve to write it down for him considering how he couldn’t trust his own memory. Now it sat on a cute index card he kept in his wallet, right alongside his cute scrawled out list, a constant reminder that Steve Harrington wanted him.

It had been perfect. Almost too perfect. Perfect enough for Eddie to be where he was right now, the doubt of how he ended up with Mr. Perfect. 

from the upcoming last chapter of this fic

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 first!

Preview: You and Jessie have dinner at her new place.

Warnings: it’s angsty yall, buckle up (just for a bit), swearing, very brief mention of sex (no descriptions, nothing like that, but it gets mentioned)

WC: 5.5k

A/N: I think this is the end of this series. I never intend to make it more than 1 part honestly, but you all enjoyed it enough so here we are at Part 4. This also ended up more angsty than I had planned so, whoops :)

It was nearing 5pm when your Uber pulled up in front of the address Jessie had sent you. You thanked the driver and hopped out. You hadn’t thought much of the address, not noticing that there wasn’t an apartment number or a unit letter attached to the end of it, so you were surprised to find yourself standing in front of a house instead of an apartment complex as you had expected.

It was a small little blue house, wood fencing all around, a good sized front yard, a few trees, it was exactly what you would expect Jessie to pick out. 

You pulled your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to let her know you had arrived. You had gotten back to the hotel, quickly thrown on a Nike sweatshirt and a fitted pair of gray joggers.

“Hi.” You look up to see Jessie walking through the doorway and down the steps toward the fence gate. You put your phone back in your pocket, not needing to let her know you were here anymore. She reached the gate, unlatched it and held it open for you to come inside. You notice that she quickly looks you up and down as you walk through into her front yard. You can’t help but do the same to her.

Jessie’s hair was down, still slightly wet from her postgame shower, she was wearing a lavender colored long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She looked cozy, as if she was ready to cuddle up on the couch for the evening like she had mentioned wanting to do.

“You bought a house?” Your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but ask. 

“Yeah, I did. I lived with Janine and her fiancé for the first few weeks while I looked at places, and then I had to leave for the gold cup and I just couldn’t find any apartment that felt like home. I started looking at houses instead once I got back. This was actually the first one I saw and I really liked it. It’s not too big, which works since it’s just me right now but has some room if I need it in the future.” Your brain wanders to the thought of Jessie having her own kids in the future, you knew she wanted them and you had seen how good she was with kids over the years. 

“Plus I figured even if I’m only here for a couple years, I can keep the house. It’s only been a few weeks but I love the area. I'd consider coming back here to settle when soccer is over.” She opened the front door, stepping back to let you walk in first. 

You slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat next to the door where Jessie’s shoes lay neatly in a row. Looking up you realize you're standing in her living room, there’s a large gray couch, a small table in front of it, a tv, a bookshelf that’s filled with books and art and other trinkets. 

“You can keep a plant alive now?” You tease her as you see she has a variety of green plants. In college you had watched her become what you described as a serial killer of plants.

“I’m getting better. A lot of them were housewarming gifts from my teammates so I maybe just haven't had enough time to kill them.” 

Stepping out of the entryway you walk over to her bookshelf, looking at the various titles, there’s a couple photos placed on the bookshelf, one with her parents after she had won the gold medal, one of her and her Chelsea teammates holding up a couple trophies, one of her and her siblings all wearing matching Christmas pajamas. The opening to the kitchen was just to your right, you step in its direction before turning to look at Jessie who was following closely behind you.

“Can I see the kitchen?” You don’t want to invade her privacy by inviting yourself to take a tour of her place.

As if she read your mind she gestures her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Go ahead, I can just give you the whole tour now while we wait for the food, it should be on its way by now. I was also thinking we can watch the Angel City and Orlando game, only if you want it should be on at 7. ” She looks at the clock mounted on the wall. 

“Yeah that sounds good.” You reply as you step into the kitchen.

Her kitchen was cute, the same wood accent from the outside of the house scattered throughout. She offered you an ice pack for your nose as you stood looking at her fridge. You declined, having just taken the pain meds, it was bearable pain. 

As you continue to move through her house Jessie makes a few comments here and there about what she liked about the house so much, the wood flooring, the large windows that let in natural light, the little nook that she had set up to be a place to read. Hearing her talk about the little things, paint colors, furniture was so simple and yet it made you feel like you were back to your old friendship. The simple minded discussions, the joking around, all the tiny moments you would have with her, it hit you how much you really missed just her existence and company.

You get to two closed doors at the end of the hallway, you point at the one closest to you and look back at Jessie.

“Linen closet, nothing exciting unless you want to see towels.” You move your finger to point at the other. “My bedroom.”

“Oh,” You’re not sure what to say, the closed door seemed like an obvious sign to not go in. Jessie again, able to tell what was running through your head, speaks up.

“You can go in, I just close the door out of habit. I don’t have anything to hide.” Wanting to see her bedroom, you push open the door. It reminds you a little bit of her bedroom in your college apartment. Not much as far as decor, just a few special things on display throughout. Her bed in the center of the room, a nightstand on one side.

“Sorry it’s still a mess in here, I haven’t had a ton of time to dedicate to unpacking and I was more focused on the rooms everyone else would see.” You look around, trying to find the mess she was referring to. Her bed was made, no clothes scattered across the floor, no pile of clean laundry to be put away, no water bottles on bedsides, not even dust, just a few boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the one on top open as if she had been in the middle of unpacking when you had arrived.

“If this is what you consider a mess, we have completely different standards of mess.” You let out a laugh, Jessie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile and slow nod. 

You’re interrupted by her phone ringing, she picks it up and before answering the call she points around the corner. “If you want to see my bathroom, it's through the closet. I’ll be right back.” 

She walks out of the room and you hear her answer the call. You take a second look around her bedroom, looking at the couple of personal items that were scattered, photos of her and her Canada teammates, photos of her family, photos of skylines and nature that you assume she had taken. She has her array of cameras all neatly set on a shelf, displaying them. Making your way over to her closet you walk through to peek into her bathroom. It looked like a bathroom, nothing too special about it, a shower, toilet, a vanity with two sinks, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and other bathroom things just placed neatly around one side.

You turn back to go wait in her bedroom being done looking at the bathroom. You walk into her closet, taking a quick glance around, the closet had more boxes in it than unpacked clothing items. Each box was neatly labeled, varying in sizes, all stacked on top of one another. You look at what clothes she had unpacked, it was nearly all clothes for training, one pile had clothes with the maple leaf and the name Canada across them, the other a mix of red, green, some blue, with the thorn’s logo and Portland across them. Looking back toward the exit of the closet your eye catches on a box, more specifically the label of the box catches your eye.

It was a box with your name on it. Printed carefully along the side, in Jessie’s handwriting. You could feel your heart begin to race. You couldn’t move, your eyes staring, your own name looking back at you. Why did she have a box with your name on it? 

“Foods here.” You didn’t even hear Jessie coming, the sound of your blood rushing through your ears muffling outside noises. She comes around the corner, you quickly look away, not wanting her to see you and think you were snooping through her stuff. You weren’t, but you could see how it could look suspicious, but then again she was the one with a box labeled for you. She must’ve seen your sudden movement as she looks at you with a questioning look, then at where the box sat, you see the moment she knows you’ve seen the box. Her eyes widen and dart back to you. You expect her to say something, she does, just not about the box.

“It’s on the kitchen table.” Her face returns to a relaxed state, almost emotionless.

“Perfect.” Mirroring her behavior you decide maybe you’ll both just pretend that box doesn’t exist. Maybe you’ll just let it eat away at you for years, just like you had done with your feelings for the girl. You follow her out of the closet and bedroom back down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

You both make a plate, grab a water, and sit down at her kitchen table. She sits first and you’re then forced to make the choice between sitting next to her or across from her. You decide on sitting across, hoping she doesn’t judge your choice. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the sound of silverware. Jessie keeps her eyes down, looking very interested in the plate of food sitting before her. You knew it was going to be awkward, seeing her in a non-football setting for the first time in so long, you were prepared for the small talk, asking about your family, your friends, the weather, you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. Both of you sitting here thinking about that box brought a whole different level of unexpected discomfort, it was making you itch.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you having a box with another girl's name on it?” Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the question come out, you quickly kick yourself for asking that way, bringing her girlfriend into this conversation. Jessie picks up her head and puts her fork down.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” Choosing the wrong time to take a sip from your glass you choke slightly causing a coughing fit. Jessie just looks at you as you try to calm down. Once you stop coughing she continues muttering the words, “and she actually did mind. A lot.”

Your brain is spinning, you heard her keep talking but your mind kept repeating the words she had spoken “not my girlfriend anymore”.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you split.”  You now feel guilty for bringing up the girl.

“Of course you didn’t, you stopped talking to me, you didn’t get to have the privilege of knowing that we split.” Her tone of voice was shifting, becoming annoyed. Wanting to ask more but also not wanting to pry on a relationship you barely knew about.

“Why didn’t you just get rid of the stuff? If that would’ve made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses looking down at her hands. “I mean I do, it’s,” she sighs. “To be fair it wasn’t just the box, she had always been a little suspicious of our relationship, I told her the truth, that there’s never been anything between us, we didn’t have a history. And she believed me, I think, at least at the start. But then when you stopped talking to me, she’d catch me watching your games, checking up on you, looking at old photos of us, and she eventually found some clothing of yours that I had put away, along with the notes we used to write each other, the birthday cards, the Polaroids, everything. I wasn’t intentionally hiding but it was out of sight out of mind for me. I didn’t need the constant reminder that I had been dumped by my best friend. She again made the assumption that we had dated, or at least had slept together. She read the letters claiming friends to talk to each other in that manner. That was just the start of the mess.”

Nodding along to her story, you try to show her you’re paying attention, and you were, it was just hard when your mind was drifting to a hundred different thoughts. 

 “And then the rumors started about my transfer. I hadn’t told her about it, I hadn't even mentioned the idea of leaving London. I wasn’t even sure it was going to go through, it was a lot of money for Portland and I was waiting on visas and medical and all that bureaucracy and we got into an argument about it. She accused me of moving for the wrong reasons, she brought up you.” Jessie pauses for a minute as if to collect her thoughts before she continues.

“ I then said some things about you I shouldn’t have said to her and then it was over with her shortly after.” The volume of her voice drops as she rushed her words at the end of her sentence.

“You could’ve just thrown it all out at the start, if that would’ve fixed things with her, I wouldn’t have known.” Your statement is true, you didn’t even know she had kept all those things you wouldn’t have known if she had gotten rid of them.

“It wasn’t that easy, I know we weren’t talking, and like I said we weren’t even friends, but fuck I missed you so much. You were my best friend for nearly 5 years, only to get dropped without a reason and I was mad at you, sure but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of that box of stuff.”

“There was a reason, I hope you know that.”

“Well you didn't give me a reason, if you just would’ve told me I could’ve fixed it or apologized or something. Instead I just had to sit and run through every decision I had ever made questioning where I went wrong with you, what I did to hurt you.” You can see tears welding in her eyes as she continues to stare at you, despite the tears, her eyes are cold and make you feel tiny under her gaze.

You stayed sitting, staring back at her, having no clue on what to say to her, stuck between wanting to apologize and also wanting to yell back at her. You silence allows her to continue.

“I would’ve done anything to have you back in my life, all you had to do was ask, but it felt like you wanted nothing to do with me. And that fucking hurt.” Her fist comes down hard on the table, it startles you, making you sit back away from where you had been leaning against the table. You cross your arms as you sit back and bow your head to stare down.

“I couldn’t ask.” It comes out quiet, from your mouth almost as if it was an accident.

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask you to fix it, it wouldn’t have been fair.” Speaking louder you bring your head back up to look at her.

Now it’s her turn to say nothing. She looks from you to where her hands sat on the table. She just waits, giving you the space to give her more information. You know you owe her the explanation, what you don’t expect is the word vomit that comes out once you start.

“I couldn’t ask you to break up with her, I couldn’t tell you I was jealous of her, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you those things, you seemed so happy with her, it wouldn’t have been fair. I had my chance for 4 years before she existed to tell you and I didn’t, but I also couldn’t stand seeing you so happy with her, it tore me apart, I wanted you to be happy and you were. It just sucked that you were happy with someone else. It sucked trying to be a supportive friend, I hated having to hear about your dates, and hearing about your first kiss, and I really hated having to hear all about the first time you two fucked.” The last word coming off with extra emphasis, the memory of her call to you after their night together briefly plays in your mind, only making you more upset.

“I hated it Jessie, but I sat through it for as long as I could because I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be a good friend to you. I wanted to still be your best friend but I couldn’t and all I wanted was for her to no longer exist. I started to think horrible things about her and your relationship and that’s when I knew I needed to take a step back for my own health. I was no longer being a good friend to you. So I stepped back.” Your voice was loud, you were slightly out of breath barely stopping between words as you yelled across toward her, you’re not sure why you were yelling, you weren’t trying to yell at her. It wasn’t her fault she had found someone to make her happy that wasn’t you. But the past year of frustration had built and built and unfortunately this was the time the wall broke, and here you were practically shouting at Jessie across her own kitchen table.

Jessie doesn’t say anything. She stands up from the table, the sound of her chair scraping the floor was the only noise in an otherwise silent room. Grabbing her own empty plate and then extending her hand she offers to take yours. You pass it to her. She walks them over to the sink, putting them down, running the water over them. You stand up, not wanting to feel like a terrible house guest, you start packing the leftovers back up. You open the fridge door and place them inside. The water shuts off and Jessie puts the plates on a mat to dry. She walks past you, not saying anything as she moves into the living room. You hear the noise of the couch, assuming she has sat down you take a few steps toward the other room. 

She’s sitting on the couch, bent over with her head in her hands. Her thumb is rubbing against her temple and she’s bouncing her knees. Leaning against the doorway you stay quiet, you feel bad for yelling at her, seeing her overwhelmed like this because of you, tugged on your heart. You wanted to rush to her side and hug her but you also knew that would probably be the worst thing you could do. You stayed put, leaned against the wall just watching her. She lets out a large breath and then sits up. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t,” you shake your head, not sure what she’s asking. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you look like you want to, so what? Just say it. Don’t be a coward again.” Her words are harsh, insulting you in a way she hadn’t ever before. To be fair to her you realized you had also never yelled at her before either.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Hiding your feelings for 6 whole years, 5 of those years when we were best friends feels a little cowardly, but that’s just my opinion.” You hadn’t seen Jessie like this often, especially towards you, she was almost being mean, not caring what she said to you or how she was saying it. 

“Fine, what did you say about me to her? Before you broke up, you said that you said stuff to her about me that you shouldn’t have. What did you say?” You can’t help but ask, the question of what she had said had been sitting in your brain since she mentioned it.

When Jessie doesn’t respond right away you push her. “Don’t be a coward.” You mock her tone from earlier using her own words. She rolls her eyes at you.

“She accused me of moving to try and be closer to you, she said I wanted to rekindle our relationship. And by that point I couldn’t take her nagging about you anymore and so I was honest with her. I told her the reason I had kept all of your stuff, the reason I checked up on you, the reason I would look at old photos of us, even though you didn’t care about me anymore. I had to tell her my memories of you were comforting for me.” She looks you in the eyes for a second before looking down at her hands.

“Those memories felt like home, that you felt like home. And I then had to tell her that was something I had never felt with her.”

You’re not sure how to respond, trying to process all of Jessie’s words before saying anything back to her. You move off the wall and sit down on the couch, putting some distance between where you both sat.

“Naturally, admitting having feelings for someone else to your current partner doesn’t go over well so that was the end of that.” She mumbles as you sit down.

“You have feelings for me?” Maybe you had heard her wrong, doubting that this conversation was actually happening. She slowly blinks at you.

“Did they check you for a concussion after the hit?” Her question only confuses you more. 

“What?” 

“Oh my god.” Jessie throws her hands up. “Yes, I have feelings for you. That’s what I just said, I just didn’t really know that they were those kinds of feelings until you stopped talking to me and I realized how important you were and that it felt like I was missing a part of me that no one besides you could fill. And then I had her, and that was fine for a little bit, but she wasn’t you.”

You have half a thought to call her out, call her a coward the way she had to you for hiding her own feelings, but decide against it. 

The silence takes over the room, you’re not sure what to say to her. What do you say to someone you’ve been secretly in love with for 5 years when they finally admit they want you back? Where do you even start to make up for the time you both wasted? Where do you go from this conversation? 

Thankfully you don’t have to figure it out at that moment as both your phone and Jessie’s vibrate and light up, both of you reviving the notification that the Angel City and Orlando game was set to start. 

Jessie looks up from reading the notification, “Do you still want to watch the game? I understand if you don’t, I probably wouldn’t want to stay around someone who called me a coward.” 

“I want to stay, if that’s okay. You can yell at me and call me whatever, but just being around you has really made me realize how much I’ve missed your company. So, I’d like to stay if you’ll let me?” 

“Of course.” She reaches for the remote on her coffee table and points it toward the tv turning it on.

“Can I get that ice pack you offered earlier?” No longer caught up in the intense conversation you feel the pain from your nose starting to return in full force. Jessie tosses the tv remote in your direction and hops up from the couch immediately, rushing to her freezer. She comes back with an ice pack, a bag of frozen veggies, a towel, and a bottle of pain meds. 

“Do you want to just sit and hold it or lay down? I can get you a different pillow. I brought the towel in case the direct ice is too cold. And if you want these.” She gives the bottle of medicine a shake. “I also wasn’t sure if the ice pack would sit nicely on your face so I got this.” She holds out the package of frozen vegetables to you. 

“Yeah that’ll actually probably work best.” You take it from her hand. “Thanks.” You add. She placed the pain meds on the coffee table and leaves to put the other ice pack back in the freezer. You use the remote to find the game, and Jessie returns as they commentators start talking about the starting lineups for each side.

When Jessie sits down you notice she sits a lot closer to you then the two of you had been before. Your hips and thighs are only inches apart. She leans back and puts her feet up onto the table. 

You both sit in what is now a more comfortable silence, watching the game. You both make comments here and there about footwork, ball movement, passes, shots, critiquing and complementing the players. At halftime Jessie stands up, takes the now thawed bag of vegetables from you and brings it back to the freezer. She comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and waters.

When she sits back down, she closes the gap between the two of you. The outside of her leg now resting against the outside of yours. She places the popcorn bowl so that it rests on both of you. Jessie leans back to rest against the back of the couch and you do the same. The game starts back up again, you both focusing your attention back to the tv. 

It only takes 5 minutes into the second half for you to feel Jessie shift in her seat. She’s moving only slightly but being hyper aware that she’s pressed up against you, you can’t help but notice her movements. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her lean her head over, placing it to rest on your shoulder, leaving her body more forcefully against yours. Your whole body tenses, not wanting to move and disturb her. 

You stay like this for a couple minutes. Deciding you couldn’t let her make all the moves you glance down to see Jessie’s hands resting on top of each of her thighs. You place your own hands in the same position, then move the one closest to her, in her direction. You move just as slow as she had until your pinky finger is hovering just over hers. You slowly let your hand fall on top of hers, she doesn’t pull away, or tell you off. Instead she flips her hand so her palm is now facing up. Eager to finish what you had started you now quickly move your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. You wait a minute, then let the pad of your thumb gently rub against her thumb.

You stayed in that position, holding her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched the remainder of the game. Wanting more time with Jessie you desperately were hoping for an insane amount of added time, unfortunately only 3 minutes are added and the game is quick to end.

Jessie pulls her head off your shoulder, sitting up with a yawn.

“I should probably get back.” You say, realizing it was nearing 9pm and while you didn’t have a curfew, you still didn’t want to be caught coming back too late by any of your teammates knowing you’d never hear the end of it, especially since they knew you were at Jessie's.

“Right.” Jessie stands up from the couch and flips a light on. The sun had gone down as you watched the game and the two of you were in the dark without the light from the tv. She holds her hand out to you, you take it and stand up. You quickly pull out your phone and order an Uber, thankful you were in a larger city and your ride would be here in less than 5 minutes. You move toward the door, bending down to slip your shoes on before standing up facing Jessie. 

“It feels weird to say that I had a really good time tonight with all the yelling that happened, but I did. I had a really good time with you Jessie.” You smile at her.

“I had a good time too, this was nice. I’ve missed you.” She replies to you. She holds her arms out to you, offering a hug. You take a step toward her, leaning in to wrap your arms around her waist as she places hers on your shoulders. You stay hugging, longer than a normal friend’s goodbye hug would be. You both release the hold on each other but you don’t move back from her. You stay face to face, your eyes staring back at her brown ones. 

Much to your surprise Jessie is the one who makes the move. One of her hands comes up to your cheek, her fingers are warm and soft on your skin. Her eyes break contact with yours dropping to your lips quickly and then back up. She starts to lean in but stops just moments before your lips would connect.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is barely audible, quieter than a whisper. 

“Yes.” Before you have a second to think about kissing her it’s already happening. It’s a gentle kiss, her lips just placed on top of yours. She starts to pull away a second later, but you let your head chase her lips, giving her a bit more forceful of a kiss. In doing so, you bump your nose against hers causing you to pull back quickly from her, hand coming to clutch your nose.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot about your nose.” Jessie’s eyes are wide as her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand holding your face.

“It’s okay Jess, that was my fault, I forgot too for a second.” You wipe your hand under your nose and look down at your fingers making sure you’re not bleeding again. “It’s not crooked or anything right?”

“No, but those black eyes are starting to come in.” Her eyes dart between both of yours. You both let out a small laugh and then are left in silence.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, on a proper date, if you’d want that?” You look at her hopeful she’ll want to continue whatever the two of you started.

“I do, I want that.” She smiles back at you, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay.” You can’t help but smile big back at her.

“Okay.” She just repeats your words.

“I should be going.” You repeat your words from earlier, you knew you had to go, you just didn’t want to.

Jessie moves her hand from your forearm up to your face to grab your chin. You think for a second she’s going to kiss you again but then she’s pushing your head away from her and to the side. She moves in and places her lips on your cheek. 

“Once your nose is healed you can have more on the lips.”  She says teasingly. The gentle gesture has you blushing more than the kisses to your lips did. She releases your face and you see her eyes look at your cheeks, the blush growing. You turn quickly facing the door, grabbing the handle and stepping out. 

“Goodnight Jessie.” 

[clamenstell]

Meant for two

one drop turns two, then three as little pitter patter of water droplets start to fall onto the earth as a hand raised out to feel the falling droplets.

"oh. rain."

gojo satoru was currently near the gates of jujutsu tech as he just returned from a mission assigned by his teacher, finishing it begrudgingly. he didn't realize the sky had turned dark as the gloomy clouds hid the bright blue skies.

it's okay, he had his infinity, the rain can't touch him and he won't get wet from it. very convenient if you ask him, though he has to focus and manually activate it, it's definitely a good use for small things like this. never needing an umbrella or having to rush to a nearby shelter, especially sharing an umbrella and getting your shoulder wet from the small space from the temporary shelter.

yeah, his infinity is definitely convenient.

"oh, satoru."

your voice snapped him out of his thought and he shifted his gaze to see you approaching him, grocery bags in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

"you arrived earlier than i thought. i was planning on meeting you by the gates after i dropped off some things since it's raining, but i guess you beat me to it huh." you laughed.

"missed me that much sweetheart?~" the corner of his lips quirked up as he gave you a teasing tone, you rolled your eyes.

"it's raining dummy, didn't want you to get soaked by the rain and get a cold obviously," you huffed. "seems like you got it covered though."

"of course, i'm the greatest after all~" he chuckled.

"of course, how could that slip my mind, even rain can't touch the great gojo satoru," you teased before sighing. "guess you don't need the umbrella then, how convenient. wish i don't have to worry about needing an umbrella when it rains. looks like we don't need to share the umbrella then," you chuckled but that line caused the cerulean-eyed teen to freeze. "let's go, satoru."

you turned to walk back to the dorms, expecting your companion to follow but suddenly he shoved to your side, ducking his head under the umbrella with you.

"w-what the?! satoru, what are you doing?" you stared at him wide-eyed as he stucked his tongue out.

"whoops, looks like my infinity stopped working, seems we gotta share the umbrella now sweetheart~" he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring you in closer, "don't want me getting soaked under the rain right?" you rolled your eyes.

"what happened to being so great that even the rain can't touch you?" you teased but he only chuckled and squeezed your shoulder.

"don't worry your pretty little head about it~" he hummed, taking a look at the bags in your hands. "what'chu buy anyways? any snacks for me?~" his hand reached for one to take a peak but you pull it away before he could.

"absolutely not, these are for suguru and shoko."

"aww what," he pouted, sticking his tongue as he makes a thumbs down at you, "booo.."

"oh? guess you don't want these pastries then? i'll give 'em to suguru and shoko too then," you raised the bags to reveal a pastry box stamped with the logo of a local bakery you both frequent to that went unnoticed by satoru and shrugged.

"wha-?! hey!" you snickered, "come one sweets, i've been gone all day working hard and this is the payment i get? cruel," he raised a hand to clutch his chest as he turned his head dramatically.

"i'm just joking satoru, of course these are for you. you did good today," you smiled softly at him as he turned his head back to you to basked in your praise, his arm still around your shoulder tightened a bit.

"let's go then! can't let these pastries lose their freshness now!" grabbing the bags to carry them for you, he dragged the both of you in a hurry to the student living quarters.

"i've just bought them, no need to rush," you giggled.

who needs infinity for small inconveniences like rain when he gets to be so close to you under an umbrella, sharing laughs and spending more time with you. he doesn't even mind that his shoulder is getting wet as long as you were warm and dry, under the temporary shelter with him, touching shoulders.

umbrellas were meant for two anyways.

[writingforstraykids]

"One of us is going to end up with a broken heart" -> them saying no to adopting/fostering a cat or kitten, so probably Min, you can make it a runt of the litter if you want to sprinkle some angst, but only sprinkle! I can't handle being drowned 😭 Honestly this feels self indulgent now, but we ain't gonna dump now, no sir-e

Just a fluffy time with the "no we can't keep it" dad trope (dad? I mean if you wanna, I won't say no 🙈) then them being the reason its kept, always a sucker for this ugh, gen.neutral would be fine, see no reason for specification on this, go ham, cause I kinda did lol whoops

Aww I love this thought so much, I finished it immediately after you sent it in🤭 I do hope you like it💕

Pairing: Minho x gn!reader

Warnings/tags: pure fluff

Word Count: 767

“Minho, no,” you shake your head firmly as you realize where your husband is so eagerly taking you this cold December morning. 

“You don’t even know what I-” he starts protesting but gets cut off quickly by you.

“Min. We’re not adopting another cat!” you groan softly. 

Minho parks the car in front of the animal shelter and turns to you with a big pout and the best puppy eyes he can muster. “But-”

“Minho Lee, I said no,” you shake your head, thinking of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, who had just gotten familiar with the newest addition, Cookie, a small brownish-grey goofball who’s been keeping you busy this past month. 

Minho sighs softly and looks at you, utterly heartbroken. “Baby, listen, we agreed ‘no kids yet,’ but…I have to share my love somehow.”

Your jaw drops, and you try to stifle a laugh. “Minnie, you have four kids already, five if you count Felix as your fifth kitty.” That makes him laugh as well. “You can practice being a dad of five, do we really need a sixth kid?”

-

“Look at him, isn’t he sweet?” Minho asks, voice growing all gentle and sweet like you know him around cats. In the small basket in front of you, there’s a little black kitten staring at you with big brown eyes. Your husband turns toward you in search of agreement, and suddenly, you’re faced with two brown-eyed kittens staring into your soul. 

“He is,” you nod, eyeing him suspiciously as he pets his head softly.

Minho looks back at the kitten and makes a soft sound, his smile widening as he kneels down, and the kitten makes a few wobbly steps towards him. Minho picks him up after checking with the employee and rubs his forehead against the kitten’s head. “He looks like Channie, doesn’t he? All in black and those sad eyes.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes at him fondly. “Ah, that’s why; you miss your hyung so much you want to adopt a kitten looking like him.”

Minho shoots you a playful glare and shakes his head. “Obviously not.”

“Minnie, come on,” you sigh softly and shake your head. “It’s too much.”

“Cookie needs a little brother, that’ll make him responsible,” he says so seriously it makes you laugh. 

“Min.”

“Seriously, Y/nnie,” he sighs and makes eye contact with the kitten. “Always the same with them. One of us is going to end up with a broken heart at this rate,” he tells him. 

“Minho, seriously,” you laugh and smack his head playfully.

“You’re such a meanie,” he pouts. 

“And you’re forbidden to take another step into an animal shelter in the next five years at least,” you shoot back, and his head spins toward you. 

“Five years?! Honey, are you crazy?” he gasps and sets the kitten back down. “I’m so sorry, Channie, I would’ve taken you in any day. I would’ve made sure you had a cozy spot, delicious food and you’d be our new maknae kitten.”

Oh, for fucks sake.

-

“Cookie, look, you got a little brother,” Minho announces cheerfully and sits down, keeping your sixth kid in his lap. He makes a happy sound and wiggles from side to side as Cookie nuzzles his face against the newcomer. “Soonie, Doongie, Dori, come here,” he calls out for the rest and holds up the black kitten above his head. “Say hi to your baby brother, Channie.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll kick your ass if you tell him the reason for it,” you snort.

“Minho,” you crack up. “You can’t seriously call him that.”

“Why not? He’ll love it,” he grins smugly.

“He’ll never know,” he shrugs and sets down Channie on the floor. “Never,” he announces and looks at you firmly.

“Come on, I said yes, let me at least choose another name,” you laugh and sit down next to him. “I don’t want to wake up to you calling out for beloved hyung in the morning.”

“Fine~,” he sighs and side-eyes you with a light huff. 

“Oh! I know something, we’ll call you Lixie,” you say proudly after a moment.

“And that’s supposed to be better?” he asks sarcastically, ruffling your hair. “I can’t name two of my kitties the same.”

“You call him Yongbokie either way. Shut up,” you giggle, and he pokes your side.

“You shut up,” he giggles and presses his lips firmly against yours. “I love you so much, baby,” he beams at you.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

“Yeah, yeah, anything to satisfy my beloved cat dad,” you snort and ruffle his hair, giggling softly. Gosh, you love this idiot.

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @galaxycatdrawz @aaasia111 @channieaddict @kthstrawberryshortcake

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ only, explicit smut)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dream/nightmare sequences, mentions of spouse death and hypothetical child death (in the dream sequence), angst, references to smut, m/m/m/f dynamics

Summary: Each Marcus deals with conflicting emotions after spending the night together.

A/N: WHOOPS, who let all the angst in here???? Sorry about that!

Masterlist | Chapter 6 | Next chapter>>

(Moreno)

Marcus Moreno is about to die. Alien tentacles ooze toward him out of a strange crack in the world itself, moving with terrifying speed. He can choose to draw his swords and ready himself, or to shove the people beside him away and out of danger, but not both. He’s somehow both controlling his body and observing the scene from the outside as he turns to see a pretty young woman with fierce eyes, a man dressed in Roman armor, and the FBI Agent he admires so much that it hurts. They all look at him with fear in their eyes as he lets out a strangled yell and throws them out of harm’s way with all of his strength. They land on the pavement several feet away, but it’s not far enough. The tentacles engulf them, and Marcus cries out in anguish as he draws his swords, slashing and hacking frantically, spilling thick, black blood everywhere as he tries to reach his loved ones.

He throws off the last of the writhing black mess, but somehow, the three people he had thought had been there before have changed. Now, only two bodies lie broken and bloodied on the pavement–one much smaller than the other. When he sees the eyes of his late wife staring unseeingly up at the sky, he drops to his knees with a guttural scream of grief and pain. He can’t bring himself to look at the second body, knowing exactly what he’ll see when he does. 

No, he whispers as tears fall down his cheeks. No, no, no, no–

He shoots up in bed, gasping for air. He’s soaked in sweat and shaking uncontrollably, heart still pounding in his chest from the remnants of the dream. It’s only when something shifts behind him, a broad, bare chest turning and facing the other direction does he remember he’s not alone. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his movements hadn’t woken anyone else. Carefully, he scoots down the bed, avoiding several pairs of legs, and retrieves his phone from the pocket of his discarded pants before retreating to the living room. 

Hey, he taps out a message. How’s college life?

He stands in the middle of the room, staring down at the bright screen and feeling rather awkward in his nudity, not really expecting a response at this time of night but wishing with every atom in his body for one anyway. 

He’s about to give up and try to force himself back to sleep when three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen.

M: Who’s asking, leader of the Heroics or my papá?

Marcus snorts softly.

Do I receive a different response depending on my answer?

M: 1. I am studying at the library, or 2. It’s dollar beer night at Lotus.

He smiles. 

I choose option 1, obviously.

M: The real question is what are YOU doing up so late? 

Couldn’t sleep. Just felt the need to check in on you. Everything okay?

M: Everything’s fine. Are YOU okay? You haven’t sent me Worried Dad texts in the middle of the night in a while.

Marcus begins tapping out a response, deletes it, starts again, and deletes that too. He sighs, glancing warily back at the bedroom. I’m afraid to let anyone else into my life, he wants to tell her. You’re my only success story, and I worry every day that I’m going to lose you, too. 

It’s too much to lay on his twenty-one year-old daughter, so he turns it into a joke instead.

I’m short on my Dad quota and wanted to make sure the Dad Boss doesn’t fire me.

M: You’re weird.

Ever heard the saying ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?’

The message is left unread for several minutes, and he imagines that her friends are all goading her to get off her phone and rejoin the fun. Good. He does all the worrying for both of them, so that she can remain carefree. He smiles softly and taps out one last text.

Have a good night, bug. Call me sometime. xo 

He locks his phone and holds it at his side, but remains standing in the same place, mulling over his thoughts. 

He hadn’t been exaggerating earlier when he said it had been a long time since he’d had… well, anyone really. The last time he’d had sex was during a disastrous no-strings-attached hookup after one of his coworkers convinced him to download some app and set up a profile. That was… shit, it had to be almost two years ago now. He hadn’t realized it had been quite that long. 

The last time he had a relationship was more of a trick question. He dated a few people on and off, once Missy had been able to mostly fend for herself at home, but they never lasted long or ever became serious. None of them had even met his daughter. The real answer to ‘when was your last relationship’ was ‘not since his wife died.’

It wasn’t just that no one could compare to her. It was that he couldn’t allow them the opportunity to even try. The closer people are to him, the more danger he puts them in. 

But ever since a certain FBI Agent waltzed into his office and asked so earnestly for his help, he found himself wanting to let someone in for the first time in a very long while. 

And now, to his great surprise and bewilderment, he has not just one more person he cares about, but three. Can he let himself get closer again? Can he afford to?

He looks at the book left open on the coffee table. At first he thinks there must be something wrong with his eyes, because the words all look like gibberish, but then he realizes the book is in Latin. Oh. Somehow he had forgotten that Marcus Acacius did not actually belong here. He can’t tell if the thought troubles him or relieves him–knowing that one less person will be in danger because of him.

The Heroic debates sleeping on the couch for a few moments, but the remnants of the dream still trickle unpleasantly through his bloodstream, and he doesn’t want to be alone. Carefully, he pads back into the bedroom and crawls back into the still-empty space that he had vacated. 

He lies awake for a long time, listening to the sound of breathing.

(Pike)

Marcus stirs, cracking open his eyes to see the first rays of daylight reflecting on the wall opposite your bedroom window. He rolls onto his back, being careful not to wake you as he turns over. Moreno is snoring softly beside him, looking peaceful. This is the only time he hasn’t seen worry lines etched on the man’s forehead, and he wonders about the burden of one man trying to protect the entire world. 

The Roman is already awake, piercing brown eyes meeting his with a mischievous twinkle. Marcus nods to him in greeting and gives him a small, crooked smile. The other man reaches over the Hero to run the tip of his index finger down the length of Marcus’s arm, and he shivers softly. 

“Early riser,” he comments in a whisper. 

“I have always risen with the sun.”

“Makes both of us,” Marcus grins. 

“And decidedly not our hostess.”

They both laugh quietly, not wanting to wake the other occupants of the bed. 

“Coffee?” he asks the Roman. 

“I would love some.”

Marcus helps himself to your kitchen, knowing exactly where you keep your coffee grounds and filters. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so at home in someone else’s space; he’s spent more time here over the past several weeks than he’s spent at his own apartment, and from the beginning he had secretly preened over the excuse to get to know you better.

At first, your temporary houseguest had been a slightly befuddling distraction–his distinctive presence ensured that he looked completely out of place in every environment, and his constant refrain of “Quid est, quid est, quid est” was equal parts endearing and frustrating. Marcus didn’t often feel like a small man, but he couldn’t deny that the way the General’s broad shoulders seemed to fill every room had him feeling some kind of way about it. 

It’s a fascination, he had told himself so many times. A temporary infatuation that’s distracting you from the woman of your dreams. 

When the translators were introduced, and the Roman’s sharp wit and mischievous sense of humor could be understood for the first time, the pull became even stronger. It didn’t help that the man seemed to be a shameless flirt with everyone–himself, you, and when Moreno began spending the odd evening here, him too. 

Even so, the events of the previous night had been so far beyond his imagination that he can hardly make sense of it. Marcus has always been a serial monogamist, hopping from one way-too-serious relationship to another and hoping against all odds that the next one wouldn’t end in disaster. He’s never been able to do anything that could remotely be considered casual.

He had no concept of what last night had meant. 

He pours the coffee into two mugs–dumping a fair amount of cream and sugar in one, and far less in his own–and hands one to Acacius. 

“You are pensive this morning,” he remarks, his voice still carrying a light rasp from sleep.

“Just thinking.”

“You and the Hero both strike me as men who are inclined to think themselves into an early grave.”

Marcus snorts. “That might be true.” Might be. Everyone he’s ever known has called him an over-thinker. “You're a great tactician when it comes to war,” he challenges the man. “Surely you appreciate the benefits of analysis.”

“There is analyzing a situation, and then there is helpfully standing in place wondering what action you are going to take while the enemy completely surrounds you.”

Marcus pauses, coffee cup halfway to his lips, and really looks at the man beside him, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. He tries to imagine him in the armor he had been wearing that first night, bruised and bloodied, leading the armies of Rome with a fierce battle cry. “I don't often find myself surrounded by an army.”

“The enemy can be many things. There is a word for this, no?”

“A metaphor?”

“Mmm,” he grunts in assent. “When is an army not really an army?”

Marcus smiles to himself, setting the mug down on the counter and staring into the middle distance. “So, what do you think my enemy is?”

The General looks him up and down. “The things that you carry with you.”

His eyes snap to Acacius in shock and surprise. The man is discerning–alarmingly so, at times. Marcus’s breath catches in his throat when he responds thickly, “What is it that you think I’m carrying?”

“This is not for me to know,” the man remarks casually, raising one eyebrow. “Unless you are wanting to tell me something?”

“What are you two chattering about?” your soft voice cuts through their conversation. Marcus turns to see you padding toward them wearing only a shirt and looking satisfyingly mussed. 

“A soldier that carries the weight of his past failure into the next battle will surely lose,” the General says cryptically. 

You stare at the two of them blankly. “Yeah, I’m gonna need some coffee if you’re going to be talking like that.” You look at Marcus shyly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” 

Marcus doesn’t know what to do. Does he kiss you? Is that rude? He wants to reach for you, to take you into his arms, but the two other men have him at a loss–how does one act after group sex? He has no blueprint for this situation.

“How lucky we are to have such a beautiful woman in front of us, still looking so well-fucked from our attentions last night.” The other man croons, moving closer to Marcus and nosing the shell of his ear. 

Feeling emboldened by the other man’s candor, he extends his arm to you, and you immediately fill the space perfectly, your head resting against his bare chest. Marcus presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With the General at his back, he feels completely surrounded by warmth–and wonders, despite himself, if he might be lucky enough to hold onto this feeling. The only thing better would be…

“Our other Marcus still asleep?” he jokes.

“The Hero was awake for some time in the night,” Acacius comments. 

Ah. That explains it. “We’ll let him sleep, then.”

“Or,” you say with a sultry smile, “or we could all three of us go back and… wake him up.”

(Acacius)

Marcus Acacius likes this more than anything else. More than any of the hedonistic acts that had come before, more than the thrill of building sexual tension between partners, is this: 

The utter decadence of sweaty, sated bodies, limbs tangled together… delicious. 

The hero lies boneless, half-sprawled over him. A man who has been pushed into a position of strength all his life, he finally appears free of all those expectations here. The General has always been able to read people, but it hardly took any effort at all to see that Marcus Moreno desperately craved the ability to let go. His breath shudders slightly on the exhale, and the other man curled around him makes a soft noise of inquiry.

“Feel okay?”

“Mmhmm,” the hero mumbles, not opening his eyes, and Acacius smiles.

The Agent, on the other hand, is much like himself, in that he seems to be just as comfortable in a position of power as he is in submission. Marcus hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off the man as he guided the hero through his first time receiving–gentle, but firm, one hand wrapped around the man’s cock and the other grasping his shoulder for leverage, his fingers always reaching possessively for his neck. Marcus Pike does not simply take a lover, the General concluded, he desires to own them.

It was that obvious possessiveness that had kept Marcus from insisting the Agent share with the others the night previous, allowing him to be the sole proprietor of your pleasure–but the way the man had shuddered at the sight of his beloved with his own thick cock down your throat gave him less qualms about the matter today.

And if that resulted in Marcus delighting in the hot, wet clutch of your cunt for himself, that was simply a fringe benefit, was it not? Oh, you were a sweet one, and it was easy to see why Pike was completely enraptured. You whimpered so beautifully when he broke you open for the first time, squirming around his cock with a little wrinkle of discomfort on your forehead. When the Agent reached down to palm your cheek and soothe you through it, you greedily sucked his thumb into your mouth and bit down gently, eliciting a soft groan from the man. 

Marcus eventually flipped you on your stomach to take you fast and hard, mirroring the intensity of the two men beside you. You were delirious, drunk on your own pleasure, but still had the presence of mind to reach out and stroke the cheek of the Hero, who was moaning into the pillow next to you. You smiled softly, seeing the other man’s overwhelmed expression, and moved yourself closer to him. The two of you were still tangled together when you reached the point of ecstasy.

You’re curled into Marcus’s chest now, your soft breaths disturbing the smattering of hair and your warm body leaving his own glistening with sweat. You beside him, the Hero sprawled bonelessly on top of him, and the Agent with his arm draped over top, his fingers brushing against the top of his pubic bone–and Marcus Acacius feels utterly at peace. 

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Buttercream Frosting - Gaz x Reader Bakery AU

Content Warnings - Mention of masterbation and sex, yearning, sexualization, domestic fluff.

Previous Part Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

A/N - Whoops, I put this off. Anyway, I'm taking up a small writing challenge in April and have 6 chapters (not including this one) planned.

Gaz can’t remember a time, at least in the last few years, that he’s ever been this excited to go over to someone’s place. Evening could not come fast enough despite the fact his small leaves always seemed to speed by. Gaz grunts as he lets the weights drop to the ground and grabs his water bottle, taking a big drink of it. It feels like his body was producing enough heat for it to roll off him in waves, sweat across his forehead and biceps. He glances at his watch again and has to stop himself from groaning. Gaz puts the weights away and wipes down the equipment he had used all while thinking about tonight. You had invited him over. For taste testing.

He wasn’t sure if that's your way of suggesting something or if you really want him to try a recipe. Gaz washes the sweat on his face away with the sinks in the gym locker room as he debates this in his head. He had listened to you get fucked and left high and dry by whoever it was who failed to use his damn dick right. He had jacked off to it on top of listening to it. And you weren’t really moaning. He groans and looks at himself in the mirror as he feels blood rush south fast. Was he a teen boy again? Sure fucking feels like it because any thought linked to you turns into something lewd.

His mind drifts to the bakery and cafe, to the idea of stopping by there if not to just get a look at those pants that seems determined to become your second skin. He decides not to. He’ll be seeing you later, in your own flat in whatever clothes you wear outside of work.

He knocks on the door an hour after he heard you arrive home. Enough time to shower and change he figured. He didn’t need to be tortured by your work uniform. He fears his self restraint might snap in half like a twig if you were still wearing it. You open the door and Gaz feels himself relax a little. Sweatpants and a baggy shirt. He could handle this. “Ready to taste my cupcakes?” You ask. Fuck.

For apparently your first time using this recipe, the cupcakes weren’t awful. Although that might just be his massive sweet tooth talking. You watched him with your bottom lip between your teeth, you’re trying to kill him, he concludes as he licks off stray frosting from his fingers. “How was it?” You ask eagerly and Gaz has to think about it for a second. “And don’t hold back.” You say firmly.

“The frosting could do with some more sugar and the cupcake itself was a little dry.” He says after thinking about it for a moment. You scrunch your nose, clearly in thought as you went through the steps in your head to see where you could have gone wrong to make the cupcake a little dry. You wander over to the piece of paper that was the recipe, you cross out a few things and add new measurements.

You turn to him with a grin, “Wanna help me make this batch?” You let out a laugh at how quickly he nods his head. He decides he would like to hear that laugh all the time. He helps with the measurements and lets you handle everything else, at your insistence of course. You hand him one of two frosting covered spoons and he’d have to be blind to realize you were staring as he licked the frosting off, yours untouched. Gaz stands there with you, looking like a deer in headlights before he moves in a little closer. He sets the now licked clean spoon to the side and tilts your head up with two fingers under your chin. You visibly swallow as he leans in, he can still taste the buttercream frosting on his tongue.

Then the timer goes off for the cupcakes in the oven. You practically jump away, “Better get them before they burn.” You sputter out as you rush to the oven and slip on the mitts set to the side. The batch of cupcakes turn out perfect.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

HOW DARE YOU STAB ME IN THE GUT THE IDEA OF VAGGIE BEING MORTAL!

SO RUDE!

But at the same time just... thinking about vaggie wanting to grow old with charlie. that sort of show of *trust*, of being vulnerable with charlie in a way no one's been with her before.

and it probably takes some more conversations, but... I want to hope that charlie eventually understands just what vaggie means when she wants to spend the rest of her days with charlie. and how much meaning that carries when those days are *finite*...

MY POOR HEART HOW DARE YOU

well this almost turned into a fic now didn't it? hm. whoops

(had Reinaeiry's song "Left Behind" on repeat for this ^w^;)

.... a new sinner comes to the hotel, sometime After.

they came in past the giant golden Dazzle statue out front, creep through the foyer, tense and ready for a trap, spot Sir Pentious's portrait- and the matching one, hanging up next to it

(fresh flowers sitting in vases under them both)

it's a picture of a woman. Steel grey skin, faded angel wings, a missing eye- deep laugh lines at the corners of the eye she has left

she's leaning back in a chair, sitting casually in her hotel manager uniform, her thin smile a little crooked and a little sharp- definitely someone used to having problems and finding solutions. Not someone to mess with. The walking stick in one hand is held more like a weapon

there's a wedding band on her finger, on full display she reaches up to cover the hand resting on her shoulder

(rest of that person out of sight) (hand clawed and pale as porcelain, cuff of a red suit bleeding out of frame)

and it's odd to see someone else sharing a memorial picture-

(more than one person had died a little, that day)

-but more odd than that is the way looking at the picture makes the sinner frown.

they're still frowning when the hotel founder wanders over

(done arranging for a new room) (doing double duty as hotel manager) (laughed it off earlier- hasn't yet found the time to put up a job openings ad) (a bad liar)

and she's a lanky, tall demon in a red suit, looking more like a living doll than a princess of hell, proper demon image only hinted at with the claws and the fangs

she shows off the fangs when she smiles at the portrait of the woman- then, belatedly, at the new hotel guest

(still their hotel) (still their new guest) (even After...)

she asks,

"Like them?" and smiles a little wider (wider than a human could) (a little forced now) "They're, pretty cool pictures, huh?"

the new guest hums noncommittally. Still frowning

a laugh from the demon standing next to them, clasping her hands, spinning ring on one finger-

"I guess it's harder to know how good a picture it is, if you've never met the person in it." a hard swallow. "She would've.... really liked to have be here. To meet you."

"Not sure I'd want to meet her," a quip, thoughtless, not looking over. "Kinda a scary lady."

the demon's stricken look "-does she look scary?"

a casual shrug. "Just a feeling. Seems like she meant business."

"She did..." fangs biting into lips, smile gone, shoulders slumping, the demon caving inwards. "....but not like that. She, she was scary for people she loved- and kind. And thoughtful and-"

"What about him?" pointing at Sir Pentious in full battle gear, egg boyz everywhere.

the demon's very weak attempt at a smile. "Oh, you'll see him around eventually. He comes down to visit when he can, and likes calling a lot in between."

eyebrows lifting. Realizing. "He's the one who made it to heaven?"

"He is. He-"

"But not her?"

"...."

tall frame hunching, horns out now, dark marks bleeding down pale cheeks like burnt tears. A tail lashing silently behind her.

the demon breathes carefully. Gingerly.

"She... wasn't here to be saved. Not like- not like that."

"Huh."

a dubious, suspicious noise- the hotel is still a new idea even after all these years- a brand new addition to the fabric of creation with a lot of trust issues still to iron out.

"So what happened?" the sinner prods, watching carefully out of the corner of one eye. "Why's her picture up there with his?"

that gets a smile again, strangely.

a tearful one and a thickness in the demon's voice, but still a smile as she steps forward, reaching up to the portrait frame- touching it, lightly, with a pale, clawed hand that matches the one resting on the painted woman's shoulder.

"...they both gave their lives to their friends."

the demon whispers, still smiling.

"They made their home here, in the hotel, with us, and... and they'll always still be here. They'll never. Really leave-"

the words cut off and the sinner shuffles awkwardly in the silence

staring up at the portrait together, one frowning sinner-

-one hell princess slowly leaning against the woman's gilded frame, forehead butting it desperately, clearly trying hard not to cry in front of the first new guest

(that she's had to greet on her own)

finally the sinner speaks up (uncomfortable with pity) (a dangerous, weak thing to feel in hell) scowling hard at the woman's portrait, demanding-

"Where's her spear?"

the demon turns, wet faced, surprised. "Oh- she didn't want..." Blinks. "Her. Spear?"

"The cane thing looks stupid." crossed arms, a judgmental eye. head tilted to the left like bird, like the right eye was better at looking at things- "It's just a stick. How's she supposed to deal with stuff with just a flimsy piece of crap like that? The thing doesn't even have a blade."

"It had one." murmurs the demon, still shocked. Slowly straightening. "It had, hidden inside, there was a blade- Niffty made it for-"

the demon stops. Frowns.

"But. You didn't know her. The spear... How did you know about the-"

another shrug. "Just vibes."

"Vibes-?"

"She looks like a spear kinda girl."

a flex of the sinner's empty hand, gripping empty air, glaring up at the cane in the woman's hand-

"Just seems right, you know? Better than the stupid twig stick."

the demon eyes flicking down to watch, staring. "...she called her cane that, too."

a faint comment drifting up like the ghost of years gone by.

snorting, the sinner turns away. "I bet." eyes the rest of the hotel with hands on hips, critical and on edge with that stare still burning between tense shoulder blades. "So where's my turf in this place? I'm guessing I don't have to fight for it first, right?"

"Room 12, second floor." many times rehearsed words finally popping out without thought. "Key's on the front desk. I'll show you up-"

"Don't bother." sinner already striding off, clearly glad to get away. "I won't kill anyone on the way there, don't worry."

"I wasn't.... that's not why I..."

there's something. Something about that brisk, focused way of walking. Something in the set of those shoulders-

(like a military march) (like the shoulders are braced for wings that aren't there)

(like the sinner should be carrying a spear-)

Charlie lurches forward.

"-Vaggie?"

heart in her throat, fist in her chest, frozen as the sinner pauses at the foot of the main stairs and looks back.

something in that strange face softens. (pity?) (something else...?)

"... not my name, sweetie."

the sinner's smile is crooked. unscarred eyes understanding, and sad.

"She your wife?"

no past tense. just the gaping whole in Charlie- ripped open fresh, thundering and bleeding under her shirt as she stares and stares and tries to see- "Yes." seeing ghosts where there aren't any. "We. For, for so many wonderful years..."

the crooked smile soft as well as sad now, as the sinner thumbs the room key and takes a moment, looking back up at the portrait above Charlie.

"Good for her."

a touch bitter- a sigh, sharp. Pained.

"And, you. Some of us.. never even find who we were looking for, before we lose our chance at having a life with them."

turning and gone in the next second, before anything else slips out. The glint in suddenly exhausted eyes-

Charlie, standing under Vaggie's portrait, slowly starting to shake.

Not this-

"-no."

Slowly backing up against the wall. Claws reaching out, sinking in, ruining wallpaper as the world tilts and turns and Charlie braces her weak knees against the fall.

"-it's not. It's not."

It can't be. The side of the bed that wasn't Charlie's even when she woke up curled up in it- that was real. The dusty spear propped in a corner of their room that Charlie hadn't put there and didn't want there and couldn't bring herself to move- THAT was real.

The portrait behind her, painted when the limp and her balance first started getting bad, when Vaggie still called her cane a 'stupid twig stick' but wouldn't pretend she didn't need it, wouldn't swap it for her spear when Charlie had offered, carried proudly anyway and smirked about smacking ankles when people annoyed her... mostly just thumbed it thoughtfully, when she thought Charlie wasn't looking, smiling that crooked wondering smile- THAT had been- that was-

Charlie could turn around right now and see all of it memorialized behind her (always behind her now) (always in the past, being left further behind).

Charlie had NOT seen, anything else. Because nothing else could BE real.

nothing as real as long limbs folding in, crumping under that damn framed picture, ignoring Husk's worried look from the bar. Husk, glancing up after the new guest, also frowning now-

Charlie and the old habit of hugging herself tightly back together, something not even a lifetime with Vaggie had ever fully broke her out of.

(only ONE lifetime) (not hers)

(her stupid deal hadn't worked in the end) (promise broken for nothing) (Vaggie had died)

(she can't be-)

She can't do this again.

.....

exact words are a bitch sometimes

"Don't let me die without her." (never said- and make sure she doesn't have to live and die alone either, without me)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

if it’s not too much to ask (🥺) could you do a reader who’s best friends with Colin and he teases her about her crush on Jamie and tries to get them together? If not, NO WORRIES. Your stuff is so 🥰

(this ended up being a lot longer than I intended...whoops!)

You and Colin grew up together. You were two peas in a pod, the thickest of thieves. You knew everything about each other. You were the first person he told when he realized he was gay. He was the first person you told after you had your first kiss. You're each other's platonic soulmates.

As such, you're always trying to help each other in regards to your dating lives. When he told you about Michael, you were excited to see your best friend finally found his person. Michael was amazing and you two clicked instantly, to Colin's relief.

Your love life? Weeeell...

Colin and Michael were expecting you since twenty minutes prior, you texted them: THIS DATE SUCKS. IM COMING OVER.

So you're now sitting on Colin's couch in between the couple.

"So what happened this time?" Colin asks.

"All he talked about was football, specifically West Ham," that got Colin groaning, "He also looked my Instagram up and saw the pictures of you and I. Asked if we dated in the past, if you'd be able to get him tickets to the next Richmond versus West Ham game."

"You know you can archive the pictures of us so people-"

"No. I'd never do that to you, Col. It's like I'm ashamed of you and I'm not."

Colin gives a small smile and nod of appreciation, "Thanks, babe."

"Maybe you can set her up with one of your teammates," Michael suggests.

A lightbulb went off in Colin's head and you immediately said, "Don't."

"He's available."

"It'll be weird!"

"No, it won't!"

"Isn't he a dickhead?"

"Not as much anymore!"

Michael waved in front of you and Colin, "What's going on?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands, "Kill me."

Colin snickers, "Y/N's celebrity crush before I got into the league was Jamie Tartt. When she found out he was being lent to Richmond, she freaked out. Made a complete fool of herself by tripping in front of him and getting a bloody nose."

"Ooohh. That's pretty bad." Michael says, wincing.

"It was so mortifying!" you cry out, "There's no way he'd want to date me after that disaster!"

"He might not even remember it," Colin says reassuringly.

"I don't want to risk it," you turn to Michael, "Michael, tell him it's a bad idea."

Michael looks to his boyfriend, "Do you vouch for Jamie?"

Colin nods, "I do, actually. He's completely turned his act around. He can still be a prick sometimes, but it's not as bad as it was when he first joined the team."

Michael focuses back on you, "You should go for it."

You immediately stand up, "Nope. I'm not making myself out to be a fool again. No thanks! I'm out!"

_____________________

"Hey, Jamie," Colin rushes up to Jamie as he exits his car.

Closing the door behind him, Jamie responds, "Yeah, mate?"

"You're not seeing anyone right?"

"No," Jamie replies with furrowed brows, look of confusion.

"My best friend, Y/N, she's beautiful, funny, and smart and think you and her would be a great match." Colin holds out his phone, showing Jamie a really great candid picture of you that he took when you two went to dinner months ago.

Jamie nods at the picture. You were, indeed, very beautiful. The way the sun hit your skin made you look angelic, "She's...nice."

Colin rolls his eyes, "One date. That's all I ask."

"Why me though?" Jamie still looks a bit confused, "Why not Bumbercatch or Isaac?"

"I just think you and Y/N would fit really well. She's been having a rough time with dating so I figured you'd show her how she should be treated."

To be fair, Jamie was thinking about getting back into the dating scene. He finally got over Keeley, accepting that they'd just be better off as friends. You seemed like a decent person, from the few things Colin mentioned. Might as well, right?

"Fuck it. Sure."

Colin fist bumped the air, "Yes! You won't regret it. I'll make the plans. You just show up."

"Yeah, yeah, alright."

_______________

You show up to Ola's, a place you've been to before. As soon as you walk in, Colin and Michael are there.

"I need to preface this and say you can't be mad at me," Colin says.

You narrow your eyes at him, "What did you do?"

"It'll be fine. I promise. Michael and I will be on the other side of the restaurant if you need anything, but you won't, because it'll be great."

"But if it goes wrong, it was definitely all his doing," Michael says, pointing to Colin.

Colin grimaces, "Thanks, babe." He takes your hand and leads you towards the back corner where Jamie fucking Tartt was sitting.

You immediately give Colin a look and he pushes you towards him, murmuring, "It'll be fine!"

You slowly approach the table and Jamie looks up, giving you a polite smile as he pockets his phone.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," he offers his hand out.

"I know," you say as you shake his hand, "I'm so sorry Colin roped you into this. You really don't have to be here if you don't want to."

He shrugs, "It's fine. Been meanin' to get back into the dating game. Besides, if things don't really work out, we get free dinner and drinks out of it, yeah?"

Your brows shot up, "Colin's paying?"

Jamie nods, "He said he would."

You smirk and gesturing for a server. He smiles at you, "Would you like to start with drinks?"

You nod, "Yes, we'll have your most expensive bottle please."

It's now Jamie's brows that shoot up and he looks at you in surprise. When the server leaves to get the drinks, you lean in and said, "It's payback," you sigh as you sit down.

"So...you weren't too keen on going on a date with me then?" he asks awkwardly.

You suddenly look mortified, "No, no! That's not it at all it's-I-ugh!" you slump back in your chair. You let out a deep breath and sit up again, "Alright, so I believe two years ago, you and I actually met before and I made a complete fool out of myself because I tripped and ate the pavement. I busted my lip, there was lots of blood. Not a pretty sight or a cool thing to do in front of your celebrity crush."

Jamie smirks, "I'm your celebrity crush?"

You sit there in silence, mentally cursing yourself and Colin for making you go through this embarrassment again. You stand, "Right, okay, I've embarrassed myself enough. I'm leaving."

Jamie rushes to a stand, "No, please, don't. I'm only teasin' ya. It's nothin' bad, I promise. You're-You're very cute when you're flustered."

"Thanks," you murmur.

Luckily, the server came back with the most expensive bottle of wine. As soon as he poured your glass, you began downing it. Jamie watches you in amusement.

"Sorry, I just need some liquid courage to get through this."

Jamie leans forward, resting his arms on the table, "How about this, we just forget who I am for tonight. I'm not Jamie Tartt, the most amazing striker in the league. Just Jamie, a nervous lad on a date with a beautiful girl."

"You're nervous?" you ask in shock.

He shrugs, "It's been a while since I've gone on a proper date. Kinda forgot how to do this sort of stuff."

"Pft, I've gone on many dates and so far, you're the best one."

"Yeah? Tell me about 'em."

And that's how dinner goes. Over another glass and eventually over some food, you tell Jamie about your past dates. He tells you about some ridiculous things he's done with the guys when Coach Lasso was around. It was nice. It was nice knowing that Jamie wasn't here because he wanted to get close to Colin. He was there because he wanted to. You assumed he was interested in you by the way he flirted with you throughout the nice. So maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Once dinner was over, Colin came over with a pout, "Did you guys really have to order the most expensive items here?!"

"That's what you get for tricking me like that," you boop his nose and Michael snickers as he weaves his fingers through Colin's.

"But it went alright, yeah?" he looks at you and Jamie.

"I'd say so," Jame puts his hand on your lower back, "We're, uh, actually gonna head to a pub for more drinks."

"Oh! Well, uh, I think Michael and I will head on home then."

You don't want to give Colin the satisfaction just yet, so you say, "I'll text you later when I'm home."

"Sounds good," he says and pulls at Michael's hand, "Let's go, babe."

Looking over his shoulder, Michael gives you a wink and a thumbs up.

You snort and then turn to Jamie, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, love." and you two head out onto more drinks, more talking, and, hopefully, more dates after this.

[custardcrazy]

Hi! If ur still taking requests for Ted Logan atm can I ask for super fluffy headcanons or a oneshot where he has a s/o who’s his exact opposite personality-wise (like they’re grumpy, sarcastic, cynical, and just has that “I hate everyone but you” attitude with Ted). Basically the black cat to his golden retriever. Thank u if u decide to do this!!

we've a star

summary: opposites do attract. (gn!reader)

wordcount: 1.2k

A/N: whoops, I think I projected a little. thanks for requesting!!

It was comical, how different you and your adoring boyfriend were. 

It was a comparison that many pointed out, if they didn't know either of you too well. Ted was generally optimistic to the point of obliviousness. He was cheerful, goofy, and was physically incapable of being rude to anybody; it wasn't hard to see that he was an all-around good guy. And the complete and utter truth was that you weren't any of those things. Blunt, pessimistic, always having a hard edge to your words. 

To an outsider, it seemed impossible that people who were completely diametrically opposed in terms of personality and demeanor could be in a relationship in the first place. After all, there was that old saying: "opposites attract", but that usually didn't work outside of the movies. Differences brought conflict, and the more things people had in common, the better. 

However, any of your mutual close friends would know of your insane, ridiculous soft spot for your partner-in-crime. 

Maybe the fact that Ted was so sweet was why you couldn't bring yourself to be truly mean to him. Maybe it was why you were still so incredibly attracted to him. Usually people who weren't so bright just got on your nerves, and you didn't have much patience for morons. But Ted was a special case. Sure, you teased him, but it was never anything more than that. And somehow, every time he screwed up doing something it was just cute. Nothing else. 

At first, it caught you off-guard. And it still did, but you were kinda used to it by now. 

Speaking of now. 

Your legs were propped up in his lap, and he was hunched over somewhat, scribbling on a legal pad that he probably had taken from his dad's office before he and Bill moved in together. His bangs kind of obscured his eyes, and you observed admiringly how now and then he flipped his head back in order to get them out of the way. He always had nice hair. And yes, it was as soft as it looked. 

Bill wasn't in their apartment at the moment, as he had left maybe two hours ago to go hang out with some buddies. He'd asked you and Ted if you wanted to go -- you liked Bill, of course, but the same couldn't be said for that particular group of people. The thing you wanted to do the least right now was talk to people. Or socialize with people at all. 

Ted wasn't people. 

Reclining back on the sort of disheveled green couch, which was probably suffocating under all the pillows, you briefly turned your attention to the TV. But you only got a quick glimpse of whatever cheesy sitcom was on before Ted broke the companionable silence. 

"Babe?" He turned the legal pad towards you, and the page he was using was covered in the chicken scratch otherwise known as his handwriting. Oh, he was brainstorming lyrics again. "Does this phrase in particular come off as too … crazy?" Brow furrowed, he pointed to a sentence. "I know you know that this song is supposed to be most ludicrous, but I don't wanna cross a certain line." 

"Duh, you and Bill decided to call it Trapped In Clown Land," you pointed out.

"It's a metaphor, babe!" He announced cheerfully, unphased by your dry remark. 

Sitting up to squint at the page, you realized that with how fast he'd been writing, his usual scrawl had degraded even further. Normally, you could pick out a couple letters and move from there, but it was impossible this time. 

"Uh, Ted, I can't read that." You poked him in the side with your toe. "Translation, please." 

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry, babe." Lowering the pad, you noticed that even he had to focus a little to read what he'd written. 

"Shoes too big to fill / Out of fashion, but he's coming in for the kill," he recited slowly. "Something like that. Might reword it later, but I'm usually no good at rhyming stuff." The aura of self-pride radiating from him was palpable, and you reached out to ruffle his hair. He didn't protest, beaming a little. 

"I think it's fine." Shrugging, you leaned backwards again. "The big clown shoes reference is kinda direct, but just enough so it comes off as clever." For a guy who'd almost flunked English, Ted wasn't too bad at songwriting. Well, maybe you were a little biased, but you'd seen your fair share of awkward local bands to know what worked and what didn't. (Suddenly struck by a wave of intense secondhand embarrassment, you tried to suppress the memory of that one time the vocalist screwed up on stage.) 

But, thankfully, Ted intervened. "Your input is totally appreciated, babe." He leaned over, kissing you softly; it was over too soon, and he was right back to work. 

All of your efforts to dispel the cringe-worthy recollections were promptly diverted to trying to preserve your dignity and not melt into a puddle. Which was funny, because usually he was the one blushing and hiding his face. 

"Obviously," you managed to supply, and the TV suddenly looked very interesting. 

It was a little while longer before the legal pad got placed delicately (thrown) onto Ted's bed, and his arm was wound comfortably about your shoulders, his other hand in yours. Even before you started dating, something about his very, very good bear hugs was incredibly tempting. And now that you were, Ted's habit of being a cuddler had increased tenfold. 

You weren't one to break some nice peace and quiet, but this time you had a valid reason. Surprisingly. 

"Thanks for staying with me," you murmured into the crook of his neck, and even though you were used to being honest, you still felt your face heat up ever so slightly. "I know you and Bill always hang out, and you have a lot in common with those guys, too. You could've gone with them." 

" 'S really nothing," came his reply, sounding so easy and genuine. Warm. "I know that you didn't wanna go out today. Especially after you ranted about Jenna being most bothersome at work. It's totally understandable." 

You scoffed, unable to help your natural urges to make at least one venomous comment when prompted. Still, the mushy feelings in your heart didn't dissipate. "Like she always has. Isn't it a requirement for someone who works at Claire's to at least have the capacity to put up with whining tween girls?" 

"It should be," agreed Ted, his thumb running over your knuckles in a slow, gentle motion. "But don't pay too much mind to it, babe. You only gotta deal with her for, like, a couple hours." 

"It's still too long." You softened, tone growing more affectionate rather than irritated. "Not everyone has your patience." 

"But -- " 

He opened his mouth, probably to protest or deflect -- most likely at the same time, but this time you were the one who leaned up to kiss him. Unsurprisingly, it took him a second, but he quickly reciprocated, turning his body to face you more in order to make things more comfortable. 

Satisfyingly, when you parted, he was the flustered one, too distracted to continue his previous statement.