#and the whole thing with lucas ?? mans said ‘I see the way you look at jeremy’ ?????

[allthethoughtsandstuff]

my favorite thing about the sunshine court so far is how terribly unsubtle both jean and jeremy are

[missmarveledsblog]

Dustin's got a sister? ( Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)

summary : friday where DND nothing would stop that except the discovery of Dustin Hendersons older sister of course which leds to eddie wondering if he was wrong about the whole love at first sight thing being crap .

warnings : fluffy fast burn , mutual pinning , eddie being a simp for sure . picture doesn't represent the reader it was just a fic cover i made

Friday meant one thing to Eddie munson and that was Hellfire night . The club were beginning what he could only describe as his best campaign yet ,the loud roars and cheer or cries filled the basement of Dustin Henderson since the older boys graduated it became the new spot . What Eddie didn't know was that the boys were not the only ones in the house as the music upstairs caused them to halt and look to the owner of said basement in confusion .

 " It's just my sister , ignore her" he shrugged, wanting to continue but the sudden excitement of Lucas and Mike only made the older boy more curious .

" sister since when do you have a sister" Eddie almost challenged. " since my mom and dad you know and then she was born" Dustin's head tilted knowing he'd mentioned her before .

"and She's smoking hot" Lucas blurted out for Mike Wheeler to nod eagerly in agreement.

" How come we've never seen her around?" Gareth asked .

" because she went to a different school and usually she was with her asshole boyfriend but they broke up also she hangs out with Steve and robin, she also busy with college stuff " Dustin looked around the table seeing all their confused faces.

" Wait, I've never seen her when I hang out with them" Eddie looked at the boy .

" that's because she was with her boyfriend ,I literally just said that" he rolled his eyes.

" hey dusty bun you down there .... Oh shit sorry i forgot you had company" all their eyes landed on the woman standing there hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in shorts and tank top .

" hey Y/N" Lucas waved dreamingly . 

" Hey Sinclair," she smiled . 

" Hey wanna join," Mike asked.

" I can't tonight. I got a paper due on Monday, just came down to see if Dustin ate , but now the question expands , "Do you guys want pizza?" she smiled bright towards them, eddie could have sworn he had drool coming out of his mouth .

" yeah totally would eat pizza with you" Jeff chin resting in his hands . " Ok pepperoni would be a safe choice right" she looked, seeing them all nod . " ok i shall call when it's here " she ran up the stairs, cheeks heated suddenly aware of her attire and the eyes of the boys roaming her body . 

" How the hell is that your sister?" gareth asked, totally in awe .

 " Told you , smoking hot" Lucas beamed proudly.

" You asked her to join, why ?" Eddie almost whispered not ready for the answer in fair of his mind short circuiting even more that it was . " because she's the reason that we know how to play" Mike whispered back, sending the group of boys almost into a group of school girls fawning .

 " So you're telling me that the smoking hot goddess of a woman is a nerd like us" .

 " Can you all please stop calling my sister hot?" Dustin grimaced, suddenly regretting offering his basement for the Hellfire club . when the music changed and the familiar riffs flooded his ear drums . 

" Is that?... YOUR HOT SISTER LIKES METAL" Eddie almost roared across the table . 

" Is it too late to quit hellfire?" Dustin groaned.

It seemed the campaign was forgotten about after half an hour of questioning. Dustin Henderson was never more grateful for the pizza man's arrival but when she told them to come up he was almost trampled as his friends tried getting up the stairs .

" holy shit you guys must be hungry , no need to panic i got more than enough " she laughed seeing them pushing each other out of the way . 

" Totally starving" gareth smiled brightly.

" ok well plates are there and help yourself" she pointed to the counter .

" ladies first" Eddie smiled, arm outstretched . 

" Thank you" she moved, grabbing her plate and pizza before heading to the sofa. " I just stuck on halloween if you guys wanna join" she called eyes on the screen not seeing the pushing and shoving happening in the kitchen before eddie smiled victoriously beside her. " I love this movie" he winked . 

" I literally only started it so you all aren't missing much ... wait what about the campaign" her head tilted as they all sighed in content.

" Apparently due to hormones it's over" Dustin grumbled sitting on the other side of her . 

" Shit sorry that was my fault if I'm being too loud I can go to my room" she offered only for a chorus of no's and don't to fill the room . " you're fine, really we can do it another time apparently" Dustin smiled seeing the worry on her face. Before anyone else could say anything the doorbell went off making her run out to see who it was totally forgetting she invited steve and robin over.

" hey if you can find a place to sit" she led the two in.

" Hey guys," the three kids called.

"Hey Harrington man , nice to see you , how come you never mentioned the sweetheart of a sister Dustin had before" Eddie smiled yet glaring at his friend.

" because Dustin told me not to" he shrugged, heading off to the kitchen .

 "Do I embarrass you or something?" She turned to her brother.

" No just you were with that douche before and i didn't want him embarrassing me" he lied easily . 

" That's a good point," Robin nodded .

 " I hated that guy so much" Steve agreed eagerly as he handed Robin her plate as he sat beside Dustin .

 " Ok enough about my ex and let's watch the movie" she huffed, letting her damp nearly dry hair out of the towel . As soon as the lights went out all their attention went to the movie playing well mostly to the movie. Eddie's attention did try to stick to the screen but it often shifted to the girl sitting beside him. wondering how the hell he wasn't a puddle in the chair or if the beating of his heart was audible given how fast it was , was he sweating cause sure as hell felt like it . He watched the light of tv shine on her face, her relaxed state or... shit she grabbed his hand , why was he short circuiting over a girl grabbing his hand . 

" Sorry that part always make me jump" she whispered soft laugh spilling from her pillow plump lips , he could of sworn he saw a blush on her face but wasn't sure giving the limited light .

" if you need to grab it again feel free too" he whispered back smiling so wide showing off his dimples .

" thank you munson" now he was hoping more parts would make her jump . her hand in his throughout the movie it turned out his campaign wasn't the highlight of this Friday after all.

Once the movie ended Dustin hit the lights making them all groan at the sudden intrusive brightness . except the light snores filled out the room making them all turn to see the older henderson and eddie passed out cold her head on his shoulder and his hand holding hers .

 " Awhh that's so cute" Robin cooed, hiding her amusement.

" Damn it, I was gonna ask her out " Gareth growled, making everyone turn to the boy . " I said that out loud huh?" he stood rubbing the back of his neck .

 " Very loud," Steve snorted . "Come on i can drop you guys home" he stretched as the all looked at him wide eyed.

" Seriously "king"Steve Harrington is going to let us be seen with him" Jeff almost gasped out.

" yeah yeah dont cream your pants , come let them sleep" he ushered the gang of still shocked boys out the door. Only for Dustin to slam it shut behind them waking the two .

 "Where is everyone?" she asked, confused.

" yeah i remembered more people being here" Eddie rubbed his eyes . 

" Steve's dropping them home since you two were all cuddled up in sleepland" . 

"Shit i'll go clean up and head out before your mom comes home '' Eddie yawned and stretched ready to head back down to the basement . 

"Just stay, she's not home till Sunday," Dustin yelled, heading down to his own room . 

" If you want to, I mean we can watch another movie," she smiled nervously was he making her uncomfortable or was it something else.

" Yeah i could totally stay, I got some clothes in my van , let me grab them" he beamed with excitement.

" I'm going for a smoke so i'll come out with you" she grabbed her shoes and jacket pulling out the carton of cigarettes and lighter . 

" Lead the way princess" he opened the door letting her walk out first. The night's crisp air hitting them , she stood on the porch as he ran down grabbing the backpack out of his van given his original plan was to sleep at jeff's for the night so wayne could have a night's sleep in his room for once. When he looked back to see she was sitting on what he called the outdoor sofa to rile Dustin up, her eyes looking up at the sky lost in the stars above even then she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen . The slow exhale of smoke and she turned to smile at his approaching figure .

 " You cold, i can give you my jacket" he was already going to take it off pulling out his own cigarettes.

" no it's not too chilly tonight ,it actually a nice night" she mused moving so he could sit beside her.

"So Dustin mentioned you went to a different school. How come" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything about the woman sitting beside him . 

" You don't remember me huh?" she asked, confusing him completely.

" we actually went to the same school til i'd say middle school i changed schools because tommy hagan kinda made my life hell so my mom moved me to a different school since the principle wouldn't do anything about it , i was fat kid with curly ass hair , he called me sparky cause of this'' She shrugged the jacket showing the lightning bolt scar on her arm Making him remember completely who she was.

" shit yeah i remember, i also remember you punching him when he picked on other kids" he mused.

" another reason i had to move schools, the irony of letting myself being their victim and yet seeing ready when i seen them torment someone else " she snorted, tapping the ash of her cigarette . 

" Shit i would've never pictured you and Dustin to be siblings," he chuckled.

" Well back then my parents were still married and I wasn't always Henderson" She pointed out.

" Well that also checks out, still i've always thought that scar was metal , how you get it?" . 

"Wasn't struck by lightning sadly that would of been cooler no i burned it trying to make my own shield" she giggled. "

That's still metal in my books" he chuckled. 

" I guess your right I mean my mom didn't think so in the ER but hey it was good shield think it's still in the garage" throwing the cigarette away , sneaking a quick glance at the most adorable and probably hottest guy she ever met sitting beside her .

" you in college now or ? " he asked .

" yeah just an hour drive away, studying nursing what about you ? " she turned. Her eyes made him completely weak at the knee's .

" apprentice mechanic " she noticed how his smiled didn't quite reach his eyes when he said it .

" well if you ever get hurt on the job call me, I'll come nurse you back to heath " she nudging him playfully there it was a real smile on his pretty face.

" come on we head in or I'll be the nurse when you catch some flu or cold being out here " he stood holding his hand out to help her up .

" wanna was nightmare on elm Street" she asked.

" of course and if you get scared you can hold my hand " he winked as they walked into the house.

" I mean it is scary movie dare I say even terrifying you might get sick of me holding your hand" she teased heading to the other side of the room to grab the tape and a blanket .

" never would I do such a thing " he held his hand over his heart those damn dimples that made her heart skip a beat or the glint of the rings as he held his hand over his heart.

" could you put the movie in , I'll grab the snacks and some drinks " she scurried of the kitchen . Putting the movie on pause before he called to say he was putting some pyjamas on before it got started .

When he came in she had snacks pile on top of each other along with the soda . He could of sworn he caught her checking him out but brushing it off instantly.

" ready" she lifted the blanket up for him to join .

" born ready darling " he hit the lights as the second movie of the night started playing he suddenly felt the,warmth of her palm in his . " just incase I get to scared " she winked now he was one who was grateful for lack of lights cause he was sure he was beet red now.

" better safe the sorry " he whispered his voice almost cracking in the nervous manner of possibly the hottest most beautiful girl he'd met holding his hand ... his goddamned hand . the two say eyes locked on screen itching to look at the person at their side . She inched her way closer as the movie played when jumpscare came on she couldn't help bury her head In his chest . The smell of his cologne and cigarette filled her sense as she felt the vibrations of his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'll keep you safe princess " she could feel the almost cocky grin in his words feeling her little plan worked .

" thank you eddie my hero " she cooed looking up through her lashes making his gulp audibly leaning up and a peck to his lips, he was sure to die in his spot . A victory smile she kept her head on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her , she could hear the now steady beating of his heart as he gotten comfortable in the new position his hand rubbing up and down her back . Wasn't long til the two got way to comfortable and feel asleep in each others arms to content to even care .

[unclewaynemunson]

After Eddie and Max were brought into the hospital, the waiting room was packed with people. But as time passed by, it got quieter. One by one, worried parents came by to pick up their kids.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?” Robin asked Steve when her mother arrived.

Steve nodded. “Go home, Rob, it's okay. Just wanna make sure Max's mom and Eddie's uncle get here.”

She shot him a worried look, but she knew him well enough to recognize when she wouldn't be able to persuade him – and Steve in turn knew that there was no way Mrs. Buckley would leave the hospital without Robin, after all that had happened that night.

So Steve stayed and waited with Lucas in Max's room for Mrs. Mayfield. When she arrived, he decided to give them some privacy and wandered over to Eddie's room a couple of doors down the hall.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if Eddie would already have returned from the operation room – and if so, if it would be good or bad news waiting for him on the other side of the door.

He swallowed. Waiting motionlessly in the corridor wouldn't change what he'd find. So he raised his hand and slowly pushed the door open.

Eddie was inside, leaning against a pillow in his bed. He was as white as the sheets around him and he had large stitches in one of his cheeks, but other than that, he looked – alive.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed out while an overwhelming wave of relief washed over him.

It was only then that he noticed the other people in the room and stopped in his tracks.

Eddie's uncle was sitting at his bedside, wearing sweatpants and only an undershirt underneath his denim jacket. He looked exhausted, but just as relieved as Steve felt.

But that wasn't what had sparked Steve's surprise. No, the thing that Steve couldn't make sense of, was the man who was sat in the chair next to Wayne Munson. It was Steve's old middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. He was dressed in a plaid flannel that seemed more Mr. Munson's style than his own, buttoned askew on top of a pair of striped pajama pants.

“Mr. Clarke? What are you doing here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Who are you?” Mr. Munson asked Steve before Mr. Clarke could say anything. It sounded defensive on the verge of being aggressive, but Steve couldn't really blame him for that, considering what the majority of Hawkins currently thought about Eddie.

“Steve Harrington,” he said, holding out his hand.

The lines on Mr. Munson's forehead deepened.

“He's my friend,” Eddie said. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but Steve still felt a rush of warmth course through his whole body because of the words he said. “He saved my life.”

“Oh.” Mr. Munson's eyes widened slightly and he finally took Steve's hand. “Wayne Munson. Eddie's uncle. Pleased meetin' ya.”

“It's good to see you again, Steve,” Mr. Clarke remarked. “You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you.”

“I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Clarke,” Steve noted, still trying to make sense of what exactly his old science teacher was doing in this room.

“Uncle Scott is also my uncle,” Eddie explained.

Steve looked back and forth between Mr. Munson and Mr. Clarke, trying to find any kind of resemblance between the two of them.

“You're brothers?” he couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. He would never have guessed that those two men were related to each other.

“Steve, no...” Eddie's voice was almost a whisper and had an undertone of something that sounded an awful lot like exasperation. Steve knew that tone all too well; he had never been good at restraining himself from asking stupid questions, after all.

He noticed how the two men exchanged some kind of meaningful glance with each other.

“Um, I think we should go get some coffee, Wayne,” Mr. Clarke said. “Leave the boys to catch up.”

Mr. Munson nodded, but before he got up, he looked at Eddie. "You'll be alright?" he asked, a worried frown on his face.

Eddie nodded. "It's fine, Uncle Wayne." He said it softly, like he was trying to reassure his uncle, and only after Eddie gave him another emphatic nod, Mr. Munson started following Mr. Clarke out of the room.

Just when Steve realized Mr. Clarke must be Eddie's uncle from his mom's side while Mr. Munson had to be his dad's brother, Wayne let his hand linger on the small of Mr. Clarke's back. It was a tiny moment, that only lasted a second right before they went through the door, easy to miss if one weren't paying close attention. But it was still enough for Steve to understand the exasperation in Eddie's voice and the unease on his uncles' faces. That one touch told Steve all he needed to know: there was this casual, easy kind of intimacy behind it that only long-term partners shared. He had seen his parents act like that, and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair...

“No fucking way,” he breathed out at the moment the door quietly shut behind Mr. Munson. He turned back to Eddie with wide eyes and his jaw dropped.

“Your uncle is – and he's with Scott Clarke?”

Eddie's jaw clenched. “You got a problem with that?”

In his pure astonishment, Steve barely even registered Eddie's question.

“That's impossible!” he all but exclaimed. “Here – in Hawkins? How?!”

Eddie looked slightly past Steve's face, to the bare white wall behind him. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he said. “You've seen dozens of hell monsters and walked through an alternate dimension to fight an evil sorcerer, and this is what you decide is impossible?”

“Well, it is,” Steve stubbornly said.

He remembered how he once felt about his teammate Thomas, back in his freshman year, remembered the ache in his chest exactly because of how impossible it was. He remembered Robin talking about Tammy Thompson in that bathroom stall filled with the scent of their puke. But Tammy Thompson is a girl, he had said, in his instinctive and perhaps naive confusion - not because he deemed it impossible for Robin to feel that way about a girl, but because up until that point, he had deemed it irrelevant. He knew better than anyone that those kind of feelings would flare up from time to time around certain people, but as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. There was no way to act on it, no point in lingering on something that was impossible to have anyway.

“They've been together for over a decade,” Eddie said. His voice suddenly lacked its usual warmth; a warmth that Steve had gotten used to over the past few days; a warmth that left a weird feeling of loss behind in Steve's chest now that it wasn't there. “They make each other happy. They don't hurt anyone with it. So don't fucking tell me it's impossible, man. They love each other, and if you're gonna be a dick about that, I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to fuck the hell off.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Steve hurriedly sputtered. “I'm not – I didn't-” The words got stuck in his throat, somehow. He didn't quite know how to explain the storm that was raging inside of him, the many emotions he felt upon discovering that there were two men happily sharing their lives together, who lived in the same town as he did. Two men who were just like him, who had figured out a way to not hide away, who had somehow found their way to each other, and who had fallen in love without it being something they needed to repress.

“I didn't know – that it could be like that,” he finally managed to stutter. “I never even imagined a future like that for myself. I didn't know – I thought we were just supposed to pretend like those parts of ourselves don't exist and marry a woman. I never met anyone who did it differently.”

Finally, Eddie averted his gaze to look at him again. His eyes were a little bit wider and he was staring at him so intensely that Steve felt something stir deep in his stomach.

“Stevie,” he said, his voice quiet and so much warmer than before in a way that sent a shiver down Steve's spine. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I had no idea. I thought you were saying..." He cut himself off and inhaled deeply, slightly shaking his head. "Listen, man, there's always a choice. I'm not saying it's easy; my uncles have to hide a lot of what they mean to each other when they're in public. They're risking Scott's job, and maybe even a whole lot more if the wrong people find out about them... But there is always a choice. They're much happier together than they would've been if they had chosen to hide and marry a woman, or if they'd spent their whole lives alone.”

Steve had to take a moment to let Eddie's words sink in. Eddie merely kept looking at him, not making a single sound, patiently waiting for him to get his thoughts straight again.

“Are there more people like them, here in Hawkins?” Steve finally asked.

“Not many,” Eddie answered. “Most people who are different move to the bigger cities, where you're a bit more free to be yourself. But they're friends with this lesbian couple who lives a few streets over. And they know some people in Indy, but Wayne refuses to move there. He's too much of a small town boy, he says.” Eddie rolled his eyes at that last part, as if he could in no way comprehend the thought of preferring Hawkins over a big city like Indianapolis.

But Steve did comprehend it. Hawkins was his home. Even after everything that happened to him here, it was where he belonged. It was where everyone he cared about was. He wasn't naive, he knew that that was bound to change at some point, but he had never dared to dream about going someplace else himself. He had never even dared to dream about being someone else. Yet here he was, sitting at the bedside of a boy whose eyes he hadn't stopped thinking about for days.

Maybe it was about time to change his perception of what was possible and what wasn't.

“I know one person who's like – like me,” he admitted. He wanted to tell Eddie about Robin. He knew that there was nothing to worry about – but he also knew it wasn't up to him to share her secret. “I don't know if this is a weird idea," he continued, "but maybe we could all, like, get together sometime. Your uncle, mister Clarke, their lesbian friends...” The idea of it made him feel weirdly excited. He couldn't really imagine what it would be like, to spend a whole evening surrounded by people he had this one thing in common with.

“Not a weird idea,” Eddie told him, that soft look still shining in his big brown eyes. “Sounds awesome, actually.”

“If we do something like that...” Steve hesitated for a moment. “Would you be there too?”

Despite the stitches in his cheek, Eddie managed to smile, dimples and all. He raised a pale hand and pulled a strand of his hair across his face, like he was trying to hide something written on the skin around his lips. “I thought that was obvious,” he said with a chuckle.

Steve chuckled as well. “Just needed to be sure,” he admitted.

He stretched out his hand and put it on top of Eddie's, where it was resting on top of the sheets. It only took a few seconds: he gently squeezed Eddie's hand, then pulled back again, still nervous and not quite knowing what exactly they were headed towards. But no matter how short, the touch still sent sparks through his whole body.

“I'm glad you're alive,” he said, softly.

Eddie's smile became just a little bit wider, and a faint blush colored his pale cheeks. “Me too, big boy. Believe me, me too.”

(I wrote this bc this post by @boldlyvoid refused to leave my brain for literal months)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

Please.

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

[shootingstarpilot]

Do you have any advice for writing Mace Windu?

Hello friend! I've been sitting on this for a while, because everyone's got their own interpretations, but mine is based on an idea I was struggling to put words to.

(Caveat that I have not read Legends material, that people can write what they like, etc. etc.)

The way I see it, Lucas specializes in writing stories in terms of themes and archetypes. This is why certain dialogue choices or the development of certain relationships can be... clunky, let's go with that. Characters (Obi-Wan and Anakin fall into their own category, sure) are written primarily as archetypes. You have Yoda as the wise old sage, Sidious as the ultimate evil-

And Mace Windu as the ultimate good.

We see this in the Chancellor's office, right? During the final showdown. This is the moment where Anakin makes his choice- stay in the Light or Fall- and the characters visually representing that choice are Palpatine and Mace. He's the Master of the Order. He's raised a Padawan who sits on the Council with him. He's an incredibly skilled swordsman- hell, his fighting style of choice (Vaapad) epitomizes how clearly he's mastered the art of internal balance!

All of that to say- his whole character is built around the idea that he is the Good Guy. That would be the one piece of writing advice I would give. If you're wondering how to write him, start with that idea- that he is written to represent the absolute opposite of Sidious. He's the ultimate good. He is the illuminating Light to Sidious' corrupting Dark. This is why antagonistic portrayals of him never ring true to me- they're coming from a foundational understanding that I simply do not subscribe to. It reeks of a fundamental misunderstanding of his character and of the whole saga's themes.

(And also racism. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the racism that too often plays a significant role.)

All of that being said, what might it look like to write from the foundation of Mace being the representation of ultimate good? The good thing about characters being written as archetypes is that it gives us fans a significant amount of freedom in determining what those characters look like when they're written as characters. Different people will have different takes, but for me:

Well, first off- he's the epitome of a Jedi. So all of what that entails- he is fundamentally kind, fundamentally compassionate, and fundamentally in control of himself.

He's funny. I think he has a very dry sense of humor, and that he finds joy in the smallest things.

He loves so much. He loves his Padawan, he loves his friends, he loves his family, he loves the Republic- he loves the galaxy enough to go to war for it, and he loves the men who'll kill his people.

There will never be a situation where he has the capacity to help and chooses not to.

And last but not least, I choose to believe that this man can bake pastries with the best of them. In my heart of hearts, he's a stress baker, and he mends his socks with purple thread.

Hope this helps!

[outmakingmoonshine]

The hug was awkward and he didn't even look at her but:

his hand on her waist 😭 then immediately he finds her waist again to guide her to their table

And he keeps it there as he introduces her to the table of his peers as "Chef Sydney", something they'll all know is used as a sign of respect. He's immediately letting them know he respects her in the kitchen and she's gets their world, she's one of them

And it's still there...they've stopped at the table now, he's not guiding her anymore but his hand's still just resting on her waist while he stops to casually wave to a work friend??? He only lets Syd go right before he introduces her to Luca.

Why does this look and feel like a man proudly introducing his gf/wife to all his work friends?!! It's so domestic!

This was an unnecessary amount of time to keep his hand on his "platonic" business partner tbh and it reminds me of the signals men subtly give each other in situations like this to make it clear the person is his, she's with him "like that" so no one else should try anything with her. Very selfish of him tbh but he's also very much in love with her and unable to help himself.

Not to mention, other than Evil Chef, that table/room is probably full of the majority of people he knows, spent time with and has respect for outside of his family, everyone connected to his past etc and he asked, no INSISTED, Sydney came with him to meet them all 😭😭

I think he wanted Syd to come as moral support bc he knew EC would be there. When Syd said everyone will be there Carmy was like "Yeah, everyone 😐" like he was thinking of seeing EC again. The next thing he says is Syd should come. Then she said no and insisted, he even cracked a small chuckle as it became like he was asking her out. And saying what sounds like much more than it seems on the surface:

"Syd, it's forEver."

"Yeah I know."

"So what are you talking about? You should come"

"Okay."

"Good."

"Good."

The way Jeremy delivered that dialogue gives me the same vibes as "Family style? Two tops? Booths?". He's saying one thing but asking her a whole other thing in the unspoken language they share.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lucky Me

Requested Here by @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy/insecure!fem!reader

Summary: Deacon loves you and he considers himself lucky to have you. Unfortunately, you can't see what he sees, so he takes it upon himself to show you just how lucky he is with you.

Warnings: discussion/depiction of insecurities and feeling unworthy, flirting, fluff, loads of comfort and reassurances

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your fingers rake over your outfit as your eyes catch on everything you deem an imperfection. As your reflection stares back at you, distorted, shy, unworthy of the man on his way to pick you up for a date, you wonder, what does Deacon see in me?

Deacon Kay is the opposite of what you think you deserve. He’s kind, loving, handsome, and makes you feel seen, even when you don’t want to be. As your mind races and your hands tingle to fix something deep beneath the surface of your skin, someone knocks and harshly pulls you back to reality. You take a deep breath and tug the fabric of your outfit away from your skin once more before you walk out of your room and to the door.

“Hi, Deac,” you greet.

“You look beautiful,” he replies as he steps inside. When his eyes meet yours, he proves to you that no one will ever be able to love you like he does. “Are you okay?”

While you nod, you ask, “Do I look alright?”

“Better than alright,” Deacon assures. “Ready to go?”

“I think so.”

Deacon smiles, and your breath catches as your eyes drop. He takes your hand and leads you to his car. Deacon’s a gentleman, the most handsome guy you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel that he could do so much better.

“You’re sure I look alright?” you repeat as you lower into his passenger seat.

“Absolutely.”

As he walks to the driver’s door, Deacon sighs. You can ask him if you look alright a hundred times, but he’s still trying to catch his breath. He knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Deacon is learning that showing you every single day that you are all he wants is the only way to convince you he’s all in, and if that helps you build some confidence, even better.

Your fingers are twisted in your top when Deacon starts the car. He leaves the car in park to turn toward you. Gently, he pulls your hands away from your stomach and rubs your knuckles. His smile is the perfect reward when your shy gaze finally reaches his eyes.

“Listen, you could honestly show up wearing a beat-up tee, and you’d still be the centerpiece,” Deacon tells you. He shushes you kindly when you shake your head. “If you don’t believe me… There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, okay? The way you look tonight – every night – you’re what I want, but I want you to see what I see.”

“I think-“ You swallow and force your voice to remain steady as you finish, “I think you see something that isn’t there, Deacon.”

Deacon’s big brown eyes harden quickly before his gaze softens. He’s lucky to have you; if you can’t see that, he’ll shout it from the rooftops until you hear him, too.

The day after your date, you don’t hear from Deacon. It’s not unusual; he’s got a busy and dangerous job, but after exposing the extent of your insecurities, it concerns you. If Deacon finally saw what you see in the mirror or realized that other women would be lucky to have him, you may have lost the best thing that ever happened to you.

You’ve been shy your whole life; you are used to that, but the insecurity rooting itself deep in your identity gets stronger daily. A relationship with a man like Deacon shouldn’t be marked by how often he reassures you that he wants you. For now, that voice deep down ridicules. As you drop your head into your hands, you ask yourself if there’s any chance that Deacon meant what he said last night and the other times he’s told you he’s lucky to have you.

“Deac, you got anything to get off your chest?” Luca asks.

Deacon shakes his head and throws another punch. Luca staggers backward at the force behind Deacon’s hit. He’s strong, his teammates know that, but this is different.

“How’d the date go last night?” Luca adds.

“I wish I knew,” Deacon replies.

“What does that mean, man?”

Deacon drops his arms and steps out of his fighting stance. “She’s…” Deacon takes a deep breath to order his thoughts. “I’m so lucky to have her, but I feel like she’s slipping out of my hands and doesn’t believe me when I try to bring her back in.”

Luca nods. Other men might poke fun at Deacon’s romantic analogy or that he’s willing to fight for a woman, but Luca knows Deacon means every word he says.

“What does she need?”

“Something that I can’t order from a florist.”

“You’ll figure it out, Deacon. If she’s still around, sounds to me like she’s fighting to stay close, too.”

“I just… I hate that I can’t help her in that fight.”

“It’s not what you want to hear, but fight your battle, Deac. You love her, that’ll be enough.”

“I hope so.”

Deacon waves his hand up, and Luca raises the punching pad again. If Deacon stops pulling his punches again, Luca won’t complain.

“Hey,” you say softly as the call connects. “Sorry for calling in the middle of the day, but I was just-“

“No, it’s my fault,” Deacon interrupts. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You pick at the pillow in your lap, waiting for Deacon to say something else.

“Are you busy?”

“Right now? No.”

“Good. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Why?” The question slips out before you consider how it sounds. “I mean-“

“I know,” Deacon says, and you can hear his smile in his tone. “Get ready, do whatever you need, and I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“Perfect.”

The line beeps as Deacon ends the call, and you look at the dark screen. Twenty minutes isn’t much time, so you stand and pull your favorite outfit from the closet. You ignore the mirror as you walk past it. Deacon didn’t say what he was planning to do with you, so you dressed for casual comfort. Luckily, some of your insecurities have been silenced since the last time you saw Deacon. You know all too well that they’re waiting for the perfect opportunity to rear their ugly heads again.

You wait at the door for Deacon’s knock and smile as he offers his hand. He compliments your beauty – not your hair or your outfit specifically, but you as a whole person – and you don’t question it this time. It’s a small change, but one that you owe to Deacon.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“I was going to take you to lunch, but Luca’s food truck is stopping by HQ in about an hour. I thought we'd just stay there. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” you agree. “Is your squad still there?”

“Yep. You can finally meet all the people who listen to me talk about how lucky I am to have you.”

You smile at your lap, and Deacon moves his hand into your line of sight. He sighs as you take his hand and squeezes your fingers.

“Thanks,” he says.

“For?”

I know you won’t believe me, Deacon thinks. “You’re all I want. Thanks for giving me the chance to be with you, look a fool, count my blessings, all of it.”

“You’re welcome… I think.”

Deacon laughs at your questioning tone, and the smile on his face makes the wall of doubts about yourself crack. But it shouldn’t be his job to fight your insecurities. That’s not a relationship.

“Your friends sound nice,” you tell Deacon. “I didn’t think you’d introduce me to them so soon.”

“They practically know you already. I make them look at what I’ve got, and it’s you.”

You move your free hand over Deacon’s and run your finger across his wrist. Deacon pulls into the parking lot outside HQ, and you take a deep breath. He releases your hand slowly, then helps you out of the car.

“They’re a lot,” he warns. “Mostly Street.”

“They’re your family,” you counter. “I’ll be fine.”

Deacon’s lips pick up at the corners. You want to ask what that’s about, but he leads you around a corner before you can. Several men are standing beside the boxing ring, and when one of them sees Deacon, everything changes. He slaps the arm of the man closest to him, but his eyes never leave you.

Four men turn at his reaction, and all of their jaws drop. You smile shyly as Deacon leads you toward them. After a moment that stretches into an hour, the man closest to Deacon snaps out of his stupor.

“Hey!” he greets. “I’m Luca. I’ve heard a lot about you, but Deacon clearly undersold your beauty.”

You say your name quietly, then welcome Luca’s hug. It’s a friendly one, but it breaks the tension and alleviates some of the awkwardness hanging over you.

“Any girlfriend of Deacon’s is a part of the family, so welcome,” Luca adds as he steps back.

“Family, yeah,” the younger man agrees quickly. “We put the fun in dysfunctional.”

“Street,” Deacon sighs, raising his hands in question.

“What? I’m nervous,” Street replies.

“Me too,” you agree with a smile.

“No need to be. We’re harmless, except for Street’s terrible fashion sense. I’m Victor Tan, nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

You shake his hand before you notice Deacon has taken a step to the side and is talking to the leader of his team, Hondo. You’ve heard about him, but if he took Deacon aside to talk about you, maybe your insecurities about being with Deacon weren’t unfounded or invisible.

Deacon turns back toward you, and when his eyes meet yours, he gets lost in them. Your beauty knocks him off his feet sometimes and makes him forget to speak and breathe, yet he never forgets to tell you or show you that he loves you after that initial moment of losing himself in you, the woman who makes him the luckiest man in the world.

“You could’ve warned us, Deac,” Hondo says.

“About what?” Deacon replies, looking away from you slowly.

“She’s stunning! I don’t remember the last time a woman made me speechless, let alone Street.”

“Make a move on her and I’ll kill you Hondo,” Deacon jokes.

Hondo laughs with Deacon before he says, “I’m glad to see you happy again, brother. It’s been too long.”

“Happy,” Deacon repeats. “Look at her, I’m lucky.”

Hondo taps Deacon’s shoulder and steps past him to greet you. You introduce yourself with a smile that isn’t quite so shy now, and it makes Deacon’s heart pound in his chest. If you’re in the family now, maybe Deacon can finally convince you to see what he sees.

He walks to your side, and when he realizes you’re talking to Luca and Street about your favorite dessert, he smiles and wraps his arm around your waist. You mention that Deacon gets it for you often, and he can only think, look at you. Lucky me.

“Do you want to dance?” Deacon asks.

The music changes, and you hesitate but lay your hand in his. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you to pull you closer. You laugh in his arms, and it shines brighter than all of the lights above you.

“You’re perfect,” Deacon whispers. You don’t hear him, but he doubts you would have listened anyway.

“Of course you can dance,” you muse, rolling your eyes despite your smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Make you listen when I say you are perfect. “Plenty,” Deacon says.

“Do you think you could dip me?” you ask.

Deacon smiles. Every time he sees you, you seem a bit more confident than before. It’s slow, but as you gain confidence without sacrificing your shy and loveable personality, Deacon reminds you that he’s lucky and that you’re all he will ever want. As you stop arguing, Deacon prays you’re beginning to accept and believe it.

“Oh, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” Deacon murmurs. “One dip coming up.”

“And if I want to keep dancing?”

“There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do. Don’t care if I look like a fool.”

You smile as Deacon pulls you closer to keep dancing, and for a moment, you believe that Deacon really would do anything. But you still can’t see what about you makes him think he’s lucky to be here with you.

Back at the table, you sit back in your seat and exhale. Time passed quickly with Deacon, and you danced with him until you physically couldn’t spin another time.

“You’re amazing!” you tell Deacon.

“You’re beautiful,” Deacon replies. “But don’t take that, any of what I say, as surface things. It goes miles deeper.”

Your post-dance excitement lowers when you see the seriousness in Deacon’s eyes. You nod, believing him more than ever. He loves you and thinks that he’s lucky to have you. Deacon thinks you are all he has ever wanted. When your smile returns and you whisper thank you, Deacon knows you’re finally seeing it.

You wake to a voicemail from Deacon. It’s over a minute long, and he left it around 2 a.m. With your lips pressed together and your nerves coming to life in the early morning sunlight, you press play.

“Hey, I know you’re still asleep and I’m sorry to do it like this,” Deacon says. His voice sounds strained, and you close your eyes. “There was a big raid last night. It went downhill and we got called in to assist. Now that we’re here and we’ve got our guy, we’re dealing with the fallout, too. I… I’m leaving for a few days. 20 Squad is assisting the Marshals. I can’t tell you where we’re going or talk to you while I’m gone. But the moment I get back- when I get back, I’m coming to see you. I love you.”

Hondo calls for Deacon in the background of the voicemail before it ends. You release a breath; days without Deacon aren’t what you want, but it’s better than the alternative you considered. There’s no chance that you can go back to sleep now, so you set your phone aside and get out of bed.

You walk past the mirror in your room, then stop. Taking a few steps backward, you turn toward the mirror. The eyes looking back at you aren’t the same ones you saw a few weeks ago. The woman you see now is loved, wanted, and appreciated; she’s beautiful, and the man that she loves feels the same about her. Everything that Deacon has told you – "the way you look tonight has got me thinking I wanna shout it from the rooftops." "I got somebody who’s all that I want, and it’s you." I want you to see what I see" – is in front of the mirror. It’s all in you.

The second realization you make as you meet your own eyes in the mirror is far more impactful. It makes you run into the kitchen to read the card from the first bouquet Deacon sent you, then call his boss. You'll need his help to show Deacon how much he means to you the moment he returns.

When the team returns from their trip with the Marshals, Hondo walks into HQ first. He looks tired, but he smiles when he sees you. You wave, and he raises a finger. You take that to mean Deacon will be right in.

When Deacon does walk in, he sees you, and his eyes light up. It makes sense now. What does Deacon see in me? What he sees in you is precisely what you see in Deacon.

Deacon drops his bag and speeds up to meet you. He doesn’t ask how you found out when he’d be back; that will come later. For now, he needs you.

“Look at you,” you murmur as he approaches. “Lucky me.”

Deacon smiles, and his eyes are as bright and loving as always. He places his left hand gently on the back of your head and pulls you forward. You smile into the kiss as Deacon relaxes against you. His right hand raises to your jaw as he tilts your chin up, and you loop your arms under his to pull yourself impossibly closer to the man that made you the luckiest woman in the world.

“Woo, Deac!” Hondo exclaims as you pull back.

Deacon presses his forehead to yours and smiles.

“Put a ring on her or I will!” Hondo adds.

“What changed?” Deacon whispers.

“I finally saw what you saw. Everything you said you saw in me – all that you want – is what I see in you, too. Sorry it took me a while to realize,” you answer.

“Lucky me.”

[shares-a-vest]

Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling

Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!

“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.

“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.

Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.

... But not really.

Like, at all.

He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.

Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.

So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.

It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.

It’s just a shirt.

A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.

One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.

It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.

They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.

He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.

The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!

And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.

Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.

The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.

It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.

Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.

He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.

“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.

“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”

He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.

The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.

He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.

“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.

“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”

He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.

And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.

“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.

Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.

He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.

And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.

It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.

It’s perfect.

Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.

Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed some more.

Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.

It’s just the he –

“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 

His eyes blow wide in an instant.

And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.

Steve loves him?

Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.

All because of one perfect t-shirt.

Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.

“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.

He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.

Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.

They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.

Like it is already worn in and loved.

He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.

But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.

“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.

He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.

Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.

He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.

But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.

“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”

“You do?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.

And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.

They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.

“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.

Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.

“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.

He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.

Relaxed.

Loved.

Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.

But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.

It’s good like this.

Calm. Warm.

Soft.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 31

Part 30

The crowd was filled to the brim. Eddie’s inner circle was seated in the royal viewing box. Eddie wasn’t there yet though. Because of course he had to make an entrance. As a great black bird, he flew over the venue, his cry echoing through the field. He landed in the center of the arena in an explosion of black shadows as he took his human form to the cheers of his subjects. 

“Dearest people of the land!”, he addressed. “We have gathered to settle the dispute between two men. But before I introduce them, let me settle the rumors. I am indeed courting Steven of the house Harrington.���

There was a hushed murmur among the audience. So it was true. Their king was trying to gain the favor of a prince from a country that had until recently been challenging their borders. The people had chalked up the lull in activity to the usual break when the demobeasts went into hibernation. But could it have been because of this? Eddie wouldn’t reveal that Steve had been taken hostage and had turned into a ward of his castle. That was Steve’s story to tell should he wish it. Eddie would only say what his people deserved to know.

“That brings us to today. For one man has sullied the names of us both and my intended requires satisfaction.” He was beaming, happy to have someone who burned with a righteous fury for him.”Without further ado! Our combatants!” He gave a sweeping bow to applause as Jason and Steve entered from opposite sides of the arena.

“Jason Carver has laid down words that he refuses to take back. Steven Harrington has thrown down the challenge. What are the terms?”

“Apologize to your sovereign and swear fealty, or meet your end at my hand”, Steve said, expression hard and unforgiving.

“I will do no such thing. And when you yield to me, your only path will be banishment”, Jason replied, face just as stern.

The clasped arms and then turned to go back to opposite ends of the arena. Eddie floated over to the viewing box and waited for both of them to grab their weapons of choice. Jason picked up a sword and shield, a classic decision. When he turned to meet Steve’s gaze, he could see that the prince’s choice wasn’t quite as common.

Steve went without a shield. And grasped tightly in both hands instead was a war hammer. The staff stopped just short of his shoulder, the head about twice as large as his own. The rod ended with an iron counterweight. Eddie looked to Lucas.

“Has he been training with that this whole time?”

“He’s a pro”, Lucas praised.

Dustin’s whole mouth showed with his smile. “Carver is about to get tenderized like a steak.”

“A brutish weapon befitting a barbarian”, Jason said, more to the crowd than to Steve.

Steve’s expression didn’t change as he got in his stance and waited for Eddie to officially start the bout. Eddie stood from his seat, his voice reverberating through all in attendance as he shouted.

“BEGIN!”

Jason did catch Steve a little off guard when he lunged first, closing the distance between them. With the kind of weapon Steve was wielding, most would keep away. But he could guess as to why Jason wanted the first blow. He wanted this to be quick and decisive. Anyone would fold with a few well placed cuts and stabs.

He was probably also hoping to tire Steve out. Steve would make sure it wasn’t so easy for him. When Jason lunged, he stepped out of the way and swung his hammer. Jason raised his shield to take the blow and blocked it well, but his eyes popping said he hadn’t been expecting the power behind it.

Jason re-evaluated, taking a step back. And where he retreated, Steve would advance, making wide swings that had Jason backing up even more.

Eddie’s hands were clenched into fists in his lap. He had caught Steve training Lucas a couple times and sure he took things seriously, but it was a master putting a student through his trials. Eddie hadn’t been allowed to view Steve’s personal training this week. But he’d seen knight after knight tending to their bruises. If he’d been able to watch Steve then, was this the sight he would’ve seen? Steve moving like both a dancer and a predator, his hammer his loyal partner.

The hollers of the kids told him that even this was different than what they had seen. He imagined Steve wouldn’t attack his knights with the ferocity he was meeting Jason with. At one point, Steve slammed it down and Jason just barely jumped out of the way. When Steve pulled it back up, Eddie could see the dent in the ground. A hit in the right place and broken bones would be the least of Jason’s worries.

Then Steve stopped his onslaught, taking a breath as he circled Jason. When he started again, Jason raised his shield to each attempt, seemingly blocking them all. 

“He’s gonna turn Carver’s arm to paste”, Nancy commented.

Part of the crowd was raising their voices in cheer for Jason, unable to see what Nancy’s eyes did. Steve kept going for Jason’s left side, wanting him to use his shield. Because while it stopped him from hitting Jason’s entire body, it still took the brunt force of the hammer coming down on it. And that was evident as each time his arm was slower and slower to rise.

Tired of being on the defensive, Jason lowered his shield to jab at Steve. He managed to get a few knicks in, going for Steve’s head each time and giving him cuts on his neck and face. Eddie’s leg bobbed anxiously. He didn’t think Steve would lose. The only question was how much damage would he take before claiming victory.

The crowd wasn’t sure what to make of Steve, many recognizing him from dominating the spring games but not knowing his true identity then. In a shocking move, Jason dropped his shield and threw his sword at Steve. He dodged and it lodged itself into the ground, but that confusion was enough of a distraction for Jason to tackle him to the ground. The staff of the hammer stood between them, both men pushing on it.

“Forfeit and all will be forgiven”, Jason said. “We will wed and this can all be forgotten. I’ll make an honest man out of you.”

“What?”

“You know I’m the right choice.”

With a roar, Steve pushed Jason off and rose up to his knees. “You’re vile and I’m going to end you.” he set his hammer, head side down and grabbed the sword Jason had been using. He tossed it back to him, waiting for him to pick it up.

When Jason did, Steve picked up his hammer again. This time he didn’t hold back. He advanced, forcing Jason to make fruitless slashes. Steve used the end of his hammer to knock Jason’s wrist, forcing him to drop the sword. He could see the fear in Jason’s eyes but didn’t let up. His next strike was with the head of the hammer, getting Jason right in the leg and making him fall to the ground. 

Steve stood over him, hammer poised to strike. But he paused to look at Eddie, his shoulders rising and falling as he panted. 

Eddie’s eyes had been glued to Steve’s form. As had everyone else’s. But at this pause, the crowd hushed, waiting for their king’s decision. Would he smile with grace on the Carver boy? Or would he approve his execution?

Eddie stood up. “He is at your mercy, Your Highness.”

It had been so long since anyone had referred to Steve like that. With any sort of respect or reverence for his title. He looked down at Jason, imagined his head cracking like a melon and the crowd cheering for him. The rightful order restored. He slammed his hammer down, splitting the ground under it, but not Jason’s head.

“You live by the grace of me”, Steve said, picking his hammer up and raising it above his head to thunderous cheers.

Jason was stationary on the ground until people came to gather him and check over his wrist and leg. 

Eddie jumped out of the box and ran right to Steve, grabbing his free hand and lifting it up. “Our champion!”

Steve was able to deposit the hammer with one of those employed by the castle’s armory and Eddie walked him out of the arena. Once out of sight from most of the crowd, Eddie scooped Steve up and Steve let him, exhausted from the fight.

“You were magnificent, a vision, unstoppable. Like a divine spirit of justice incarnate. Poets could spend ages trying to capture your excellence in words and would fail to do so.”

“Oh but I’m certain you’ll try”, Steve teased as Eddie carried him back to his tent to be tended to and freshen up. There were games scheduled for the small folk and for children as well. No need to let this good weather and arena only see one bout today.

When Steve rejoined the public, it was on the arm of the king and to his viewing box where all who could see observed their lord and ruler feed this mighty warrior by hand. And Steve had been right about Eddie trying his damndest to capture his feats in writing. Because just the next day, he awoke to about half a dozen love letters all about the previous day’s fight.

Part 32

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[claraswritings]

Luca and R go back to ever for the funeral and she’s pregnant and they’re married, maybe everyone knew he had a thing for her back then?

Awww, I love soft/fluffy Luca. I love that he’s a tall, blonde, tattooed, mentally stable man who can cook so in my head I’ve just decided ‘aha he is my perfect man. Gimme’

ALSO SOMEONE GIVE HIM A LAST NAME 😭 And make it cute. I’m terrible with making up names.

You placed one hand over your stomach some what self consciously, wondering if the dress was flattering against your bump.

“Do I look pregnant or do I just look like I’ve ate a whole cake?” You asked Luca quietly, you were half joking but still getting used to it. Your baby bump was small but still noticeable against the floaty material of your black dress. He loved seeing you pregnant, he thought you were always beautiful but knowing you had his baby in you just exemplified that tenfold.

“I think people might guess there’s my little baby in there but…” he paused, Luca linked your hand with his and lifted it to kiss. “But….you are married to a pastry chef darling, so I’d be offended if you weren’t eating cakes. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room either way, my love”

You smiled and stood on tiptoes to get closer and Luca leant down and kissed you softly, hands instantly balancing you around your waist to support you.

“I’m married to the best pastry chef.” You smiled, muttering a compliment against his lips.

“The best, eh?” Luca asked “that’s high praise”

“The best.” You reiterated with a nod.

“How’d you come to that conclusion, love?” He rose an eyebrow, waiting for your response, teasing but enjoying how much you liked his baking.

“Well…” you started “I have a theory…”

Luca bent down to kiss you again, moving a hand around to hold your small bump. “Go on?”

“You’re the pastry chef at the best restaurant…in the capital of the country known for pastries. Therefore you’re the best.”

He laughed “Can’t argue with that flawless logic.”

“You can’t argue with your pregnant wife anyway. Its against…the law in every country” you tease “you knocked me up…you have to agree with me”

There was a moment of silence before.

“I love you so much.” Luca said softly and pulled you in closer to him for another gentle kiss.

You carried on, you on tiptoes pressing soft kisses to his lips in the quiet hallway of a restaurant. Something about it felt a little teenage, stealing kisses at a ‘funeral’, even though you were both well past your teens.

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips.

You carried on like this, a few gentle kisses before a cough sounded and you separated again like teenagers rather than a grown married couple.

“Luca?” followed by your name.

Carmy hadn’t changed. He still had the same wide blue eyes and curly hair.

“You…you two got together then huh?” He said looking between the two of you,

He’d always been kind of quietly intense. You’d put it down to just single track focus with perfecting whatever dish being his only goal. He was, of course, the best at what he did. Today he looked like his mind was elsewhere.

“And you’re…you’re pregnant? You’re having a baby?”

Nodding you smiled.

“Wow…um, congratulations” he offered Luca and handshake which Luca, being ever friendly turned into a hug before he did the same with you.

“I did sometimes wonder why you weren’t together earlier yknow,” Carmy said “Luca always…I thought you were together already from way he talked about you…”

“We got there eventually… took the long way around” you joked, a reference to how you and Luca had been close friends for well over a decade before you’d both confessed your feelings as more than friendship.

“How’s the restaurant?” You asked.

Carmy’s pastry chef Marcus had visited Copenhagen last year. He and Luca had stayed in touch but you were interested to hear from Carmy himself.

“It’s…uh…it’s going.” He nodded, his mind looking elsewhere “you two should come in. On the house of course”

Luca grinned “We’d love to, mate. Would be great to see how Marcus is getting on too. I have this brilliant new technique for glazed creme he’d love.”

That was something you loved so much about Luca. He was so patient, so kind, so willing to share ideas. The fact he was excited about getting to talk techniques with a friend was so…sweet to you. Your lovely pastry nerd. You smiled up at him and then let the two of them catch up for a few minutes, wandering off to board full of photos to look. It wouldn’t be long before you felt Luca’s arm around you.

“I always thought he fancied you.” Luca commented, he leant down for a kiss, having said he’d see his friend inside.

“Carmen?” You laughed “I don’t think he did.”

“Oh he did. Remember when he came to visit us? In Copenhagen? Before we were together?” Luca held you close to him as you nodded. “I kept thinking he’d steal you away…”

Luca’s tone was light but you could tell there was a hint of insecurity there. You’d been there when they’d first worked together and Luca had found himself second best in a lot of things. It had been tough on him, lots of ranting and late nights and obsessing until he’d opted to learn from Carmy rather than force a competition.

Eventually Luca got better and better and they found different culinary paths which eased a lot of the tension however of it still lingered a little when it came to you.

“No one ever could.” You said to him. “I was yours even before I was yours”

“I thought he was trying with his lamb, juniper and sea herbs dish” Luca whispered to you half jokingly, reassured by your emphatic words.

You laughed thinking back to one evening when Carmy had cooked for you all and then looked up to Luca, staring up at him “Yeah, It was delicious…but you know I’m a dessert girl.”

“I know you are.” Luca grinned and leant down to kiss you once again. “Because you’re my girl”

After a few seconds it clicked.

“Wait…Is that why you bought me the L?” You rose an eyebrow, looking down at the little silver L necklace that Luca had bought you a few weeks ago. “The wedding rings and the matching initial tattoos not enough? The baby bump?” She joked.

Luca could feel himself going a bit pink but kissed you anyway “maybe…” he hummed “but you like the L”

“I love the L” you replied

“And I love you” Luca grinned and your hands couldn’t help find the way to hook the little L out of the neckline of your shirt.

****

“And you’re head pastry chef at Noma, Luca? That passionfruit and kiwi dessert there was the best I’ve ever had!” One chef complimented Luca and you felt the pride swell as he thanked the man

“Thank you, it was a real labour of love, see the inspiration behind the passionfruit and kiwi is my wife.” He squeezed your thigh “she had this incredible passionfruit mousse in Aalborg when we went to celebrate the baby and she loves kiwi so I thought I’d make this curd that’s…”

God he was cute when he went on.

“Luca! Did I just overhear you refer to this lovely lady as your wife?” Chef Terry, or rather Andrea, asked “And you’re pregnant?”

Luca met his former mentors eyes and nodded equally as enthusiastic about you and the baby as he had been about breaking down his dessert. “Yes Chef Te- Andrea, we got married six months ago and baby is three months.”

“How exciting! Do you know the sex?”

“Not yet, Luca is getting one of his chefs to bake us a cake and we’ll cut it on the boat just the two of us” you explained. “We’re so excited”

“Well that sounds lovely” Andrea smiled “Have you got any inklings?”

You put a hand over your small bump “I don’t mind. I think it’ll be a boy…but as long as it has Luca’s eyes…and my football team” you joked.

“Ah…” Luca went to protest only for you to gently place a hand over his thigh. It was a playful argument you’d had about four times already.

“Luca, babe… when you birth the baby, then you can pick their team.” You teased back in the way you always had.

He cocked his head and gives you a wry grin, conceding you’d made a good point “Or we can have a second?” Luca lifted his hand from your thigh and lifted it to cup your jaw, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“Maybe…” you teased “Let’s let baby come out first before we start planning the second.”

“Love, I’m already planning the third” Luca pecked your lips once more before dropping his hand to hold yours over the table.

He wanted three. He’s always wanted three. You’d be happy with two but feel like if they have his beautiful eyes and soft blonde curls, you won’t be able to say no to three. Secretly you hoped they did.

“You two are adorable. I always knew he liked you as more than a friend” Another woman, older this time says.

“When did it click?” Andrea asked interested “Was it when he made that whole collection of nostalgia desserts for you? Those really were special Luca, I think that’s when we all realised how truly creative you were at pastry. That was one of the most cohesive projects one of my chefs has ever done”

Luca smiled, thanking his former mentor again.

“Remember when he kept his hair longer for well over a year because she called that little black hairband cute?” Another chef commented. “Or when he made the discontinued chocolate bar as a fancy dessert for her? Remember how late he stayed? Folding wafer?”

Luca was going redder and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. Deciding to spare his blushes, you spoke up.

“Hey if anyone should be embarrassed it’s me” you quickly said “I had this gorgeous man completely in love with me and I didn’t even realise! I was just like that’s Luca, he’s just so lovely.”

Luca gave your hand another squeeze as a silent thank you.

“You were worth the wait” he looked at you causing someone to ‘aww’.

“So were you”

“Maybe you’re both idiots” someone else chimed in breaking the tension and causing a laugh.

“And clearly the two of you caught up quick. Married and baby on the way after what? Eighteen months?” The older woman asked again.

“Sixteen” you said quickly. “But he’s been my best friend for years before that so…”

“Best friend is light. She always been my greatest inspiration and the love of my life” Luca lifted your hand and kissed it.

Luca was the love of your life. And you’d never been happier.

[justsomeopinions]

Some thoughts/comments on the Sunshine Court bc I'm going INSANE

- I have no idea how Nora manages to create characters I care so deeply about

- This bisexual French bitch is MY CHILD

- Despite the drama the gay players keep making me cry of laughter

- Like Neil telling the FBI that Jean got beaten for being a French idiot

- Is he autistic??? I mean when he finds out that Jeremy is gay he puts it in a very neurodivergent way (and Jeremy's "more exclusively than you" bc this guy is NOT subtle)

- Cat and Laila you have MY ENTIRE HEART

- "Jean knew better than looking at a man for too long"????? Kevin Day you better watch your back

- The frustration of people slut shaming him when he was literally SAd (good for him for saying he's better than the whole lineup without fucking anyone)

- Kevin and Jean being so complicated, but caring about each other above everything despite everything

- Jeremy absolutely losing his cool when he heard Jean say his name with the accent

- Jean thinking Kevin is sabotaging him for making him live with hot people is the funniest thing I've ever read

- I love Jean not hiding his attraction towards Jeremy

- Jeremy asking him to tell him if he ever feels unsafe (bc he knows about his history and is worried that Jean will be uncomfortable if he's attracted to him)

- And Jean only saying he doesn't feel safe when Jeremy was trying to get him to tell the truth about his injuries, IT KILLED ME

- And "letting go of Jean was the hardest thing Jeremy had ever done"

- Kevin was so much more sane from Jean's perspective lol

- Also Jean asking if Cody was safe

- When he looked at Jeremy after going to the salon and just said "blonde"

- Lucas is a fucking idiot, like not even bad, he's just stupid, I mean wtfdym BAD BREAKUP????

- "Drake was not a biter, then" MY MOUTH HAS NEVER DROPPED AS MUCH AS IN THIS SCENE

- And Neil immediately getting rid of the r*pist

- Glad to see Neil is still an absolute menace

- Anyway I can't wait for the second book, AO3 will be my bestie in the meantime

[letsgetrowdy43]

Moment of truth—

Nico Hischier x Angie Chandler

In which Angie tells her boys about her new found relationship with Nico

Warning: 18+ content/smut below the cut: nothing extremely explicit or intense, just really sweet and soft sex!! Definitely giving Munch!Nico!! Also, there is a plot and a little angst, but not too much and nothing too deep. If there's anything you think I left out, please lmk!!

Au Masterlist!!

Angie was practically vibrating in her car seat as she waited for Nico just outside the Detroit airport. Her hands absentmindedly white-knuckling the steering wheel with nerves as she waited for the man she hadn't seen in nearly two months.

She had been itching to get her lips on his for the past few weeks, the distance unbearable as the excitement of their trip crept up on them. And finally, it was time, they were to be reunited in just under fifteen minutes as she waited for him at the arrivals door, waiting for him to grab his luggage and gear before finally seeing each other again.

It wasn't hard convincing Jack to let her have a mysterious guest for the rest of the summer until she and the man would do a little road trip back to Jersey.

Jack was a bit clueless about the whole affair, despite a few near slips—texts he shouldn’t have seen, conversations he overheard when she snuck off to call Nico. But even with the hints, Jack hadn’t pieced together that the man on the other end of the line was Nico.

A gentle tap on the passenger seat window pulled her from her thoughts. There stood Nico in his tanned glory, dimples on display as she unbuckled and hopped out of the car to get her hands on the man she had been aching to see for weeks upon weeks.

She shoved her face into the crook of his neck as he pulled her flush against his chest.

"I missed you so much," she mumbled into his skin as his hands travelled up her back, gripping her shirt and the other cradling the back of her head before he pulled away to look at her. He quietly admired her freckled skin and the slight sunburn that blessed her cheeks before he laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

She melted into him as she felt his lips pull into a smile. The two of them attempted to fight off their grins in hopes of deepening the kiss, but their smiles were too wide as they both pulled away. Cheeks tinted pink as they stared at each other, laughter broke out as they came to realize how dramatic the two of them must look to the strangers passing by.

“I missed you too,” Nico chuckled, pulling her back into his chest. Angie buried her face in his shirt again, savouring the feeling of his arms around her. His cheek pressed against the top of her head, and they stood there momentarily, just soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence.

It wasn't long before they were both back in her car, a tired Nico to her right as she drove along the highway. He spent a while telling her all about training, how his mom was, and what Luca and Nina would be doing for the rest of the summer before he asked about her trip back to Dallas to visit her parents and brother, which had been good but nothing too exciting to report back about.

"So, I was thinking we just get the whole were dating thing out of the way today," she said shyly as she looked over to Nico, whose hand was intertwined with hers. "Whatever you're comfortable with," he shrugged, "if you're ready to tell them, then I am too."

Angie's eyes softened as she looked over to him, words of love danced on her tongue but dared not to leave her mouth as she brought his hand up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"You're perfect, did you know that?" She watched as his grin grew, "I try," he said smugly before her eyes returned to the road.

As she pulled into the driveway, a wave of nerves hit her. Telling Jack, Luke, and the rest of the boys about her relationship with Nico had seemed simple in theory, but now, as they were about to walk through that door and face the boys, the reality of it settled in. Angie squeezed Nico’s hand, drawing strength from his calm presence, and took a deep breath.

It was time to let the secret out.

“You ready?” Nico asked, his voice soft as he squeezed her hand gently. Angie nodded, her heart pounding in her chest, “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” she mumbled, leaning over to press a short kiss to his lips.

They stepped out of the car, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the yard. Nico grabbed his suitcase from the trunk, and together, they walked toward the front door. The sound of laughter drifted from inside the lakehouse, a reminder of the easygoing atmosphere they were about to disrupt.

Angie hesitated for a split second before opening the door, Jack and Quinn were in the living room, engrossed in some old footage of a devil's games on the big-screen TV. The clatter of the door closing behind them caught their attention, and both boys turned to look, expecting to see Angie returning from her trip to the airport.

“Hey, you’re back!” Jack called out, pausing the game, “How was the drive?” “Not too bad,” Angie replied, her voice a little higher than usual as Luke and a few of his college friends pilled into the living room along with some of Jack and Quinn's friends.

She stepped aside, revealing Nico standing just behind her, his dimples deepening as he smiled at the boys.

“Nico?” Luke said, surprise lighting up his features. “What are you doing here?” Angie's eye travelled over to Quinn, who was watching the whole encounter with a knowing look. Nico shrugged, trying to play it casually, “figured I’d crash your summer for a bit if that’s cool.”

Jack’s eyes widened in realization, his mind quickly connecting the dots, “wait, is Nico the ‘mysterious guest’ you mentioned?” Angie bit her lip, nodding as she looked between Jack and Quinn. “Yeah, he is. I, uh, I wanted to keep it a surprise.”

Jack got up to hug Nico, "No need to keep it a surprise, of course, we want him here!" Luke's brows slowly began to furrow as he watched Angie's face, a look of nerves on her expression as Jack and Nico dapped each other up.

Oblivious to the growing awkwardness, Jack continued speaking as he moved around the room. “Anyway, we’ll have to rearrange the sleeping situation. I thought Angie was inviting her boyfriend, so we didn’t prepare anything, but—” "You really don't have to!" Angie said, cheeks a deep red. Jack waved off her concern, scoffing at her suggestion, "I'm not making him sleep on the couch with Luca and Adam. We can figure something-" "No, Jack, we want to share a room," Angie finally spoke up as the room went silent.

Everything was tense for a second, the only one who looked unphased was Quinn, who had been quietly observing from the back of the room and struggled to suppress his laughter, knowing full well how this revelation was about to land. Meanwhile, the other boys stood wide-eyed, jaws dropped, processing what Angie had just said.

A loud laugh left Josh's mouth as he collapsed on the couch beside Quinn, which gained him a glare from Angie and a smack from Quinn.

Jack blinked, taking a second to register the statement. Then, to Angie’s surprise, he simply nodded and returned to the couch.

“Okay,” he said, with no further comment or outburst.

He picked up the remote and pressed play, resuming the game as if nothing had happened. Angie, still standing, watched him in disbelief, “You don’t have any questions?” she asked, trailing after him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jack shook his head, eyes fixed on the TV. “Nope,” he replied, completely tuning out the conversation.

"I have questions," Luke mumbled with his hand in the air as Nico grinned at him and shrugged at the tension that seemed to overtake the room. "We can talk about it later, Lu, I'm gonna bring Nico upstairs," she said with a little heartbreak in her voice as she turned to lead Nico out of the room.

She couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—relief that the secret was out, but also a bit of heartbreak at how nonchalantly it had been received. It wasn’t that she wanted a dramatic reaction, but she had hoped for a little more acknowledgment of what this meant for her and Nico.

The door to her bedroom shut behind them as Nico pulled her into his chest and crashed onto her soft mattress, ruining the freshly made bed she had done up for him. Nico’s lips found the frown that had settled on her face, kissing it away gently, then trailing down her neck in a series of soft, tender pecks.

Each kiss was a quiet reassurance, a wordless promise that everything was okay. His touch was soothing, a deliberate distraction from the worries that had been gnawing at her since they walked into the house.

"You okay," he mumbled against her skin as he laid down beside her, the jetlag slowly taking over as he looked at her with tired eyes. "It's fine," she shrugged and rolled on top of him to rest her head on his chest, her fingers drawing little circles onto his forearm as she held him closely.

Nico's hand ran down her back, pulling her closer as he spoke, "Don’t let it get to you. He'll come around, it’s just a lot to process.” Angie nodded, feeling a little foolish for letting it bother her so much. “I know. I just… wanted it to be more of a moment, you know?” Nico smiled as he brought her hand up to his lips to place a kiss on her wrist, “It is a moment. Our moment. And it doesn’t matter how anyone else reacts as long as we’re happy.”

Angie opened her eyes, meeting his gaze as her fingers gently ran over his bearded jaw. The sincerity in his eyes made her heart swell, and she felt a wave of affection wash over her. “You always know exactly what to say,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s my job,” Nico teased, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “now, let’s just enjoy this time together, okay? The rest will work itself out.”

Within a few moments, Nico’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing into the bed as sleep overtook him. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, her own eyes growing heavy as the comfort of his presence lulled her toward sleep.

★★★★

Luke gently knocked on the door and cracked it open, not looking inside at the half-awake couple who leaned against one another at the boy in the door with his eyes covered and facing away just in case. "Quinn and Dalton made dinner, yours is on the table"

Angie sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Nico as she rubbed her eyes of any remaining sleep. His hand instinctively tightened around her waist as she moved around on the bed, a sleepy mumble escaping his lips, but he didn’t fully wake up.

“Thanks, Luke,” she said softly, trying not to wake Nico. She could see Luke’s awkward stance at the door, hands covering his eyes like he expected to walk in on something.

She smiled at his awkwardness as she told him that he could look in the room, his face slightly red and embarrassed as he smiled at the sight of Angie wrapped up in Nico's hold. A little in awe of how natural they looked together, even in their tired states.

“Uhh, no problem,” Luke replied, “just wanted to make sure you both ate, Quinn doesn't want it to get cold before you come down.” “We’ll be down in a few,” she assured him, glancing back at Nico’s peaceful expression.

Luke nodded, backing out of the room quickly. Once the door clicked shut, Angie turned her attention back to Nico, who blinked awake, groggy but smiling up at her.

“Dinner’s ready,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as his brows furrowed with a dazed look. Nico stretched, his arms lazily wrapping as tight as possible around her, pulling her back down into his chest as he rolled over to secure her in place, “let’s skip it, I just want to stay here with you.” She laughed softly, resting her forehead against his. “We can’t hide up here forever. Come on, food will help with the jetlag.”

Nico groaned but reluctantly let her slip out of his hold, “fine, but only because Jack wasn't the one who cooked,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Angie smiled as she pulled her hair back into a loose bun, watching him slowly get to his feet and make his way to her side, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. Despite her lingering nerves about the reveal to Jack and the others, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, his hands squeezing the plush of her hips as he once again pressed a reassuring kiss to her neck.

Being with Nico made everything seem a little more manageable, and she couldn’t help but feel lucky to have him by her side.

"Ready?" she asked, extending her hand to him. Nico took it, lacing his fingers through hers as they headed downstairs together, ready to face the boys once more.

As they got down to the dining room, all the boys crowded around the table and yelled out in cheers at the sleepy-looking couple, who looked half awake and a little giddy at the newfound excitement.

Angie smiled as she maneuvered her way around the kitchen, Nico trailing close behind, hand in hers, as she led him around and helped get both of them plates of dinner.

The tension was still very palpable in the room, her eyes trailing over to Jack, who was staring at the two, silently watching before he gently shook his head and looked down at his plate.

Angie let out a soft huff, feeling the weight of Jack's silent stare. She knew he was processing everything, but the tension was still there, lingering in the air like a heavy cloud. Nico, ever attuned to her emotions, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he pulled her flush against his chest before he smoothly grabbed their plates from the counter and followed her to the table.

They sat down, and the conversation in the room resumed, though it was clear Jack's mood had shifted. Angie tried to focus on the food and the laughter of the other boys, but she couldn’t shake the unease that came with Jack’s quiet reaction.

Nico leaned in, his voice low and in her ear, “Give him some time, you know he’ll come around.” Angie nodded, grateful for Nico’s understanding, as she leaned into his frame. She glanced at Jack again, who was now pushing food around his plate, lost in thought.

Quinn, noticing the tension, spoke up, trying to diffuse the situation, “So, Nico, how long are you staying?” Quinn asked, his tone light and casual, steering the conversation into safer territory. Nico smiled, glancing at Angie before answering she plastered a smile on her face and watched as he interacted with the boys, “We've got a little before training camp, so I’ll be here for a week or so, and then she thought we’d do a little road trip after, maybe head back to Jersey.”

Luke, ever the instigator, chimed in with a grin. “A road trip, huh? Sounds like an adventure. You guys gonna let Jack and me tag along?” Angie laughed, shaking her head. “Sorry, Luke, I think this one’s just for us,” she reached over the table and ruffled his messy curls and flicking him in the forehead.

The table erupted in playful banter again, but Jack remained quiet, his silence louder than the conversation around them. As the meal wound down, Angie decided she couldn’t leave things unresolved with Jack. She stood, squeezing Nico’s shoulder, pressing a sneaky kiss to his jaw as a silent promise before walking over to Jack, who was still sitting at the table.

“Can we talk?” she asked softly. Jack looked up at her, his expression unreadable as gave her a look that resembled somewhat disinterest.

After a moment, he nodded and stood up from the table to follow her out onto the back porch, where the evening air was cool and quiet. Angie turned to face him, her hands fidgeting as she tried to find the right words. “I know this is a lot, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. But, Jack, I’m happy, he makes me happy.”

Jack leaned against the porch railing, not looking at her while running a hand through his hair, “I know he does,” he said quietly as he finally looked at her for a second, her eyes kinda glossed over as she waited for any sign of forgiveness.

"I'm tired, Ange," he said, shutting down the conversation before it had even started, her eyes full of hurt as she leaned against the railing next to him, "let's save this for the morning."

She nodded shortly, her eyes welling with tears as she let him return to the boys, taking a deep breath, she rubbed her eyes and slowly made her way back into the house. Everyone was still gathered around the table and living room, laughter and conversation continuing as if nothing had happened.

She spotted Luke sitting a little off to the side, quietly talking to one of his friends, he looked up at the girl, who looked visibly upset as she made her way over to him. Luke noticed her approaching and immediately gave her a knowing look, excusing himself from the conversation and patting the spot on the couch next to him.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes scanning her face with concern, "You okay?" Angie shook her head, “I tried talking to Jack,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“He just... shut me down. Told me he was tired and didn’t want to talk until the morning.” Luke frowned, his brows knitting together in concern, “what did you say to him?” “I told him how happy Nico makes me, that I’m sorry I didn’t tell him sooner.”

She sniffled, wiping her eyes quickly, embarrassment filling her face as she looked around to make sure no one was watching her emotional breakdown, “he barely looked at me." Luke sighed, leaning in closer to be quieter and crossing his arms, “Jack cares. A lot. You know how he is— he’s just not great with emotions, especially when it comes to big changes. This is probably a lot for him to process.” “I get that, but...” Angie’s voice cracked again, “It still hurts me, you know? I thought he’d at least try to understand.”

Luke nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her, arm now wrapping around her shoulders, “I know it does. But you’re like his sister, Ange, and Nico is his friend, so it's probably confusing. He’ll come around, it's not like we never noticed something was going on, he probably just thought you didn't reciprocate the feelings.”

Angie wiped another tear from her cheek, feeling a small wave of relief wash over her at Luke’s words as she leaned into his comforting side. For the first time ever, she could admit that Luke was being rational. Jack wasn’t one to handle change easily, especially when it involved someone he cared about so deeply. She just wished he would’ve given her a little more than silence.

“Thanks, Luke,” she said softly, managing a weak smile. “I just hate feeling like I’ve upset him.” Luke smiled back, reaching out to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You haven’t. Trust me. He's weird, you know that, he’ll come around," he poked her side as she grinned at him.

Angie nodded, feeling a little lighter as she took in Luke’s reassurance, watching his grin turn cheeky as she finally gave him a smile, “I hope so. I just don’t want things to be weird between us.” “They won’t be,” Luke assured her, “Once he’s had time to process, he’ll feel like such a dick. You two are close, that’s not going to change.”

"Thank you." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Just doing my job as the chill younger brother, I guess.” She laughed softly as she awkwardly hugged him from her spot on the couch, "Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

★★★★

Nico found himself sitting next to Quinn in the pool room after dinner, watching the others as they played a round, but the two sat in comfortable silence. Jack had retreated to his room, clearly needing space, and Angie was talking to Luke in the living room, so the air seemed thick with a mix of excitement and tension, but Nico couldn’t ignore the weight of his own thoughts.

Quinn, always observant, noticed Nico’s quiet demeanour and tilted his head toward the back porch, “need some air?” he asked. Nico nodded, appreciating the subtle invitation to talk before they stepped outside, the cool night breeze offering a much-needed reprieve from the crowded house.

For a few moments, they stood in silence, just listening to the rustling of the trees and the distant laughter inside.

Finally, Quinn broke the silence. “So… you and Angie.” He said it calmly, but there was a hint of something deeper in his voice, a protectiveness Nico had come to expect from the eldest Hughes brother. Angie Chandler was an honourary Hughes in the eyes of the brothers, which had been clear to anyone who witnessed the dynamic between the four of them.

“Yeah,” Nico replied with a small smile, glancing at Quinn, who looked pleased, “It’s been a while now. We just wanted to make sure it was the right time to tell everyone.” Quinn nodded, his hand in his pockets, and the other held a beer close to his chest as he looked at the gentle ripples on the water just in their backyard.

“I knew, Angie told me, Jack’s not the best at picking up on those things, but I saw it.” Nico chuckled softly. “Yeah, I figured she had said something to you, but Jack’s… Jack.” his voice grew more serious as he continued, “I know this is probably a lot to take in. Angie means a lot to me, and I want you to know that I’m serious about her.”

Quinn stayed quiet for a moment, processing Nico’s words, “She means a lot to all of us,” he finally said, pointing in the window at his brother but also to his friends, past teammates, and a found family that had been formed in the heart of Michigan and continued to grow, his tone steady but laced with concern.

“You make her happy, I can see that. But I also know how hard it’s been for her, you know?” Nico’s brow furrowed, sensing where Quinn was going with this. “I know she went through a lot before,” he said softly, thinking of all the conversations he and Angie had shared about her struggles. “And I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

Quinn’s gaze turned sharper, though not unkind, “I believe you. But you didn’t see her after she didn’t get drafted. She was in a rough place for a long time. It wasn’t just disappointment, it was like… she lost herself for a while.” His voice softened as he continued, “We were all worried about her. I don’t want to see her like that again.”

Nico’s heart tightened at Quinn’s words, understanding the depth of the concern behind them.

“I’ve heard about some of it,” he admitted, “she’s talked to me about how hard that time was for her. And trust me, Quinn, I’m not here to add to her pain. Angie’s strong, but she’s also been through more than most people realize. That’s part of why I love her.” Quinn’s eyes flickered with surprise at Nico’s honesty. The sincerity in his words seemed to reach him, and he gave a small nod of approval.

“I can see you’re good for her,” Quinn said quietly, “and she’s good for you, too. I’m not trying to scare you off. I just needed to know you understand what you’re getting into.” Nico let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, grateful for Quinn’s words. “I do. And I’m not going anywhere.” He paused, then added, “Angie… she brings out the best in me. I’m a better person when I’m with her. I think we balance each other in a way that makes sense.” Quinn nodded again, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit. “That’s what matters. As long as she’s happy, and you’re both good for each other… that’s all I care about.”

He leaned back against the porch railing, the tension between them easing, “I guess I’m just being overprotective. It’s hard not to be, after everything.” Nico smiled faintly, understanding exactly where Quinn was coming from, “I get it. You’re looking out for her, just like you always have. I would do the same for my sister.”

Quinn glanced at him, his lips twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “Well, then we are on the same page,” he muttered, the smallest trace of humour in his voice, “just… don’t mess this up.” “I won’t,” Nico said, his tone serious again. “I care about her too much to let that happen.” The eldest Hughes nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence again, the tension from earlier now replaced with a quiet understanding. Nico felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he had Quinn’s cautious but genuine approval.

★★★★

Later that night, after the house had quieted down and everyone had retreated to their rooms, Nico and Angie found themselves back in her room, the air between them buzzing with a mixture of emotions. The conversations with both Jack and Quinn had taken a toll on Angie, and Nico could sense the weight of the day still lingering in her tense shoulders.

Nico closed the door softly behind them, locking the rest of the world out. He stepped toward her, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her arm. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice gentle as his eyes searched hers for any sign of discomfort.

Angie turned toward him, her eyes filled with exhaustion and longing. “Yeah,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “It’s just been a long day.” She pouted slightly as he nodded along with her words. The doings of the day were emotionally draining, and that isn't even taking into consideration the flight he had taken just the night before to make his return to the States.

Nico wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and then one to the supple skin of her cheek. “I know,” he murmured, “but we’re here now. Just us.”

His words hung in the air, and Angie found herself relaxing in his embrace. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face, admiring the deep dimples that were poking at his cheeks as he smiled fondly at her, and finally. Landing on the soft curve of his lips. She rose up on her toes and kissed him softly, her lips lingering against his as a quiet sigh escaped her.

Nico responded with a gentle intensity, his hands sliding to her waist, pulling her even closer as he walked them further into the room and closer to the end of the bed. The kiss deepened as their bodies pressed together, the day’s tension melting away with each passing second. Angie’s fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands on the back of his neck as she lost herself in the feeling of him, the warmth of his body grounding her in the moment.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against hers as he whispered, “I love you, Ange.” His words were a quiet promise, filled with all the care and affection he felt for her. “I love you too, Nico,” she breathed, her voice soft but certain.

Without another word, he backed her up to the exact edge of the bed, his hands gently sliding down to the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly as his eyes met hers in a silent question. Angie nodded, giving him permission as she raised her arms, allowing him to pull the fabric over her head. "You're beautiful," he mumbled to himself as his hands found their way to her hips again, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against her skin as he kissed her once more, slower this time, savouring the moment before lowering her onto the mattress.

Angie’s fingers worked at the buttons of her shorts and then back up to pull his shirt over his head, her hands moving with a newfound urgency as she pulled the fabric over his head to give her a clear view of his broad shoulders and toned chest, letting it fall out of sight and out of mind. Their movements were fluid and unhurried, Nico laid down on the mattress beside her and flipped her over her to be on top.

Their bodies tangled together on the sheets, there was no more hesitation as she pressed a multitude of kisses to his stubble-covered jaw, never getting enough of the summer beard. A laugh left his lips as he pinched her side, which caused her to jump a little, her eyes a little hazy as she pulled away to let him examine her slightly bruised lips. Their touches became more deliberate as his thumb ran over her bottom lips to remind her of where she was before she leaned in once again to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

This moment had been one the two had been dreaming of since she left him in Switzerland a few months back. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she took in just how lucky she was to have him back in her arms and under her.

Nico’s hands roamed over her body, every touch sending sparks of warmth through her as she arched her back at the sensation of her hands on her skin, pulling him closer with each passing second.

"What do you need?"

Angie’s breath hitched as Nico’s quiet question washed over her, his hands still tracing the soft lines of her back. She bit her lip, her heart swelling with emotion, feeling the full weight of his affection and care. For a moment, she couldn’t speak—couldn’t quite find the words to express the overwhelming mix of love and relief she felt having him so close again.

This feeling of bliss was something she had been yearning for, and it all hit her at once how lucky she was to be loved by someone like Nico Hishcier.

"I need you," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with certainty as her hands ran over the slightly sweaty skin of his shoulders, "just you."

Her tears had slowed, but the emotion still welled up inside her, raw and real, as she raked her teeth over his skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to his collarbone before he flipped them over so he hovered over her. Nico gently wiped a stray tear from her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin tenderly as he gazed at her, his own eyes full of understanding.

He kissed her again, slowly, and it was as if time itself slowed to match the rhythm of the moment they were sharing. There was nothing rushed about their movements—just a shared intimacy that had been building for so long.

Both of them just relished in the feeling of the other, uncensored love that had been building up for the past few weeks.

Angie’s fingers traced the lines of his jaw, memorizing the familiar contours as if seeing them for the first time again. Nico’s body responded to her in kind, his hands exploring her skin as if reassuring her that this moment was real.

His whispered reassurances—his soft, almost breathless declarations of love—filled the quiet room, surrounding her like a protective blanket as he unclipped her bra and pressed gentle kisses to her exposed breasts. Grinning up at her at every noise that dared leave her lips.

He strategically pressed kisses down the plumpness of her breast, not being too afraid to tease her before the kisses dispersed down her abdomen. With each gentle kiss came a quiet gasp, her fingers roughly pulling at his hair for any sort of grounding that she could find before his lips travelled lower while whispering her name in between kisses.

Nico’s eyes met hers once more, dark with affection and need, and he hovered above her for just a second, his thumb tracing a line along her cheek. "You’re everything to me," he whispered, his voice husky yet filled with certainty as he got off the bed and kneeled at the edge, pulling her gently closer till one of her legs rested over his shoulder.

"What are you-" she propped herself up on her elbows, aching for his to be closer before she felt him nudge her back down and cut off her question to lay on her back before he gently bit into the skin of her tanned thigh. "Shh, just let me love you," he mumbled into her skin before his finger hooked around her lace panties and slowly removed them before licking a single strip up her core, eliciting a moan from her as she gave up any argument that remained on her tongue.

He smirked into her before continuing his movements, his hands moved higher, brushing against her hips as he pressed deeper until she interlocked one of hers with his, his soft groans vibrating against her skin, causing her to cry out in pleasure. His pace quickened his determination to make her come completely undone, clear in every calculated move as he focused on bringing her to the height of her orgasm.

Angie’s free hand flew to his hair, pulling at the strands as she felt the tension in her core tighten, her breath catching in her throat. "Nico," she whimpered, her voice breathless and needy.

He hummed in response, his free hand moved to pin her hips down to stop her restless movements as he pushed her further toward the brink. His name became a chant on her lips, a stream of pleas and praises danced on the tip of her tongue.

And then, as he pulled away slightly and continued making steady circles with his thumb, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling with release. Nico pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh, his smile wide and satisfied as he slowly made his way back up her body as she slowly came back to reality. He brushed a few strands of hair from her sweat-dampened forehead, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss that tasted of love and worship.

Angie, still breathless and trembling from the intensity of the moment, pulled him down into her arms, kissing him back with as much passion as she could muster. "You... are incredible," she murmured, her voice shaky but filled with admiration. Nico grinned, pressing his forehead to hers. "I just want to make you happy," he whispered. "You do," Angie replied, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw once more. "More than you know."

She sat up a little as he left the room to get her a cloth and some new clothes to replace the ones currently on the floor, "do you want anything in return?" she asked with wide eyes as she watched his dot after her. He shook his head gently as he returned from the bathroom and handed her a glass of water, "maybe just some sleep," he said coyly as she nodded. “Sleep sounds perfect,” she murmured, her voice soft and laced with gratitude.

She shifted in bed, pulling the fresh clothes he had brought her over her body with a sense of comfort that only Nico seemed to bring her. Nico climbed back into bed beside her, the quiet rustle of the sheets the only sound in the peaceful room as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they settled under the blankets.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest as her eyes began to flutter closed, “for everything." Nico pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Always, Ange. I’m not going anywhere.”

★★★★

The soft morning filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over Angie's face, which caused her to slowly stir awake, still tucked against Nico’s side. She blinked a few times, the warmth of his body next to hers reminding her of the night before as her hand softly splayed over his chest before she pressed a kiss to his skin.

Nico stretched beside her, his arm lazily draping over her waist as he blinked at her with a sleepy smile. "Morning," he whispered, his voice thick with sleep. "Morning," Angie replied, smiling back at him.

"I’m going to make breakfast. You want to help?" she sat up slowly and shivered at the loss of warmth from his skin. Nico grinned, sitting up beside her and running a hand through his bed head, "of course."

They made their way to the surprisingly clean kitchen together, the house still quiet, with everyone else still asleep after the night of drinking most of them had done. Angie moved around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients while Nico stayed close, helping her with anything she needed.

She quietly hummed and danced around the kitchen, Nico quietly watching her in awe as she swayed her hips to the music in her head, grinning widely as she caught his stare and grew bashful at his loving attention. As they continued to move around the kitchen, Nico’s hand would occasionally brush against hers, and they’d exchange small, playful smiles, completely wrapped up in their own little world.

From the stairs, Jack watched them.

His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the two of them and how naturally they interacted with one another. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all—their closeness, the way Angie smiled around Nico, how Nico looked at her like she was the only person in the room.

It was almost offputting to see, especially knowing that he hadn't suspected a thing.

Angie caught sight of Jack out of the corner of her eye as she flipped a pancake. She tensed for a moment but tried to focus on finishing breakfast. Jack didn’t move, but his stare felt heavy, and Angie could feel the tension building in the room again.

Once Nico stepped away to grab a plate from the other side of the kitchen, Jack took his chance. He walked down the stairs, his footsteps heavy as he approached Angie.

"Morning, Jack," she greeted him warmly, wiping her hands on a towel. "Want some breakfast?" He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flickering from the food to her before he cleared his throat, "actually… can we talk for a second?"

Angie paused, her brow furrowing slightly in concern as she set the towel down and wiped any remaining wetness from her palms on her pyjama pants, "yeah, of course." She glanced around to make sure no one else was around before following him to the boot room just off the kitchen, where they could have a little more privacy.

Jack leaned against the wall, arms crossed, but his posture was more thoughtful than defensive. Angie stood across from him, waiting patiently, sensing he was trying to figure out how to start.

After a few seconds, Jack finally spoke. "Look, I’m really happy for you and Nico," he began, his voice steady but a little hesitant. "But… I’m also kind of worried. About us." Angie blinked in surprise, but she didn’t interrupt, letting him continue.

"You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember," Jack went on, his blue eyes meeting hers, "you get me better than anyone else. And I guess… I’m scared that now that you’re with Nico, things are gonna change between us." He gave a small, almost self-deprecating laugh, but there was a seriousness in his words. "And… what if things don’t work out with you and him? I know how these things can go, and if it does, I’m gonna have to pick sides. And you know I’m always gonna choose you, Ange. Every time."

Angie felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to him. She hadn’t fully realized how much Jack had been holding in, they had been through nearly everuthing togetehr in the past seven years, and the thought that a relationship would cost them this closeness was enough to make her cry.

She stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, "Jack," she started softly, her voice full of emotion, "nothing is going to change between us. You are my best friend, and you always will be. Nico or no Nico." She gave his arm a gentle squeeze, "I’m always going to be here for you, and I’m not going anywhere. I can love Nico and still be your best friend."

Jack looked down at her hand, then back up to her face, his expression softening a little.

"And as for the other stuff," Angie continued, "I get it. I get why you're worried. But Nico and I… we’re really good together. I’m not saying it’s perfect, but we’re happy. And even if something were to happen… you wouldn’t have to choose sides. It wouldn’t be like that." Jack uncrossed his arms, running a hand through his messy hair with a sigh. "I just don’t want to lose you again, Ange, especially if it's because of a boy." "You won’t," she promised, her voice firm. "Not now, not ever."

There was a beat of silence between them before Jack finally nodded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Okay," he said quietly, "Good."

Jack quietly peaked his head around the corner of the room to the kitchen, laughing at the awkwardness of Nico as he stood in the kitchen, aimlessly waiting for Angie to return and eat with him.

"cap looks a little lost in there without you," he said smugly as she smiled, cheeks a pink colour as she peaked around the corner to see exactly what he had seen. "Be ready, you would all be lost without me," she laughed and patted his shoulder while looking back at her best friend.

His face softened as he looked back at her, the edges of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, you’re probably right," Jack admitted, the tension between them dissolving into something more familiar, more comfortable. He reached out, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I guess we all need you more than we’d like to admit."

She looked at him with a pout at his moment of kind words before she pulled him in for a hug, "now go enjoy breakfast with him," she pulled away with a grin that soon dropped as he finished their emotional moment with a "and just an FYI, we share a wall," Jack said, smirking mischievously as he raised an eyebrow.

Angie's cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment, "Jack!" she hissed, giving him a shove as she hid her face in hands. He laughed, clearly enjoying her reaction, before throwing his hands up in mock surrender, "Just saying! Maybe keep the volume down next time."

She shook her head, trying to hide her mortification behind a smile, "You’re the worst." "Yeah, but I’m still your best friend," he shot back with a grin, already turning to head toward the dining room, "now, go make sure he doesn’t burn the eggs or something."

Angie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at her lips as she made her way back to Nico. She was still a little flustered from Jack’s teasing, but the warmth of his reassurance—and his relentless humor—had done wonders to calm her nerves.

As she entered the kitchen, Nico looked up, instantly sensing the shift in her mood. "Everything okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Yeah," she said, a soft laugh escaping her. "Just Jack being… well, Jack."

Nico chuckled, clearly familiar with Jack’s antics. "What did he say?" "He heard us last night," she whispered, her face a bright pink as she leaned into his shoulder, earning an amused grin from Nico. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her temple, “Noted."

And with that, they focused back on breakfast, the embarrassment withered away as she relaxed at the thought that for now everything was okay!

-

-

-

[artiststarme]

Where's The "Talk"?

Based on a prompt from @samcoxramblings. I hope this meets your expectations! Please leave your thoughts in the comments and if you have any more angsty prompts, send them my way!

~*~*~*~

After coming out to the Party, Eddie and Steve were on their toes for days just waiting for someone to give them the ‘Talk’. They were amped up, prepared to receive loads of various threats ranging in creativity and snipe. But the days came and went and no one mentioned anything. Anytime Eddie would mention expecting a shovel talk to protect their babysitter, the kids awkwardly looked between one another before changing the subject. When Steve mentioned to Robin and Nancy that no one had warned him against hurting Eddie yet, they just rolled their eyes and ignored him. Neither man knew what the Party was waiting for. 

After a week, Eddie loses his patience and asks the kids at their Hellfire session. “Okay guys, what gives? Where are the outlandish threats of violence, the creative insults about my character, the whole shabang? I’ve been on the edge of my seat for fucking days.”

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?” Dustin asked him, sounding puzzled. 

Eddie snorted a sound of frustration. “The shovel talk! Steve and I told you that we were dating a week ago and no one has said anything! Is this a gay thing? Are you too scared of being homophobic to say anything? I can take it!”

The kids looked uncomfortable but Mike spoke. “Look man, we just don’t want to waste our time. You and Steve aren’t going to last. I mean, look how different you guys are! You’re awesome, you DM for Hellfire, and you’re in a band. What does Steve do? He works at Family Video all day and sure, he looks kinda good without a shirt on, but he has nothing else going for him!”

Lucas and Dustin looked at him in confusion before Dustin cleared his throat. “Eddie, we know you’re not going to hurt each other. You’re both our big brothers and you’re not actually dating. Steve likes girls! I’m sure he’s just looking for a way to let you down easy. I’m sorry, man.”

Meanwhile, Eddie looked at them indifferently. He couldn’t believe that these little assholes would say that to him and at a DnD session no less! He whipped his head to look at the original Hellfire members only to find Gareth, Jeff, and Grant looking shellshocked. 

“Do you boys feel the same way?” He asked them, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

Jeff shook his head slightly, “no way, man. We just don’t know Steve well enough to give him a talk. You know we’ve always supported you, if you want us to threaten him a little, we can.”

“Yeah, we’ll threaten the socks off of him!” Grant nodded. Gareth though just continued glaring at the kids.

Eddie nodded, it seemed there was a division of true friends and posers around the table. If his little sheep didn’t want to believe he and Steve would last, he’d show them. He and Steve were for life. Eddie was like a parasite, a viral STD if you will. Once you got him, you were stuck with him forever.

“Well, thank you for sharing your opinion. Does anyone else feel that way?” He asked them. Did the rest of the Party share the same views? He desperately needed to know. 

Lucas nodded slowly, “well, yeah. Hopper says you guys are only seeing each other because you’re trauma-bonded and Robin said that it doesn’t mean anything anyways.”

Eddie chuckled sardonically. Oh so, the entire Party was against them? Fine, he didn’t need to be a part of the group that tore his life apart anyways. 

“Alright, Hellfire’s disbanded. Get your stuff and get out. Corroded Coffin, we’ll continue the campaign as a three-piece on Thursday before band practice. I’m going to go see Steve, the guy I’m in a relationship with. You know, the one that ‘doesn’t mean anything’ since we’re ‘too different’ and ‘trauma-bonded’ and ‘waiting to get let down easy’? Go fuck yourself and fuck your precious Party too.” And with that, Eddie stormed out. 

He drove straight to Family Video and was ashamed to find that frustrated tears had started leaking from his eyes. He couldn’t believe this. After all they’d gone through together with the Upside Down and psychic killers and murder accusations, being in a relationship with Steve was the tipping point? Absolutely ridiculous. He darted into the video store and didn’t even slow his stride as he threw his arms around Steve where he was talking to a customer. 

“What the- Eddie? Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked him before turning back to the customer. “I’m sorry, could you talk to Robin over at the counter please? Have a nice day.”

Steve gently herded him into the employee lounge and pressed his teary face into the crook of his neck. “Eds, hey, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I never should’ve said anything!”

“About what? What’s going on? Weren’t you supposed to be playing DnD today with the kids today?” Steve asked him. He wiped the tears from underneath Eddie’s eyes and rested a hand on the back of his neck for comfort.

“I asked the kids why we hadn’t gotten a shovel talk from anyone yet before we even started. They said that no one in the Party thinks we’re going to last. Hopper thinks we’re trauma-bonded, Mike doesn’t think we’re fucking compatible, Dustin thinks you’re faking it, and Robin thinks we’re not serious. They’re not interested in ‘wasting their time’ giving us a talk.”

Steve blinked in surprise before his face hardened. “We don’t need their acceptance or their approval. We know they’re wrong and that’s what matters. We don’t even need a talk from them. Fuck ‘em! We can give ourselves a shovel talk if our good-for-nothing-friends can’t do it!”

“Steve-” 

“I’m serious, who gives a shit about their opinions? Who are they to judge? Dustin’s dating a girl over the radio that lives in goddamn Utah or some shit. Lucas can’t judge because Max broke up with him again for like the tenth time this month. Mike’s only girlfriend was a girl he found in the woods that didn’t know any better than to date him. Robin’s never even been in a relationship so she can’t judge us for having one. And Hopper is 100% going to be in the doghouse after I tell Joyce about what he said. Fuck what they have to say.”

“But Stevie, how are we going to give one to ourselves? That doesn’t even make sense,” Eddie told him gently.

“Fine, then we’ll give one to each other. Eddie, if you break my heart, I’m going to give Wayne adoption papers and take your last name whether you want me to or not.”

Eddie sputtered, “what the fuck? What kind of talk is that? You’re supposed to threaten me with physical harm, not whatever mindfuckery that was!”

“Don’t belittle my shovel talk! Like you could do any better,” Steve scoffed at him.

“Oh yeah? Steve, if you break my heart then I’m going to break your kneecaps so you can’t leave until I win you back. And if I break your heart, I’m going to finish what the bats started.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie! Are you okay? That’s fucking violent!” Steve yelled.

“That’s the point!” Eddie screamed back.

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is, you’re supposed to threaten to hide the body with a shovel,” Eddie said like it was obvious. 

“Dingus, stop talking to Eddie and get back to work. We have a line,” Robin said exasperatedly, poking her head into the back room. 

“We’re giving each other shovel talks since you losers wouldn’t do it. You know, since this means something. I’ll be out when we’re done with that,” Steve told her bitchily. 

“Fuck off Buckley,” Eddie hissed venomously. Robin looked shocked at his mutiny but backed away regardless. 

Steve stared at the door for a moment but Eddie drew his attention back to himself with a whispered, “if you don’t hurt me, I’ll help you hide a body.”

Steve cackled and murmured back, “you already were accused of murder once, you need to stop being so violent!”

They continue to date until marriage is legalized in the state of Illinois, where they move shortly after they deliver their truly remarkable shovel talks. As payback, they get a marriage certificate at the courthouse and don’t invite anyone from the Party to act as witnesses. Instead, Uncle Wayne, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant surround them and hear the clerk declare them husbands. 

(Hopper and the rest of the Party find out at Christmas that year and everyone loses their shit in synchrony. They all learn a valuable lesson that day that Eddie Munson holds the meanest of grudges.)

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[minnimstar]

°You and Me°

pairing: Lee Minho x fem!reader

summary: You two had parted ways on.. not so great terms. Now, years later, you bumped into him. It had been so long since you both last saw eachother, but now that you've ran into eachother, a small part of you hopes you two can try again.

Masterlist

genre: fluff, angst, exes to lovers

warnings: arguing, mentions of cheating, foul language(not really), kissing, happy ending

Minho was.. different.

Most of the men you've dated in your life were either losers, or losers who thought they were better than everyone.

When Minho came into your life though, there was just something about him that pulled you in. Something gentle and warm, but also serious and strong.

When you two first met, you hit it off perfectly. It wasn't a surprise when you two started dating. The both of you were happy together, or.. atleast you thought you were.

Your relationship came crashing down over a stupid misunderstanding. A girl had shown Minho a picture of what looked like you kissing another man, but the photo was blurry and and he was already stressed with work.

You remembered that night like it was yesterday. The arguing, the yelling, the betrayal, the heartbreak.. it still felt fresh. The man who you had trusted and loved with your whole heart walked out on you, believing some random girl over you. His girlfriend.

Now, years later, you've finally began trying to move on.

You were out at a somewhat fancy restaurant, waiting for your date to show up. You've been seeing this guy for a few months, but much to your luck, he was a jackass.

The table was set up neatly with a candle lit in the center, soft jazz music playing in the background. You were never really a fan of jazz, but it wasn't typically something you made known.

As you checked your phone for the time, it said 8:26.

Great, you thought to yourself. I really got stood up by this guy.

The guy you were waiting for, who's name was Lucas, should've been here forty five minutes ago. You knew how he was, but you really didn't think he'd stoop so low.

You scoffed and shook your head, opening your phone to send him a message, when your eyes caught on someone familiar.

Too familiar..

As you looked up, your heart dropped to see someone you never thought you'd see again. It was Minho..

You were about to look away, when he suddenly made eye contact with you. He caught you looking.

As you mentally scolded yourself, you didn't realize he was already making his way over to you until he sat down in the chair across from you that Lucas should've been in.

"Well, I didn't think I'd see you again.. let alone somewhere like this place."

Your head quickly shot up, eyes wide for a moment before you scowled.

"What do you want, Minho?"

Minho scoffed and looked in the other direction before turning back to you.

"What, I can't say hello to an old friend?"

"No, actually, you can not. You're the one who walked out on me." You retorted.

Minho's eyebrows raised in anger, and he stared at you in disbelief.

"Me? Walked out on you? Are you hearing yourself right now?! You're the one who cheated on me!" He responded.

It hadn't even been five minutes and things were already starting to get heated between you two.

"I didn't cheat on you!"

"Yes, you did. I saw the picture."

"That wasn't me in the picture!" You argued.

Minho fell silent at that, and he just stared at you for a moment and blinked a few times before responding.

"What do you mean, that wasn't you..?" He asked.

You groaned in annoyance and glared at Minho as you spoke.

"The photo. That wasn't me in it."

"Are you serious?" His voice was surprisingly soft, but you tried your best not to let it get to you.

"Of course I am! It wasn't me in that picture, and I don't know why you believed that girl over me."

Minho slumped in the chair he was sitting in and rubbed his face, then looked back up at you.

"I.. I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Y/N." He said apologetically.

For the first time in a long while, you felt.. stunned.

You didn't think your night was going to end like this, and you definitely didn't think you were going to get stood up and reconcile with your ex in the same night.

As you looked at Minho, you couldn't deny the longing you felt for him anymore. As much as you hated to say it, you wanted him back. You wanted to be with him again.

You were about to speak, when Minho beat you to it, as if already knowing what you were planning on saying.

"Look, I.. I know you probably hate me for leaving you like that all those years ago, and I wouldn't blame you," he paused, trying to gather his thoughts before continuing.

"Do you think that.. you'd maybe want to try again? From the beginning."

You just stared at him, silently debating if you should give into your feelings or finally get up and leave like you should've done before he came over, but you decided to go with the former.

"I'd.. like that." You admitted.

Minho's eyes lit up, but then you said something else.

"As long as you promise not to leave like that again." You said, only half joking.

Minho chuckled and nodded, then hesitantly reached over the table and grabbed your hand.

"I promise."

After having a drink at the bar in the restaurant and heading out, you were both walking in the parking lot to your car when Lucas finally showed up.

When he noticed you with Minho, who he didn't know, he was visibly pissed.

"Hey, what the hell?!" He exclaimed angrily.

Your conversation with Minho stopped once you heard Lucas, and you turned over to look at him, rolling your eyes.

"What are you so angry for? You stood me up!"

Lucas scoffed, walking over to you and getting in your space.

"Well I'm here now, aren't I?" He said as he leaned even closer.

Before you could respond or do anything, Minho quickly got in between you two and shoved Lucas away.

"Hey, back off, man."

Lucas looked like he wanted to say something, but instead just scowled and turned back to you.

"I don't know why I wasted my time with a stupid bitch like you." He snarled, then walked away back to his car and sped off.

You were a bit hurt by his words, but you knew he was only lashing out in a fit of anger so you just shrugged it off.

Minho turned back to you, concern evident on his face.

"Hey, you okay? That guy was quite a dick."

You laughed softly and nodded, feeling a little flustered by Minho's worry.

"Yeah, it's alright. Don't worry about it." You reassured.

He nodded, and continued walking you to your car. Once you got there, you reached for the door handle on the drivers side before Minho placed a hand on yours.

"Hey.. thanks for giving me a second chance, Y/N."

You looked back at Minho, and after a moment, you smiled.

"Uh, you're welcome, I guess. I won't lie.. I still love you, anyway."

Minho paused as he looked at you, then did something you didn't expect. He moved his hand from yours to your cheek, and scanned your face before leaning in and placing his lips over yours in a soft kiss.

You didn't hesitate to reciprocate the kiss, and it was only then you truly realized how much you missed this.. missed him.

After a moment or two, he pulled away before things could get too heated.

"I love you too.. I always have." He confessed.

Before he could react, you quickly leaned back in for another kiss.

This time, it was a bit more desperate, as Minho's hands grasped onto your hips and gently pinned you against your car.

You desperately wanted the kiss to continue, but you knew you had to get home before it got too late in the night.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You said quietly.

Minho nodded, a small smile on his face as he slowly pulled away.

"Yeah.. I'll see you tomorrow." He agreed.

He looked at you on last time, then quickly leaned in and pecked your lips before heading to his car.

Your heart finally felt at peace, after all these years. The situation probably wasn't ideal, but this was part of your life story, and for that, you were happy to finally be with the one you truly love.

[kagecreep]

Til Death (VxMC)

(Killer Chat)

Description: (Spoilers for KC) Accosted constantly by the police, V has little choice but to go into hiding. You want to go with him. A wedding seems the appropriate way to go.

Notes: plotted by some friends on rosesrot's server (:< a lot of fluff and humour of the slaughterhouse losers gathered together IRL WC: 3k

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Despite being a spur-of-the-moment decision, you had never been more sure about anything else in your life. You made the plans quickly; somehow, everyone in the server was able to attend. Misaki happened to have a hit in your town and would be there for a decent duration of time; both Vince and Angel were free for the weekend, and Ronin––well, Ronin was hardly ever busy anyway. Getting Felicie and Luca to come was a little more difficult, but you managed it through some convincing, and an offer for them to stay free of charge at your house for their trip.

The two of you had chosen a prime spot, secluded away from society deep within the woods. It was close enough to his home that it wouldn't take long to return, but far enough away that, those who didn't already know where he lived, wouldn't be able to find it. An abandoned cabin perhaps wasn't the most romantic spot to hold a wedding; Ronin found it absurdly amusing. You didn't care. The forest surrounding you was in its' early bloom, the cool vestiges of winter clinging to the buds of spring.

Recently given to the woods, the structure had yet to grow dilapidated, with the insides still well-preserved from the elements. Vines and thorned leaves had just barely begun to crawl up the edges of the outer walls. With a little sweeping and dusting, preceded by a little breaking-and-entering, it was a suitable place for you and V to dress in your respective outfits.

Valentin, as much as he proclaimed to be happy, had the most miserable look on his face.

"Y'know, traditionally, the bride n' groom aren't supposed to see each other before the ceremony," Ronin drawled from the next room.

"No one said anything about this being a 'traditional' wedding, Ronin," said Angel, her voice quieter and more muffled from the wall between you. 

"Indeed. This is quite an untraditional ceremony, in fact," said Vince.

"Pff. You guys are no fun. Personally, I'd love to get them apart. Dig into their little brains on this 'special day'," Ronin said, and you could imagine his pouting lips at the end.

Then came his voice––clear and deep, like low pipe organs echoing in an empty church.

"Why do you bother yourself with listening to them?" Valentin asked.

You turned around from the wall, facing V, who was looking at himself in a large, floor-length mirror. His suit, like everything else about him, was well-manicured and fit precisely for him. The black of his coat was a rich shade and accentuated his waist and shoulders, while his trousers fit perfectly around his hips, and cut off just above his ankles. Just over his shoulder you could spy his face in the mirror, and the way he fixed his bowtie with long, nimble fingers.

"I'm curious," you said. "Ronin seems to be rather critical of the whole ordeal."

"He would be," V growled. 

He pulled one end of the bow too tight, and set the whole thing off balance. He groaned, arms falling to his sides in a show of exasperation.

"Let me help," you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He turned round and his expression softened, a quiet smile appearing as he warmed himself on your glowing face. You smiled in return and set to work correcting his tie.

"It's very nice of you to let everyone attend," you said.

"I didn't let them. They all invited themselves."

"Well, you allowed it to happen anyway," you chuckled.

"I cannot believe that... abomination walking in human skin is going to be the best man for my wedding," V seethed. "Not to say he will be in the same area as you. I loathe the mere idea. If my wish were truth the two of you would never meet."

"If that were so, I wouldn't meet you either," you pointed out. "And besides, Ronin is the closest thing you have to a friend."

"Ronin is a criminal and a pollution upon the earth. To consider him a friend is to consider my life a failure."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"I wouldn't worry about it. I said he's the closest thing you have to a friend, not that he is your friend," you said.

"Regardless, it isn't an accurate statement. You should know better. You are my friend. My... 'best friend', as they say," he said softly.

You smiled up at him, finished with fixing his bowtie.

"You're my best friend, too," you said.

Even now on the verge of a marital ceremony, he blushed at your words, his face blooming into a warm colour.

"I am pleased we can agree on that," he said with a smile.

The final touches of Valentin's outfit were ones you insisted on. He had, at first, assented to them, but upon realizing that Ronin would be attending, quickly rescinded his agreement. It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to accept once more.

He sat, facing you, as you placed flowers along his braids, tucking the stems in so only the petals showed. Atop his head you styled a garden, filled with rosebuds and blooming white daisies. Rows of white, gold, and crimson.

When you finished, he looked properly fantastical––as though he had stepped out of a dream, glowing in the rays of sunlight stretching through the dusty windows. He spun in front of the mirror, checking each piece of his suit, flattening his lapels before puffing out his chest. As traditional as his outfit was compared to yours, you couldn't help but stare enamoured at him.

He turned to you with a smile, his hands folded neatly behind his back.

"Are you ready, my love?" He asked, tilting his head toward you.

"Ready as ever," you breathed out, grinning.

"Very well. Luca will come for you when we are ready. I shall go now, and... see to things. Try not to listen into our conversations, alright?"

You chuckled and nodded.

"I'll do my best," you said. 

The door hinges creaked and the wood groaned as he opened and shut the door behind him. The silence he left you in was near deafening. 

When you were young, you had imagined your wedding and who your partner would be. Out of all the different variations your mind had supplied you with, you had never pictured getting married to a vigilante serial killer in an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. You supposed life was funny like that. Still, you wouldn't want it any other way; your marriage would be as strange as you were, so you considered it a fitting end.

A few minutes later, Luca knocked at the door, and with your permission locked arms with you.

"Ready for your big day?" He asked, wiggling his brows.

"I'm dressed, aren't I?" You chuckled.

"Yeah. You look great, by the way. Can't believe you're getting married before me and Felicie," he said.

"You did say you wanted to take things slowly," you pointed out.

"Yeah, but not so slow that you and V, who got together after us, may I point out, would get married before us," he joked.

"Such is life, my friend," you laughed. "Now are you going to walk me down the aisle or not?"

"Of course. Jus' had to get a few of my thoughts in first."

"Of course."

You smiled and the door opened, revealing the green meadow just beyond the cabin, where all your friends stood in waiting. At the end, beneath an archway entwined with vines and flowers, stood Valentin in his suit, his hands folded in front of him and a soft smile beaming in his eyes. Standing at his side was Ronin, smug as ever in fitting attire. Angel, Felicie, and Misaki, the maids of honor (and wrath, as Misaki requested they be referred as) stood on the other side of the arch. In the center was Vince––still hiding his identity behind a mask.

Angel pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, and music began to play. Some quiet piano piece. Something V had likely picked out. Luca took you down the faux aisle of flowers, and upon delivering you to the altar, took his place standing beside Ronin.

You stared up at Valentin, heart pounding, and took his hands. For a moment the world seemed to fade into the early sunset, veins of gold and red speckled through the forest leaves like freckles on his face.

"Dearly beloved friends," Vince began, his voice uncharacteristically deep and rough for the speech, "we are gathered here, for the first time, to celebrate the union of two of our... slaughterhouse losers. It is a joyous occasion and I am honoured to be officiating. While this may, in some way, be a marriage of convenience, we have all watched the love grow between V and (Y/N) over the last few months. I am sure they will have many happy, bloody days ahead of them."

Valentin pursed his lips in irritation, but said nothing. You giggled.

"Now we will listen to their vows, which I know will be as titillating as they are romantic. You may proceed."

V sighed roughly, straightening his jacket subtly.

"I do not wish to speak my vows aloud in front of the present company. However... in the interest of ceremony..." he groaned, pursing his lips again, "... I will say... something."

You gave a small nod, gently urging him on.

"... I... love you, (Y/N)," he said as though it was painful. 

Behind him, Ronin was positively beaming.

"This, to me, is no marriage of convenience. I fully intend on pledging my life and soul to you." He paused. "That is all."

Quiet giggles sounded from behind you.

"Ever the romantic," you said, earning only more laughter from your friends. "Indeed, we are surrounded by people whose names we do not fully know. Who do not know our names, either. And, indeed, this ceremony was hurried. For that we have the police and their idiotic search to thank. But... it is brought forth by your kindness, V. You spared the server––people you claimed to hate––and sacrificed yourself to this. I hope that my presence with you as you go into hiding is solace––some consolation in return for your act of selflessness. Each day in your presence is a gift. I look forward to our many years together as I do each second that I am able to stand with you, in peace, content to know the sensation of true love. That is to say... I pledge my life and soul to you, too."

In the presence of the server members, V kept his composure quite well––but the shine in his eyes, apparent only to you, gave away the loving turmoil within. He slipped a pale golden ring over your finger––you settled a diamond-embedded ring over his. You barely processed Vince's final words before the two of you came together, soft touch upon softer lips, spirit intermingling with body as you kissed. He pulled you in, passion brimming at his fingertips but never released. You kissed and pulled away, and stared into one another. Therein was your home.

A crackling gunshot bolted through the air and you jumped, hand whizzing up to grip V's upper arm.

"What the fuck?!" Misaki yelped.

"Ronin!" Angel yelled, fists at her side.

"What?" He said, still holding a smoking gun pointed towards the sky. "'S a shotgun wedding, ain't it?"

"Technically speaking, a shotgun wedding occurs when the bride is pregnant before marriage, and the bride's father threatens the groom with a gun to marry the pregnant daughter," Vince said.

Ronin shrugged.

"Close enough," he said.

"Not close enough," Angel said, storming over and yanking the gun out of his hand. "Don't pull any more bullshit or I'll shoot you in the foot."

"Pff. I don't have anything else planned. Besides, I think it made the day more... special," he said, smiling at you.

V held you tighter.

"The sun has almost set. Now is the time to throw your bouquet," Vince said.

"Oh, right," you mumbled.

You turned, taking the bouquet of flowers from Angel. It was a smattering of wildflowers and exotic flowers V grew in his bunker, creating a palette of dark green leaves and pale purple, white, and blue petals.

Misaki, Angel, and Felicie excitedly gathered behind you. 

"Ready?" You asked, grinning all the while.

"We are ready!" Felicie said.

With that you threw the bundle of flowers behind you, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of a more blind throw. A few gasps sounded around you. When you opened your eyes, you found the bouquet stuck in the branches above you. Your eyes widened. Then, with a gentle breeze, the branches stirred and dropped the bouquet. It fell through the air and landed directly on Luca's face, falling into his arms as he spluttered from the pine needles and leaves.

Silence settled over the entire gathering for several seconds before everyone devolved into laughter, Ronin's cackling sounding about it all.

"Oh my God," Luca said, spitting out the last pine needle. 

"Ha!" You laughed, "looks like you'll be getting married after all, Luca."

"No," he said, "looks like Felicie will be getting married."

With a dramatic swoop of his arms, he knelt down in front of Felicie, and with faux tears in his eyes offered the bouquet to her.

"For you, my dearest beloved," he said, clutching his heart.

"I hate you," Felicie said in a pained voice.

"You love me."

"You wish."

You watched them bicker with much delight, returning to lean against Valentin's sturdy frame. His arm wrapped around and settled his hand on your waist–-a comforting warmth in the cool of the coming evening.

The rest of the evening was spent around a fire eating less than lavish food, the former courtesy of Ronin and V's teamwork, and the latter supplied by Misaki and Angel. You considered going to a restaurant for the last time before going into hiding, but all of you together was a mite suspicious, especially considering Vince's reluctance in taking off his mask. V mostly kept quiet and stayed dutifully at your side, socializing little and eating even less. At times a snide remark would slip out of his lips and delight the surrounding company. Such moments were especially entertaining for Ronin, who took a special joy in teasing V. Otherwise, you enjoyed your last day of socialization, imprinting each moment into your memory for safekeeping. It was likely the last time all of you would gather together.

In the end, they all parted in separate directions. Only when the last of them had gone did V deem it safe to return home, carrying you bridal style to his car. The drive was short enough, and he decided to carry you further into your now-shared home, only setting you down when he reached the couch. He quietly locked the door before returning to you.

Some of the flowers had fallen out of his hair, but the majority of them remained, partly wilted but still bright in colour. For a little while the two of you sat in silence staring at each other.

Then he broke the spell, gaze falling to his lap as he spoke.

"I, um... I did prepare my true vows. I just... did not wish to speak them in the company of serial killers," he said quietly.

"I understand," you chuckled. "You want to say them now?"

"If you are not too tired, I would like to, yes," he said.

You nodded. He gave a curt nod in return, and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket. His eyes flickered from the paper to you, and he cleared his throat, nerves ringing in the silence.

He began.

"My dearest love... there are a great many evils in this world. Each person one meets carries this within them––the mark of failed morality, and we are, each of us, in some way tainted by our decisions. Long ago I lost hope for humanity. We are an animal species, untamed by our supposed society. Feral despite our religion, our understanding; and our connection to both divinity and impiety, our free will to choose, has proven without fail that given the opportunity, humans will choose to fall. Why this is I cannot say. It is only what I know to be true." 

He paused, glancing up to make sure you were still paying attention. 

You were. He continued. 

"Just as all creatures do, you, too, have faced such decisions; the choice between goodness and cruelty, oppression and kindness. Just as all creatures have, you have experienced cruelty against you––injustice and wickedness from the blackened hearts of humanity. It is all too easy to mirror such actions when they are done unto you. Yet despite that you have chosen kindness, even when it is more facile to turn to brutality. Trust when it is more comfortable to doubt. And... love, when it is easier to abandon."

He reached out, fingers barely touching your hand. You reached the rest of the way and held his hand in yours. He swallowed thickly.

"It is an odd phrase to thank you for loving me. Still, it feels appropriate. I am not an easy man to love. I scantly admit it but I am, indeed, a killer––even with my just reasonings and my logic, I have committed myself to a lifestyle that has marked me both an outcast and a criminal to common society. I long ago gave up the ideal of having a beloved. Such is the cost of justice." He set the paper down and looked you in the eyes, taking your other hand in his. "You are my revelation. My salvation. You are some divine gift, some salve to my poisoned way whose justice comes at the price of my life. But no longer. You are my life, now. Above all it is my duty to protect you. As the ribcage protects the heart, I will shelter you from harm. As compassion safeguards life, so shall I keep you. A beacon of hope. Hope that... perhaps... humanity is salvageable. That my bitter contempt was wrong. It is my wish thusly to be with you, as long as you will have me, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part––till we meet again in our next life, to love one another once more."

You could barely breathe. As you expected, his vows were long, the words meandering. He often spoke like that when it met his fancy. But the sincerity behind it, coupled with the shining, stray tears brimming his eyes––it broke you down into your purest parts, shattered about the floor till only the glowing soul remained seated in his hands.

You wrapped him in your arms and did not let go.

[scrollonso]

Ride, Cowboy — Marcmarc

Pecco's bachelor party was in full swing, and the academy boys were set on making it a night to remember. They had chosen a popular country-themed bar for the occasion, its rustic decor and vibrant atmosphere setting the perfect stage for one final evening of freedom. The bar was adorned with wooden tables, vintage signs, and checkered tablecloths. A live band played upbeat country music, their melodies mixing with the hum of conversations and clinking glasses. The centerpiece of the night was the mechanical bull, positioned prominently in the center of the room, promising both challenge and entertainment.

Pecco, dressed in casual attire that subtly hinted at his upcoming marriage, was surrounded by his closest friends — Vale, Marco, Luca, Franky, Cele, and Mig. The guys were in high spirits, their laughter filling the room as they enjoyed shots and swapped stories. Racing was momentarily forgotten as they indulged in playful banter and reminisced about past adventures. Even Pecco, who usually preferred a more low-key presence in such settings, was swept up in the energy of the night.

As they navigated through the crowd, the music shifted to a heavier beat, drawing their attention to the mechanical bull as the lights dimmed. A group of incredibly attractive girls had taken over the area, each one more stunning than the last. They were taking turns on the bull, their laughter and cheers creating an infectious buzz throughout the bar. The guys couldn’t help but watch, half-impressed, half-entertained by the scene.

“Dio mio,” Luca muttered, his eyes widening in admiration. “They’re amazing!”

Vale, ever the responsible older brother, gave Luca a playful slap on the back of the head. “You’re married, Luca! Keep your eyes where they belong.”

Luca quickly apologized, his face reddening as he assured his brother he was just appreciating the spectacle.

Marco, grinning, elbowed Pecco. “You sure you’re ready to settle down? Because it looks like we’ve got some serious competition here.”

Pecco chuckled, shaking his head. “No way, man. Domi’s the only girl for me. But... I can appreciate the view.”

The group erupted in laughter as one of the girls — a tall blonde with a dazzling smile — took her turn on the bull. She managed to stay on longer than anyone else, her skill and confidence drawing cheers from the crowd. The boys exchanged glances, silently daring each other to give it a try.

“Alright, Pecco,” Franky said, nudging him toward the bull. “Last night of freedom — let’s see what you’ve got!”

“Yeah, show us how a pro rider handles a bull,” Cele added with a smirk.

Pecco raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing as he shook his head. “I’m not getting thrown off that thing tonight. But if you guys want to make fools of yourselves, be my guest!”

And then he took the stage.

Stole the show.

And then this absolutely gorgeous man jumped into the ring and easily swung himself up on the bull. Marco couldn’t see a whole lot of details from this far, but what he could see definitely woke the beast in him.

The man was fit, legs deliciously bowed as if he was made to ride a bull or a horse. The man was a cowboy, and Marco's childhood fantasies of the cowboys in old western movies came flooding back.

The man gripped the handle on the bull with his left hand, muscles bulging enough for even Marco to see. He pressed his heels against the sides of the bull, scooting forward in the saddle, and held up his right hand, arm in the shape of an L. He took a deep breath, sagged down in the saddle as he breathed out, and nodded to the person operating the bull for the group.

And rode for an astonishing 12.72 seconds. It had to be a sign.

His movements were completely fluid, he was one with the bull, there was no doubt about it and Marco found himself completely entranced. He couldn’t honestly say that his jaw didn’t drop because he could focus on nothing but this Adonis of a man riding the shit out of that bull, his movements flawless.

Marco had no idea what the group was speaking about anymore, all he knew was he wanted to be that bull. He needed to be that bull. His whole body flushed hot, his dick taking an abnormal amount of interest in the whole thing, and his brain demanding that he march down there and claim the man.

He rode the whole time with a cocky grin on his lips, eyes trained on the back of the bull’s head, and just as the clock signaled twelve seconds, the man changed his body position and tumbled gracefully off the bull in the next moment, seemingly by his own choice, rather than being flung off like all the others had been.

Marco was on his way over to the man before he had even made a conscious decision about it, his scotch abandoned precariously on the table he'd reserved for the party.

He slowed his steps as he was closing in on the crowd around the mechanical bull, pacing himself as if approaching a business proposal. Hell, he didn’t even know if the man was interested in sleeping with men and Marco recognized how it could be a sensitive topic, so he wanted to approach this in a suitable fashion. But on the other hand, he had never been this aroused from just watching someone before. He could only hope it wasn’t noticeable, on his face or otherwise.

The group of people had grown since Marco first started watching them, and even though they all congratulated the man on his excellent time, it was clear that most of them were strangers. There was a small group that seemed to be the man’s friends, though, and Marco came upon them just as the man was walking over, grinning widely.

How unfair, Marco thought, that the man was so stunning and not his.

“That was great, Marc,” a young man with long, brown hair was saying just as Marco walked up to them, clapping the man on his shoulder.

Marc. What an appropriate name, Spanish from the sound of the groups accents. What a good cowboy name.

“Not my best,” the man — Marc — answered in a tone that suggested he was trying to be modest. “But definitely best so far tonight.”

So he was competitive, this Marc. Marco liked that in a man. Liked it even more when competitive men bent over for him, not because they thought they had to but because they desperately wanted to. Oh, just the thought of having Marc turn into putty in Marco's hands made him hot all over again.

Also, competitiveness was one of the most easily manipulated personality traits, in Marco's experience.

“So good,” he said in a strong, dominant voice, “that you won’t be able to repeat it.”

Marc's whole entourage turned to Marco, collectively giving him a once over, and he straightened, not the least frightened. Just to be certain Marc would rise to the bait, Marco lifted his chin high, looking down his nose at Marc and, as predicted, that made Marc's hackles rise.

“Excuse me?”

Marc had a very pleasant voice. A low, threatening baritone that made Marco vibrate much more pleasantly than that godforsaken bass.

Marco shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying, if you’re as good as you seem to think, you should be able to repeat your performance.”

Marc snorted, turning fully to Marco, without a doubt the head of his group, shoulders squared and cocky grin back.

“Twelve seconds is nothing, man. That was just warm-up.”

By the look the older man with the wavy hair threw Marc, Marco suspected that twelve seconds was actually a rather good time and one that might be hard for Marc to beat. And Marco wanted Marc to win. Wanted him cocky and sure of himself as he submitted to Marco's touches.

“It was pure luck,” he challenged in a haughty tone, enjoying the twinkle in Marc's eyes.

“And who are you to say that?” a bigger man behind Marc asked in a gruff voice, the same man that congratulated him earlier. “Some kind of expert, are you?”

Marco spared the man a glance. Twinky, but a decent face. Marc sure knew how to pick handsome friends Marco would give him that. But they all paled in the face of Marc's appearance.

“Oh, I’m certain I would fall on my face if I ever tried,” Marco answered in a calm voice, smiling to himself when him admitting that made the man’s face fall. Marc, however, looked at Marco with sudden interest. “I was merely proposing a bet, since you impressed me and seem so sure of your own abilities,” he directed the last words to Marc, who drew himself up.

“Bull riding isn’t a joke.”

“So, you’re afraid?” Marco enjoyed seeing Marc flounder. “Well maybe it’s for the best. You must be tired; I doubt you would even last five seconds now.”

“Five seconds?” Marc spluttered, some of his group laughing, though it was unsure whether they were amused by the situation or Marc's suddenly squeaky voice. Marc walked into Marco's personal space and puffed out his chest. He smelled incredible. “I’ll last much more than that on any day.”

His low growl made Marco's whole body tingle. “Is that so?” he murmured, letting his eyes roam Marc's face and body. Marc definitely noticed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Marc grunted and Marco's eyes snapped up to Marc's, captivated by their beauty for a moment.

“I would, actually,” he easily admitted, voice low and inviting. “I would like to know that very much.”

Time seemed to stall for a moment, each caught in the other’s gaze, and Marco felt a thrill go through him. This was interesting, this was worth his time. Much more so than snorting tequila and salt from a random woman’s slick body or dancing poorly on rickety tables. Marco felt more alive in this moment than he had in years.

“Five seconds isn’t even a challenge,” the larger man said, interrupting them.

Marc seemed to shake himself.

“Eight, then,” Marco said with a confident smirk. “I bet you fifty euro you won’t last another eight seconds.”

“Fifty euro,” Marc muttered, eyeing Marco's clothes for the first time and seemingly only now realizing it wasn’t a cheap knock-off. “You better be able to fork that up, mate.”

“Don’t you worry about that, cowboy,” Marco winked and watched with satisfaction how Marc's pupils dilated slightly.

He muttered something that sounded like “whatever” and turned to go back to the bull. It had been busy in the background, flinging people off it left and right, and the crowd around it had grown even more but Marco easily found an empty seat where he could comfortably watch from afar.

Marc was talking to his friends, some of them throwing Marco looks, but Marc seemed determined to do this. Marco hoped they weren’t trying to talk him out of it because they thought he would hurt himself, Marco would be devastated if he inadvertently caused Marc harm. Most likely they were talking about the money, though, on the off-chance that Marc lost the bet. Marco really hoped that wouldn’t happen. No this was a battle he was willing to lose, to win the war, so to speak.

When it was finally Marc's turn to mount the bull again Marco was buzzing with anticipation, although he concealed it well enough. He saw Marc's friends tossing him glances from where they were standing, up by the ring, but he paid them no heed. He was perfectly comfortable back here, where he could pull one leg up and rest the ankle against his other knee, to hide inappropriate body reactions.

Because Marc was of course just as splendid the other time around. Time seemed to flow in slow-motion as Marc expertly rode the bull. He was either a natural or he had done this a lot, Marco easily concluded. Maybe he had even ridden real bulls? Now there was a thought.

A thick, muscular, frothing animal bucking as Marc worked every muscle in his glorious body just to stay on.

Marco grabbed his ankle and pulled on his leg a little, his dick swelling to ridiculous proportions just imagining Marc working the animal. Marc's face and body told of experience and Marco watched with hooded eyes as Marc frowned down at the fake bull, concentration wearing on his handsome face.

Would he look as concentrated when he rode Marco? Most likely not, not if Marco had any say in what went on. No, if he — when he was in charge, Marc would be completely relaxed, face slack as pleasure crested inside him.

Marco let out a shaky breath. He needed to calm down or Marc would be more disgusted than intrigued and Marco didn’t want that at all. Suddenly he felt as if he would suffocate if Marc looked at him with hatred and he was momentarily stunned by his own feelings. What did he care, really, what Marc thought of him? Marc was essentially a nobody, a stranger whose station was so below Marco it wasn’t even funny.

Except, when he watched Marc ride that bull, all of that seemed inconsequential. They were just two men in that moment, and Marco desired to stay like that almost as much as he desired Marc, as much as he coveted the man’s pleasure.

The ride ended somewhat more abruptly this time, compared to when last Marc rode. It still looked as if Marc had been in control of when to end it but as if he had been a bit more tired this time around and his tumble off the bull was less graceful and it took him a moment longer to get up off the padded area around the bull.

The long-haired man helped Marc off the stage and Marco stood up just as Marc walked over to him on adorably wobbly legs. A quick glance to the digital clock revealed an astounding 9.57 and Marco made sure to show appropriate surprise and awe, instead of the actual relief and arousal he actually felt.

“There,” Marc said, hands on his hips and voice delectably breathless. “Piece of cake.”

“So I see,” Marco said smugly and walked over to Marc, much too close even for acquaintances. “I’m man enough to own up to my loss,” he said with a smile and pulled out his wallet to fish out a fifty, one among many, though he didn’t show Marc that, not interested in catching the man that way.

“I hope there’s no hard feelings?” Marc said as he accepted the bill, their fingers brushing.

Marc's hand was shaking slightly, no doubt from exertion, and Marco was happy he had lowered the time for the bet so as not to force Marc to match his old time.

“None at all,” Marco said with an intimate smile, leaning in and speaking in a lower tone. “You should know, I’m also man enough to admit that I only wanted to see you ride that bull again.”

That made Marc's eyes flick down to Marco's mouth and up again. Marco enjoyed the fact that Marc actually was a bit shorter than him, if only an inch, and definitely smaller.

There was a beat of silence and then, “Are you sure you’re only interested in seeing me ride bulls?”

A pleasurable wave so forceful it almost choked him washed over Marco and he swallowed once to be sure his voice was under control.

“I can imagine you’re apt at riding all sorts of things.”

Marc shifted from foot to foot. Marco's blood rushed in his ears, drowning out every sound except Marc's.

“You content with imagining it or do you want a demonstration?”

Marco arched an eyebrow, enjoying Marc's challenging tone and squared jaw, but not as much as Marc's reaction to the look Marco gave him. There was clear arousal in Marc's eyes now and Marco reveled in it.

“I have a car outside and an apartment not far from here.”

Marc flashed him that wonderfully cocky grin of his. “Deal.”

Marco took a moment to check his phone when Marc turned to talk to his friends. A quick message ensured that his friends knew he was leaving and not to wait up. Marco smiled to himself as he heard Marc explain that he would “take a hike”.

“Marc, are you sure that’s—”

“Gotta live a little, Alex,” Marc said happily and slapped the man on his back before walking over to Marco. “Good to go?”

“If you are?” Marco said but started walking through the crowd around them without waiting for a reply. Marc easily kept up with his pace, as Marco had suspected he would.

“Don’t mind Alex, he’s just being an overprotective little brother.”

Marco nodded, not having much experience with that but understanding it anyway. “Maybe he’s right to worry a little, considering the things I have in mind for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Marc smirked just as they exited the club, the fresh summer air a blessing compared to the scorching heat of the club. Marco breathed a deep sigh of relief. “What are you planning anyway? You seem pretty vanilla to me.”

Marco smiled at the playful insult. “And yet you came with me.”

“Hey,” Marc said, voice suddenly low and seductive. “You’re like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, I don’t care what you wanna do, I’m in.”

Not that Marco was really planning anything more outrageous than rimming Marc until the man cried from the need to have Marco's hard dick inside him, but it was good to know Marc felt inclined to trust him.

“You know my name, but I don’t even know yours,” Marc murmured as they settled into the Italians car, eyes on his lips. “I’m kinda stupid for even getting in this thing with you, huh?”

“My name is Marco Bezzecchi,” Marco said, other hand brushing down Marc's front, catching on the edge of the man’s jeans. “And please don’t call yourself stupid.”

Marc shifted so that they were sitting almost facing each other, Marc's hands working on opening Marco's jacket as he drove.

“That's too long for me to scream when I come,” he said, voice making Marco's body vibrate with desire. “I’m gonna call you Bez.”

“Please do,” Marco answered, voice equally hushed, and nosed closer so that Marc turned his head just as their hands found each other’s hard-ons. “My friends do.”

Marc moaned into their first kiss, low and sweet and all for Marco as the car parked. He swallowed it greedily, pressing closer as Marc pressed the heel of his hand against Marco's dick. Their lips slid together, noses bumping, but Marco was too wound up to keep to sweet kisses for long. Marc seemed just as eager in the way he opened up when Marco licked his lips and Marco pushed in deep, owned Marc in that one gesture and felt a chilled heat pool in his groin.

Marc, for all his physical strength, sagged against Marco, moaning into the kisses and pawing at Marco's dick. Marco's plan was simple in this moment: get Marc hot and bothered so that he would be pliant and willing by the time they got inside.

Too bad his own pleasure was spiking almost dangerously already.

“Fuck you’re good at kissing,” Marc groaned when they pulled apart. “I’m so hard already, god damn.”

“I got hard from watching you ride the bull,” Marco was surprised by his own sincerity but Marc seemed only pleased.

“I could feel your eyes on me the second time,” he murmured. “I liked it.”

Fuck it, Marco would just have to come up with a way for them to get hot and hard again when they arrived. He needed Marc too much right in this moment to show any kind of restraint.

With one tug and a push, he had flipped them so that they were in the back with Marc on his back, Marco comfortable between the man’s strong legs. Legs that had hugged that bull like they wanted to crush it were now around him. Marco's dick jumped in his dress pants and Marc no doubt noticed.

“You like me watching you?” he asked, voice a low rumble and Marc parted his lips, nodding and looking up at Marco with big eyes. “Do you want me to see you in your pleasure, Marc?”

“Fuck,” Marc pressed out, one hand grabbing Marco's arm and the other digging between them to start opening his jeans. “I can’t wait, Bez.”

“You don’t think you’ll make it, is that it?” he asked, rising to help Marc get their dicks out. “Do you want to let some out now?”

“I’m riding you tonight,” Marc shot back, eyes glinting and Marco shuddered with pleasure.

“I’ll remember that, little cowboy.”

Marc opened his mouth to no doubt banter back but instead a deep groan forced itself out when Marco pressed their hard dicks together for the first time. Marco's whole body sagged with pleasure and he pressed his knees harder against the seat, sitting up a little and putting one hand on the back of the seat for support as he took their dicks in his other hand, squeezing them.

Marc arched his back, gasping and grabbing the seat under him as his body shuddered. His dick jumped in Marco's grip, pressing against Marco's and there was really no stopping him now. Yes, he wanted to wait, and no, they didn’t even have lube, but the desire was choking him, and Marc was making all the right sounds as Marco started jacking them. Marc was apparently one of those guys who had a lot of precome because Marco's hand got sticky fast enough to replace the need for lube.

“I’ll take such good care of you,” Marco huffed out, breathless now as the pleasure burned white-hot inside him. “Rim you, prep you, fuck you.”

Marc moaned, legs flexing around Marco. “I’m gonna ride you until you cry,” he pressed out through gritted teeth and Marco felt an unexpected surge of arousal at the challenge. “Gonna ruin you for all other asses.”

Oh sweet Lord, Marco was going to come soon. He had never been this attracted to someone, the way Marc challenged him even while submitting was blowing Marco's mind.

“You’ll never want another dick,” he managed to quip, words clipped, and sped up his hand.

They rocked together in the dim light of the car, the world outside forgotten as they came together, hands grabbing each other and dicks aching, yearning to release. Marco's balls had pulled up, so prepared to shoot all over Marc, and Marc's dick was leaking a continuous stream of precome that Marco craved to taste.

His spine burned with his arousal and he panted hotly, leaning down over Marc again, one hand on the seat beside Marc's head as Marc grabbed his body to pull him even closer.

“I’m gonna fucking come,” Marc grunted, pushing away Marco's hand and wrapping his legs around Marco's hips, bucking up. “Kiss me.”

Marco readily indulged Marc, hips working to grind their hard dicks together and though it was rough with their clothes and zippers in the way, it was the most glorious Marco had ever felt. Marc kissed him as if he were a man parched and Marco cradled Marc's head, one hand on Marc's hip, encouraging his movements.

True to his word, Marc came only moments later, body locking up and a shaky moan escaping his parted lips. Wetness spread between them but far from being tacky, it only spurred Marco on and he came too, a handful of thrusts later.

“Well, that was something,” Marc panted after a moment.

Marco blinked and did his best to pull back but his head was swimming a bit. “It wasn’t what I had planned,” he admitted and couldn’t help but grin down at the mess they had made. It was all over their clothes. Marc of course looked ravishing covered in Marco's come. “But then, the night is young.”

“Definitely,” Marc grinned up at him, cocky as ever. “You aren't getting out of that ride.”

Marco felt a renewed wave of arousal just as the overhead light flashed around them. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” he smirked, thinking that for all its faults, the night couldn’t have turned out better in the end.

Marco walked them up to an apartment and then knocked on the door, he turned to Marc and smiled.

“Do you live with someone?” Marc asked, suddenly feeling like maybe this wasn’t the ideal plan.

Marco snickered, taking out a large ring of keys and trinkets from his jacket. He put the key in the lock and then turned to Marc before turning the key.

“No, I’m just scared of walking in on someone robbing my apartment so I knock to make sure they’re gone by the time I go in.”

Marc took a step back, “Are you serious?”

“Nope,” Marco said, opening the door and gesturing for Marc to enter. “It’s just a habit.”

The corners of Marc’s mouth turned up a little, amused, he poked Marco in the ribs as he walked past to show his mild annoyance with the bad joke. Marc chuckled, and then walked past Marco, letting the door stay wide open for some reason.

Marc's first impression of Marco's apartment was that it was well lived in, a loved space. Wherever he looked, there were pieces of personality shining through. It felt memorable, interesting. Full of care.

Marco stood still by the door, closing it behind himself. He took in the warm colors and the decorative knick-knacks that he could see all over. Potted plants kept high and low, posters and art in many styles and varying ages.

"Nice place. Have you lived there long?" Marc asked, pushing his hands down in his pockets just to have something to do with them. The space felt perfect, and Marco felt more perfect each second he spent with him.

"A few years," Marco turned to Marc, scratching his neck, and looked over this own space like he hadn't done that in a while. "It's too much, I know, but-"

"No, no. It's perfect." Marc felt the blush come alive again. "I like it."

Marco looked at him with some sort of surprise, nodding. He looked around again and then back at Marc. The looks changed almost immediately. 

He moved closer, a few steps to his side as he placed his hand on Marc's side. His fingers kneading down into the muscle there. Marco cornered him, making him back up until he was pinned to the wall. The pressure made Marc's breath catch in his throat. Marco's grip was light, fingers pressed down. And that was all that was holding him in place. 

"Hey," Marco said. He looked good like this, Marc thought. Standing over Marc. The light fixture above them made it look like Marco was wearing a halo.

"Hi," Marc answered, breathy and low. He had to lean his head back to the wall to get a good look at Marco when they stood this close. The closeness also made him in perfect view of the movement of the muscles in Marco's neck and jaw. Constantly moving, like Marco had tension built up that just couldn't escape. 

Marco moved his hands, placing them at the back of Marc's head. The moment felt like it could last forever. 

He pulled Marco's head down toward himself. Their noses touched for a second before their lips finally made contact. 

Marc sighed into it. The softness in which Marc stilled at that let Marco take the lead even further. Marco tasted sour, Marc needed more. The sensation of moving muscles under his hand and a grin against his lips filled Marco's mind with sparks. He quickly wanted more of all of it. 

With a light bite, he asked Marc for more. The question was answered by Marc opening his mouth and meeting him halfway, tongues brushing carefully together as Marco pulled Marc even closer, pushing both arms over Marc's shoulders to minimize the room between them. 

Marco had gone home with people before. The men had all just been distractions. Something to pass the time and release the stress of his day-to-day life. 

Kissing Marc, touching him, felt like something was coming into shape. Like the mass under his hands was clay ready to be molded into something. It felt different, and it made him feel desperate. 

"Bedroom?" Marc asked, 

"Yeah…" 

"No, where is your bedroom?"

"Oh, it's right there-"

Marc took Marco by then hand and pulled Marco after himself, turning when he got close to the door and pulling Marc close for another kiss as he fell with his back against the closed door. Marc met the kiss openmouthed and wanting, his hand going to the doorknob to open the door. He held Marco up with a hand on Marco's lower back, keeping his from falling backward as the door flew open and Marc lead him into the room.

Marc was stronger than Marco had anticipated, which gave him many ideas that he needed to explore.

Marco continued to move backward, Marc guiding him. When the back of his knees his something soft, he allowed himself to fall backward and Marc helped him lay down softly.

He pulled at Marc's shirt hem, annoyed by the extra layers. "Take this off," he said, mumbling his words and lazily flicking the fabric between his fingers.

Marc did as he was told, and the clothing was quickly discarded. Marco did the same, unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it in the same direction as Marc had started throwing his clothes. He started to unzip his pants, stopping only to motion for Marc to do the same. 

Marc was quick here too, the jeans falling down to the floor and then a fast two-step out of them. Toes catching the fabric and kicking the jeans to the side.

Marco snorted, pulling his pants down and off, letting them fall to the floor. He motioned for Marc to come closer, a beckoning finger asking him to come here. And once again, Marc did precisely what he was told, in record time. 

He crowded Marco, chests pressed against each other as Marc took hold just under the curve of Marco's ass and hoisted him more onto the bed. Then placing himself on top of Marco. 

"All good?"

"I'm great," Marco said, feeling his stomach flip as his mind replayed the light manhandling of the movement. So many possibilities, the opportunities were stacking up in neat little piles in his brain. 

"Good," Marc said, followed by a kiss. A quick peck, something to sign the deal. 

Marco could feel something in his lower belly start to form too early. He bit down, swallowed it, and placed his hands on Marc's shoulders as he hovered over him. He pushed Marc to his side, turning his own body so they were facing each other again. Legs still slightly tangled, feeling each other. The lack of pressure from another body helped, and Marco went in for another kiss.

The kissing got deeper, more rushed. Mouths open, small bursts of breathing against each other's lips to catch their breaths. Marc's hand graced Marco's cheek, moving along the jaw and then down over the side of his neck. Moving from the side and back to his nape, then back to the side in a slow movement.

Marc pulled away, already sounding out of breath. "Hey, so... What do you want?" he asked, his hand still moving over Marco's neck and into his hair. "Tell me what you like."

The touch felt deliberate to the point of almost being too much, too deep of a connection. Marco still leaned into it, acting like he'd been touch starved, and he was ready for a feast. 

"Well, you're the bull rider-"

"You want me to ride you?" Marc asked, raising his brow and trying to hide his grin. Marco was still touching him, looking at him like they'd known each other for all their lives, and not like this was something new, not some one-time thing. 

"I wouldn't mind that," Marc said, his eyes falling closed for a second as he composed himself. "But after seeing you in the car, I think you'd kill me — that… everything you did was… I don't think I can handle that happening again."

"Want to make another bet?" Marco asked, moving in close.

"Honestly, I'm starting to think that you always cheat when making bets."

"Is that a no?" Marco smirked. "I can show you a good time, I promise." 

"Jesus christ, are you always like this?"

"No, you're special," Marco said, smiling. He knew his words sounded insincere, but there was a knot in Marc's throat that scared him. Not of what he said but what he wanted it to mean. 

Marc leaned in, closing the short distance between them with another kiss. He positioned his body more on top of Marco, pressing him down into the mattress by his shoulders as he slowly made his way to fully straddling Marco. He could feel Marco half hard against his ass.

He pulled away from Marco's lips, his mouth gracing over Marco's chin and down his neck — making small stops to peck more kisses as he went. He found pleasure in this, feeling Marco's breath catch under him, the heat and taste of Marco's skin against him. It felt nice, felt needed. 

His hands squeezed Marco's shoulders before moving down to feel along Marco's sides, feeling and pressing his fingers down into the mass under himself to make it known that he was there. 

Marco's breathing was coming out in heavy bursts. Hitching and catching. Marc wanted him to talk, say something. Make a sound, something to tell Marc how he was feeling.  

Marc liked the sound of him, reveled in it.  

"This ok?" Marc asked. "You're quiet." 

Marco shuddered, letting out a gasp. "I'm just — this is good, it's good," Marco said, looking down at Marc. His lashes looked so dark like that. Heavy and thick, eyes studying. 

"Yeah?"

"Stop that," Marco laughed, pressing Marc's face down into his chest so that Marc couldn't look at him. "You fucking know it's good."

Marc didn't try to move against Marco's hand laying on his head. It wasn't holding him down, more holding him in place. There was no force, just the weight of Marco's hand. He grinned into Marco's skin, then continued his way down, down, down when he felt that Marco wasn’t going to hold him.  

Marco's hand was still placed on his head as he moved, and he didn't do anything until Marc reached Marco's lower stomach. His fingers tangled up in Marc's hair and pulled, stopping him from moving. 

"Give me a second," Marco said, so close to begging Marc wanted to tease the rest out immediately. "I just need to collect myself. Just one... One second."

With how Marc's head was placed, he still couldn't see Marco's face. The sound of his voice was thick, heavy and a bit slurred. Marc could feel Marco's pulse through his skin, feel the quickness of his breath. 

"That's fine," Marc said, moving his hands below Marco's hipbones and holding on with a firm grip. "I can wait."

"Fuck, Marc,"  Marco said. "How are you so good at this."

"Practice makes perfect, right?"

"God fucking damn it, ok… ok," Marco pulled his hand back, his grip moving from Marc's hair to the sheets. "Ok, do your worst. I'm ready." 

"Worst?" Marc asked, smiling up at Marco again, their eyes meeting. Marco looked flushed, his pupils blown and his bottom lip wet and marked. Marc wondered for a second if he was the one that had left the marks on there or if it was Marco biting down. Either way, Marc really liked the way it looked. 

"Best, whatever," Marco huffed and then threw his arm over his eyes. 

"I always do my best," Marc said like it was stupid of Marco to assume anything else. 

Marc's fingers moved under the elastic of Marco's boxers, pulling them down as he laid another kiss just below Marco's belly button. He then sat up, seated on his knees between Marco's legs. He looked at Marco lying there in front of him — bare, needy. Skin pink and shiny, a blotchy blush over his chest and neck. 

Marc's eyes moved further down, placing over chest hair that became a light sprinkling over a softer middle, which then became thicker as it went below his belly button. His eyes glanced lower, admiring his view as his eyes settled on Marco's dick.

"Can I touch you?"

"You've been touching me."

"Ha ha, can I touch your dick, you dick?" Marc pressed his thumbs into the soft skin by Marco's hipbones - making sure that Marco knew he was there. Desperate to leave a trace. 

"Please don't be funny right now. I’m already so turned on I’m scared to become a heart attack statistic.”

Marc laughed, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, for fucks sake, touch me, please."

The room felt like it was filled with sparkling electricity as Marc bent down again, kissing from his last spot under Marco's belly button and continuing lower. He could hear Marco breathing heavily, his breaths falling into a steady, recognizable rhythm. Marc stopped, smiling against Marco's skin.

"Are you Lamaze breathing?" Marc asked between kisses, placing a last one at the base of Marco's dick. Marco let out a light groan.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." He sounded out of breath, flustered. 

"You're so weird." 

"You're such a tease."

"And you're so easy," Marc said, smiling up at Marco. "If you don't enjoy it, you can just tell me to stop."

Marco shook his head, "No, no, fuck no. I enjoy it.”

Marc crawled back up on Marco, placing himself so that they were face to face. Marco starred at him. Marc wasn’t sure what Marco could see, he was so close he was sure it would be blury, especially in the dimly lit bedroom they'd found themselves in.

“Hola,” Marc said, floating over Marco. His hands were placed on each side of Marco's head, keeping him up yet so very close.

“Ciao,” Marco said back, smiling. Marc sat back up, straddling Marco's middle. He reached for the curls covering his face and pulled them back, gently. “Thank you.”

“You need to see this part,” Marc said, leaning back to settle himself better over Marco's hips.

He started to move his hips softly, feeling Marco's dick press against the cleft of his ass. The fabric of his boxers was the only thing between them. Marco hissed, letting out small noises as Marc adjusted. 

"What you do is, you follow the motion of the bull with your hips," Marc said, lifting himself up and then moving over Marco's crotch again with an easy flow in his hip. "The trick is to find the motion the bull is giving you, feel it with your hips, and then let it all move through your spine. You don't fight it."

"Inter- ah! -esting," Marco said through gritted teeth, a low moan splitting the word up. Marc smiled.

"I've been told I'm a great teacher." Marc didn't stop moving, grinding down smoothly over Marco and feeling his squirm.

"Cazzo, you're killing me," Marco said, voice pleading. 

"Listen," Marc said, giving Marco a light slap on his cheek so he'd focus. "Just look at me, see what I'm doing?"

"Yeah," Marco said, voice breathy and low. 

"I want you to do this for me, ok?"

Marco blinked, looking confused. "I thought we'd already established that I'm stiff as hell."

Marco looked down at Marc, "yeah, I can feel your dick against my ass. I know."

"I meant the riding."

Marc chuckled, ”I know, the bet is that I can teach you ride the bull.” Marc pressed down harder, making Marco tilt his head back as a hollow sound left his throat. "and, as I said, I've been told I'm a great teacher." 

Marco took a deep breath, grabbing Marc by the hips and rolling them over. Marc felt like the heat was radiating from him when his back hit the sheets. Marco was on his knees between Marc's thighs, he kissed Marc once before leaning back on his heels and clicked his tongue.

"Well, let’s see what you can teach me, teach.”

Marc reached for the bottle of lube and slicked himself up by giving himself a few strokes as Marco positioned himself. Positioned over Marc, he leaned slightly forward — aligning himself with Marc's dick and then slowly pushing down.  

Marc gasped, mouth falling open at the feeling. The slow movement up and down as Marco took more and more of him was excruciatingly hot. When Marco bottomed out, he stilled. Looking at Marc with heavy eyes and wetted his lips as he was getting used to the feeling. He looked amazing like that. 

Marco adjusted, making Marc catch a moan in his throat. 

"You good?" he asked, placing one of his hands on Marc's chest and the other on Marc's hip — finding his balance. 

"Si," Marc said. "You can move." 

Marco did as he was told, lifting himself up and then slow down again. Marco watched him closely, his hands on Marc's hips to help his movement, not for control.

"Fuck," Marc said under his breath, sounding like a whine.

Marc bit down on his bottom lip, his fingers digging into the meat on Marco's hip as he thrust up at the same time Marco came down. It made Marco let out a surprised moan, his rhythm halting. Marc thrust up again, deep and hard, his hands on Marco's hips helping him find the pace again.

"Is it- fuck… Is it good?” Marco asked, moving again. He was stiff in his movement, not to the point of making any of it less enjoyable, but Marc was trying to make a point.

"It’s good, it’s so - Marco, Bez," Marc said, moving his hands down Marco's thighs and feeling the muscle work. "Remember what I said, just feel it and follow. Just – Fuck!" Marc threw his head back as Marco, again, did just as he was told, finding the flow with Marc's thrust and met him seamlessly in the movement. Moving in a wavelike pattern, his hips loosening straight away.

Marc felt tension pooling in his lower stomach, a coil heating up lower down. His grip on Marco's thighs tightened, begging Marco to go faster. Marco was making all kinds of sounds, low moans that grew to almost a shout. Marc wanted to taste the sounds he was making.

He tried to speed up even more, desperate to hear what else would come out. 

"You look so good. You look amazing," Marco groaned, feeling sweat run from his forehead and down his temple. "Fuck Bez, you sound amazing." Marc gripped Marco by the hip again, feeling up his sides. “Just like that, exactly like that. You’re doing so good.”

Marco smiled, not slowing his movement. "You like this?" he asked, more a question than a tease. Marc thrust up harder, hitting Marco deeper, and he fell forward. Gasping and whining.  

"Oh god, I'm so fucking close-" Marco said, digging his face deeper into Marc's chest. His fingers on the hand that used to steady him pressed down into Marc's sternum and left marks. Marc didn't stop, the angle was weird, but it seemed to get the job done just fine. Marco's face still buried in his chest, mumbling nonsense and breathing hard. 

The coil in Marc's lower belly was tensing up even more, he was close.

In the heat of the moment, he rolled them around. Changing positions so that he was on top and Marc fell on his back. He gasped, sounding like he was choking on air. Looking flushed all over, his eyes were almost entirely black and his curls ended up littered around, framing his face. Marc reached out and fixed them, wanting Marco to see, and then leaning down to kiss him as he started to move at a quick pace again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Marco said, his hands gripping into the sheets for leverage. "Touch me. Please, touch me."

One of Marco's hands grabbed Marc's, moving it over himself between them. Marc followed without question, placing his hand on Marco's dick and giving him slowly paced strokes. Marco's bottom lip quivered, his mouth open and a guttural sound came out. After a few more strokes, Marco started to cum roped between them. His body tensed, contracting on Marc as he tried to keep his pace going. 

"You feel so fucking good, Holy-" With what he was seeing, sensing, smelling, Marc came. His eyes slammed shut as the orgasm took over. When he came to, he felt light and boneless, lying chest to chest with Marco. Both still breathing heavily, both sweaty and sticky. 

After a moment, Marco cleared his throat, "Thank you for showing me the proper technique for doing that, I…." He laughed. "No, I can't even make up a joke right now. That was amazing. fucking hell."

"Yeah," Marc said, feeling like he was made of cloud. Marc Cumulus. Don't mind the double entendre. 

They lied in silence for a few minutes after that, Marc realizing he was still inside Marco much later than was probably acceptable. He slowly pulled out, both of them hissing at the sensation. 

"Sorry," Marc said, rolling off Marco and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I think I lost most of my brain cells when I came, that was... Fuck, that was perfect.” He looked over at Marco, eyeing the shape of him. The size and the curve. He never wanted to stop looking, really wished he would be able to never stop. 

Marco pulled the sheet up over his chest, followed by Marc quickly pulling it down again. Like they are playing a game. Marco smiled softly and with a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed shy now. Like looking at Marc was too much, but he couldn't make himself stop. 

"Alright," Marco pulled the sheets up again, covering his chest up to his collarbones.

"That was good," Marc said, again. "Thank you."

Marco let out a full-body laugh, curving inward on the bed as he rolled over on his side towards Marc. He gave Marco a slow kiss on the cheek, and Marco wanted to follow him when he pulled away. 

"Well, you’re welcome." 

"Thanks," Marco said again, mortified by the sound of his own voice. 

Marco felt hot all over still, not in the same way as earlier but like a teakettle ready to start whistling. The light of the outside streetlight showered Marc's face in a soft yellow. It felt like a sign. Marco had just not realized what for yet. 

"All my pleasure, Bez." Marc said, rubbing the sheet over his belly. Really ruining them.

"No, don't say it like that!" Marco laughed, picking up the pillow from under his head and hitting Marc over the side of his face. "Don't be gross." 

"I think you like a little gross," Marc said. "I think you're a little freak that's just waiting to get out."

Marco hit him with the pillow again, "Shut up!" 

His laugh traveled from the middle of his chest, up and out in the open air of the bedroom. It ended in a smile, easy and genuine. Marc couldn't remember when he laughed like this last. 

Marc waved his hands over his head in retreat, laying the pillow down, and then rolled over on his side, face to face with Marco. 

"I'm not a freak."

"I know," Marc said. "Just a little bit weird and a lot of bossy." 

Marco felt himself blush, "Bossy?"

"Great quality, as I love to be told what to do." 

Marco narrowed his eyes on Marc, shaking his head slightly. "You don't seem like someone who does what others tell you."

"Oh, no. I'm not. I just like to be told to do stuff. It's different than actually doing what I'm told."

Marco laughed again, pressing Marc's face away from him with a  playfulness he didn’t know he had in himself. The night was dark and quiet. Marco could lie like this forever. But he remembered what it was, a quick hook up after some quick flirting in a bar.

The feeling of bliss didn’t leave him though, and Marc didn’t stop smiling at him.

"So," Marc started, turning his head and staring up onto the ceiling. "Can I call you sometime?"

Marco looked at Marc's side profile. The downturn of his nose, the double curve of his lips. He wanted to thank Marc's parents for their excellent work. They really did a great job with the gene composition. They should get a prize, some kind of award for their work. 

"Sure," Marco said. "You could do that."

"Nice, ok," Marc cleared his throat, still saying straight up. "And if I asked you out to dinner tomorrow, would that be ok too?"

Marco felt something flip in him, a flutter. "That would be ok."

"Great."

"Great."

Marc laughed, followed by Marco laughing too. 

"Good cause if this had been a one-time thing, I think I'd have to go celibate," Marc said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Don't think anyone else can live up to that. Ever." 

"Stop flattering me. I already said yes to dinner." Marco laughed, poking Marc in the ribs. 

"Hey, stop," He said, laughing too. "Maybe I'm flattering you for a second round?"

Marco let out a tired sigh, pressing his face into the middle of Marc's chest. Creating a burrow for himself to sleep. "Absolutely, I just need a nap first," He said. "Maybe a glass of water or a snack."

"I can accept all those things,” Marc said, his fingers moving through Marco's curls. “All those things are acceptable to me."

"Good, wake me up in like 45 minutes, ok?"

"Fine, yeah," Marc said, his fingers continuing to move through Marco's hair. "I'll do that."