#maybe a cookie or two or five if you'd like

[gardenerian]

Darling Mel!

May I give you a wee prompt to chew over? How do you think Ian and Mickey navigate how hard the holidays can be? And weird melancholy mixed with nostalgia and yearning that comes with this time of year?

It's a joy whenever you pop in in these parts! I hope you're doing well and are keeping cozy. ☕☃️🫂

hi sweetness! i am very cozy and enjoying the season 🥰 i hope you are too darling! thank you for this ask - i think about this often during this time of year...

i bet there are some memories that lurk for them both, ya know? they lost each other just before christmas once. mickey spent that christmas alone, on the run in a new place. and then ian came home to another loss, launching him into grief that changed the course of his life (again). i can imagine that it could be easy to get a little bogged down by those memories some days. to combat that, i bet they just spend some extra time together. romantic nights in, lazy days on the couch, going out for a holiday drink or two and smiling at each other at the bar. just to remind themselves that they are solid together and things are okay! maybe they spend a night eating holiday snacks and making some fun plans for the new year, to remind themselves that there is a future to look forward to!!!!

and i think there might be a pressure to Do Holidays Right sometimes, too. to make up for lost time, to give each other and their families the experiences they might not have had as kids. it's a lot to put on yourself! between the time commitments, family dynamics.... the MONEY it all costs.... they may end up feeling worn out and stretched too thin. for this, i think they'd slip away from all the noise when they can. when it's 1:00 in the morning and kev is leading everyone in drunken caroling, and fiona is back and shouting with vee, and lip has a screeching new born.... mickey pulls ian outside for a smoke. they sit quietly, passing a cigarette back and forth, leaning on each other. ian calls them an uber to go home after a few minutes of peace. no need to say goodbye to the mess inside, they'll be back again tomorrow.

then there's just.... like you said, a weird melancholy that can settle in the bones during the holidays. it can be hard to simply. not feel festive when there's so much expectation to Feel Good! i would imagine that ian gets a little down and moody in the winter. this is why they try to do some special gestures for each other. ian stocks up on the peppermint coffee creamer that mickey loves so much, mickey buys ian some goofy fuzzy socks while he's at the pharmacy getting ian's meds. more hand holding... more little kisses.... little gestures. i'm here you're here i love you!

whew! those are some thoughts! sending you and everyone a big holiday hug with a mug of hot cocoa and a comfy blanket 🎄❤️❄️✨

[bunny-jpeg]

Hello!!! How are you?🫶🏻✨

First of all, I love your writing, you have a marvellous mind. Pls keep doing what you're doing, it's chef kiss 🤌🏻🩷

Secondly, I would like to make an order I can share and enjoy with Lando 😉 Can we have a carrot cake, a chocolate chip cookie and a custard tart with a mocha coffee and a double espresso shot?

We know the mix is a bit too much but we trust you. Thank you very much in advance. Xx ♥️

the bakery menu

feel free to order your own treats! as for this order i am happy to serve up something sweet! i really hope you like this, i am proud of it! i'm also surprised of the amount of lando norris everyone wants!

carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + custard tarts ("i've never done this before.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, oral sex (femme receiving), dirty talk, engineer!reader, driver!lando, virgin!reader, oral sex (lando receives),

lando loved you. he really did, not only were you his favourite engineer, you were also his girlfriend. lando didn't want to mess it all up and going too fast. but after almost five months of dating, you two had never had sex.

not that lando really minded, he wasn't some horny dog who needed his dick wet all the time. he wanted to cherish and love you. but sometimes, he'd let his mind wander at thoughts of you.

a particular one that bounced around in his mind, a personal favourite was the one where he bred you. that was for when you weren't with the team at races, and it was just lando and his fist.

thoughts of you in his arms, his cock bullied into your sweet pussy. his filthy words in your ear. sweet promises that he was going to breed you nice and well. and anytime you tried to mention your career, he'd just kiss you quiet. promising that you could still be an engineer with a couple of norris kids.

the thought of that made his cock ache every time he thought about it. belly full of life that the could snuggle after a race, taking your kids to the park. being a proper family. it always sent him over the edge and left a huge mess in his boxers.

but before he could make sure you were all full of his cum, he'd needed to have his first time with you. it wouldn't be fair to get you pregnant on your first time!

it was the off-season and you were back home. you two didn't live together, but you were over often. often scolding your boyfriend for misuse of the oven or something else that would be considered silly. he'd just smile and smooth the lines in your face with kisses.

the break between seasons felt like the perfect chance to finally get intimate with you. there was no jet-lag or running around. there was no sleepless nights and high anxiety days. you two could rest and get familiar with one another.

he was watching you check the pasta in the pot to see if it was fully cooked yet. he licked his lips and crossed his arms before he asked, "love, do you even think about us getting.. closer?"

you looked over and chuckled, "lando, i think it's a little too soon for us to live together."

lando scratched the back of his neck and replied, "no, no.. not yet. i mean, if you're comfortable. maybe we could try... having sex?" he felt his blood pressure jump.

you put the wooden spoon down on the counter and looked to your boyfriend. your mouth was in an 'o' shape for a moment before you said, "oh! sex!"

lando laughed, "you forgot about sex? i mean... did you ever think about sex.. sex with us?" he knew you weren't asexual or something akin to it, he knew that you masturbated and what not. you just never were in a situation where you would've had sex. and lando didn't want to shove it onto you.

your face went hot, "i mean... of course! i was just worried about having sex during the season!" you scratched your neck nervously, "i was worried that you'd pull something and your performance on the track would be worse. or that a change in the routine before and after races would ruin your chances of a good season."

lando laughed, "oh my god, love. come here." he got closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. then kissed you on the top of your head.

you looked at him, "i'm sorry. i didn't realize! but yes! i would love to have sex with you! but it might take a while. i've never even given a blow job."

lando kissed you once more, "how about after dinner, we start with that? we have a few months to get a little.. closer."

you nodded eagerly, "of course! i'd love to!" you heard the water boil over out of the pot and onto the stove. you got out of your lover's arms to check on the food.

lando felt excited. how could he not. he was getting a chance to feel intimate with his lovely girlfriend. the excitement that coursed through him even made your lovely dinner taste better!

-

"is there anything you want to try before we start. anything i can do to make this more comfortable." he asked as he looked down at you. you were seated on the bed. you feet didn't touch the floor of the bedroom. it was cute.

you swallowed, "um... i, uh. well." you looked away, your cheeks burned.

lando cupped your face and looked down at you, "nothing is gonna scare me, honey." he smiled at you, "tell me."

you said, your gaze met with him, "i.. i like dirty talk. anytime i've read it somewhere in like a story.. i found it very hot. and i know you're... mouthy." you chuckled a little to make a joke.

"well then." he said, "i'll keep that in mind."

you said a little nervously, "i'm a little nervous, i've never done this before." you felt a thrill of excitement through your body as you watched lando let go of you and pull his cock out of his shorts.

"don't worry, love." he said, "i'll make sure you feel good as well."

you pressed your cheek against his abdomen, letting him take control. the sight of his cock stirred something in you. a need for you to do your best and make your boyfriend feel good. even if you didn't have the skills, you were eager to learn.

and who would be a better teacher than your loving boyfriend. you closed your eyes and let lando guide your head onto his cock. you kissed his length before you softly took it in your mouth.

lando hissed through his teeth, but when you looked at him nervously he gave you a thumbs up, "don't worry. all good."

you took more in your mouth and started on a steady pace. you felt your heart hammer in your chest. you really had never done this before but you didn't want the excitement to cause you to mess up.

"that's it. that's a good girl." he groaned, the praise made you rub your thighs together. you were just so adorable. he couldn't wait to explore every inch of your sweet body.

he had all of the off-season to make love to you. and if he was lucky maybe his breeding kink could show a bit of himself. that made his cock twitch in your mouth.

your eyes were closed and your hands were on his hips to steady yourself as you orally pleasured him. you weren't terrible, at least in lando's opinion.

"are you sure this is your first time doing this?" he asked softly. you looked up at him once more, eyes gleaming. you nodded and little and lando laughed, "hmm, i don't know. you're really good at this." the praise made your core throb and lando noticed. he held onto your hair a little tighter and moved you a little further down his cock, "don't worry, love. it doesn't bite." and laughed. his cheeks were pink from the rush in his body.

you whimpered as you continued. you kept an ear open for all the noises that lando was making. from his heavy breathing to the shudder through his body. you trusted him that if you were doing something wrong, he'd tell you.

"you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat" he cooed at you, "i wonder what the rest of the team would feel if they saw you like this. i know some of them have thought about you, get a few drinks in 'em and they're talking about how they want to be the one to ruin your virginity." he laughed, "but i know i'll be the one to ruin them for you. you'll only want my cock."

you whimpered, your pussy was slick. this was hottest thing you've ever thought could happen. yeah, you've read erotic fiction and gotten a bit flustered. but this was something else. this sent a shock through you as you continued to pleasure him.

orgasm felt sharp in his mind. he softly guided you as the dirty talk tumbled out of his mouth. "i wonder if i could make you choke next time." he panted, "i wonder how good you could take me. i want all of you, love. i want to see all the ways i could make you cum. i want it all, and we got all of the off-season to see what makes you tick."

you whimpered.

"my pretty girl." he purred, it made your heart leap.

"lando." you said with a glaze in your eyes. your voice was muffled by the cock in your mouth and it was so painfully cute but also erotic that it sent lando over the edge.

his pretty girl, his little engineer with his cock stuffed in your throat. it couldn't get better than that. the words tumbled out of his mouth, "swallow it. all of it." and the look you gave made him easily cum down your throat. he almost got hard for a second time when he saw how dutifully you swallowed it all down.

"holy shit." he panted.

as you laid back on the bed to catch your breath. you knew the night wasn't over because lando was soon between your legs with your calves over his shoulders. it was only fair that he returned the favour.

after all, he learned something very important about his girlfriend. she was easy to get wet. <3

[iamgonnagetyouback]

lorenzo berkshire x oblivous bsf!reader who doesn't realize enzo's feelings for her

You and Lorenzo Berkshire had been inseparable since before either of you could remember. You shared everything: birthday parties, first days of school, scraped knees, and secret hideouts. Growing up in each other’s orbits meant that your lives were entwined so tightly that the idea of "you" and "Lorenzo" felt like one singular entity. There was no "you" without him.

Your earliest memories were filled with laughter—his soft giggles as you raced through the fields behind your house, his shy grin when you baked cookies together for the first time (though he burnt them terribly). As kids, you held hands without a second thought, sneaking into each other's homes when it rained, building forts out of blankets and pillows while you dreamed about the day you'd finally go to Hogwarts. The night before your first train ride, Lorenzo had shyly handed you a daisy he'd picked from his backyard.

"To remember me by," he mumbled, cheeks pink.

"As if I could forget," you'd teased, but the flower stayed pressed between the pages of your favourite book.

Then, Hogwarts happened, and you made new friends, got sorted into different houses (he ended up in Slytherin, you in Hufflepuff), but you still found each other between classes. The teasing continued, the inside jokes and pranks. You became his safe space when the weight of his duties pressed on him too hard, and he was your companion in every late-night gossip session.

There were still times when you thought there was something different. Like the time during a lazy summer day at the lake when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, even though the sun was shining brightly, or the way he hesitated just a moment too long before pulling his hand back after helping you up from a fall. You never thought too deeply about it, brushing it off as part of your long-standing friendship.

Year five arrived, and the two of you were as close as ever. Still, there were moments that felt... different, though you couldn't quite place why. He'd brush your shoulder when he passed you in the hall, or his gaze lingered just a little too long during meals. You laughed it off—because what could possibly change between you and Lorenzo? Best friends forever, right?

One night, in the Common Room, you were discussing upcoming exams when he turned to you, his voice lower than usual.

"Do you think..." he hesitated. "Do you think people can just stay the same forever? Like... always be what they are?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I mean... I guess? If they want to be. Why?"

Lorenzo only gave you a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No reason," he murmured before changing the subject.

In year six, things shifted subtly again. He started walking closer to you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you strolled through the halls. There were times when his laughter seemed softer, more reserved when he was alone with you. You didn’t notice, not in the way he hoped. It wasn’t obvious enough to break the oblivion that surrounded you, and maybe that was for the best.

It wasn’t until the holiday party that year that everything came crashing down.

Aurora, your best friend from Ravenclaw, had nowhere to go for the holidays. You couldn't leave her alone, so you invited her along to Blaise's annual party, excited to introduce her to the Slytherins you’d grown close with. Lorenzo had helped organize everything, naturally, and you spent the first half of the evening by his side, laughing with him as usual.

You introduced Aurora to everyone—Pansy, Draco, Astoria, Daphne, Theodore—and lastly, Lorenzo.

“This is Aurora,” you said, motioning to your friend with a grin. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. I think you two will get along well.”

Lorenzo’s eyes flicked from you to Aurora, offering her one of his rare, warm smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

You missed the way Aurora’s cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of his voice. But Pansy didn't.

The evening wore on, the room buzzing with laughter and chatter, and eventually, the group began to scatter into smaller conversations. Aurora pulled you aside near the punch table, her face unusually tense.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned by the sudden shift in her mood.

She hesitated, glancing nervously at where Lorenzo stood talking to Blaise. “I… I think I like Enzo.”

Her words hit you like a blow to the chest. You stared at her, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling suffocating. "What?"

“I think I like him," she repeated, biting her lip. "I don’t know how it happened, but… there’s something about him. The way he talks, how kind he is. He’s just so—”

You didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Everything blurred, and for a reason you couldn’t quite grasp, it hurt. A lot. You wanted to tell her she was mistaken, that it didn’t make sense, that Lorenzo wasn’t supposed to be liked like that—at least not by someone else.

But what could you say? She was your best friend too, and she deserved happiness. So, you forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I didn’t know. I mean, he is… he’s great, isn’t he?”

Aurora nodded, her expression soft. “Yeah. I hope it’s okay that I told you.”

“Of course it is.”

But it wasn’t. Not really.

The next morning found you sprawled across your bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory, staring blankly at the ceiling. The sun had already risen, casting beams of light through the window, but you hadn’t moved much since getting back from the party. The thoughts from the night before still circled in your mind, refusing to let go.

Your dormmate, clearly concerned by your uncharacteristic silence, glanced over at you as she packed her books. “You good?” she asked, hesitating by the door.

You gave her a half-hearted wave, plastering a smile on your face. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

She eyed you for a second longer before shrugging. “Alright, well, don’t forget about class later.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a long sigh. Alone again.

Your mind wandered back to the party. Aurora. Lorenzo. You couldn’t shake the way her eyes had lit up when she talked about him. How she had looked at him like he was the most fascinating person in the room. But why did it bother you so much? It didn’t make any sense.

Would they even look good together?

You sat up a bit, propping yourself on your elbows as you thought about it. Aurora was so petite compared to Lorenzo. The height difference wasn’t even cute—he’d have to bend down just to talk to her, and that would be awkward, right? And they were complete opposites. Lorenzo was calm, reserved, always thinking before he spoke. Aurora was bubbly, spontaneous, the type of person who filled every room with laughter. Opposites attract, sure… but them?

You groaned and flopped back onto your bed, hands covering your face. "What would their ship name even be?" you muttered to yourself. "Aurozo? Lorora? No, that sounds terrible."

But then your mind wandered further, picking at the insecurities you hadn’t let rise to the surface last night. Aurora was amazing, after all. She was sweet and smart, always knowing the right thing to say. She was pretty—okay, not just pretty, she was beautiful—and witty, always ready with a clever comeback. And then there was her personality, so warm and inviting that even the most standoffish people were drawn to her. She was perfect, really.

Too perfect.

You sat up and slapped your forehead, hard enough that the sound echoed in the empty room. “Talking to yourself now? Really?” you whisper-yelled, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. “That’s a new low.”

You lay back down, arms draped over your eyes as you tried to push the thoughts away. But no matter how hard you tried to brush them off, the uncomfortable tightness in your chest refused to leave.

It didn’t make sense.

Why did it bother you this much?

After classes that day, you were packing up your books when you spotted Aurora walking towards you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. There was something different about her today though—something nervous and a bit fidgety. She stopped just in front of your desk, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Hey," she said softly, biting her lip as if she was about to ask something big.

You tilted your head, sensing her hesitance. "Hey, everything okay?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "Can you… set me up with Enzo?"

Her words felt like a punch in the gut, but you masked it with a cheerful smile. After all, what kind of friend would you be if you didn't help her? She liked him—really liked him. And wasn’t it your job to make sure your friends were happy?

“Of course,” you heard yourself say, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. “I’ll help. Enzo’s great, and I’m sure you two would… get along.”

Aurora’s face lit up instantly, and she clasped your hands in excitement. “Thank you! I just… I didn’t want to approach him out of nowhere. I figured since you guys are best friends, maybe you could, you know, talk me up?”

You nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll drop your name.”

For the next week, you became Aurora’s biggest advocate when it came to Enzo. You wove her into nearly every conversation the two of you had, even when he clearly tried to steer things elsewhere.

“Did you know Aurora’s favorite flowers are tulips?” you blurted one afternoon while the two of you were studying in the library. Lorenzo looked up from his notes, blinking in confusion.

“Oh. No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, she’s got great taste. She’s really into plants in general, actually. She’s been thinking about starting a garden.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, clearly not following your sudden shift in topic, but he nodded politely. “That’s nice.”

You grinned, determined to keep the conversation going. “She’s super thoughtful too. Last year, she handmade Christmas gifts for all her friends. You should’ve seen the scarf she made me. Perfect colors.”

“Mhm.” Lorenzo hummed, leaning closer to his parchment, probably thinking you’d drop it.

But you didn’t.

The next day, when you met up with him for lunch, you brought her up again, like clockwork. “Aurora’s so smart. She absolutely aced her Potions essay the other day. I bet she could help you if you’re stuck on anything.”

“I’m actually doing okay in Potions,” he replied, glancing at you with a flicker of confusion. “But thanks.”

“You should ask her about it sometime though,” you continued, smiling brightly. “She’s great at explaining things. I mean, I’ve learned so much just from talking with her.”

Lorenzo hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. “You’ve been talking about Aurora a lot lately.”

You shrugged, brushing it off. “She’s amazing! You two would really get along if you gave it a chance.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod and looked down at his plate, clearly wanting to change the topic. But the next time he showed even the smallest interest in anything you said about Aurora, you latched onto it.

During a conversation later that week, Lorenzo mentioned that tulips were actually nice flowers. That tiny comment was all it took for you to believe he was finally taking an interest in her.

“See? I told you! You and Aurora have so much in common. She’d totally love to talk flowers with you.”

His eyes flickered with something, a mix of frustration and confusion, but he didn’t argue. He nodded instead, a sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

You beamed, completely oblivious to his hesitation. “I knew it! You’re going to be great together.”

For some reason, the idea of them getting closer felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch, but you kept pushing through it. This was what you wanted, right? To see your best friends happy. So why did you feel like you were slowly unravelling the more you pushed them together?

You sat in the courtyard, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of your robe. The cool autumn breeze swept through the trees, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was still preoccupied with everything Aurora had said, her excitement about Enzo, and how you’d promised to help set them up. But why did it feel so… wrong?

Aurora had stopped by just minutes ago, her face bright as she asked, "How's it going with Enzo?" You had forced a smile, nodding, “It’s going great,” before watching her bounce away, completely unaware of the growing knot in your stomach.

Moments later, Pansy dropped down next to you with a dramatic sigh, her usual smirk plastered across her face. "Why the long face, sunshine?" she asked, bumping your shoulder lightly.

You mumbled, "It's nothing," but Pansy wasn’t one to be easily fooled.

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Nothing? Or Miss Perfect just dropped by to say something stupid?” The nickname made you cringe, a flash of guilt creeping up. Aurora was your friend, and yet… every time Pansy called her that, it sparked an irritation you couldn’t quite explain.

“She was just asking about Enzo,” you muttered, hoping Pansy would let it drop.

“Oh?” Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What about him?”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the ground as you mumbled, “She wants me to set her up with him.”

There was a brief pause, and then suddenly Pansy burst out laughing. Like full-on, holding-her-stomach, can’t-breathe laughing.

You blinked at her, bewildered. “What’s so funny?”

Pansy wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head, still chuckling. “That’s so dumb. Aurora and Enzo? Together? Yeah, no. That’s never going to work.”

“Why not?” you asked, though the question felt hollow. Part of you had already started wondering the same thing.

Pansy smirked, tilting her head at you as if you were missing something incredibly obvious. “Even in an alternate universe where that might happen, it wouldn’t matter. Because Enzo likes you.”

Your brain screeched to a halt. You blinked, once, twice, before squeaking out, “Enzo what now?”

Pansy gave you a look that was part amused, part exasperated. “You heard me. Enzo likes you.”

You stared at her, not quite believing your ears. “What do you mean Enzo likes me?”

With a dramatic sigh, Pansy leaned back, crossing her arms. “You know, like when someone admires the other person and is practically whipped for them? That kind of like.”

“I know what like means, Pans,” you muttered, feeling your heart race. “But Enzo doesn’t like me.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “And the sky isn’t blue.”

You shook your head, still in denial. This had to be a joke, right? Lorenzo liking you? He couldn’t. He never showed any signs. Or… had he? You suddenly thought back to the subtle moments—his lingering looks, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him, the small touches, the quiet smiles. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

Suddenly, excitement bubbled up inside you. “Wait, are you serious?” you asked, your voice rising with hope. “Enzo really likes me?”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, obviously.”

You stood up, pacing as your mind raced. “But I can’t! What about Aurora?”

Pansy let out a loud groan, sitting up straighter. “What about Ravenclaw?” she asked, rolling her eyes again.

You stopped in your tracks, spinning to face her. “She likes him, Pans. I can’t just—”

“Oh, please,” Pansy cut you off, waving her hand dismissively. “I just saw her flirting with some Hufflepuff a few minutes ago.”

You froze. “What?”

Pansy smirked, clearly enjoying your confusion. “Yeah. So maybe she doesn’t like him as much as you thought.”

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the common room later that afternoon, determined to confront Enzo. You found him sitting with Theo, the two of them quietly talking. When you approached, both looked up, and Lorenzo’s eyes immediately softened at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you blurted, “You like me?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Theo snickered beside him, giving you a knowing look. “That was so obvious,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You stood there, frozen, as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. Lorenzo—your best friend, the person who had been with you through everything—liked you. He had liked you this whole time, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Lorenzo stood up, walking over to you. “I didn’t want to push you,” he said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I didn’t want to make things weird between us. But yeah, I like you. A lot more than just friends.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself grinning despite the whirlwind of emotions spinning inside you. “I… I didn’t know.”

He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I figured,” he teased lightly, “but I was okay waiting until you did.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lorenzo chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked at you. “Not an idiot. Just a little oblivious.”

Before you could say anything else, Theo groaned loudly from his seat. “Finally. Do you know how long I’ve had to hear him talk about you? It’s exhausting.”

You both laughed, and as you looked up at Lorenzo, everything just… clicked. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t noticed before, but now, standing in front of him, everything made sense.

ughh it took me so long to write but i did it!! my first enzo fic! hope you guys like it

[mosaickiwi]

For Two

Hello, content specifically catered to me. This might be the whole damn month.

Just an Angel that works at a BnB all alone with their stalker future spouse... :3c

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

You started your morning a little later than usual that Saturday, grateful for the extra half hour of sleep as you gathered ingredients. Only one pot of coffee to brew, one breakfast to make, one room to turnover while the guest went about their day touring the city.

You couldn't believe it. 

Normally, the weekend was completely booked. This one was too, except there'd been not just one, but six no-shows yesterday. Almost every single room at the inn was empty despite being fully paid for. 

Right at the usual check-in time, a single guest had shown up. Dressed in all black, a whole head taller than you, eyes that looked as tired as you felt from rushing around all day, and only a small duffel bag slung over one shoulder, they didn't look like the type of tourist you usually had this time of year. But who were you to judge?

The refreshments you set out didn't go to waste, though. He went back for seconds and thirds as you showed them to their room… then around the house… then around the garden while constantly on the lookout for other guests pulling up in their rental cars.

Oddly, he seemed more interested in you than the city. Rather than attractions on the pier or night life, the conversation flowed towards a few hobbies you found in common. Before you knew it, the sun had long since set, and no other soul had arrived for check-ins. You carried on with him a while longer, ending the night in a good mood despite the strange, once in a lifetime occurrence.

It felt like talking with an old friend. You wondered if the chat over breakfast would be just as nice.

The coffee machine loudly beeped, disturbing your current task. You stopped and poured it all into a thermos, then set it in the small woven carrier you'd prepared with a mug, creamers, sugars, and a pair of neatly wrapped shortbread cookies. You quietly took it up the stairs to your sole guest's room to set it at the door.

Just as you approached, the door opened with messy black hair and lightly flushed cheeks in greeting. He was the smallest bit shorter without the boots. No piercings in this early in the morning, but even his pajamas were all black. The tiny ghosts on his pants were cute. 

The man's blue eyes came to life at the sight of you and he smiled. "Mornin'," they spoke in that soft, raspy voice you'd gotten acquainted with yesterday.

"Beat me to it. Good morning, Ren." You smiled back with ease. "Did you sleep well?"

"Perfect, actually." They yawned, eyeing the basket in your hands as they stretched. "All that f'me before 7am.? Fuck, y'might really be an angel." He paused and rubbed at his lower lip. "Sorry."

You held the basket out to him. "I heard nothing. No worries," you said. It was hard to tell if he was apologizing for cursing or flirting. Was he flirting? 

He took the carrier, but still stood in the doorway, drumming his fingers on the sides as if thinking of what to say. "Soo… how d'you usually do these cute little coffee baskets for two people?"

"Two?" You hurriedly racked your brain. You were pretty sure his reservation was for one. He did have the door code already. Maybe he let his companion in late last night?

Did you need to make more coffee? Or tea? Did they have dietary restrictions you didn't know about for breakfast?! 

Shit, shit, shit. 

You never got to greet them and get their name and if they were still sleeping it'd be rude to wake them up just to ask and you couldn't expect a five star review anyways at this point but this—

"Ah, I meant…" The man interrupted your silent panic with a surprisingly nervous tone. He shifted slightly, fingers tapping even louder. "If ya wanted t'join me. I mean, I'm the only one here so I thought y'wouldn't be too busy with breakfast."

Ohh. He was flirting. Your job be damned. 

"Breakfast would have to be a little late… but if you don't mind, okay."

Ren smiled a lot brighter this time. "Great. I'll get changed and meet you downstairs in a few, yeah?"

You wanted to tell them there was no need to change with how adorable his PJs were, but kept it to yourself. You couldn't tease them like that yet. "Sure thing."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Angel

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!shy!probie!reader

summary: You and Buck have been acting weird since the night at the bar and the other members of the 118 get suspicious of your relationship

word count: 2k

part one part three part four part five

The kitchen was empty when you showed up to work. You had gotten there early to prepare the meal you were going to share together to thank the crew for being so welcoming. You had a big feast planned out and were really looking forward to everyone enjoying the meal you prepared for them and the time that it took to do so.

Not only had you wanted to impress Bobby, but you also wanted to impress Buck…maybe a little. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the night before and were suddenly really excited to see him.

It seemed like everyone entered at the same time and they all followed the smell of your cookies that had cooled down just enough. Buck was the first to enter the kitchen and he reached for a cookie, but you slapped his hand before he could get one.

“Damn, slugger,” he winced as he clutched his hand to his chest in a dramatic manner. You had every intention of letting him have a cookie, but now you kind of wanted him to work for it.

“Who’s slugger?” Hen asked as she got a cookie and took a bite.

“No one,” Buck winked at you. “Just an inside joke.” You felt your cheeks warm and you lowered your head, feeling your cheeks warm.

“An inside joke?” Eddie asked as he also got a cookie and took a huge bite out of it. “This is so good. What’s the occasion?”

“Yes,” you nodded your head. “And I just wanted to make you guys something to thank you.” You felt yourself becoming all shy again despite how close you were getting to everyone.

“You didn’t have to thank us,” Bobby spoke up as he entered the kitchen, followed by Chimney and Ravi, all reaching for the baking sheet, now the only one not with a cookie being Buck. “You’re family now.”

Your heart warmed at the words and you turned to Bobby who gave you a smile. You then turned back to Buck who was already looking at you, a smirk playing on his pink lips. You picked up a cookie off the sheet and handed it to him, your fingers brushing as he reached out to grab it.

“Well, since we’re family, I’m making you all my best dish. Homemade lasagna.”

“Sounds great,” Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze and Buck didn’t miss it, still unsure of whether or not something was happening between the two of you. He really hoped there wasn't.

“Is there going to be garlic bread?” He asked and you gave him a look as if to say "Really?"

“You're right," he chuckled. "Stupid question."

"Of course there's going to be garlic bread, Buckley. And salad and more cookies." You smiled to yourself proudly as you watched the rest of the crew devour the cookies you had gotten up early to bake.

"Good," Chimney spoke up. "Because these definitely won't last until dinner." He grabbed another cookie and chewed on it.

"Yeah," Ravi chimed in, grabbing another one as well. At that point, it was hard to keep track of how many there were to begin with. You were so glad you had doubled the recipe at the last minute.

Buck moved closer to you, letting his shoulder brush yours and you were still unsure of his intentions as far as you were concerned. You were still very unsure whether or not he was actually interested in you. Maybe you'd have to ask Eddie since asking Buck himself was definitely not something you felt ready to do.

Even though you were getting more comfortable with him since you had hung out at the bar the night before, you still didn't feel as close to him as you did to Eddie, who had become your closest friend in the 118. He was like a brother to you and you were very grateful to have him.

You turned in his direction, but you weren't thinking about him. Buck had invaded your mind and all you could think about was how you should have just taken the chance and kissed him in the elevator the night before like you had wanted to. You weren't sure how it would have played out, but you would have hoped that he would have returned it.

"Whatcha thinking about over there, slugger?" Buck nudged your shoulder and you immediately pulled your attention away from Eddie, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"Nothing," you shook your head.

"If you like him, you should say something," he said low enough for just you to hear.

"I don't like Eddie." And you didn't. Not like that, anyway. You were afraid you were starting to feel that way about Buck, though. But you were going to push those feelings down because you didn't think that getting involved romantically with a coworker was the best idea. You had seen that play out so many times and it never ended well.

"Well, it seems like you do with the hearts that were forming in your eyes." How were you going to explain that you were thinking about him and just happened to be looking in Eddie's direction? And it would have been just downright embarrassing to admit that you were thinking about kissing him. As far as you were concerned, you were going to take that secret to your grave.

"Alright, I guess I believe you," he nudged you shoulder one more time before grabbing one more cookie than heading over to the couch to take a seat.

Buck didn't understand how you couldn't see how he felt about you. Everyone else in the 118 could, so why did you seem so clueless? And why couldn't tell if his feelings were reciprocated? That was something that was so obvious to him, but you were just a big question mark. You were mysterious and he couldn't figure you out for the life of him.

He knew that you were shy and maybe he just needed to get closer to you for you to fully open up. But then there was Eddie. You were definitely close to him and Buck was definitely jealous of that even though he'd never admit it. Every time he watched the two of you, he felt sick to stomach and would suddenly be filled with anger.

He watched Eddie whispering something as the two of you sat on the couch, not even aware that he was crumbling his cookie in his fist, catching the attention of Chimney. He sat to the left of him, completely blocking his view of you and Eddie and maybe that was for the best.

“What’s going on, Buck?” Chimney asked and Buck just furrowed his eyebrows.

“Nothing,” Buck shook his head.

“Well, something clearly made you upset since you crumbled your cookie.” Buck looked down and opened his hand, the cookie crumbs falling to the table.

“It’s nothing, Chim, I swear.” Buck knew that Chimney was just looking out for him, but it just seemed like he was trying to pry and Buck didn’t like that. Not one bit. This was no one’s business but his own. And maybe yours if he ever got the guts to tell you how he felt.

“Well, let’s just say that if looks could kill, Eddie would definitely be dead.”

Buck sat with the words the entire day, deciding that he was finally going to tell you after work. He could see how it would play out so clearly in his head. He’d show up at your apartment and tell you exactly how he felt about you and you’d respond with a kiss before telling him that you felt the same way. You’d then invite him inside and the two of you would snuggle up on your couch and watch a movie, your night filled with nothing but kisses and giggles.

But all of that came crashing down when he watched Eddie chasing you around the firehouse. As soon as he caught you, he picked you up and spun you around, giggles spilling from both of your mouths. Nothing going on between you and Eddie his ass. He didn’t want to see the rest of the interaction and hurried to his locker to grab his stuff. He really needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

“Damn, where’s the fire, Buck?” Hen chuckled. “Got a hot date?”

“Something like that,” Buck muttered under his breath as he put the strap of his bag over his shoulder, making a beeline for his jeep just in time to watch you and Eddie exit the firehouse to the parking lot.

“Hey, Eds,” you called after him. Eds? Yeah, Buck was so fucked. “Can I get a ride to the bar? I left my car there last night.”

“Sorry, I have to go pick up Chris. But Buck should be able to.” Eddie was trying his hardest to set the two of you up and he was hoping that now he would finally be successful. He had hoped that leaving the two of you alone at the bar the night before would have made you confess your feelings to each other, but considering the fact that you weren’t acting like a couple, he was beginning to think that didn’t happen.

“Is that okay, Buck?” There was no fucking way that he was going to be in a car alone with you. You were a taken woman and he was afraid of what he would do. He wanted to kiss you so bad and he definitely wasn’t going to hurt his best friend by doing so.

“Sure, come on.” He nodded his head towards the parking lot and you followed him. He should have known that he couldn’t say no to you. Once you were both in his jeep, he sped off to the bar, simultaneously wanting you to be out of the car as soon as possible but also wanting to spend time with you. He couldn’t seem to make up his mind. Especially since it seemed like you were dating his best friend.

Buck was suspiciously quiet as he drove, maybe going a little bit over the speed limit. You looked over at him and could see that his jaw was clenched and he seemed very upset. What had happened that the man who never shut up had been rendered speechless? Surely it had been your fault, right?

“Buck?” You asked, turning to look at him again. He kept quiet, not even looking your way. “Buck, c’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“I bet it’s not. I know we’re not exactly close, but you can tell me, I promise.” His anger was reaching its peak as he pulled into the parking lot of the bar. He pulled into a spot and put the jeep in park before getting out, making his way towards the building. He couldn’t tell you now. He really couldn’t.

“Buck,” you called after him as you followed his lead, trying to catch up to him. “Buck, please,” you pleaded.

Now he felt like a dick. All you were trying to do was talk to him and he was treating you like garbage. You didn’t deserve that. Especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.

“You wanna know what’s going on?” He asked, turning around to face you. “Fine,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I like you, okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. Of course he liked you. You were friends, right? Unless there was some underlying meaning to his words that you were missing.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you stepped into the fire house and it’s driving me fucking crazy.” He was stepping closer to you and you were just trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. He liked you? As more than a friend? Since when?

“You like me?” That was not what you thought he was going to say. It was very common for the people you liked to not reciprocate your feelings, shutting you down time and time again. But this was different. Buck liked you. He liked you and as more than a friend.

“I do,” he nodded. “But don’t worry about it. I know you’re with Eddie.” Where had he gotten that impression? You and Eddie were friends. Just friends, absolutely no attraction between you. And Buck should have known that.

“Buck, I’m not with Eddie,” you laughed. “He’s just a friend. More like a brother, actually.”

“You what-”

“I like you,” you told him, taking his hands in yours. His eyes widened then he looked on either side of him, but you grabbed him by his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Yes, you, Buck.”

“But, what about-”

“For once in your life will you please just shut up?” You asked and pressed your lips to his. He gasped into your mouth but he eventually melted into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips slotted between yours.

It was soft and sweet and everything either of you could have imagined. His lips were just as soft as you were hoping and he seemed to pour all of his feelings for you that he had accumulated over the past few weeks into the kiss, making you feel nothing but special.

Just as he licked into your mouth, a rain droplet hit your cheek. You pulled away just as it started to downpour and Buck grabbed you by the hand and pulled you under the awning to shield you both from the rain and his lips found yours once again and he smiled into it.

“What?” You laughed.

“Nothing,” he pecked your lips. “You’re just an angel.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Christmas Grump

Summary: Walter has hated the holidays for many years, much to your chagrin. But this year you've got an idea to soften him towards Christmas.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: you hate the holidays and i love them.

Warnings: None. Please let me know if I missed any!

Walter has been on the force for long enough that he knows to expect the worst around the holidays. Good will towards mankind? Bah, humbug. He knows better. Christmas time is when the worst of the worst comes to the surface and he hates every moment of it.

You've been determined to temper his grumpiness at the holidays pretty much since the day you met, back when his beard barely had any greys to it. Unfortunately, Walter was just about as stubborn as you.

At the very least Walter didn't try to stop you from celebrating. You'd decorate the entire house, except for his office. And goodness knows he never complained about the extra baking you did this time of year. He could be the biggest baby about making sure he got "his share" of all the cookies and treats you made for the department. Some of his friends joked about him practicing for the role of Santa with how many cookies he would eat but he never let it get to him.

In truth, he had been warming to the Christmas holiday since you came into his life, but it was hard for him to still appreciate the moments in comparison to the years of holiday trauma he'd seen. It was actually one of the reasons he insisted on going shopping with you during this time of year. He could see your joy at the lights, the gift ideas, the cutesy holiday paraphernalia and he could keep you safe. More times than you knew he'd silently warned off someone who looked like trouble just by glaring at them. As much as he wished you'd pay better attention to your surroundings, he was very grateful you didn't see the world like he did.

Meanwhile you appreciated that he would go shopping with you because he could carry the heavy stuff and it gave you access to his big truck!

"You're sticking with me, right, big guy?"

Walter rolls his eyes, "in spite of my better judgment, yes."

You chuckle and playfully slap his arm, "such a grumpy old man!"

"I'm not that old."

"How old is Faye again?"

"Too old," Walter shakes his head. His daughter was attending college already and Walter was suddenly feeling his age.

You kiss his bearded cheek to distract him. "Well I, for one, think you've aged like fine wine. You're even more handsome than when we first met."

He snorts in disbelief, but lets himself smile at the compliment.

You're almost done with your shopping list. They didn't have the canned mandarin oranges for the cranberry relish, but you can do quick checks for them until it's time to start the cooking. Maybe they'll have the snack cups of them in stock if you run low on time.

Looking at the remaining few items on your list you stop to hype up Walter. "Okay, Walter, we're about to go into the toys section." He groans. "Hey, hey, hey, we're going to get through this. It'll be okay! We're just gonna get in, get a bunch of stuff for the toy drives, and get out. Right?"

"Right," he sighs.

"That was weak sauce, Walter! You can do better!" You cheer him on with a playful punch to the arm.

"Right," he repeats, more firmly.

"That's better! Let's do this! You keep close to me and watch my signals for when to stop, when to turn and when to get the hell out."

"Right!" he high fives you before you lead him into the overcrowded toy section.

Walter is on high alert. He's seen what happens when two or more parents fight over the latest popular toy.

You signal a few turns, wasting no time in grabbing some items specifically requested by the people running the toy drives. The bulk of toys donated were for kids between the ages of 3 and 11 so you made sure to go for the toys outside of those age ranges. Some baby chew toys, infant mirrors, board books and the like for the youngest ones. Sports equipment, sketch books, makeup kits and the like for the older ones.

Walter was helping you get some hockey sticks into the over-packed cart when you were both interrupted by a cry of "SANTA!" Suddenly Walter feels a weight around his leg and, as he looks down, he sees a toddler holding onto him like a baby koala.

"Hello," he says to the toddler. "Can I help you with something?"

The toddler looks up, eyes wide with wonder. "I got wost. Mama says 'no talk to stwangers' but you Santa! You can he'p me!"

Walter's eyes immediately soften and he effortlessly picks up the kid. "Are you here at the store with your Mama?" They nod their head yes. "Can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She's pwetty," they answer.

"I'm sure she is," Walter says with a smile. He turns to you, "do you think you can get to the customer service? Ask them to send out an APB, or whatever they do, for a parent missing their child?" You nod and get moving, hearing Walter say, "how about I put you on my shoulders and you can look for her?"

It takes you a few minutes but you're finally able to find an associate to help out. They send out a notice over their walkie-talkies and you take them back to where you left Walter. You have to fight the urge to coo when you see the large, grey-haired, bearded man with a toddler on his shoulders. You and the associate show up just as the toddler starts pointing and yelling "Mama!"

It takes a bit to calm down both Mama and toddler. Your heart swells to see Walter in his element, taking care of others. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him. He is a very kind, caring person who genuinely wants to help others. But he needs someone who can take care of him so he can keep going. You're happy to be that person.

As they little family goes off, the toddler waves, "bye Santa! T'ank you!"

Walter's smile widens and you can't resist, "so when can I start calling you 'Santa'?"

He gives you a stern look. "Never."

"I dunno, I think that kid was on to something," you tease.

"No."

"I mean, the beard, the big build, getting toys for kids..."

Walter grabs you and growls into your ear, "be careful you don't end up on the naughty list."

"I wouldn't mind sitting on your lap," you giggle. He takes a breath and you can feel his body stiffen at the mental images. "But, first, we gotta finish shopping. Let's go, Santa!" you playfully yell as you break free and get back to the cart.

You keep laughing as Walter gives you a look that promises a delightful punishment for your behavior.

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @changenameno; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness;

@kingliam2019; @lokislady82; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 1

Intro: Scarabia in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, attempted murder on Kalim's part, also proofread by quillbot

A/N: I tried making Kalim's longer but I really don't know what else to write for him. He's still a cutie pie though.

Masterlist

An invitation makes its way to your teeny tiny hands after a week of your reincarnation (transmigration, maybe; what isekai genre is this?). You can't read it yet, but your nanny informs you that Prince Kalim Al-Asim is inviting you to tea the next day, something about missing your presence in the palace. You don't believe a five-year-old even knows what "presence" means, but an invitation from royalty is nothing to scoff at. Immediately, you're suited up and shipped off to the palace for a glorified playdate. 

Luckily for you, Kalim isn't really much to be wary of, be it now or in the future. He's the sweetest of all the male leads, innocent and naive, and an easy level capture. You two have tea together, and you find him harmless enough that you don't mind continuing the weekly playdates that you'd previously canceled. You teach him things your tutor taught you over the course of the week, and it's really easy to treat him like a cute little brother. He, in turn, tours you around the palace even though he doesn't have it memorized, and you two sit together and make silly jokes while waiting for some maid to find the both of you when you're lost. At some point, he gets really clingy and even starts crying when you're away for too long. Your parents assure you it's fine, and the queen and king don't mind having you over often enough to the point that every other day you're by Kalim's side, getting tutored at the same time.

Maybe he's a little bit overly clingy, though, and you chalk it up to him imprinting on you like a duckling. Eventually, instead of coming to the palace on days you're free, it becomes a cycle of you going to him and him visiting you at your own house, where he insists you walk around the garden and teach him the names of plants you barely even remember yourself. He's adorable, and you don't see it changing any time soon. So you pat yourself on the back and tell yourself that's one capture target down.

"Kalim!" Your little body tackles the crown prince to the ground, an arrow barely grazing your ear. It hurts; it's bleeding, but you force yourself to smile because if you don't, Kalim will—

Oh no, he's already crying.

There's a lot of movement in the background as Kalim's guards move to find the assailant, but you're focused on the teary ruby eyes that are fixed on the wound on your ear.

"You, you're hurt...I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault, Kalim," you assure him, patting his head. Physically, you were younger, but you've always felt that this kid should be protected. "It's okay. We're fine. We're both still alive. That's all that needed to happen, right?" Kalim nods, but more and more sobs escape him as he clings onto you.

"I'll keep you safe from now on!" Kalim says through shaky breaths, and you laugh even when the wound hurts so much it feels like a mark burned onto your skin.

"Okay, Kalim. You can keep me safe."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

One playdate is a bit different from usual. You think it might be the new tea flavor served during snack time, or maybe it's different because your favorite cookies are occupying half the tray. Or maybe it's different because a pair of dark brown eyes are burning holes into the back of your head.

Jamil Viper is certainly a step up from Kalim—though he's socially of lower status, he was smarter, more cunning, cleverer, and competent at most things. As the second son of a baron, he'd been sold into the royal family as a personal aide to Kalim. In the game, he was a very difficult target, and his signature magic made for a much bloodier ending for the villain than Kalim's. But right now, he's just a five-year-old kid who's jealous that you get to have tea and snacks at the table while he has to stand next to Kalim and endure. You invite him to sit with you both after sending the maids away, and he begrudgingly accepts your offer, if only to bring relief to his tired legs.

Jamil isn't hateful, really; he's just pitiful. Maybe you can help him out a little bit so he doesn't betray Kalim like he does in the game, as Kalim is now your friend. You invite Jamil to more than just tea parties, and he learns to accept without a scowl. You manage to convince the king and queen to let Jamil study with you and Kalim, and the three of you find ways to pass the time in the enormous palace once classes are done. He might be warming up to you, you think, when a big bug flies towards him and you're the person he runs to, even though there are lots of adults around. Or maybe he just hates you and wants the bug to be up in your face. Who knows?

Kalim wasn't very academically inclined, though, and eventually, you and Jamil are being tutored separately from the prince. It hurts your ego a little that a kid is as quick on the uptake as you are, but Jamil's always been smart. He's resourceful too, and he always beats you at mancala, but he's good company and conversation somehow. And you decide, as you help plait his hair while he complains to you about how Kalim stormed into his room because he had a nightmare, that Jamil is harmless enough to be checked off your list of capture targets that will kill you.

Maybe.

"What do you want to be in the future?"

Jamil cracks one eye open to glare at you, huffing out a response. "Don't be silly." He closes it again. "I can only ever be Kalim's aide to the end, right?"

In the years you've known him, you know well enough that he didn't mean to be snippy. You pat his head and whisper back, your voice cracking funnily due to puberty. "You got an invitation to that magic school, right? When you become a really good mage, I'll talk to the king and queen for you." Being childhood friends with an Al-Asim meant they practically treated you as their own at this point. "I know you'll do great, so tell me what you want to be when you're free. What do you want to do?"

Jamil stops as he takes in your words. "You'd do that for me?"

"Sure I will."

"Then...maybe I'll go to the mage tower. And earn myself a title that's good enough to marry into higher nobility."

"Huh? Why would you want that?"

"It's a secret."

[jiniret-writings]

Warm Blankets Pt. 2

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Platonic!ot8 x 9th member!reader

Warnings: self-doubt, feelings of worthlessness

The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3

After buying snacks (and your favorite drink because crying really does numbers on your hydration), you headed back to your dorm and the minute you opened the door, you were met with quite the scene. The entire place looked like a scene from Alice in Wonderland: chaos in the kitchen, chaos in the living room, and something sounded like it crashed in the bathroom, but over it all, the dorm smelled delicious.

When you two walked deeper into the dorm, Minho was the first to look up from what looked like beating eggs. "Hungry?" he asked, pouring the egg mixture onto the pan. Truth was, you were starving. You'd skipped breakfast that day because of an early vocal lesson. Your stomach rumbled low enough for Hyunjin to hear who laughed lightly.

"I think we both are," he said, nudging you in more. Then, like a switch flipped, Hyunjin whined, "Hyuuuuuung! When will it be readyyyyy?" He flopped onto the island seat and laid his head on the counter, watching Minho cook. Minho glared at his younger member, picking up the spatula.

"When you're done cooking in the air fryer," he said in a monotone voice, flashing a Cheshire smile before dropping it and going back to the eggs. You laughed at them, sitting next to Hyunjin and across from Felix. Chan's words still circled your head.

It felt heavy, your head and your heart burdened with the hit of his words and the weight of your thoughts. It had been five years since Stray Kids debuted, yet the whispers never stopped. Comments circled online every month or so about whether you really fit into the group:

I don't know, it's just that the group might thrive more if it weren't for them.

Have you seen the new talker? See how they're off to the side most of the time? They're definitely going to leave the group soon.

I trust Chan and all but I don't know if he was right about them.

It was normal to get hate as an idol but maybe, just maybe, they were right? Hyunjin had reassured you that you were wanted and he was just saying whatever came to mind in his stressed state but, but maybe there were some truth to his words.

As thoughts raced through your head, you stared blankly at the counter. The boys around you looked at you worriedly, giving Hyunjin a look with one question: what happened? He hadn't told them why you had a bad day or what was wrong, but they still rallied to give you warmth and comfort. But you were worrying them. They just wanted the best for you and to do whatever it took to cheer you up.

Wanting to pull you from your thoughts as soon as possible, Hyunjin texted them the short version:

Chan-hyung said he shouldn't have fought for them to be in the group. 2RACHA are on placating duty.

With that sent, Hyunjin put his arm around you to not scare you, but the second you snapped out of your personal trance, Felix ran at you and tackled you to the ground. The little attack came as a surprise to everyone around, leaving them all frozen. The only sound being Felix's "lixie" sounds.

You were shocked as well, arms coming around the slightly older boy on instinct, but eyes still wide. "Felix?!? What was that?!?"

"I love you," he said, digging his face into your neck, causing you to hold in slight laughter because of how much it tickled.

"I love you too but what's this?" you asked, gesturing to the fact that the two of you were still on the floor. At that, he looked down at you, small pout forming.

"My love, y/n/n. Accept it," he said, leaving no room to argue. And in a flash, he stood up, pulling you up with him, and pointed to the pan he was working on with a big smile. "Look! I made brownies, cookies, and a cheesecake! Help me decorate?"

You wanted to refuse, to slip away to your bedroom to lie down and think--no matter how much of a bad idea that was--but the way he was looking at you like you were the sun, how could you not agree? Nodding your head, you walked behind the counter to where Felix was just starting to put on a final layer of frosting on the chilled cake. At that moment, Jeongin and Seungmin strolled. Seungmin sat in the seat you left and Jeongin came up next to you, putting an arm on your shoulder.

"I wanna help too! How do you want to decorate it?" he asked, pointing the question at you. You thought about it and your mind drifted to a movie you had watched recently.

"Lets do it Alice in Wonderland themed?" you asked, unsure if it was a bad idea. The voices around you did well ot drown out your thoughts but they'd pop up every now and again with a new sort of vigor. But with no hesitation, Jeongin just smiled and nodded. Felix brought out red and black food coloring, and started mixing it into different bowls of frosting. At that moment, Minho walked to you with a pair of chopsticks holding a piece of meat. He just brought it to your face and you opened your mouth without a second thought. It was like second nature: if one of your members was feeding you then it must be good.

Your members

The thought brought a feeling of warmth in your chest. Suddenly, tears filled your eyes. You looked away, trying to get them back under control. You shook away the ones that came up, but the warm tightness in your chest refused to let go. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and once inside, sat on the edge of the bath tub, letting the tears flow.

My members, you thought, letting the tears flow freely.

Back at the kitchen, everyone looked at each other, more worried than before.

"How bad?" Seungmin asked, turning fully to face Hyunjin. He just shook his head, remembering the fight he walked in on.

"Really bad. He was yelling and they were yelling and he suddenly just yelled it out. I grabbed them and took them out right after," he said, looking at all the boys. They shook their head, knowing what it was like when they poked the too-still bear.

"How is he?" Jeongin asked, knowing how this went. Chan cared about all of you, more than he could put into words. Jeongin knew it would only be a matter of time until the eldest realized what he said and started spiraling himself.

"I don't know. The others haven't texted but they're probably just keeping him occupied with work like he wants to be."

Seungmin looked towards the bathroom door, then to the pile of blankets laid out on the living room floor. The table in front of the TV had a cute pink table cloth over it so they could bring all the food out there to eat and watch your favorite show and movies. "Is the food almost done?" he asked, looking at Minho. He nodded and took the lid off of a nearby pot, giving it a final stir.

"Its all done. Just need to plate it and bring it to the table," he said. Jeongin took out the plates from the cabinet behind him and spread them out to make plating easier. Minho thanked the youngest by ruffling his hair and got to plating. Felix and Hyunjin in the meantime were trying to finish up the cake. Felix had just finished doing a slightly lopsided, but still made with love, checkerboard pattern and now Hyunjin was...it was hard to tell if that was Alice or the Cheshire cat, but either way, it was very "Wonderland".

When you walked out of the bathroom, having checked your eyes one last time to make sure they weren't red, you walked straight into Seungmin's back. When he turned around, he just smiled and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the mess of blankets.

"What movie should we watch first?" he asked, sitting you down front and center. The boys were each bringing out plates of delicious food and your stomach growled again, much louder this time. You blushed slightly, looking down. Seungmin just laughed and handed you the remote.

"What type of movie?" you asked Seungmin.

"Whatever you want. We're happy with anything," he shrugged, leaning back against one of the pillow piles. With the food finally set, Minho sat behind you, patting your head lightly. You leaned into his hands, which then started massaging your head. The other boys came around too, Felix sitting on your other side and Jeongin and Hyunjin sitting on either side of Minho on the couch.

Felix grabbed one of the blankets from behind you and draped it across your back so it was hugging you. He then started passing around the plates of food to everyone as you finalized a movie.

With everyone snuggled in, you watched the movie and ate happily, laughing with your members as they recreated scenes, repeated funny lines, and made comments throughout the entire movie. Finishing your food, you put the plate back on the table, passing Minho’s and Jeongin’s plates onto the table as well, before putting your head on Felix’s shoulder and snuggling close.

Felix smiled down at you, grabbing a duck plushie and putting him gently into your arms. You looked from the stuffed duck to Felix and back to the duck. You smiled at it and gave it a squeeze.

You suddenly felt a small pressure on your hand and turned to see Seungmin had scooted closer to you and put his hand on top of yours. He gave your hand a squeeze and gave you a small smile before turning back to the TV.

Now feeling someone pat your head, you looked up and saw Minho patting it softly. Next to him, Jeongin was looking through a bag of clips you hadn't seen before and was picking out all the clips in your favorite color. You looked forward again and the tears were building up again. You held them back as much as you could when suddenly, Hyunjin huffed from above.

Before you could ask what happened, the tall boy made his way in font of you, Seungmin, and Felix and just flopped on all three of you. You all groaned at the sudden weight, moving every way to avoid getting his by his arms and legs as he found a position that wasn't extremely uncomfortable. Once settled, he looked at you with a cheeky smile, that then turned into a soft one. He brought his hands to your face and wiped the few tears that had escaped. He didn't say anything further, just patting your cheek and turning back.

Everything was calm now, the second movie now playing. You felt warm, both outside and inside. You always believed actions spoke louder than words, and the way the members all cared for you and spent time with you, how could you not feel welcomed? This was your family. Now, this was part of your family. You still had three members that you know care for you too.

Chan's words still hurt and you weren't just going to blindly forgive him, but he was still part of this big and crazy family you found when you found them years ago.

"We're never letting you go, I hope you know that," Seungmin muttered next to you, now holding your arm. Felix and Jeongin nodded, Felix placing a small kiss on your wet cheek.

"Never. It doesn't matter what people online say or what's said in the heat of an argument. We're never letting go," Jeongin said, squeezing your shoulder for good measure.

"The big bad wolf was extra grouchy today, which means everything out of his mouth was a big bad lie," Minho said, kissing the top of your head.

"If he's the big bad wolf, who is little red riding hood?" Hyunjin asked, turning his entire body--eliciting a groan from you, Felix, and Seungmin--and looking at Minho.

Without missing a beat, he looked at Hyunjin and said, "You are, you're going to get eaten soon."

"Do I taste good?"

"Go into the kitchen and find out," Minho said, standing up and going to grab Hyunjin, but he was quick. He got off of you three and ran to the kitchen, and he and Minho had a mini chase around the kitchen island. You laughed at their chase, moved by the kind words and the usual shenanigans of the members.

Jeongin came down in front of you and laid his head on your lap, looking up. "You're a important part of our group, y/n/n. We all love you here." You smiled at the youngest and wiped the last tears before they could escape. The lull of the TV, the comforting sounds of chaos from the kitchen, and the warmth from the members around you made you feel safe, and stopping yourself from fighting it off, you fell into a comfortable sleep, the negative thoughts nowhere to be found.

Here's the second part! I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who has read and liked part 1. I didn't even think it would get as much attention as it did! I finished part 2 early so I figured I would upload it a bit early!

I'm in the process of writing part 3, but I hope to get it done soon! Part 3 will have a happy ending, so I hope you enjoy that when it comes out as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

Divider made by: @cafekitsune

Taglist: @neyangi

[userlando]

i am a starved woman with all the Lando content and.... the selfies ah... please if you can write some soft smut with him idk lazy riding him under the sheets while saying something funny, laughs interrupted with moans and all that intimate sex im weak for ma'am

ohhhh my god PLEASE I am a weak woman 💔

rustling sheets (1.7k words) lando norris/fem!reader fluffy smut nsfw

“Behave.” Lando says it lowly, jokingly with a sly smile on his lips that drives you just a little nuts.

You pout and pull your hand away, placing it in your lap as you continue staring at him. Maybe you’re hoping for him to finally give in, to disregard the fact that your hotel room is adjacent with George and Carmen and that management had managed to find a five star hotel for the entire grid to stay at, with the thinnest paper walls to ever exist.

Just a moment ago, you could hear the buzzing coming from George’s electric toothbrush and he’d already pounded his fist against the wall when you laughed a little too loudly at Lando’s ridiculous wet hair when he’d stepped out of the shower.

You’d tried to initiate sex two times now, but Lando had found your advances too funny to give in and so he’d made it his mission to give you the female equivalent to blue balls. Truth was, he was also a bit weirded out that you could hear everything through the walls because he made a lot of embarrassing noises when he was busy getting his rocks off.

Lando was loud and so were you, even if you claimed that you weren’t, and he wanted to be able to look his colleague in the eye tomorrow morning without thinking about how George knew what Lando sounded like when he came.

You were getting harder to resist though, sitting beside him in bed and looking so beautiful that he had to almost fist his hands to keep from reaching out to you. You were only in your pajamas, cotton blue ones that he was tempted to rip off of you because you were pouting. Like you'd reached for the cookie jar and he'd slapped your hand away.

He couldn’t see it, eyes staring a little too hard at his phone screen like he was reading something very interesting but he could very much feel your eyes boring into the side of his head.

“Lando?” You asked, the softness of your voice breaking the silence and Lando grunted.

“Yes, baby?” He tried to sound indifferent, casual and cool. Like he wasn’t growing hard at the gentle touch of your soft thigh against his.

You smirked, knowing that he was close to breaking his resolve because you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Finding anything interesting?” You asked innocently and Lando glanced at you a little questioningly. You nodded your head at his phone in his hands.

“Oh.” He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, just reading some comments from fans on today’s quali.”

As if that’s more interesting than you. You almost rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the sigh from escaping your lungs as you sat up in bed, tucking your legs under you with your body positioned in front of him. Lando wasn’t even sparing you a glance, and you wanted to get back at him so bad that you didn’t even give it a second thought as you hooked your fingers under the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head.

Lando made a noise in his throat that sounded a lot like a dying animal grasping for its last breath, and you blinked at him in mock innocence. His eyes were as wide as saucers, unblinking as he stared at your tits unashamedly.

“What are you doing?” He asked in a whisper, voice high and cheeks flushing a pretty pink.

“What?” You asked, looking down at your chest like you couldn’t figure out why he was reacting the way he was. “I’m warm, and you know I hate sleeping with a shirt.”

“No you don’t.” Lando said immediately, because you almost always slept without trousers but not a shirt. You knew he was a boob man, and fuck were they looking good right now.

His resolve broke and he was just about to toss his phone to the side and reach for your waist when you sighed dramatically, clambering to pull the covers over you and settle into bed. Lando stared, perplexed when you turned your back to him.

“Well, I am now.” You said. “I’m going to sleep now, can you get the light, honey?”

Lando narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, because honey? Really? You were really playing with him now and he didn’t care one bit that your antics seemed to have the desired effect on him, dropping his phone somewhere and scooting down on the bed. He could spot the smile on your face when he spooned you, pressing his entire front body against your back and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You wiggled a little, feeling his hard on against your ass and Lando opened his mouth to bite your shoulder in retaliation. It made you squeal with a laugh, squirming to get away from him but he had an iron grip on your body, arms tightening to keep you in place.

“I changed my mind.” He rasped in your ear and you giggled when he nipped the sensitive skin under your earlobe.

He tugged lightly on your torso until you turned around, raising your head up to press a kiss to his lips. Lando exhaled through his nose, a delighted noise against your mouth as he pried it open in order to taste your tongue.

You pushed on his shoulder in a silent request to lay down, making an effort to straddle him and sit up but the covers got all tangled up with your legs and it set Lando off into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m trying to be sexy.” You tried to pout but the smile on your face was hard to keep at bay because your boyfriend’s laughter was too contagious.

“Aw, baby.” He grinned, cheeks flushed as he reached for your head and brought you in for a kiss. “You’re still sexy to me.”

“Really?” You asked, like you weren’t straddling him and feeling every inch of his half-hard cock against your crotch. He must’ve had the same thought because his hips jutted up, making you gasp at the unexpected sensation. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Good girl.” He said, looking all too smug but he looked wildly hot as well and you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad when he tugged on the waistband of your shorts. “Now, take these off so I can fuck you silly.”

You scrambled to get them off, struggling with how you were sitting on top of Lando but he was nothing if not patient, holding back laughter until you were finally sat naked and pretty on his lap. His hand wandered down between your spread legs, fingers touching the wetness of your folds and pinching your clit just to hear you whimper.

Lando couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he got his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and allowing you to ride his fingers for a bit. You were in your own world, gasping and moaning beautifully for him with your torso all stretched out and tits on display. He blew out a breath, deeming you stretched out enough because if he waited for a moment longer, he was sure he’d blow in his joggers.

You pouted a little mournfully when he slipped his fingers out, but Lando didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up when he pushed his joggers and underwear off to get his cock out. He spit in his hand and slicked himself up as best as he could, but you were way more impatient than he was and it showed by the way you gripped him in your hand and guided him to your hole.

The moan you let out made Lando’s chest clench in absolute need, feeling him stretch you deliciously and you hunched forward to place both of your palms on his chest. The skin there whitened as you dug your fingertips into it, taking him to the base and quivering at the stretch and burn from the lack of lube.

You loved it though, moving your hips to establish a rhythm but Lando was quick to still you with his hands on your hips. You leaned your head forward to look down at him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“The bed is creaking.” He whispered, eyes a little glossy but wide. You laughed, grinding forward and immediately stopping when the bed gave off a protesting groan that you'd failed to notice earlier. “Fuck’s sake.”

You clenched around him, gasping when his hands dug into your hips.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He hissed, a desperation in his voice that made you smile.

You did it again, this time putting a little roll to your hips that had Lando’s eyelids fluttering shut as his eyes rolled back. He pressed the back of his skull against the pillow, the stretch of his exposed neck straining as he struggled to hold in his groan.

“What do you expect me to do?” You frowned, glancing at the floor beside the bed.

Lando followed your line of vision, eyebrows jumping like he just had a good idea. The unprepared squeal you let out was loud in the room when he turned the both of you around, pressing you into the bed and sucking kisses into your neck. It had you laughing and squirming under him, hands covering your face from the onslaught of attacks but he was quick to grab your wrists and pin them to the sides of your head.

“Want to shag on the floor?” He asked, lips brushing yours and you grinned up at him.

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Norris.” You pretended to fawn, giggling along with him when he dropped his weight on top of you.

Your hands quickly found their way under his joggers, gripping his bare arse cheeks in your palms and Lando groaned playfully against your cheek.

“What am I going to do with you?” He nuzzled his nose against your cheek and you smiled.

“I have a few ideas.” You whispered, pulling him against your body. “But we’ll need to be quick, before George puts his fist through the wall.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

let's pretend i didn't write this at work. but hey, i hope this is what you wanted anon! i had a lot of fun writing this, let me know what you think. ily all &lt;3

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 2

Part two of the Addams Family Steddie AU from this post! Anyway, here are five times Eddie gave Steve a gift plus one particularly special gift Steve gave him in return

I'll be honest, this one really got away from me LMAO

Also, @xjessicafaithx asked to be tagged if there was a part two so here ya go! I have a few more ideas for this AU so there might be more parts later too lol

One~

Steve is idly flipping through the mail he just pulled out of the mailbox, delaying his return to the house where Dustin is currently screaming about dice rolls over a Discord call, when he feels someone staring at him. His shoulders tense, and his grip on a junk letter creases the envelope as he looks up.

Crouching on the walkway leading up to a pitch-black house, elbows resting on his knees and a covered plate in his hands, is Eddie Munson. He's staring straight at Steve, eyes practically boring through him. When he realizes Steve has noticed him, Eddie perks up and balances the plate in one hand so he can wave with the other.

Steve hesitates before flashing an unsure smile and waving back. He thinks of the recently-washed plate that held the arsenic and chocolate chip cookies currently in his kitchen, waiting to be returned. Maybe he can return it now?

While he's thinking, Eddie has apparently taken the wave as permission to pop to his feet and walk over. And, well, he isn't wrong. It's not like Steve immediately started walking away after waving; he just kept standing there, locked in place by neighborly social conventions and Eddie's intense gaze.

"Good morning, Stevie," Eddie says, flashing that too-sharp grin at Steve as he leans on the mailbox. "You're looking particularly ravishing today."

"Ravishing?"

Eddie slowly looks him up and down, his eyes dragging along Steve's figure before finally letting their gazes meet once more. "Good enough to eat, really," Eddie replies, leaning in a little closer and making Steve's heart race with something that could be fear but is more likely embarrassment. Not that he wants to admit that. So, fear it is.

Steve laughs awkwardly and leans back, looking away and blaming the heat in his cheeks on the sun. "Uh, thanks. You, uh, look nice too," he says, glancing back at Eddie to take in the ripped jeans and short-sleeved black button-down (is that silk? It looks like silk) and chunky rings shaped like bats and skulls and coffins and wow, Eddie's fingers are kind of long.

Thankfully, Steve is saved from his mind wandering too far by Eddie shoving the covered plate into his hands. It's a familiar motion, and Steve almost laughs at it. "Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, letting his fingers brush across the back of Steve's hands before pulling away. "Anyway, Wayne baked more last night before communing with some spirits. He made too many eye of newt brownies, and I thought you'd enjoy them."

Steve blinks, looking down at the plate in his hands. "Eye of newt?" he asks, curiously lifting the tin foil to see perfectly normal-looking brownies inside.

"Yeah, they're to die for," Eddie says, his grin widening as he pushes off the mailbox and leaves Steve with a plate of brownies and a confusing feeling in his chest.

Two~

"She likes meatballs."

Steve blinks, staring at the concerningly large Venus Fly Trap in El's hands. Behind her, Eddie is smirking at him, holding his sister's shoulders and giving Steve an expectant look as El holds the flower pot out to him. The pot itself is also concerningly large for how she's holding it, and Steve can't stop himself from quickly taking the pot so she doesn't strain her back any more than she already has.

He grunts at the sudden weight when she lets go but doesn't drop the pot. Instead, he carefully and gently places it on the ground, silently letting out a breath of relief as the plant sways slightly in the pot, brushing against his hip.

The two had caught Steve when he was getting out of his car, his entire body already feeling heavy from work. His plan had been to go inside, do his best to not fall asleep standing in the shower, make Dustin dinner, and then pass out in bed until his alarm woke him again in the morning.

But instead, El had run over to him the moment he got out of his car, cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as she offered him the plant. Eddie had leisurely followed her over, amusement clear on his face as he watched Steve's brain struggle to catch up.

"Doesn't she eat flies?" Steve asks, looking down at the plant. For some reason, he feels like it's staring back at him.

El shakes her head. "Flies are not big enough. You should feed her one pound of meatballs on Wednesday and Sunday."

Cool. Great. Perfectly normal. It's not like Steve has had a Venus Fly Trap before, so he can't contest that. "Why are you giving her to me?" he asks, tearing his eyes away from the plant to look at El.

"Aunt Morticia took cuttings of her Cleopatra and sent us a few," El says, her tone implying that should be more than enough explanation.

Steve's expression, however, surely says differently. Thankfully, Eddie picks up on it and leans forward over El. "She'll make a great guard plant for you and Dustin, Stevie. Plus, she's almost as good a listener as I am," he explains, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, pointedly ignoring the second part of that explanation. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Nix," El tells him.

"Nix?"

"Yeah. Stevie," Eddie says, pointing at him before pointing to the plant and saying, "Nix. Because you said you like Fleetwood Mac."

Yeah, Steve did say that, but it was in passing, and he didn't think Eddie had actually heard him say it or paid any attention. It was said to Dustin while they were walking to the car, and Eddie had just happened to be sitting on his porch at the time.

But he did pay attention. And now he and El have given Steve and Dustin a plant whose name is a reference to Fleetwood Mac. Steve can't help a smile, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than just ten minutes ago. "Thanks, I know Dustin will love her, too," he says, feeling blinded by the tiny smile from El and the full-on grin from Eddie.

Three~

Nix likes to get sun, but she doesn't like being in the sun for too long. She also doesn't like staying still in the sun; she prefers to be moved around constantly, never staying in one spot for more than a minute if she's particularly patient. She also prefers to go on a sun walk right after eating her pound of meatballs.

These are things Steve learns over the course of three weeks through trial and error that often resulted in Nix snapping shut around his arm whenever he didn't immediately do as she liked. Steve had never heard of a plant having a personality before (especially not such a temperamental one), but he's come to find it endearing. Plus, carrying Nix around the yard does make for an effective workout.

So, on a very hot Sunday at the very end of June, Steve is carrying Nix around his backyard. Her pot is in his arms, sweat is dripping down his back, and Nix is helpfully trying to shade his head from the sun using her...head? Steve actually isn't sure what to call the top part of her. Is it a mouth?

"It's called a lobe."

Steve jumps, his grip on Nix's pot tightening as he whips his head around and sees Eddie crouching on the fence dividing their yards. He isn't even sure how Eddie manages it, considering how narrow the fence is, but he's also stopped trying to figure it out.

"What is?" he asks.

Eddie hops down, walking over to Steve and carefully taking Nix out of his hands. He continues walking around the backyard, and Steve doesn't even question following him. "This," Eddie says, pointing to the top of Nix's head. "This is called a lobe."

"How'd you..."

"You had a curious expression and were looking at Nix."

"You know my curious expression?"

Eddie looks over at Steve, a smile pulling at his lips and his eyes softening some, and Steve suddenly feels like he's drowning in the ocean and floating among the clouds. "I know all your expressions, Stevie," Eddie tells him.

Steve feels seen and terrified and...and utterly under whatever spell Eddie has spent the past few months carefully casting. He doesn't say anything about it, though. Instead, he rather dumbly says, "Oh."

The smile widens, and Steve finds himself wondering not for the first time what it would feel like to run his tongue over Eddie's too-sharp canines. "By the way, I got something for you, Stevie."

Steve blinks, watching as Eddie easily cradles Nix's pot in one arm and reaches into his back pocket. For a brief moment, Steve thinks he's going to pull out his dagger again. Last time, he'd placed it in Steve's hand and very seriously told him, "If you ever see me on the verge of death, take this dagger and stab it through my heart. I'd rather die by your hand than whatever else got to me first." He'd then showed Steve where he kept it, his smile bright despite his words leaving Steve speechless.

Eddie does not, in fact, pull out a dagger. He pulls out a tiny, leatherbound journal. The journal is black like everything else the Munson family owns, and a heart is carefully painted onto the cover with two skulls looking outwards and meeting at the jaws to create the heart's point.

Steve slowly takes the journal, the cover feeling soft under his thumb, and he looks up at Eddie. His confusion is made even stronger when he sees his bashful expression. Eddie uses his free hand to tug on a lock of his hair, habitually hiding his mouth behind it. "I, uh, write music, you know," he says, waiting for Steve to nod once before rushing out in one breath, "I wrote songs for you."

When the words actually register, Steve's eyes widen, and he cracks the journal open to a random page. Eddie's familiar scratchy handwriting crosses the paper. Steve can only just see a line about the arrows of fate and burning stars before Eddie's hand covers the page. "Maybe, uh, maybe read them later."

Steve easily agrees, and Eddie quickly changes the subject. After finishing Nix's walk around the garden, Eddie helps Steve return her to her room and returns himself to his own home. Steve watches Eddie through the window, waiting for him to go inside before opening the journal once more and finding the page Eddie had covered.

i'll throw myself before the arrows of your fate// take all your misfortune as the gift it is// piercing my ribs as you burn brighter than stars// unhindered by the despair i have stolen for myself

Four~

Eddie's hand is warm in Steve's as he leads him up the stairs of the Munson home. The halls are dimly lit by old lanterns whose flames make shadows dance across the walls, and Steve finds them more romantic than creepy. When they reach the attic, Eddie stops at the door. "Okay, some of them don't look like normal bats," he says, turning to look at Steve.

"Are you giving me one of the normal ones?"

Eddie nods once. "Yeah, the demobats are too unpredictable, and the hivemind doesn't help. You wanted one bat, not a swarm."

Steve hums softly, leaning closer and placing his free hand on Eddie's chest, right over his heart. "I would accept a swarm if you gave it to me, babe," he says, smiling reassuringly at Eddie.

His words are rewarded with an arm around his waist, holding him closer like Eddie wants to pull Steve under his skin and hold him in the spaces between his bones. "But I wouldn't get nearly as much attention then, Stevie," he replies, punctuating each word with tiny pecks that begin at his forehead, follow the bridge of his nose, and end on his lips in a lingering kiss.

Steve almost loses himself in it, but he'd rather not get carried away where Wayne or El could catch them. So he begrudgingly pulls away, playfully reaching up and tugging one of Eddie's locks when he pouts. "You know you're dearer to me than all the bats in the world, Eddie. Now, which bat is mine?"

Eddie's pout immediately becomes a grin, and he opens the attic door. It's dark as night in the room, the only lights coming from red eyes staring at them from the ceiling. Eddie keeps his arm around Steve's waist, keeping him close as he shortly whistles three times. A screech sounds from the ceiling, followed by the flapping of wings and a bat flying out to land on Eddie's outstretched arm.

With his foot, Eddie shuts the door as he holds the bat in front of Steve so he can get a better look. The bat is small, no more than three inches, and its nose looks vaguely like an upside-down heart. It tilts its head, studying Steve in return as it shifts on Eddie's hand. "Isn't she cute?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles and holds his hand out to the bat, a few seconds passing before she moves from Eddie to him. "Yeah, she's really cute," he says as she surveys her new spot. She shifts a few times before pushing off Steve's hand and flying to his shoulder. She settles close to his neck, a warm softness against his skin partially hidden by his hair. And then she chirps, sounding like the squeaking of sneakers on a gym floor.

"She's an African heart-nosed bat," Eddie explains, starting to pull Steve down the stairs again. "They're very territorial, and they mark their territory by singing."

"Is that what she's doing?" Steve asks, raising his free hand to gently brush a finger against her head. She humors the touch for a few seconds before gently nipping his finger, not breaking the skin but clearly getting across that he shouldn't touch her anymore.

"Yep," Eddie says, grinning at Steve. "So, what are you gonna name her?"

Five ~

Hulyet buries herself in Steve's hair as he stares at the floor-length black dress Eddie holds up. She apparently picks up on Steve's confusion and slight concern, decides something is invading their territory, and begins singing aggressively in Eddie's direction.

The sudden squeaks and chirps break Steve out of his confusion, and he can't help a laugh. He reaches up, gently stroking her back to reassure her that everything is fine, and asks Eddie, "What's with the dress?"

"All Hallow's Eve is approaching," Eddie says, "I thought we could go as Dracula and his bride."

"Am I the bride?"

Eddie pauses, looking at the dress for a moment before looking back at Steve. "I haven't figured that out yet," he admits. "If you don't want to be the bride, I don't mind it."

Steve blinks, suddenly realizing this is Eddie trying to plan a couple's costume for Halloween. A familiar warmth floods through him, and he can't help smiling. He studies the dress, coming to the conclusion that he doesn't mind wearing it. For Eddie, of course.

Well, actually, he also thinks it looks hot.

"Okay. Let me try it on," he says, holding out his hands. Eddie lights up, handing over the dress and looking at Steve expectantly.

Well, there goes changing in the bathroom. Steve sighs, feels relieved he wore briefs, and strips down. Hulyet grips tighter to his hair as he moves, chirping once in indignation before settling once more as Steve wiggles his way into the dress.

It's tight, but not overly so. The material hugs curves Steve didn't even know he had, and the neckline plunges between his pecs and stretches into off-shoulder sleeves. The very bottom of the dress flares outward in a spiderweb pattern formed by lace. He takes a few experimental steps, relieved to find his movement isn't too restricted by the dress and fascinated to discover the spiderweb at the bottom stays perfectly spread out.

"How's it look?" Steve asks, turning to Eddie only to find that he'd moved right behind him at some point. He startles, taking a step back and getting his foot caught on the back of the dress. Before he can hit the floor, though, Eddie catches him, arms around his waist and holding him in a dip.

Steve's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breath short as he tightly grips Eddie's jacket collar and tries to ignore Hulyet painfully yanking on his hair. Eddie grins at him and says, "You look enchanting, Stevie. I would have fallen on my knees to worship you if you didn't beat me to the falling part."

Steve snorts and relaxes his grip, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck instead. "How long are you planning to hold me like this?" he asks.

"I could hold you as the world burns to ash around us. Even after we die and have decomposed, our skeletons will still be wrapped around each other, forever locked together."

From anyone else, Steve thinks he would worry about being murdered. But from Eddie, Steve just thinks it's one of the most romantic things he's ever heard, right alongside everything else Eddie has ever said to him. "That sounds perfect," he says, happily smiling into the kiss Eddie gives him.

Plus One~

"Fucking hell, Steve, stop bothering me about this!"

Steve frowns at Dustin, slouching on the couch as he anxiously turns a velvet box over in his hands. Dustin is laid out on the floor with a bowl of cheese puffs, his head resting on Dart's back as the demodog naps. "You're such a supportive brother," Steve says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dustin scoffs and throws a cheese puff at Steve's head. "I was plenty supportive the first fifteen times! Just fucking give him the ring already," Dustin says, returning the stuck-out tongue that Steve sends him before looking down at his phone and typing something. "Dude, it's Eddie. You could give him a used soda can and he'd give it a fucking pedestal in his room."

Okay, yeah, Dustin has a point. That doesn't make Steve any less nervous, though. He forces himself to take a deep breath, pushing down his anxiety long enough to say, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Literally, when have I ever been wrong, Steve?"

"Shut up."

Dustin flashes a grin just as Eddie's familiar rhythmic knock sounds against the door right before he opens the door. "By the way, I told Eddie to come over so you'd stop bothering me," Dustin tells him, his grin widening as Eddie saunters into the room.

"All right, gremlin," Eddie says, nudging Dustin with his foot, "get out."

As Dustin practically bolts from the room, Dart right on his heels, Steve decides he's going to make zucchini spaghetti for dinner so Dustin is forced to suffer through vegetables.

"So, whatcha got there, Stevie?" Eddie asks, perching on the couch next to Steve and looking pointedly at the box in his hands.

Well, there's no escaping it now.

Steve takes one more deep breath and opens the box. He pulls out the ring inside and presents it to Eddie. It's smaller than the rings he normally wears, but the sterling silver band is engraved with bat wings and an anatomical heart is carved into the garnet on top. A small, almost imperceptible clasp can be found just under the garnet. "I found it at an antique store with El and Max," Steve explains. He hesitates before carefully pushing the clasp to reveal a compartment just beneath the garnet. "It's one of those poison rings."

Eddie is uncharacteristically silent as he takes the ring, carefully shutting the compartment so he can turn it over in his hands. Once he's fully inspected the band and garnet, he pushes on the clasp and studies the size of the compartment. Finally, he slips the ring onto his left ring finger, his sharp canines coming into full view as he grins. "Yes, of course."

"Uh, yes what?"

"You're proposing, and I'm saying yes," Eddie explains, taking Steve's hand and bringing it to his lips. He kisses Steve's palm before lightly dragging his teeth over it, and Steve thinks he shows incredible character growth by not jerking his hand away.

His brain catches up a few seconds later. "Wait, proposing? This wasn't...I just...we've only been dating for three months?"

Eddie hums softly in agreement, sliding Steve's hand to his cheek and leaning into the touch. "I know," he says, "We've shown incredible restraint so far. Most Munsons get married within weeks of meeting their loves."

Honestly, that doesn't surprise Steve at all. Who could resist the Munson charm? Who could say no to the all-consuming devotion that shows no sign of ever fading? Steve's mouth suddenly feels dry. "Right," he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheek, "That, um, that's just a little fast, I think."

Eddie's smile doesn't fade one bit. He just nods, his eyes glowing with understanding and love and Steve's weakening resolve practically crumbles when Eddie says, "That's okay, Stevie. As long as I can see you and be near you, I don't care about anything else. You could put a knife through my heart, and I'd thank you for the chance to get a closer look at your eyes."

Steve...Steve is fucking weak. He abandons any idea of maintaining a distance between them, climbing into Eddie's lap and kissing the cheek he isn't holding. "It's not an engagement ring, but...but consider it an engaged-to-be-engaged ring," he says, the words feeling ridiculous as he speaks them.

But that doesn't matter because Eddie practically lights up. "Is that a promise? That we're engaged to be engaged?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice soft, "Just wait at least three more months before you propose, okay?"

Eddie's grin gets even wider, and he presses a searing kiss to Steve's lips, leaving him breathless and light-headed and absolutely sure Eddie is already planning his proposal.

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Hey! I’m new to requesting so sorry if its not the best idea.

Maybe a reader who lived in a small village during when the beasts still roamed, but the reader was obvious about what they look like. And when the beast become corrupted, the only village that was not touched was the readers. But then the reader finds out that the 5 cookies that would come over a lot to visit the reader during and after the corruption are the beasts and therefore the reader cookie gets scared and flees the village? Sorry if this is long it’s just an idea I’ve had rotate in my mind since the beast yeast release

English is not my first language sorry for the bad spelling

You often times had visitors in your little village, 5 mysterious Cookies. You were the local baker of the village, and they always came to seek you out, wanting to munch on the treats you had. Sometimes, they'd come all at once, sometimes alone, sometimes in duos.

They often paid you way too much, or gave you way too many nice items in exchange for your baked goods. You often tried to stop them, but they never took no for an answer.

But then.. the Beasts began to roam, causing chaos and destruction wherever they went, tearing things apart, slicing Cookies down.

You more often than not confined yourself into your bakery. Those five Cookies would still visit, though they were a little different. You didn't heed it, though. Times were different now.

Then.. all that remained was your village. Slowly, you put two-and-two together and fear filled you.

You fled. Ran as far as your legs could take you as you heard panicked and angered screams. Shrieks from the Beasts. Raging about how they should've taken you before.

You ran, ran, and ran. Hiding in places you could until, finally, word came out about how the Beasts were sealed away. Carefully, you emerged from your hiding and went to a place you hoped was safe - the Silver Kingdom.

Surely, you'd be safe there..

[lowkeyrobin]

hi could you please write smth about accidentally revealing your relationship with quackity? preferably with cc!reader <3

of course!! thanks for the request 🫶 ; ik I did a preference about accidentally revealing relationships but doing a little different thing and going in depth w it was fun!

QUACKITY ; softlaunch ❌ hardlaunch ✅

summary ; you and Alex accidentally reveal your relationship

warnings ; language, little bit of buzzed ranting, use of pet names (babe)

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Alex have been together for about ten-ish months, keeping it on the low since you'd been traveling around for QSMP meetups, events, and the Streamer Awards for a little bit.

You'd finally gotten home, your shared apartment with Alex, with Cellbit and Roeir tagging along. The three were planning to make a 'trying mexican candies' video in the morning while you were planning to edit and maybe stream til you felt tired enough to quit and sleep. The three guys sit out in the living room, watching some TV show as they sprawl out on the couch, buzzed from the aftermath of award winning.

You were more than proud for your boyfriend, but it being so late now, and your need for comfort after being overstimulated for hours on end, called for a little alone time. You sit in your office, the clock reading 1:30am as you hit the Go Live button on your stream.

You decided to chill out behind the closed door, just chatting with whatever viewers were still awake at this hour, or were just beginning their day, depending on timezones. After five minutes, you greet your chat, snacking on some cookies you'd picked up from the store before returning home earlier, a glass of milk sitting on your desk next to the plastic box.

You sit in your very comfortable chair with a QuackityHQ hoodie, with the signature duck in the corner and design on the back, and some long, patterned pj pants, colored dark blue and black with a floral design. They were thin enough to wear in the warm heat, which was perfect for you. You looked tired but didn't really feel that way, like your eyes were sewn open from adrenaline and happiness.

"Good morning, everyone" You chuckle, "Alex just won an award, feeling good! He, Cellbit and Roier got some drinks and have been watching TV on the couch, so sorry if you can hear them. I closed the door just in case but don't mind any shouting or music"

Your chat explodes with messages, congratulating you, even though you lost in your category, and spamming hearts and heart hands emojis. Someone sends in a small donation, asking for clarification why they were at your house.

"Oh, Alex didn't wanna drive all the way back to his place and he had his car parked here from earlier. He drove the other two and we all left together. They're staying the night" You nod, clarifying with a little bit of lying, not wanting to slip up.

You'd known for a while that Alex was just a secretive person over the smallest things, and he didn't know why. You were totally fine being open about your relationship with friends, but made sure to respect boundaries for him. He reassured you in his own panic that he wasn't embarrassed to be with you and didn't want to hide his love for you often.

He explained it in simplest terms as he was weirdly secretive and he didn't want his weirdo stans attacking you or only watching you for him, he didn't want to ruin your fanbase that you built from the ground up. You'd been friends since forever, a good percentage (if not all, then most) of your fans also watched Quackity's content, which kind of made sense to you, but you didn't question it.

"But yeah, it was fun, just like... there were so many people, and so much was happening all at once and shit. I'm just trying to calm down and get tired." You lightly smile, taking a bite of one of your cookies. "I'm so proud of everyone who won and everyone who was nominated, good night for everyone"

You sit and talk to your chat for a while, occasionally listening to the trio's laughter outside your office. Before you can even snap your head around to inform whoever entered that you were live, they were already speaking, slightly laughing, and stumbling.

"Babe, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I accidentally dropped one of your plates in the kitchen and it fucking shattered everywhere, I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up, I just wanted to tell you than wait for you to notice and make you mad, I'm sorry, Y/n/n"

Your jaw hangs slightly agape, and you stare with a silent expression. You slowly turn back to your stream, the chat absolutely exploding with messages. You saw probably a hundred first time chatters even making an expression about it.

"Lex, I'm live" You speak between your teeth, muting your mic. "Ah- uh, it's, it's fine"

He quickly regains his composure, staring over at you, then looking over to your PC, showing that you were a thousand percent live and five thousand people heard him say that. By the morning, it'd be all over Twitter and YouTube Shorts and TikTok, people were already clipping it.

"Shit"

"Alex, holy shit"

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, trying to rationalize what to do. Cell and Roier bust into the office as well, seeing both of you silent before asking, where you both talk over each other very loudly to try and explain.

They both look over to your monitors, confirming you were live. They both laugh in a light hearted way, looking to Quackity.

"You're cooked, dude"

"Rest in peace"

"You say that like I'm embarrassed to be with them, I mean, it's not like that... I think. Y/n, are you embarrassed to be with me? I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I wanna post pictures of us on adventures and experiencing shit so people can see us for us and what we are-"

"My brother in Christ" You sigh with a chuckle, rubbing your temples. "It's said and done, it's fine. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you" You turn back to your stream, unmuting yourself under the red LED lights and lamp on your desk.

You sigh and shrug before speaking, throwing your hands up halfway in defense.

"Y/s/n real"

[literaila]

still here 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation 

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue 

*

there's this little thing called stress baking. 

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed. 

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients. 

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to. 

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention. 

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it. 

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions. 

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram. 

not that these brownies would agree. 

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good. 

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him. 

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard. 

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine. 

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight. 

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking. 

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault. 

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor. 

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird. 

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off. 

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned. 

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home." 

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home." 

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?" 

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home." 

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin. 

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back. 

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear. 

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up. 

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you. 

you turn back to the brownies. 

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive. 

"sure?" 

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes." 

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it." 

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet." 

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again.  you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question. 

what are you hiding? 

"we have some ice cream, too." 

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him. 

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge. 

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor. 

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending. 

"peter?" 

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you. 

he swallows. "yeah?" 

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright? 

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?" 

you raise a brow. 

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out." 

you nod. "okay." 

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close. 

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him. 

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.” 

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.” 

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small. 

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.” 

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin. 

* 

it's not that serious. honestly. 

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it. 

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck. 

you're not thinking about it at all. 

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine. 

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to. 

peter has obligations. 

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there. 

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks. 

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine. 

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine. 

but you miss him. if only momentarily. 

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does. 

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do. 

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day. 

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read). 

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world. 

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again. 

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back. 

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything. 

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store. 

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out. 

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation. 

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough. 

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there. 

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up. 

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again. 

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep. 

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else. 

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it. 

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here. 

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands. 

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up. 

it's for him to know all of this. 

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again. 

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window. 

you want him in more than just your memory. 

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

*

peter's not supposed to be home. 

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red. 

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room. 

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask. 

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"  

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled. 

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later. 

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded. 

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?" 

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry." 

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits. 

you bite your lip and look away. 

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks. 

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top. 

you can hear peter moving. 

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear. 

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp. 

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting. 

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--" 

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?" 

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me." 

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too." 

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it." 

"well, i'm going to." 

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man." 

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore." 

peter scowls. "stop deflecting." 

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back." 

*

and you are. 

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it. 

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole. 

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation. 

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that. 

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you. 

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had. 

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by. 

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely. 

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late. 

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him. 

you're trying not to frown back. 

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?" 

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone. 

"good." 

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room. 

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes. 

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home. 

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual. 

besides the facade you're putting on. 

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about." 

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?" 

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time." 

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie." 

you frown. "i'm not lying." 

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay." 

"i'm fine, peter." 

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know." 

"well, you do." 

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head. 

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you. 

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him. 

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you." 

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have. 

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny. 

"what?" 

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world. 

"what?" peter repeats, but softer. 

you open your eyes. 

and then it all crumbles. 

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him. 

"like what?" 

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day. 

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting." 

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there. 

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--" 

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me." 

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?" 

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much." 

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left. 

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off. 

"you're not too much." 

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer. 

you couldn't push him away if you tried. 

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that." 

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too. 

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head. 

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper. 

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel." 

"that's all easy." 

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before. 

you shrug. 

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why." 

"it's the sex." 

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me." 

"no?" 

"absolutely not." 

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream. 

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck." 

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his. 

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks." 

"for me too. it's not your fault." 

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know." 

"okay." 

"do you promise?" 

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter." 

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much." 

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals. 

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt. 

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

[saltnsugarbear]

Giving each other small smiles across the room with Conrad maybe friends to lovers trope

definitely not my best, but I actually love Conrad Fisher soso bad

word count: 0.6k

content warnings: none other than a silly prank!! bugs mentioned!!

You've know Conrad for forever. At least that's what it feels like.

Your mom met Susannah when you and Conrad were little. The Fishers have been a fixture in your life since then.

Meeting the Fishers meant meeting the Conklins. All of your mothers became quick friends which made all of you kids quick friends.

Being closer to Conrad and Steven's age made you part of this smaller group between you five. Being the oldest meant automatically having more say in any matter.

However being part of the older kids group meant you got to be part of the pranks.

Usually you had a blast with these. Helping Steven and Conrad scheme with how they could pull something on Jeremiah or Belly. Over the years you've come up with some plans that had been Hall of Fame worthy.

Some of them were intricate beyond belief, some were incredibly juvenile.

This one you're a little worried about though. It was mostly harmless, Taylor and Belly weren't going to end up in any harm, if just a little embarrassed. And this one ended up being Steven's idea, so you were prepared to drop all credit if necessary.

Steven had thought it would be a great idea to buy cookies from the grocery stores bakery, and plant a realistic fake cockroach among the cookies. His plan hinged on the timing and the girls wanting one of the cookies, leaning more room for error.

So with Steven and Conrad getting the fake cockroach, you picked up the cookies from the store and set to plating them in the Fishers kitchen. The two older boys snuck in the house with ease, even with the girls down at the beach.

"Wait, wait, lift one," Steven says, sidling up beside you against the counter. Conrad comes up on your other side, leaning with his hands on the counter. If he ever mentioned how you leaned against his shoulder, you'd say you never noticed.

You lift one of the more obvious cookies, watching as Steven tucked two cockroaches in between a few cookies. With the fake bugs in place, you put the top cookie back and make sure they're unnoticeable.

Almost as if on cue you can hear the girls walking up the path with Jeremiah. The sound of them getting closer causes you and the boys to scatter, you and Steven running to sit at your spots at the table and Conrad ducking into the mudroom.

You and Steven start some menial conversation while you wait, paying no mind as the girls walk in.

"Oh hey Jere," Steven says off-handedly before continuing your conversation. It's a minute before either of the girls notice the cookies.

"Ooo," Belly hums, spotting the cookies first. "Are these for everyone?"

"Huh?" You ask before looking over at her. "Oh, yeah. Susannah dropped them off before she and mom's went out."

You're playing the part of having no knowledge of the prank perfectly, complaining about your schoolwork to Steven.

"Oh, what the fuck!" Taylor shrieks. Belly squeals as well, dropping her cookie on the counter.

All the noise draws Conrads attention, walking into the kitchen and feigning innocence. "What? What happened?"

"There's cockroaches in the cookies!!" Belly exclaims while Taylor fake gags over the sink.

"Oh..." Conrad says, looking at the plate on the counter.

Without much second thought, Conrad grabs one of the cookies from the plate. One of the ones on top of the fake bugs. He takes a bite out of it and shrugs, "Tastes okay to me."

His laid back mindset makes you snicker. Your giggling across the room makes him perk up and look in your direction. At your amusement, Conrad grins, showing you the cookie still in his mouth. The overwhelming sense of dorkiness coming from him makes you smile wider, crinkling your nose at him. Despite this, Jeremiah and Steven make fake gagging noises, causing you to roll your eyes.

If there was one thing you loved the most about Conrad, it was that he knew how to make you smile. Really smile.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Oh I got a good one!

Remember AU prompt 5? Well Imagine all the other fallen take an interest in the reader and they all begin fighting over them?

Request Prompt #33 - ✦💓

You couldn't be in any more of a pickle now. Apparently, you've figured out since we last left off from, that this is a seal dimension. A dimension specifically created by the witches in order to contain some very specific beings. And to be honest? You were currently considering just crumbling on the spot from anxiety. Because out of all the cookies you've seen here( aka, like, five you think?) you're the only one that's normal sized! How fun. ( Disclaimer: it is not fun, you are fucking terrified. ) You can already hear two of them fighting, well, so far it's only verbal so at least you aren't in too much danger. All you have to do is stay hidden... stay hidden... stay hidden. You open your eyes, the forest around you has changed again. You also could no longer see the other two cookie's arguing, you're pretty sure that their names had been Burning Spice and Mystic Flour? You weren't sure. But you did know that they were arguing about you. Or more specifically, how you got here. You sneak out from your former hiding place, the forest had definitely changed your location. It just... did that sometimes, that's why it was so easy for you to get lost. Whenever you hid from something in the shadows there was a good chance that the forest around you was going to change again. " Oh I'm terribly sorry for the wait, little star." You heard a voice echo through the forest. You froze up- what the heck forest? Weren't these strange teleports supposed to get you out of danger? I mean, that's what they did before, right? You were immediately seize with a gasp by a large hand made out of shadows, it slithered up speedily into the tree where it deposited you into the equally large hand of a certain individual. You cast your gaze up into the gigantic eyes of Shadow Milk Cookie, which stared at you with interest and amusement. In hindsight, maybe you should have stopped hiding in the shadows. " Aw, what's the matter little star?" He cooed, poking at your cheek. " Are you not happy to see me? That's very disheartening, you know?" He spoke in that kind of tone that you'd use with a baby or a small animal, you know the one. " I don't think I'd be particularly happy to see any of you." You retorted, earning a cackle from the gigantic jester. You knew more about the beasts than you did when you arrived here after all, and you knew that Shadow Milk was basically embodied deceit so you barely trusted a word he said. And yet, he seemed to have a genuine interest in your safety... If not only for his own personal goals. At least, that was your reasoning as you figured that if he was the one triggering the teleports, then he'd at least be looking out for you, right? You heard him sigh. " You know, you seem to love making things more complicated for yourself, hm? Now all the others know about your existence within the seal, and that's making things more rough for you, riiight?" He drew out that 'i' sound just to tease you, but you knew there was at least some truth to what he'd said. You nodded in reply, flinching at the sharp grin he gave you. " Welll~ It turns out I have just the solution for that! If you stick with me, then you'll be safe! No more of that 'running away' business." He offered, but you knew there'd be a catch. " But! In return... You have to help me get free and back out into the world, 'kay?" You hesitated, you'd doom the world as you knew it if you let him out, right? Did the world out there even exist as you knew it now? You have no clue as to how much time has passed since you zapped yourself in here. Shadow Milk was looking at you expectantly, and you didn't want to find out what would happen to you if you rejected his offer. " O... okay, I will."

[soulsforsales]

You take care of the Moon boys when they are sick <3

Warning/triggers: mild angst, fluff, fluff, fluff (just a lot of it <3), no use of Y/N, google translated Spanish

A/N: I had so much fun writing this ;)

Steven

You wake up to the sound of Steven coughing. He's in the kitchen making coffee for the both of you, as always. You walk up to him, hugging him from behind and trailing kisses down his neck.

'Good morning, hon,' you whisper, 'Good morning, love.' Steven feels hot, well, he is hot (duh) but right now he feels heated up.

Your brows furrow as you move beside him, 'Are you okay?' You ask but Steven abruptly pulls away from you and sneezes, covering his face with his elbow. 'Do you have a fever?' You ask again, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. 'No, I am fine,' he says shaking his big hands that were partly covered by the long sleeves of his t-shirt in front of his face. He coughs again.

'No you are not.' You say, taking the coffee cups from his hands. 'Love, you don't - 'Steven.' You don't give him the chance to finish, 'get in bed. You should rest, no work for you today.'

'I'll bring you coffee and cookies and meds you are sick, you need rest.' You tell him, already working on the coffee. 'Alright...' Steven says before kissing you on the cheek and making his way to the bed.

You walk up to Steven with a tray of coffee, the cookies he liked the best, and his meds. He sits up in bed, 'Love, you didn't have to -' 'Of course, I had to,' you say, sitting next to him in bed.

You two spend the rest of the day cuddled up in bed, binge-watching your favorite TV shows and movies.

Your head is placed on Steven's shoulder, kissing his neck and jaw. Steven was touch starved, you knew it and you'd made it your mission to give him all the touch he'd ever missed having.

'Don't you have work, darling?' Steven asks. You grin, 'I'm calling in sick,' you tell him as your lips meet his. Steven looks into your eyes, 'if you keep going on, you will have to call in sick,' he says. You kiss him anyway. 'That doesn't sound so bad to me,' you whisper, his nose brushing against yours.

By the evening, Steven has taken a good five hours of sleep while you completed some work. He feels much better when he wakes up and walks up to you. 'Let's get out of here,' he says, placing his chin on your head. You turn to him, taking your glasses off, 'you sure? Do you feel better?' You ask. Steven smiles at you, 'tons. Thanks to you,' he says, kissing your head.

You both grab your jackets and walk out of the apartment. You spend your time strolling in a park, eating burritos, and drinking hot chocolate.

It's a nice day but being with Steven makes it perfect. Everything feels perfect when you are with him. He's undoubtedly the best thing that ever happened to you.

You love him so much, you could burst from the feeling alone.

By the time you reach Steven's apartment, you have sneezed three times (you know because Steven was counting) and Steven's getting worried.

'I told you, love' he says when you are standing in front of the apartment door, 'you are going to catch a fever staying close to me. Look at you now,' he sounds concerned. But you chuckle, throwing your arms around his neck, 'it's fine,' you tell him, 'it means more cuddles and hot chocolates after all, doesn't it?'

Steven's concerned for you but you look so cute smiling like this that he can't help but smile with you. 'Maybe,' he says, pulling you closer by the waist.

Marc

You wake up with Marc sleeping next to you. He's cuddled up with you, his head resting on your chest. It's weird because usually Marc's up and about before you are. Reading the newspaper or grocery shopping or simply going on a walk. But today he was here and you liked it.

You push your fingers through Marc's hair and kiss his head. He feels warm. Marc always feels warm when he wakes up but today he is burning up.

'Marc,' you whisper, close to his ear - not wanting to wake him up. 'Mhm-hmm', he replies, nodding into your chest. 'Are you okay?' You ask. He looks up at you, his brown eyes looking like pools of honey in the sunlight streaming through the window. 'I'm fine.' He replies gruffly. His face is red. Awfully red.

'Are you sick?' You ask again, placing your palm on his cheek, 'you're burning up,' you mutter. 'No. I said I'm fine,' his voice is rougher than usual. He is absolutely sick.

Marc tries to move away from you but you wrap your arms around him before he can, he grumbles but ends up cuddling with you anyway.

Your sweet, grumpy boyfriend, oh, how you loved him.

Both of you stay like that for some time. But eventually, you have to get up and go about the day.

Marc wants to go to work. You tell him he can't but he wouldn't listen to you.

'Babe, you're sick.' 'No, I'm not.'

'I checked your temperature, honey, you need rest. And medicines.' Marc makes a face at you. 'I told you -' 'Marc,' your voice is much more stern now. 'Please, Marc, babe, it's one day. Stay in bed, yeah?' This time he doesn't argue.

You know Marc's stubborn but you won't let his stubbornness get into the way of his health.

You put his favorite soup for cooking and go out to get some medicines for him. Thankfully, he stays in bed.

When you come back home, Marc's fast asleep. You watch him like that. Sleeping so peacefully, like a child.

You know why Marc's the way he is. He didn't have a... great childhood. Well, let's be honest, he had an awful, traumatizing one, and for a long time, he has taken care of himself all alone.

You can understand why it's hard for him to ask for help or even accept help and love when it's given to him. It's hard for him to let people in, to let himself be taken care of.

But Marc is your boyfriend which means that somewhere, somehow you did something right and he let you in. And just like that, you will let him know that it's okay to let you care for him. That it's okay to be vulnerable in front of you, that he doesn't have to hide anything.

You make some coffee for yourself and get in bed with Marc. You are sitting up, reading a book and his head is in your lap, your fingers moving through his curls.

You drop the book after some time just to admire the person in front of you. He was so beautiful it made your heart flutter. You could look at him forever.

When Marc wakes up after a few hours he's still grumpy and tired.

'Just take the medicines, love,' you insist. Marc shrugs, 'Don't need them. I feel fine.' 'Marc-' 'You don't have to worry about me,' he cuts you off.

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes. You don't mean to cry but it happens anyway. You are not irritated, you are not tired of Marc. You could never tire of him. But you are scared. You are scared that he won't let you help him and it'll get worse. It's just a fever but you can't help but want it to go away and Marc to feel better.

Marc's expression softens when he notices the tears in your eyes. He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, 'I'm sorry,' he says, 'didn't mean to sound like that,' he takes the medicines from your hand.

After that Marc doesn't fight it. He lets you give him a massage, eats what you cook for him without a word, and by the time he takes a hot shower he is feeling very much better and his fever's gone.

It had been... a day. For Marc and for you. He has been quiet and angry the whole day but at night, finally, he smiles at you, wrapping his arms around you.

'Thank you,' he whispers into your hair. You are sitting in his lap, 'you don't have to thank me, Marc,' you say taking his face in your hands. Marc sighs, 'I know I can be... difficult. I just-' 'No you're not,' you interrupt him, 'not to me... ever,' you say.

Marc smiles, 'I love you,' he whispers before planting a kiss on your lips. You want to reply and tell him you love him too but he's kissing you with everything and you don't want to break the spell.

Jake

You come home to find Jake in the kitchen. He's cooking pasta, you can tell by the smell. Or maybe he's just heating up the pasta you made this morning.

You practically run across the house to get to him and plant a kiss on his cheek, hugging him by the side. 'Hello, babe', you say. But your smile drops the moment you see him. His eyes aren't set and sharp as they usually are, instead they are tired and he looks a bit lousy.

You are confused if it's Steven who's fronting but you know it's Jake when he says, 'Hola, cariño,' he smiles at you.

You push yourself between the kitchen counter and Jake, taking his face in your hands.

'You look tired,' you say. He coughs a little before replying, 'goddamn fever. But don't you worry about it, princesa.'

'You should rest, Jake, what are you doing?' You say, taking his hands in yours. 'Apparently, Khonshu's freaky armor can't protect you from diseases -' he sneezes and curses under his breath.

Okay, Jake hates being sick. He doesn't like it. It makes him feel weak and really soft and pathetic for some reason.

You take off his hat and ruffle his curls with your fingers, saying, 'How about you take some rest and I'll get the food? Get in bed, hm?' Jake smirks, snaking his hands around your waist, 'You really do want me in your bed don't you, mi vida?' You roll your eyes at his comment but a blush creeps up your neck. 'Did I forget the part where I said you need to rest?' You say, a smile tugging on your lips. He frowns.

'I don't need rest. What I need is a good fu- 'Jake' you stop him mid-sentence, glaring. 'What?' He shrugs and walks into the bedroom.

You sigh. Your breath going at a rapid speed. Jake really is good at getting to you. He makes you want to kiss him all the time. But, despite everything, Jake always puts things off, neglecting his needs. Like, right now. He won't admit that he is sick. He wouldn't let you look after him but you have to.

You care for him. Deeply. And you have to make sure that he's okay.

You walk into the bedroom with the pasta plate in your hands. Jake's on the bed. He's removed his shirt, and his bare skin glistens in the dim light.

Your breath catches in your throat.

'How do you feel? You ask Jake, sitting by him on the bed.

He mumbles something and wraps his arms around your waist, his head in your lap.

'I am tired, cariño,' he finally admits after a few moments of silence. You smile, 'I know,' you say, raking your fingers through his soft curls, 'It's alright,' you tell him. He lets out a weary sigh and snuggles closer to you. Your back rests against the wall.

Jake doesn't really spend a lot of time with you. He is barely ever fronting. He isn't much of a talker either, he expresses his feelings with his actions more than his words.

It has been some... work, trying to understand Jake. He's like a puzzle you can't solve, but you want him to know you're trying. Because you love him and he deserves everything.

Your eyes fall on Jake's broad shoulders and their slight movement as he breathes. You move your hands to touch his neck. His skin is still hot despite taking the medicines.

You massage his back in slow, brisk movements. For a moment you think he might fight it but he doesn't say anything,

'Feels good?' You ask. He nods in reply.

Jake is different when it comes to the three of them. Unlike Marc and Steven, he's never had a... life. He's always inside, barely ever fronting. He thinks of himself as only a protector of the system. That he's someone Marc needs when things get worse. You don't want him to think of himself like that.

You want Jake to know that he's just as deserving of love as any of them, that he's more than just a protector. He's more than just the worst parts of Marc turned into a person.

He's soft and loving, and the most amazing person you know.

Jake moves, sitting up in bed beside you making you stop abruptly.

'You don't have to go driving tonight, you know?' You say, sitting in front of him. Partly on the bed, partly on his lap, the inside of your knees draped around his thighs.

'Yo se,' he replies with a sigh, 'but I still have to go be the fist of vengeance.' You frown at his comment, 'You deserve a day off I think.' It makes him chuckle.

'Give me your arm,' you whisper, taking his arm in your hands. You thought a good massage would make him feel better.

But, apparently, this isn't what he wants. Jake wraps his palm around your wrist and pulls you to him. Your hands resting on his chest and your faces inches apart and then, he plants a kiss on your lips.

Somehow you trying to give Jake a massage turns into a hot make-out session. Not that you had any complaints. If this was what he needed then you'd give it to him.

Afterwards, you two lay on the bed, your head resting on Jake's shoulder. He's playing with your hair.

He isn't feverish anymore but his skin is still warm.

'How do you feel?' You ask him now, 'Maravilloso, mi amor.' He says and you chuckle as he kisses your jaw.

You might not know everything about Jake but you know that you love him. So much. And that's really all that matters.