#probably a summer ficlet

[girlwithakiwi]

like freedom, like rosemary and thyme

Take a cancelled flight (or five). Add two stubborn people who refuse to ask for directions when they get lost, a dog having a damned good time playing chaperone in the backseat, and far too many motels with blinking NO VACANCY signs

This is not the trip that Daenerys wanted.

(But perhaps, as it turns out, it is the one she needed.)

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

[animezinglife]

Sounds of Summer

Time seems to move more slowly in the Summer Court, and Lucien and Elain take in every second. A short scene of the two in Summer.

Genre: Romance/Fluff Post-canon Elucien ficlet. Special thanks as always to @lucienarcheron and @zenkindoflove for the continued support. I hope this brings you both peace and warmth this weekend. Elucien Masterlist | AO3

Time has always seemed to move more slowly in Summer. The thought strikes Lucien again now as he takes in Elain’s sleeping form. The sheets are draped over her in a near-tangled mess; her golden-brown waves fanning out around her on the pillow and one strap of her nightgown falling slack over her shoulder. She breathes deeply; serenely. At first, he doesn’t move, committing the sight–committing her–to memory. While she’s always beautiful–the most beautiful female he’s ever seen–seeing her slumber like this tugs at the quieter side of their bond. The side he’s been able to sense in her from the start, and that she’s sensed in him.

He silently curses the fact they have to wake at all.

Already, they’ve slept in, the sunlight and salty air from the massive, open doors filling their suite with mild heat and a hint of salty mist. She stirs slightly, a quiet, content hum barely audible over the sound of the sea outside. Gently, he brushes a strand of hair from her face, a small smile crossing his face as her brow furrows slightly.

“Elain.” His voice is low, still groggy from his own sleep. Her eyelashes flutter slightly though her eyes stay closed, and when she doesn’t move, he leans into her and brushes a kiss against her hair. She doesn’t wake–not entirely, anyway, instead letting out a small huff in complaint and turning onto her side so that she faces him. He can’t help the smirk that forms on his face at that, and he slides the strap of her nightgown back into place on her shoulder before lowering his lips to her forehead. He peppers small kisses to her cheek and jawline as he feels the approval she sends down the bond, and he rests his lips near her ear to murmur quietly before kissing her there, too: “They’re going to wonder where we are.” Another kiss as goosebumps rise on her skin. “What we’ve been doing,” he adds pointedly, and if he’d ever had a doubt that she’d begun feigning sleep now, the color that flushes her ears and her cheeks is enough to confirm her act.

Her eyes flutter open then, fawn-brown meeting his under those heavy lashes. Though she’s blushing at his implication, a small, sleepy smile crosses her face. Mother, he’ll never get used to this: waking up beside her, that subtle but addicting scent of honey and jasmine, and feeling her warmth. 

Feeling the bond that hums between them, peaceful and content.

They’d stayed out late the night before–each night they’d been here in fact, after long days filled with a mix of meetings and sightseeing. Tarquin and Cresseida both had taken to Elain instantly, and Lucien was almost certain that if emissary business hadn’t often called them and if they hadn’t shared a bed, the princess of Adriata would’ve claimed as much time with her new friend as she could.

It was almost funny, Lucien thought, how easily his mate had charmed the High Lords and ladies of each court. How easily she’d found that balance of navigating politics and building trust–the latter of which seemed to fall quickly to the others genuinely liking her and calling her a friend. Cresseida had been no exception despite the watchful, calculated distance she had kept from the two of them at first–something Lucien had picked up was likely still a reservation from what had happened with the Night Court. While Elain had been given as much of the backstory as he had, she had met Tarquin and the princess with an easy smile and manners that charmed them and quickly had the latter gossiping about less political matters.

Lucien had still managed to steal her away though, or more accurately, Elain had managed to steal him away from the politicking and courtly social affairs. They’d made their way to the beach together after dinner the night before and walked alongside the water, letting it wash over their feet and Elain soak up the sights, sounds, and feeling of it. She had taken his hand and half-led him there, and given his hand a squeeze as they’d stopped, watching the sun sink below the horizon. 

When propriety hadn't required them to join Tarquin for meals, they’d ventured out on their own to sample the local cuisine from a different, less courtly perspective. They’d explored countless shops and gardens; several bakeries that specialized in pastries with sea salt, chocolate, and caramel. Lucien hadn’t hesitated to show Elain to all the locations he could remember where the rare, tropical flowers of Summer bloomed, and at the sight of them her face lit up. She had clutched his hand and led him over to one plant in particular before he could react, leaning in towards its petals and taking a long, deep breath to sample its scent, expressing how much she’d loved the hints of orange, jasmine, plum, and amber.

When Cresseida had stolen her away the next morning to talk over colorful drinks, Lucien had returned to the shops until he’d found a perfume in the scent’s perfect match. He’d gifted it to her last night, and the sweet, gentle scent still lingers on her neck and wrists.

He lowers his lips to her neck then and she giggles, her arm looping around his neck lazily and tracing a line down the back of his bare shoulders.

“So persistent,” she says, her voice every bit still as tired as his sounds. But there’s a lightness to it he doesn’t miss, and when he meets her gaze again, she doesn’t hesitate before pulling him to her and pressing her lips against his own. 

The kiss is as slow and lazy as the waves below. It’s coaxing; savoring and slow, even as she angles herself to deepen the kiss and traces his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. He’s too aware of the hem of her nightgown rising as she hooks a leg lazily over his waist. His hands find the curve of her waist–barely concealed by that thin silk–and pulls her soft frame against him. The small sound she makes nearly undoes him there, but he savors every bit of her he can take in: the taste of her lips, her scent, and soft curves against his body as they lay tangled there. He both hears and feels her heartbeat synching closely with his own as his hand trails over down over her hip, giving her a light squeeze that makes her breath catch before continuing down her bare thigh. 

“I could get used to this,” she breathes against his lips, and he lets a small smile cross his face. She nudges the tip of his nose with her own–a gesture that sends a memory flooding through him of the first time she’d done so, and his amusement that had followed. That strange human gesture–as though she’d mimicked a curious, playful fawn–still floods him with warmth. ���Being here with the sun and sea. I never thought I’d see the ocean again, you know.”

“I’ll bring you here anytime you like,” he murmurs, and she gives him a soft smile.

“I know.” She kisses him again, this time more earnestly with her hand sliding to the side of his neck and down the slope of his exposed shoulder. When they separate briefly, he sees the twinkle in her brown eyes just before she pushes him then, climbing over him as his back draws flat against the sheets. He lets out a low laugh as she lies across him and kisses the corners of his mouth and jawline. When her lips find his scar he breathes her in deeply; his hand brushing her hair off her back and wrapping those golden-brown waves once around his hand. 

“I’ll take you anywhere, Elain,” he whispers, and he doesn’t miss the caress she sends down the bond. It’s as though his mind and entire body react to it, too, whatever deep magic of that bond or their souls intertwining together and offering both a content, satisfied glow. 

“I know that, too,” she says, and she rests so that her face is hovering barely an inch above his. She brushes a strand of his hair off his face, and he traces a strand of hers that he still holds in hand. “I’d go anywhere with you, but right now…” Her voice trails as she shifts, and he senses her intentions changing before her body gives any sign. Her cheeks flush slightly, and he commits the sight of it to memory–all of her to it. His free hand slides down her back knowingly, her scent changing quickly and his own body entirely too near to giving his own wants away. Yet he stays still and he watches her until her eyes pose a question. As her full lips quietly speak the words he’s already hoping he might hear. “I just…want you.” 

He doesn’t wait for her to continue. He catches the back of her neck with his free hand and kisses her again. Softness turns to hunger, and the strap of her nightgown falls from her shoulders again she returns his intensity. 

His warmth.

His desire.

His love.

His mate.

He doesn’t care what hour it is. He’ll give her every second, every minute, every hour he can.

The Summer Court will have to wait.

[omg-i-think-i-like-you]

"Love your tuches," Eddie said when Steve got up to get a soda from the fridge.

"Gosh, that tuches of yours," Eddie whispered when Steve sat on top of his lap.

"The most beautiful tuches on earth," Eddie declared when Steve left his trailer to go to work.

It's been happening for a while, Eddie using this unfamiliar word to compliment him, he thinks? Steve was wondering about it during his solo shift on Saturday afternoon. Robin was away with her family and the store was empty and quiet.

"Hello to the greatest tuches owner in Hawkins!" Eddie announced, walking loudly into Family Video.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve smiled. Eddie leaned across the front desk to plant a quick peck on Steve's lips, and then pulled himself over it and landed between Steve's arms, stumbling a little.

"How are you hanging, abandoned by your other half?" Eddie asked, sat on the staff's chair and started swaying from left to right.

"She didn't abandon me," Steve stopped Eddie's repetitive motion and placed himself between his legs, "and I'm fine, thanks." He pushed Eddie's hair behind his ear and stroked his cheek softly.

"Of course you are, now that I'm here," Eddie said with a teasing smile, Steve rolled his eyes and squeezed Eddie's cheeks, and then kissed him on his nose. Eddie moved his face up to meet Steve's lips when the doorbell rang. Steve immediately pulled back and turned towards the door. It was Dustin.

"Steve, Eddie! Great to see you both," he greeted and leaned on the counter. Steve and Eddie both rolled their eyes, and Steve sat back in Eddie's lap.

"What do you want, Henderson?" Steve asked impatiently, his hands crossed on his chest.

"I have to rent a movie," he said, his eyes wide and begging.

"Okay..? That's the point of this store. What movie do you want?" Steve got up and went out from behind the desk towards Dustin, whose eyes lit up. Steve knew that look.

"No." He said firmly.

"Please?" Dustin put his hands together and started going down, Eddie chuckled.

"You two are adorable," he said and grabbed his jacket, "but I'm not staying for this fight, tell me who won, Stevie." He kissed Steve on the cheek on his way out and disappeared into his van.

Dustin was on his knees now. "Please??" Steve shook his head, and Dustin stood up again. "Steve, come on! you know Suzie is coming and I promised her we'll watch a movie!"

Steve blew air out of his nose, and started tapping his foot, "Yes, I know she's coming, you can take any other movie! I legally can't rent you anything from that section. Choose something else."

"But Steve! I told her my friends work at the video store and can give me any movie I want!" He stomped his feet, "Robin would've let me." He crossed his arms, upset.

"No she wouldn't?? Robin is a lot more strict than me," Steve threw his hands, "Have you ever spoken to her?? She's like a police offic- Wait." Steve stopped and fixed his hair, trying to think. "Robin isn't here... Aha!" He exclaimed, and ran back behind the counter, "I have an idea, but you have to keep it between us two, Dustin, do you promise??"

Dustin giggled and put his hand on his chest, "I swear, no one will know of this encounter."

Steve rolled his eyes again, only pretending not to like Dustin's endearing dramatisation of mundane situations, something that always reminds him of his boyfriend.

"Listen, I'm gonna make a deal with you," Steve opened, leaning towards Dustin and lowering his voice, "I will let you rent any movie you want, only!" He emphasized, "If you never tell Robin," he counted on his fingers, "and if you help me solve a mystery."

Dustin's smile grew, "Deal! already promised I won't tell anyone, and you know I love mysteries," he clapped and ran behind the counter before Steve could stop him, "what are we solving?"

"Okay," Steve put his palms together and pointed towards Dustin, who placed himself comfortably on the chair, "So Eddie's been using that word recently, and I have to figure out what it means," He said, and started pacing around.

"Okay? what's the word?" Dustin asked, curious.

"That's the thing, I've been trying to pronounce it but I can't make that sound... I think he uses it as a compliment? maybe it's from your fantasy game?" He wondered out loud, avoiding Dustin's question.

"Steve, if you don't tell me the word I won't be able to answer all your great questions," Dustin said and received a warning look for Steve, causing him to raise his hands, like proving his innocence.

Steve pinched his nose bridge, "I think it's like... too... toohes?" He eventually said, and sighed in frustration, "That's not what it sounds like!" He stomped.

Dustin started laughing, "Say that again!" Steve just looked at him, his eyes burning, and he stopped laughing at once. "Never heard it in my life," Dustin said, shrugging, "Definitely not from DnD, or anything I know Eddie's interested in. maybe it's from a song?"

"No..." Steve shook his head, "I heard his metal enough and I never heard that word before he randomly started using it..." Steve buried his face in his hands, "So you have no idea?" He peeked through his fingers.

"Nope," Dustin said and jumped off the chair, "Now give me that movie."

Steve stood there, defeated, while Dustin picked his movie. He rented it on his own name and Dustin had to rip it out of Steve's hands. He almost fell when he succeeded pulling it.

"Why aren't you asking Robin?" Dustin asked then, hugging the VHS like his life depended on it, "She always brags about how her ears are geniuses or something, I bet she'd know."

Steve looked at him, and almost jumped across the counter to strangle him. "Go away! before I take that tape and burn it." He couldn't believe he didn't think of it himself. He watched Dustin shove the tape in his bag, run out of the store onto his bike, and disappear into the sunset.

---

"Robin!" Steve barged into the Buckley's house approximately 24 hours after Dustin left Family Video. Robin was spread on the couch and stared at the TV, letting the game show run while she was dozing off after a nice and heavy lunch. She jumped when she heard Steve, her heart pounding.

"Steve?! what the fuck, you scared me," she stood up with her hand on her chest.

"Sorry, listen, I really need your ears- I mean help," Steve smiled and walked closer to her, robin's curiosity was awakened.

"My ears, you say?" She raised an eyebrow, "What is this about?"

Steve gestured with his head towards the stairs and started walking upstairs, Robin behind him, "What is this about, dingus??"

Steve entered Robin's bedroom and crashed on the bed, Robin stood above him, "What's wrong with you today? you're acting weird."

"Robbie," Steve raised himself, resting on his elbows, "it's Eddie..." He opened, releasing a sigh. Robin sat next to him.

"What happened?" she asked softly, "Did you fight?"

"What??" Steve chuckled, "Of course not! You'd know if we did. We're madly in love, don't worry," he said with dreamy eyes and Robin pretended to barf, Steve flicked her calf. "It's just... He's been saying that word, I think it's a compliment, and I'm trying to find out what it means, and Henderson," he said through clenched teeth, "after being absolutely no help, suggested I'd ask you, since you have genius ears, or something." He smiled sweetly and Robin giggled.

"I'm flattered, even though you didn't come straight to me," she hit his shoulder, "and I'd love to help, but why don't you just ask him?"

Steve gasped dramatically, "and give him the upper hand?? Absolutely not. I will figure it out. He can't win here."

robin squinted at him, "You do realise it's ridiculous, right?"

"Don't care," Steve sealed his lips and looked away, with a hurt ego and too much pride.

"Gosh, fine!" Robin swallowed another giggle, "I'll help you, what's that word?"

Steve sat up, placing himself in front of robin and held her knees, "Okay, it's definitely in a different language, I can't fully pronounce it but I'll try, okay? And don't laugh," he raised a warning finger, "it's like, toohes? toohhes?" He tried to emphasize the middle sound, Robin had to try really hard not to laugh, "The H sound sounds more like-" He then proceeded to make a sound like he was violently clearing his throat and Robin lost it, bursting into uncontrollable laughter and ran away from Steve's flying hands.

"Please! you need to hear yourself!", she squealed and copied him, making throat-cleaning sounds back at him, Steve pouted.

"You promised you'll help!" He threw a pillow at her and she dodged it, and then sat back next to him, calming down.

"I will, you diva," she smiled, "that terrible sound," she opened and Steve huffed, "sounds like something European, like Dutch, or German," she said, her mind running, "yeah, maybe even Russian?" she asked and they both had chills running down both of their spines, "Do you know if Eddie speaks any of those languages?" She asked and Steve shook his head, "Nope, not that he told me... This is so frustrating!" He dropped his head on her shoulder and sighed, she caressed his head, running her fingers through his hair, "Hey, we'll figure it out," She laid her cheek on his head, "Why don't you ask Wayne? He'd probably know if Eddie speaks more languages."

Steve looked up, a smile growing on his face, "Oh, Robbie," he planted a wet kiss on her cheek, "You really are a genius."

Robin smiled back and wiped her cheek, "I know. Wanna drink something?" She stood up, "Also, you really didn't think of it yourself?"

Steve shot himself off the bed and started chasing her downstairs, his hands stretched forward, but she was too fast, running away in rolling laughter.

---

Steve knocked on the trailer's door three times, and then heard heavy steps coming towards him. Wayne opened, and his eyes seemed confused.

"Steve? good to see you, son," He smiled, "Eddie isn't here, he's with his band."

"Oh, I know," Steve smiled back, "I wanted to talk to you, actually, may I?" He pointed inside the trailer.

"Sure, come in," Wayne moved and let Steve walk into the trailer, "Beer?" Steve nodded and sat on the small couch, Wayne sat next to him a few seconds later with two opened, cold beers in his hands, and gave one to Steve.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Wayne asked and sipped from his beer, and Steve did the same, postponing the, in his opinion, silly question.

"Well," he finally opened, "Does Eddie speak... another language?" He asked carefully.

Wayne lowered his beer bottle, "Why are you asking?"

"Um, he's been saying a word recently, and after some investigation I found out it's probably in a European language, but I can't tell which one..." He fixed his hair nervously and took another sip of his beer.

"Look," Wayne smiled, "I can assure you he isn't fluent in any language other than English, but the boy sure has a wild imagination and a lot of curiosity, so he knows several words in several languages," He released a short laugh, "What's the word he says?"

Steve blushed, "Please don't make me say it," he said, his voice low, "I can't pronounce it... It has that sound in the middle," and did the throat-cleaning sound again, this time softly and quietly. Wayne laughed again.

"Oh, yeah, I know what you're talking about," He put his hand on Steve's shoulder, "You know that Eddie's mother was Jewish, right?"

Steve's eyebrows jumped up, "No, I didn't actually," He placed his beer on the small table.

"Yeah," Wayne smiled, "She was, and there were many Yiddish words she used when Eddie was little, I guess some stuck with him. I hear him going around making those unfamiliar noises, it's Yiddish."

Steve's tapped his fingers on his knees, "Yiddish, you say?" His eyes scanned the room, "and you know the meaning of that word?" He asked carefully.

"Probably not, son," He took off his hand and put his beer next to Steve's, "Eddie never agreed to translate the words to me, I think it's funny to him that he has a secret language he can use behind my back," He chuckled, "I let go of it pretty quickly, it's probably all curse words."

"Well, I hope this one isn't," Steve's smile was bitter, "I truly think it's a compliment, I just don't know what kind of compliment," He laughed shortly and got up, "Thank you, Wayne." He shook his hand and walked towards the trailer's door.

"Sure son, anytime," He smiled and followed Steve, "What are you gonna do now?"

Steve stood in front of the open door, "Don't know," he shrugged, "find a Yiddish-English dictionary?"

Wayne barked in laughter, "Doubt you'll find that in the Hawkins public library," He stopped for a second, thinking, "You know Joyce Byers?"

Steve froze in place, "Yeah..?"

"She's Jewish too, I bet she'll know," He said with certainty.

"She is??" Steve ran his fingers through his hair, "How didn't I know that? How do you know that?"

Wayne smiled softly, "Was with her in school, she was Joyce Horowitz. Trust me, she has the answer for you."

Steve nodded and shook Wayne's hand again, "Thank you!" he ran to his car, "Thank you!" He waved through the window as he drove off, leaving Wayne shaking his head in a soft laugh.

"Really couldn't think of anyone more fitting for Ed," He said to himself and backed into the trailer, shutting the door behind him.

---

Steve knocked quickly on the Byers' door the next morning, Jonathan opened.

"Steve?" He looked behind him, "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Jonathan," he smiled politely, "Great to see you. Is your mom home?"

Jonathan was a lot more confused now, "Yeah, she is... Mom!" He yelled into the house and let Steve in, closing the door behind him.

"Jonathan, I can hear perfectly without you yelling," She entered the kitchen, "Steve! Hi sweetheart!" she hugged him tightly and took a step back, examining his face, "You look good." She determined, "Do you want something to eat? drink?" He didn't have time to answer and she pulled a cake out of the oven. It smelled like cinnamon. Before he noticed he had a piece in his hand. "Are you here to visit Jonathan?"

Steve shook his head while taking a bite, "This is so good, Joyce, wow," He took another one, "I'm actually here to see you," he said with his mouth full.

"Oh, okay," she smiled, "do you need anything?"

Steve nodded and finished his cake, "This is amazing, what is that?" He pointed at the cake.

"It's my Bubbe's cinnamon cake, felt like making it," she shrugged, "Glad you like it, dear," she smiled again, "So, what do you need?"

Steve sat on one of the kitchen chairs and sighed, looking around to make sure they were alone, Joyce noticed his distress and sat next to him, putting a hand on his leg, "Hey, it's okay, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me," Her eyes were warm and Steve felt like he might cry.

"Um," he opened, "Do you... Do you speak Yiddish?" He managed to ask, his voice quiet and unsure, Joyce's smile grew.

"Can't say I speak," she air-quoted the word, "But I do know a few words. Why are you asking?"

"Well," he laughed softly, relieved to have found the person who might know the answer, "Eddie's been saying that word, and I was going around trying to figure out what it means, and Wayne told me it's in Yiddish. He didn't know what it means, but he told me you might..." His eyes were hopeful and Joyce was beaming.

"Aw, sweet Wayne, I bet he remembers me as Horowitz a lot more than Byers," She reminisced, "He's probably right, what's the word?"

Steve's tongue froze. He knew this is it, this is the moment he'll get the answer, the secret is about to be revealed, he just needs to pronounce it right. He just has to say it correctly and Joyce will unveil the truth, so why can't his mouth move?

"I..." he stuttered, "I can't pronounce it..."

Joyce rubbed his hand, "It's okay, sweetheart, say it, I'll understand. It's America, not Poland, I don't expect you to get all the sounds right." She smiled warmly and Steve calmed down.

"It's... it's like, tuhhes?" He said, really trying to express the sound right, and Joyce started laughing so hard, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him alive.

"Oh, Steve!" she wiped her tears, "In what way was he using it?"

"I don't even know!" He threw his hands, blush covering his cheeks, "I couldn't find any context." He said, frustrated, "What does it mean?"

Joyce's eyes sparkled, "Well, the word is tuches, right? Is that the way he says it?" Steve nodded frantically, finally hearing the word from someone who wasn't Eddie was refreshing and surprising.

"Tuches, Steve, is the Yiddish word for," she hid the side of her mouth and lowered her voice, "Ass."

Steve sat there quietly, his eyes as wide as plates, running in his head all the times Eddie said the word and blush was climbing up his neck, cheeks and earlobes again.

"What??!" he eventually succeeded saying, "You wanna tell me that Eddie has been talking about my butt this whole time??"

Joyce nodded, "And I think he enjoyed it, how often has he been using it?"

"Oh, a lot." Steve assured and got up quickly. "Too much." He walked fast towards the door, "Thank you, Joyce! for everything!"

"Sure! come over more dear!" She shouted after him and smiled to herself.

"Mom? What was that about?" Jonathan entered the kitchen and took a piece of cake.

"Oh, nothing." She waved her hands, "Did you know Eddie Munson is Jewish? We should invite him over for Shabbos."

---

Steve has been spending the past week mastering the impossible sound. He's been saying it over and over again to himself, driving Robin nuts during their shifts. It was entertaining, sure, and she was glad he solved his mystery, but it was annoyingly endless. He did stop immediately every time Eddie walked in, and didn't react every time Eddie came up with a new sentence to weave in his tuches. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity, and it was just about to come.

It was a hot day, and Steve and Eddie were chilling inside the house. Steve lay on the couch and Eddie was right on top of him, planting small pecks all over Steve's face.

"Hey," Steve said after Eddie broke away from his lips, "Wanna get in the pool?"

Eddie raised himself and looked at Steve, "I don't have a swimsuit here."

"It's fine," Steve started to get up, Eddie slowly slipping off, "We'll swim in our boxers."

Eddie shrugged and let himself spill on the floor, and then got up in a jump and started stripping down, throwing his clothes at the amused Steve who was still sitting on the couch.

"The last to jump is a rotten egg!" Eddie shouted while running outside, Steve heard a big splash and laughed to himself, took off his clothes and joined Eddie in the pool.

"Hi Stevie," Eddie clung onto him and kissed him wetly, his hair was dragged down and he looked like a wet poodle, Steve laughed.

"Hi Eddie, love your hair," he smiled with a teasing look, Eddie pushed him away, dove into the pool and swam right underneath Steve, kicking him on his way up, and then flicked his hair and sprayed water all over.

"How about now?" He did a little toss and fell back into the water, Steve shook his head and pulled Eddie up.

"You're lucky I'm a trained lifeguard," He said, holding him tight.

"I sure am, I would've drowned if you weren't here," He smiled sweetly and kissed Steve again.

"You really would've, maybe you should get a time-out," Steve said with a serious voice, "You've been swimming very dangerously, go get us some sodas." He ordered and Eddie chuckled and pulled himself out of the pool, "Yes Sir!" He saluted.

Steve watched him walking away, dripping water, and then shouted, "Nice tuches, you got there!"

Eddie froze in place, small puddles forming around him, he turned around slowly. "What did you just say..?"

Steve got out of the pool and sat on the edge, his body twisted towards Eddie, who still hasn't moved, "I said you have a nice tuches, you disagree?"

"I- what??! You know what this word means??" he now rushed towards Steve and stood over him, hiding him from the sun, "For how long??"

Steve stood up now, "Uh, a week or so," He smiled and held Eddie's buttcheeks, pulling him closer, "I like that word, tuches," He kissed Eddie's nose, "Practiced the sound a lot for you."

Eddie was speechless, breathless, he let Steve hold him there until he succeeded saying, "How..?"

Steve's smile was cheeky, "Well, some investigations, talked to your uncle, but Joyce was the one who gave it away, did you know she's Jewish?" Eddie shook his head, "Yeah, didn't know either, Wayne told me. I also didn't know you are," Eddie raised an eyebrow, "Not that it matters, just nice to know some more things about you." He smiled and pulled Eddie even closer, into a hug.

"If you were so curious what it means," Eddie broke the hug after a few seconds, "Why didn't you just ask me?" Steve's look revealed everything, "Don't tell me you were too proud to admit you don't know!" Eddie laughed and squeezed Steve's cheeks, kissing him shortly on his lips. "I'm glad you know now, and just so you know, I always meant it in the best way possible. I love your juicy tuches." he grabbed Steve's ass with his free hand and Steve giggled.

"Do you know any more cool words in Yiddish?" Steve asked curiously, and Eddie's eyes lit.

"Oh sweetheart, we're gonna have fun today," Eddie said confidently and jumped back into the pool, leaving Steve confused all over again.

[dittobooty]

I haven't written a fic in at least 8 years but a really good AU does something to a man so have this little ficlet I wrote in like 15 minutes and didn't even bother to read back over for mistakes and don't even have a title. I just didn't feel like drawing a whole comic for this okay? This is inspired by @charliethechandelure's Weird Summer AU. Hopefully it's not too messy, enjoy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The news about Pedro was only given to them after everything was said and done in Wano. Franky sobbed for the boy they had only known one summer. A tear sprang to Robin’s eye and she silently wiped it away. That night they would grieve in each other’s company but on the Grand Line there’s no time to properly mourn a loss before you have to keep going. So they decided after that night to accept his passing and move on. That was until Egghead brought them back in the company of two people they never thought they’d be close to again. The truce with Lucci and Kaku was uneasy but necessary. To annoyance of Lucci, Franky was as boisterous and friendly as ever, as though their circumstances had never ripped the pairs apart. It wasn’t until after they had dealt with York and the Seraphim that there was a moment of peace to truly reconnect but, more importantly, to break the news to them. “May I speak with you both for a moment?” Robin asked, calmly approaching the two. Kaku barely remembered anything from the time that they had spent together that summer. He was so young at the time that all he could recall were like snapshots in a hazy dream, the feelings remaining more than any actual events. Lucci on the other hand could remember everything but he never spoke of it, almost as though it was a point of shame in his life. “What do you want?” Lucci replied, never even looking in her direction. “It’s Pedro, he…” “He’s dead isn’t he?” He responded with a voice that felt like ice. “Yes…” This was how it was on the Grand Line. People came and left your life regularly. People died regularly. Kaku struggled to remember the boy that they were speaking about, finally recalling the young leopard mink. He instinctively traced his fingers along the beads of the now too small friendship bracelet that he still kept on his wrist and watched Lucci for any reaction but there was none. “Sorry for your loss” Kaku decided to say. He supposes it was his loss too but it doesn’t feel right to claim it since Pedro was a ghost to him long before his actual death. Robin nodded. “Thank you” she said quietly before leaving them alone. Lucci was always a hard character to read, even for Kaku who had known him for so long, but there were always small signs. Right now the man was looking down with a slightly furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. This was the most grief he’d allow himself. Kaku wonders if the young mink haunted Lucci long before this moment given his devil fruit. There was no way of knowing, but if the loss hurt him, he would be there to help him heal.

[steviebbboi]

Once Upon A Friendship

Pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k~ guys i obviously have a problem, my fics just keep getting longer and longer and idk how to stop

Rating: Teens and up!

Disclaimer: Well, well, here we are~ submitting this lil ficlet for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge using the following prompts: carnival/county fair + forced proximity + "You think that's blood?". & Because I also wanted to engage with our writers community even more cuz <3, -- I'm also submitting this to @the-slumberparty Sundae Bar challenge: Chocolate (secrets will be REVEALED), butter scotch (childhood friends and the feelz is real 🥹), french vanilla (cause forced proximity trope was inevitable for our reader), w/ toppings of chocolate syrup (established relationship), graham crackers (flashback-backstory heavy), and toasted almonds (🫣get ready for some angst).

Summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cuteeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: Minors just be mindful that this has mentions of teenage sexual activity but not explicit (all age appropriate) but adding my warning below just in case, explicit language in few pieces of dialogue, ANGST with a happy ending, childhood besties to enemies/strangers, bucky, wanda, and nat are your besties too, steve is a shit communicator, both steve and reader are young and a bit naive, cheesiness ensues, fluff, work is not beta'd so any grammar mistake is my bad!!

*Any comments/reblogs are much appreciated and are so encouraging - more than you know. Pls don't hesitate to interact with me <3

“Argh, Wanda, no– I told you, I hate these things!” You whined despondently while grabbing at her arm.

“Look, you only have to go straight in and see it all the way through! It’s not like there’s any detours.” Wanda replied while giving you a deadpan look. 

You returned the look with your own mocking face, “Wan, you know that isn’t the reason why I hate these things! They grab at you and try to scare you.” You shivered at the thought of one of the maze actors dragging you away somewhere where you couldn’t be found.

“Well…that is their job, y’know?” Wanda said, holding her chin in mock thought. You scoffed and shoved her playfully while she giggled at you. 

“Plus, it’s so hot out! It’s probably so stuffy in there, especially if we go in with a random group.” You complained while attempting to fan yourself while holding your hair up off your neck. This summer was brutal, you couldn’t believe that anyone would be at the carnival fair today. But alas, everyone seems to want to enjoy the last throes of summer. 

“We won’t go in with a random group - Nat said that they’re going to meet up with us before we go in.” Wanda said distractedly while taking out her phone, assuming that she was going to be checking in with Natasha.

Your brain took a second to process what she just said before you froze, your mouth agape, “Wait, ‘th-they’re’? Don’t tell me…”

Wanda stood ramrod still as if lightning just struck. The finger that was twirling her own hair froze its mindless motions as she stared at her phone unblinkingly as she realized her mistake. 

“Argh, Wanda!” You hissed out and covered your face with both of your hands in genuine despair.

Wanda held a guilt-ridden expression, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, chip – I completely forgot that he would be coming-- honest!” 

You released a heavy sigh and closed your eyes to mentally prepare yourself for dealing with the person that you despised the most in this world.

Steve Rogers. The bane of your existence. 

Well, not really (-ish).

He also happened to be a guy that you have been crushing on since you were 10 years old.

Did he know this? No. But even if he did, you would be the last person on Earth that he would pick. How do you know this, do you ask?

You and Steve knew each other since you were basically in diapers. Alongside Bucky and Nat, the four of you grew up together. Although, that didn’t stop you from drawing the short end of the stick when dealing with your pre-pubescent teen years. 

You were a late bloomer– while Nat developed boobs and became a natural flirt at 13 years of age, you were still dealing with the bullies at 13 years old whilst trying to navigate hormones, underdeveloped boobs and pre-teen acne. Bucky quickly developed a barely there mustache and a smirk that made all of the other girls swoon (though, you were convinced that it was really just for Natasha instead). And Steve…well, Steve was like you. Underdeveloped, skinny, no hair to be found on his face. He was as tall as you, and dealt with the bullies way worse off than you ever had to do. 

But that didn’t stop you from falling in love with Steve Rogers. 

Steve was one of your best friends. He always looked after you, whether it were mean girls coming to pick on you again or making sure that you got lunch together. You walked home together, stayed at each other’s houses to study or play video games. You developed a routine where one day in a week, you would order a chocolate chip milkshake while he got a vanilla whip at your local diner, and stayed there for hours just talking about your common interests together. Steve gave you your nickname, ‘chip,’ since he constantly made fun of the fact that you got the same milkshake everytime.

You also remember when the both of you decided to be each other’s first kiss. It was awkward and weirdly coordinated, but it was nice and you trusted each other. You both laughed afterwards and hugged, swearing to each other your friendship was still intact. When your parents would make playful jokes or tease you about when you and Steve were going to be a couple, you blushed and would shy away. 

Where Steve was, you were there too. 

You were basically inseparable as you both knew that you two were the underdogs of the group. Bucky and Nat quickly became the ‘It’ power couple as you all entered into highschool. Steve and you were the glue to your little gang and it just felt so nice to not be alone.

Thankfully, you were able to grow more into yourself by the time that you were 16 years old. Your skin cleared up a bit as you learned to develop a skin care routine, and your boobs started to actually look like there were two of them. Though, you never could quite get past the social isolations (despite the fact that your two best friends were the hottest and the most popular kids at school). 

And while you changed a little bit, Steve…well– Steve changed alot. It was like one day he just woke up and became the guy that he was always meant to be. He started developing a build and grew a beard, had a huge growth spurt and joined the football team. He became strong and capable of anything. But, he was still Steve. He continued fighting for the ‘little guy’ even though he became on par with Bucky and Nat’s social class at school. 

Unfortunately, with Steve’s new social status came the one thing that you couldn’t compete with: Sharon Carter. 

Captain of the cheerleading team, it was almost natural for Steve and her to become a couple. You remembered the day that Steve and you hung out after school for your regular milkshake when he told you quietly that Sharon asked him out to the junior year annual dance. He blushed beautifully as he told his best friend the news, and you made sure to plaster on a fake smile and told him that you were happy for him.

After he took you home, you did your homework, took a shower– and as you got into bed, you cried yourself to sleep feeling utterly alone for the first time in your life. 

Things changed after that. Steve couldn’t walk you home because he was walking Sharon home. He couldn’t play video games with you at yours because he was at Sharon’s. Then, he started canceling your daily milkshake hang outs. 

“I’m sorry, Chip- I have practice to get to.” 

“Sharon mentioned that she needed my help today. I’ll see you next week.”

But next week came and went, and still no Steve.

You quickly realized that Steve was blowing you off when you caught him making out with Sharon at the library in school when he told you the day before that he was going to be at football practice. 

You didn’t mean to catch him at all - but you heard noises and glanced over to see him and Sharon behind the well-known ‘hook up’ section of the library. You squeaked in surprise since they were only half clothed, Steve with his shirt off and Sharon in only her bra. As you stood there shocked, you caught Steve’s widened eyes as they both turned to look at you. Sharon was pretty annoyed that you interrupted them (clocking her narrowed glare), but Steve at least had the decency to look embarrassed as they both put their clothes back on. 

The shock of catching him in the act wasn’t as surprising (as much as it broke your heart, you knew that people in relationships would typically take it to that level fairly quickly). What was surprising was Steve’s reaction. You thought that maybe he would apologize for lying to you, or for blowing you off as many times as he did. But instead, he cleared his throat and his eyes became more stern as he didn’t say a word. He took Sharon’s hand in his and left. 

You remembered standing there for another 5 minutes until you saw another couple glare at you as they took Steve and Sharon’s space. You didn’t even get what you came for– you walked straight home, crying, despondent over losing your best friend. (It was the movie scene where the side character gets discarded and cries silently in the rain - you felt so pathetic).

From that point forward, you didn’t bother texting Steve anymore. And he didn’t ever attempt to text you. He ignored you in the hallways and you didn’t ever look up at him when you would pass each other either. 

Throughout all this, Nat and Bucky were there for you when you came to them about what happened and your waning friendship with Steve. Nat was pissed while Bucky looked confused as to how your friendship could change so quickly. Even though they were still close with Steve too, Nat and Bucky made sure to include you more during their hangouts or offer to take you home, which you felt grateful for, but it didn’t change the fact they had each other. And that you were still alone. 

College was your wake up call to move on from Steve Rogers. You applied to universities that were all out of state, intentionally left your decision last minute so that no one could talk you out of it. Your parents didn’t approve but ultimately respected your decision. 

You remembered graduation where all of your parents made you take a group photo on the bleachers. Nat and Bucky were on the higher step as you and Steve took the lower one. It was awkward as you two barely looked at each other, and fumbled on where to place your hands. It was Bucky who eventually groaned exasperatedly and placed your hand on Steve’s back while he placed his around your waist. 

You recall the moment that really ended things between you and Steve, which was a party at one of Bucky's friends’ places. Nat and Bucky invited you to come in order to have your ‘last high school experience’ (whatever that meant). Unbeknownst to them, you were leaving the next day for settling in your new university halfway across the world. 

The party was blasting obnoxious EDM and the house was littered with red solo cups and other kids yelling at each other as they played beer pong. Feeling so displaced, you took a beer and headed upstairs to look for an empty room. 

Just your luck, you would enter the one that had Sharon (again, half-naked) on top of Steve (who was again, also shirtless) on the bed. You obviously interrupted them in the middle of something again. As they both turned to look at you, Sharon groaned your name in annoyance with an ‘ugh, seriously?!” and for you to ‘���get out.’’ You couldn’t help but ignore her as you looked at Steve once more. 

He had this same look of annoyance in his eyes as he sat up on the bed that was so unfamiliar. You’ve never seen Steve look at you like that before– as if you were a nuisance or some sort of insignificant thing. It was the same look that he gave you at the library. He became the bully that he used to protect you from when you were kids. 

Something took over you in that moment where you felt your already fragile heart just shatter into several pieces. Though, somehow, all traces of self-pity and loneliness left your body as you coldly looked over at this stranger that you realized you maybe never really knew in the first place. In that moment, you tuned out Sharon’s nasty words, and only looked at Steve with an intentional, apathetic glint in your eyes. 

The words just slipped out before you could even process them:

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

You could mutedly hear Sharon scoff and give some sort of insult (you couldn’t really remember honestly) since the only thing that you waited for, and wanted to notice, was Steve’s reaction. You watched as the traces of annoyance in his eyes glazed out and changed into something that looked akin to shock, panic and something else that you couldn’t place. 

Satisfied with finally being able to impact him for once, and to let him know how much you hated him in that moment, you turned to leave determinedly– you were pretty sure that you heard him yell out your name before you left but you slammed the door hard, ran down the stairs, and out of the house until you made the trek home. 

You told yourself that night, as angry tears fell out onto your pillow in your childhood bedroom, that you would move on from Steve Rogers. That you deserved more and that you were going to make space for yourself in your own way. 

As you settled into your new apartment, met Wanda as your new roommate (and now your certified best friend), you received a call from Nat and a text from Bucky.

Natasha was, naturally, upset at you for leaving without telling her. She made you promise to never do that again and to come to her more when you needed her. You felt one piece of your heart pull together again at how sincere and emotional Nat was on the phone. You realized that you may have also neglected your best friend when you and Steve were close, and promised her on the phone to never let that happen again. 

Bucky sent a text saying, “Dude, what the fuck,” which is pretty polite for him, considering the context. You apologized and explained to him your desire to build your own life and while he was still mad at you, he expressed his understanding and respect for your decision.

Bucky and your relationship was never very close like Steve’s and his was, but he always looked after you (in his own way). You felt protected by Bucky in ways that you couldn’t with anyone else, and you knew that he would always ultimately support you as he would his younger sister. He told you to text him if anyone were to bother you, and you promised that you would check in with him daily.

You did receive one text from Steve: “I’m sorry for everything, chip.” That was all he wrote. 

You glared at your phone and deleted his text, so overwhelmed with your anger and determination to remove Steve Rogers from your life. It seemed as if your lack of response was enough for him to get the message that you were done since he didn’t text you since that day. 

At Uni, you really grew and developed into yourself. You became involved in college campus life, got a job as a TA, had a boyfriend or two. You dated one guy for six months before calling it off since you were better off as friends, and any other flings that you’ve had were short-lived or just didn’t land well enough to be in a committed relationship. 

But you learned alot from these relationships and ultimately felt grateful to connect with people as you proved to yourself that you were something without the people back home. That you were more than the girl who loved Steve Rogers. You were proud of yourself for that.

Flashforward to now, you’ve just finished your freshman year of college. You’re visiting home for the summer to visit your parents, and to visit Bucky and Natasha, both of them ultimately decided to attend one of the local colleges. You kept your promise with them and stayed close, and even brought Wanda back with you– since introducing her to them last week, she became fast friends with your childhood friends. 

You haven’t really spoken to Steve since that last stint in high school. Considering that your two best friends were still close with him too, and your families were all close, you couldn’t exactly avoid him. But you never talked about what happened in highschool. At the chance that you would see and interact with each other, you would greet him politely even though there was still some animosity there. 

Steve wasn’t outwardly mean or rude, and he would try to talk with you more than once before in the past year, but you were evasive everytime in avoiding anything deeper than a “hello, how are you doing?.” You would stuff down the guilt from his disappointed and hurt expressions as you actively avoided him. You brushed off your friends who were begging you to try to repair your friendship with Steve– and just go back to school, blissfully living in ignorance. 

But now, as you stood in line awkwardly waiting for the Summer Queens County Fair’s haunted corn maze with Steve (your friends suddenly “needing” to get some drinks or go to the bathroom while Steve and you waited for tickets in line), you felt like you wanted to pass away from the how thick the tension filled the air.

You could practically feel Steve’s tense energy in attempting to engage you in conversation. And damn him, he looked good. His muscles looked even fuller as they were accentuated by a basic white tee, and his beard- argh, his beard- only made his features even more rugged and handsome. 

You hated the way that he could still make your heart flutter, even after all this time had passed. 

“So,” you almost jumped when he finally broke the silence. “How have you been, chip?” 

You felt yourself take a minute to defrost your stiff and frozen body as you turned to look at him. You met his curious gaze and said blatantly, “I’ve been okay.”

Silence filled the space again as your bluntness seemed to envelop the air around you. “Uh, that’s good. Are you…–how are you finding your classes?”

You looked back at him with narrowed eyes and just felt a rush of frustration move through you seeing his eager expression, that puppy dog look that always made you feel empathy for him suddenly made you feel annoyed and impassive.

“We don’t have to do this, Steve.” You said to him bluntly while crossing your arms defensively.

Steve’s own eyes narrowed in confusion and he swallowed heavily. He seemed to be thrown off by your comment. “I’m just trying to get to know you again, chip–”

“Well, I don’t want you to get to know me, Steve, okay?!” You interrupted him as your voice raised before lowering in the latter half. 

Looking up at him, you met his eyes for the third time that night, but what you didn’t expect to see was that he looked so crestfallen and sad. 

The guilt that has built up over the past few years swooped in and rested heavily in your chest. Instantly regretting your outburst, you sighed, “Look, I just think that we may be better off just not talking to each other, okay. We don’t have to try to be friends again just because our friends forced us to finally interact with each other since highschool.”

Steve winced at your cutting words, and he still had this sadness on his face as he looked down at his feet before he said quietly, “I’m not trying to…–I just…it’s been a long time, chip. The last time that I saw you, with Sharon and with what you said, I–,” you both winced in that quick rehash of the incident. Steve finished with a weary sigh, “Honestly, I just miss you.” 

You frowned when listening to his words as the sincerity behind it felt displaced, and out of nowhere. You also couldn't help but feel concerned as you really looked at him. Outwardly, Steve looked as put together as he usually did. But people weren’t used to seeing him the way that you had growing up.

Looking closer, his eyes weren’t as bright as they could be, and they looked tired. Slight dark circles were forming underneath his dim eyes, shading his fully bearded face that was just a tad unkempt. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well and his shoulders had a hunch to them that could be perceived as calmness when you knew that it more resembled a tiredness or despondence. 

Your frown was still on your face as you elected to ignore his declaration of missing you and simply asked, “Are you okay, Stevie?”

At your question, Steve noticeably straightened up and his mouth parted in surprise that reflected in his eyes. You both stood there for a moment as you stared at him with concern and him looking at you with…mirth? With your lips pursed, you glanced at him with narrowed eyes at seeing the humor alight in his eyes, brightening them a bit more towards its familiar shade of cerulean blue.

“Okay, what just happened?” You asked suspiciously. 

Steve’s eyes brightened more and the grin that was growing on his face grew even larger into a soft smile. “You called me Stevie.” 

You lurched back a bit as you replayed the moment briefly in your head and stuttered a bit at the realization. You hadn’t meant to call him that at all, but when you saw that sad look on his face and the signs of it on his body, you couldn’t help but recall moments similar to when you were just kids, walking home, checking in with each other during similar moments, but experiencing these things together. 

“Uh- I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you–,” You blushed and stuttered as you tried and failed at attempting to save your slip. 

“No,” Steve interrupted you, his smile wilting a little bit. “Please, don’t apologize for that. I,– I miss us when we were just kids. Nobody calls me that anymore, well, beyond Nat and Buck, of course.” He said sheepishly while running his hand through his hair, disheveling it even more into a natural, annoyingly perfect quaff. 

You gave him an assented hum and cleared your throat as you looked back down at your feet, giving the flattened grass an invisible kick. You both were quiet again but the awkward animosity wasn’t as present as it was before. You both shifted on your feet a bit more before glancing up at each other from time to time, barely missing each others’ eyes before finally, your gazes met each other at the right time. 

He was looking at you differently– this time with that good-natured smile and levity in his eyes that glinted at you with that same ‘something else’ that you couldn’t quite put a finger on a year ago. 

His small grin was reluctantly infectious as you felt your lips start to curve upwards as a response.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes trying to stuff down your smile as you replied with a cheap response. Memories surfaced again of your witty banter that you used to share that always started with Steve’s little smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you opened them again to meet his own humorous gaze.

Steve’s soft smile grew into a teasing smirk, “That’s good, at least I got a smile and a laugh from you before you start to avoid me again.” 

You only gave him an incredulous look at how blatantly out of pocket that sounded before letting out a sudden, full belly-laugh with him. You couldn’t believe that you were laughing again with Steve Rogers. 

You felt this feeling again too - it wasn’t heartbreak, but rather, the shattered pieces that were shoddily put together again throughout the years felt solidified just a little bit more.

The laughs died down and the both of you remained standing there with genuine grins on your face. Before you lost your nerve, you felt a sudden urge to have him listen to you, to hear you, and to understand what really happened between you two. 

“Steve–,”

“Chip, I–”

You both looked at each other and laughed for a moment before he indicated for you to go first. His grin looked so boyish and sincere, you couldn’t help but smile back at him as you two were just high school kids in Brooklyn again. Comfortable and authentic, together. 

About to open your mouth, you get interrupted again by the person that you least expected to see on your visit back home.

“Chip? Steve? Oh my gosh, is that you two? Wow, chip! Look at you, you certainly grew into yourself!” Sharon’s pitched voice pierced the mutual bubble that was starting to form between you and Steve and flattened its existence.

You gave her a quick glance over and were internally surprised to see that she seemed to be exactly the same. Her eyeliner framed her hazel brown eyes that were widened in what looked like surprise, and with a hint of condescension (cause why wouldn’t she look down upon you with all of that pity). Her blonde hair resting softly down her back as she stood there in her floral skirt, her friends right behind her glancing over at you and Steve disinterestedly. 

You stood there and gave her a fake shoddy grin as you greeted her back politely. “Sharon, wow, hi.” Your monotonous tone couldn’t be covered up in time before the words left your mouth.

She only gave you a dull hum before she glanced over at Steve with a smirk. “Hi Steve, how are you?” 

The curious part of you couldn’t help but try to catch Steve’s reaction to her presence. You had no idea where things left with them since you left that day, and you never bothered to ask your friends either. Assessing him, he was looking at her with a nonchalant expression, and you were unsure of how deliberate his reaction was as he made small talk with her. 

Trying to gauge his expression, there wasn’t any sadness present in his eyes anymore, nor was there any mirth. But, you did notice a stiffness there. The corner of his eyes crinkled a little too harshly as he forced a polite smile onto his face. You could see his jaw clench as Sharon droned on about her college experience.

Time couldn’t erase the fact that you did know Steve Rogers for some time– and when he was uncomfortable, he wasn't able to hide it at all. 

The theatrical tunes of the fair and the echoes of people screaming in mirth and laughter suddenly came back in as you hear the booth employee for the haunted corn maze (this line was way too long for what it was worth) call for you and Steve to step on up. 

You couldn’t stifle the quiet mutter under your breath, “thank god” as a wave of relief flooded through your body at being able to escape the dangers that you just experienced as you turned around to follow the employee to the front of the maze. You didn’t even say bye to Sharon, and you didn’t even realize that your friends hadn’t returned from their supposed tasks. 

Your mutter may have been louder than you thought as you heard a snort from beside you. Glancing over, Steve was looking down at you with a returned humor that you just rolled your eyes at him. “Well, it’s not like you wanted to be there anymore than I did. Your tells are still exactly the same, Stevie.” You said derisively. 

Ignoring the harshness of your tone, Steve only smiled more as you slipped boundaries again. You only caught it when you saw that he was simply just staring at you in response. Only then did you catch it and you rolled your eyes again with a small smile. His smile grew more as he intentionally leaned and walked into your path as you both followed the employee. You stumbled to your left at his deliberate clumsiness and shoved him away from you playfully before you could stop yourself. 

You’re teasing around with Steve Rogers. And reluctantly admitting, you weren’t unhappy about it. 

You both continued to shove each other away as Steve kept teasing you until you reached the front of the maze. The employee turned to face you before you went inside to explain the rules and you were listening attentively until you heard a throat clear from behind you. Looking back, you see that it's Sharon and her friends. 

Trying to, but unsuccessfully, cover your agape mouth at seeing that they were actually following behind you this entire time, you clenched your jaw with annoyance and turned to face forward again.

The despair that you felt come in earlier from Steve’s arrival has returned tenfold with Sharon’s presence. Paired with the fact that you’re being forced to have entered a haunted corn maze, your hackles rise angrily at the fact that you’re being forced into a situation with both Steve and Sharon that you didn’t even wanna be a witness to, AGAIN.

Feeling suddenly so tired and exhausted, you let out a despondent sigh, “Okay, are we doing this or what?” The employee merely raised their eyebrows before motioning you to move forward in the maze.

You could feel Steve’s eyes following you as he tried to walk next to you, but you could hear Sharon trying to engage with him again. You could hear him respond but you didn't really care anymore. You didn't mean to be rude, but you were feeling resentful of all of it again. Especially hearing Sharon’s whiny voice trying to speak with Steve right directly behind you, you once again felt utterly alone. 

Torches and string lights lit up the corn maze. Although, the night sky was void of any lights or stars, which made the maze really feel like a maze– isolated and desolate. You could hear Sharon’s two friends in the back muttering that they were scared as they let out occasional, little screams at any sounds that could be heard (even if it was just the wind grazing the corn harshly, or honestly, the sounds of their own footsteps, ha.) 

Feeling so bored and wanting to leave, you turned around to just go back when you saw Sharon holding on to Steve’s arm with a worried look on her face. 

You were passing by some rows of hay with a sticky red substance spilling all over it when you heard Sharon’s small screech.

“Omg, you think that’s blood?,” She said with a genuinely worried tone. 

You wanted to laugh so bad as you looked over at Steve, just in time to see the rolling of his eyes and heavy sigh. She seemed to be grasping onto him with an even tighter grip and although Steve wasn’t shaking her off, he did have that uncomfortable look on his face again.

His second aggravated sigh and furrowed brows gave away his annoyance as he attempted to subtly create some space between his body and her touch. You turned forward again as the laughter erupted in your throat, but you managed to stifle it in time with a pursed smile on your face at hearing Sharon’s affronted noise in response. 

You could read a mean girl from far away at this point – Sharon’s attitude wasn’t lost on you nor was her sudden closeness with Steve. But it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would, even if you found out that they were still together after high school. Honestly, a part of you felt satisfied that Steve, the one responsible for the existing tension between you in the first place, was finally just as uncomfortable as you were. To see Sharon offended and to see Steve’s discomfort made you feel a sense of justice and a resurged faith in good ol’ karma. 

That pride you felt in being able to find your own comfort in your healing made you feel giddy. You weren’t in any sense of a relationship that held any drama. It felt good to know that the forced proximity didn’t just affect you at this moment. Yeah, sucks to suck, doesn’t it?

You flinched a few times as you continued walking throughout the maze with some actors coming out to scare you, but as you saw the glaring red Exit sign, you couldn’t wait to get outta there. Speed walking at this point, you were determined to walk out of this maze with your gaze forward, determined to not look back at the two sore points of the past few years. 

You made it to the exit and sighed in relief. You were already a few paces away when you heard Steve call for you.

“Wait, chip! –” 

The body is a wonder - your mind was so fixated on leaving but when you heard him call out for you, your mind flashed to the both of you waiting in line, flashed to the sounds of your laughter mixing together, the feeling of him leaning into you. You didn’t want to but, suddenly, your feet just stopped in place and you turned around to look over at him. Hope swelled in your chest…

And there was Steve. And Sharon. Kissing. 

You inhaled deeply at the sight, not expecting to have caught them, yet again, mid-kiss. The tension knotting in your stomach finally exploded, and your stomach dropped making your feet feel so heavy. It was like watching a car crash happening in front of you - you felt fixated and couldn’t move, turn away. The hope that was swelling in your chest evaporated like mist, and you felt so foolish. The pieces that were somehow lodged together again from your earlier interaction broke into pieces, and felt grinded into dust. The wind took its opportune moment to breeze through your hair, and it almost felt like it intentionally took your longing for your best friend again with it.

Steve gripped Sharon’s arms harshly, shoving her away from him with an angry expression on his face. “Sharon, what the hell?!” He exclaimed. Turning away from Sharon and her pouted expression, his widened eyes frantically found yours. 

Even a few feet away, the panic that you saw in them was familiar. You remember seeing it exactly when you had severed the existing relationship between you and Steve that night. 

You couldn’t help your reactiveness– you were feeling so triggered by what you were witnessing. Your vision started to get blurry as you felt that familiar burning sensation building in your eyes. The panic in Steve’s eyes intensified at the sight, and when he made a move to step forward, your feet instinctively took one step back. 

Completing the reenacted memory, you felt your mouth press into a hardened line as you met his gaze with a ferocious determination. Familiar numbness rose up and a lethargic apathy just washed over you. You bravely met his gaze and although the words weren’t being said, you and Steve both heard the words.

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

The truth was, the anger and rage that you were feeling (and let’s be honest, the resentment that you suppressed and just gaslit yourself into reframing it as healing) was just the surface. Underneath, a deep and hollow feeling of just being unwanted and undesirable bubbled up with a vengeance. You didn’t wanna hear it, but you were tired, were abandoned by your friend(s), and energy depleted from tonight’s event. You knew you couldn’t be there any longer. 

Your feet continued to step back slowly as you heard Steve asking for you to please wait - but then Sharon took his arm again needily and you took that as your opportunity to bolt. 

You dropped your teary-eyed gaze away from his almost desperate looking one, mumbled out a quick excuse and left with a brisk nod. It was just like when you were 17 again, you heard Steve call out your name again but you don’t stop to look. You didn’t see him staring after you so longingly and looking so dejected, nor did you see him blatantly remove his arm from Sharon’s grip again while they hushed out intense looking whispers at each other. 

The parking lot of the carnival was in sight as you wiped away the bitter tears from your face. You knew that leaving was immature of you, and you knew that you would disappoint your friends. You knew that you were breaking your promises to Nat and Bucky (and now Wanda) about talking with them before making any impulsive decisions.

You reached your old pick-up and opened the door harshly. The tears wouldn’t stop as you stood outside the car. Almost child-like, your hands curled into fists as you brought them to your eyes and just sobbed. 

For a moment there, you thought that maybe…maybe you could start again. Maybe you and Steve could rekindle your friendship, or at least, talk things through. You thought that maybe you’d be able to continue laughing again. You shook your head, feeling so much pity for yourself. 

Heaving out another wilted sigh, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back to allow the fresh winded air to dry your tears upon your chilled face. You needed time to think, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go, and what you needed. 

The sweetness of the chocolate shavings melted in your mouth, leaving only the sugary taste behind. You took another sip of your milkshake and made sure to swipe some whipped cream from the top for an extra sweet finish. 

The diner was mostly empty, spare a truck driver or two sitting by the bar tops. You mindlessly stir your milkshake some more with the plastic straw and couldn’t help but relieve another sigh from your body. You came to the diner for nostalgia’s sake, and a chocolate chip milkshake was always a huge dopamine boost for whenever you were feeling sad. 

But this time, getting your favorite milkshake at the diner left more of a sour taste in your mouth as each sip just reminded you of Steve.

You decided that you would try to bring yourself to feeling better before you left for home, which meant drinking your milkshake, making small talk with Betty (the sweet, old waitress who has been giving you milkshakes for free since you were a teenager), and settling the grievances that you could actually fix. 

You instantly texted Wanda to let you know that you had left the carnival, and that you hoped that she was having fun going to the bathroom for the past hour. Instantly receiving an apologetic text back for ditching you with Steve, you figured it was as good a time as any to also let her know that she would have to ride back with Bucky and Nat (given the fact that you also had basically left her there too). She sent you the mouth wide open face emoji, and you knew that you both could call it even.

Nat texted you a selfie of her and Bucky pouting remorsefully. It was enough to make you crack a grin (Bucky looked so ridiculous). You demurely sent them back a picture of your middle finger (because you were the bigger person of course), which only had her text back an apology with an IOU. You knew that they were only trying to be your friends, but at least you would have this photo as blackmail for future purposes. 

You started to play a game on your phone mindlessly when you heard the door ring, indicating a new customer walking in. Not even looking up, you proceeded to win the next level of the game until someone set another chocolate chip milkshake down on your table. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Bet, I didn’t want–,” you started to say as you looked up. But it wasn’t Betty who dropped off the milkshake. 

It was Steve. 

Your eyes widened a bit in just processing that he was actually there, standing in front of you. He actually came to find you? The scene from earlier was so crystal clear and akin to your high school memory, you were convinced that that would be it. As you sat there staring doe-eyed at Steve, the scene had felt like it glitched as it was now playing out differently than you had expected.

Heat rose to your cheeks as your gaze focused on Steve’s determined facial expression. You turned forward to face your new milkshake and deliberately avoided his narrowed gaze. You could feel him still staring at you and you shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t say anything but moved to sit across from you in the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh of his own as he did too.

You kept your eyes down as the both of you let the silence permeate the air around you. A few minutes passed before you were about to officially just get up and leave when Steve broke the silence first. 

“I swear,” he turned to look over at you with an exasperated gaze. “I had no idea that she was going to be there.”

A disbelieving scoff came out of your mouth and you rolled your eyes blatantly. “Steve stop, again, you don’t have to do this – “ 

“Stop saying that, chip!” His voice was filled with a sternness that you couldn’t ignore. Your eyes widened at him as he continued, “I’m here because I want to be, okay? Not cause Bucky, or Nat, or your family told me to or forced me to. I found you - and I asked you to wait earlier and you ran away, again!”

A glare scrunched up your face as your fury rose up at the audacity of his scolding, “Excuse me?! I didn’t want to wait because I didn’t want to watch you and Sharon sucking each other’s faces off, again!” You flourished your mocking with a tight expression and only caused Steve to oppose you even more.

“She was the one who kissed me – I didn’t want to be there with her either. I haven’t even seen or spoken to Sharon since you left!” Steve blurted out.

Your heart felt like it was racing in your chest and your mind blanked at hearing Steve’s reveal as you tried to stutter out a response. “What– I don’t–,” words were hard. You thought that they were together for some time during the year in college. With the way that Sharon was acting, you assumed that they were still interacting with each other, somehow, at the very least.

Steve took advantage of your surprised silence and continued, “God, chip. After what happened at the party, I just…I realized then how much I hurt you.” He looked at you with such remorse as you just continued staring at him. The hardness that was built over the years was still surrounding you, trying to protect you, even if Steve was professing his regret. 

“When I heard you say that you regretted having ever met me,” you both flinched at the words as he said them, “and this look in your eyes…it looked like you really despised me and I felt it and I just–,” Steve cut himself off with another flinch and pinched his eyes shut. 

“I let it get to my head. When I made the team and when people started to pay attention to me, when those bullies stopped bothering me and actually invited me to things, I lost sight of what really mattered to me the most and that was you. I know that that is a stupid excuse, and that I was hurting you, even way before what happened at the party and I was dumb, immature, and just stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, chip.” He spewed out the words faster than he could coherently process them but the sincerity could be heard in his rushed tone. 

His downcast, teary eyed gaze met yours and you felt your breath hitch slightly at the sight. Growing up with Steve, he was always the formidable one. He was the one who reached out first to hold your hand if you cried. The one to maintain composure and calmness while you were the one who was more nervous and panicked. To see Steve so out of breath, wistful, and low-spirited was worrisome and unfamiliar to you. 

You were at a loss for words as you tried your best to process his words. Steve bit his lip nervously as he tried to gauge your reaction. When you only met him with more silence, the despondent look in his face only grew, “Please. I completely understand if you still don’t want to be friends, and after this, I’ll completely leave you alone. But honestly, chip, I can’t leave knowing that you still hate me. I- I know that’s selfish, but I can’t.” 

You moved your stare to blankly look at your melting milkshake, the whipped cream completely evaporated into the cold drink. 

“You hurt me.” You blurted out.

Steve almost looked startled at hearing your voice after such a lingering silence. “I know, and I’m so sorry–.”

“No, Steve,” You interrupted him indignantly, “you hurt me.” The tears blurred your unseeing gaze again as you focused enough to meet his own. The whimper dislodged in your throat as you could no longer hide the suppressed pain.

Just like that, the both of you were 15 years old again. You were crying after being teased by other kids or bullied for your flaws, and Steve was there trying to console you. The impact of these experiences were a shared burden impenetrable to your friendship together.

The difference now is that, instead of your tears being spurred by the mean-spirited popular kids, Steve was the one who committed the offense, a betrayal that cut so deep and you were the only one to shoulder the burden. 

Steve swallowed heavily as he blinked furiously to hold his own tears at bay. He seemed to understand what you were saying as his eyes glanced over the different features of your face. He knew all of your vulnerabilities and ignored, neglected his care of you by treating you the way that others had growing up. He abandoned you when you needed him the most, and he had to understand the severity of that in the same way that you tried to tell him then as you were now. 

Steve exhaled deeply as he looked over at you. His still despondent eyes held a layer of genuine understanding as he apologized despairingly, “I’m so sorry.” 

You sniffled as tears fell freely onto your cheeks, your puffy eyes and pained expression causing Steve to flinch in his own despondence. You brought a closed fist to your face again to wipe the tears and winced as you suddenly felt strong, sturdy arms envelop you in a soft embrace.

The tears only came down stronger at the feeling of hugging your best friend. Not feeling so alone anymore, your heart cried out with you in relief as you turned and tucked your face into his chest, your arms moved to clutch his back. Once you did, his embrace only became tighter as he squeezed you to him closer. 

You both sat there for a while, just hugging, soft sobs falling from your lips while Steve continued to repeat quiet, but earnest, apologies. After a year of animosity, sadness, and unresolved hurt, the both of you silently agreed to let this moment just be. 

Eventually, your tears stopped running so harshly and you sniffled back your snot-filled nose very charmingly as you reluctantly pulled away from his warmth. Steve still kept one muscular arm around your shoulder as you looked up at him hesitantly.

“Stevie?” You began to ask. Steve responded with a soft hum for you to continue while rubbing your shoulder soothingly. It didn’t even seem like he noticed that he was doing it.

Before you could lose your nerve, you meekly asked, “Why did you start pulling away from me when you started dating Sharon?” 

Steve’s hand froze and he stilled as if he were preparing for the worst. He sighed while closing his eyes for a moment. Taking a breath, he opened them back up to look at you with a resolved and honest gaze.

“When I told you that Sharon asked me to the prom, I thought that would’ve been the moment that you told me that you liked me the same way that I liked you.” 

Your heart thundered so loudly in your chest as you gave him a shocked, glazed over expression. 

He liked you.

“But then you smiled at me, and you said that you were happy for me, and, I guess a part of me felt like I was foolish to have ever thought that you would actually like me more than a friend. I continued things with Sharon because I felt like I had to get over you.” He said regretfully. 

You blinked up at him a few times before you asked dumbly, “And that’s why you were pulling away? The lies and the fake excuses, or why you ignored me when you were with Sharon?” 

Steve flinched with each question as he confessed, “Yes. It was really immature of me to ignore you. If I could go back and do it over, I would in a heartbeat.” An intentional look sat on his face as he expressed his remorse. 

You released another speechless hum in return, still processing that Steve liked you. In a spur of your own adrenaline running through your body, you suddenly disclosed, “Steve, I did like you the way that you liked me.”

Steve stilled and inhaled sharply, “...W-what do you mean?” 

Mustering up your own fostered courage, you exhaled deeply and said, “I liked you too. But I was your best friend. I thought that you were the one who didn’t like me, so I thought that if I supported you in dating Sharon, I wouldn’t lose you completely.” You felt your face scrunch in confusion as how ridiculously unnecessary this entire separation was.

He only looked at you with incredulity as he realized, “So, because we couldn’t just buck up and tell each other honestly in that moment that we liked each other, we ended up losing each other anyways?” 

“Ugh, what a mess.” You revered and knocked your forehead against his chest ashamedly. You both were quiet again as he resumed rubbing your shoulder calmingly. 

“Chip?” Steve suddenly spoke out. 

Raising your head up to look at him again, still cringing from such a huge misunderstanding, you gave him a soft hum to continue his inquiry. 

Steve looked down into your eyes, making you feel mesmerized with how deeply he was gazing at you. From how close your faces were, you could really see the subtle hints of green in his blue eyes. There was still some grief there as you looked at each other but there was again, something else that you still couldn’t point out. 

Noticing that unknowing glint in his eye for the second time that night, you questioned him curiously hoping to finally find out, “What is it?”

“I like you.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, his eyes filled with mirth again and an honesty that couldn’t be faked. Your thundering heart skipped a beat as you felt your own spirit restore within you. You could feel those pieces in your heart start to build again. 

You looked back at him with such relief as Steve pulled you in closer, you took in another deep breath as you responded.

“I love you.” 

His eyes immediately glowed with an infectious joy, a genuine laugh and smile graced his face as he got closer to you. You could hardly breathe as you returned his loving gaze, his nose nuzzled yours gently until the both of you met each other halfway in a tender, first kiss. 

A/N: my cue to say: and they lived happily ever after! i would love to know what people thought, thanks for reading :)

Main Masterlist

Captain America/Steve Rogers Masterlist

Tag List is Open :) [submit a form if you would like to be tagged in any of my works]

Tag(s): @patzammit @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @stellar-solar-flare @mercurial-chuckles

[sweetsuo]

Hiya. I was wondering if you could do Suo, Ren Kaji, and Umemiya from Wind Breaker with a s/o who has a secret tattoo? Like they have a tattoo on their arm or leg but they always had it covered up with something not to hide it just because the clothes their s/o normally wears covers it. With a gn!reader please

Howdy! I sure can ovo. I tried to encorporate the prompt as much as I could without it being repetitive or the sole focus. Also in umemiya's, i mention a skirt of fabric, but there is a youtube short (here) i based the performance off of and figured that it was more just like a draped fabric?? I couldn't think of a more appropriate word so I'm sorry if 'skirt' is a little too gendered ;v; i can always change it. Also have no idea where to put the 'read more' so here's to hoping it won't mess up too much fjdksfj

𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

Hayato Suo x gn!reader.

drummer!Ren Kaji x bandmate.gn!reader.

Hajime Umemiya x dancer.gn!reader.

genre. [SFW]. Ficlets with Fluff~. Suo finds a secret of your past. Kaji is your bandmate. Umemiya attends one of your performances.

cw. in suo's - mentions of physical fights. drummer!Kaji. in umemiya's - pole dancer!reader. probably spelling errors dlkfj.

wc. ~2k.

𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐨

Summer was always sweltering. The humidity, the heat, the sun relentlessly beating down from above – it all made for a horribly sweaty time. When choosing your outfit, you went for something a little more revealing from your typical. A tank top and some shorts. Simple and generally not enough to garner you stares. That is, if you didn’t have tattoos. Some of the more rural areas still affiliated tats with the Yakuza or delinquents. Luckily this town was pretty open minded. 

You only had them on your knees, but still tried to cover them up with foundation and longer pants. It was illusory – the type to make it look like you had joints of a ball-jointed doll. On the left knee was a crack in the ‘porcelain.’ It was all intended to be a cover up from a past fast. One you were not too excited to be reminded of, but still was part of your history.

“My, what do we have here?” Suo’s saccharine voice tore you from your memories. 

He sat beside you on the rail of the bridge above cascading waters. You feel his cool gaze linger on the ink. It hadn’t been long since you started dating. You hadn’t really done anything yet to warrant him seeing your tattoos, either. He wasn’t the type to judge based off such superficial features yet somehow the paranoia remained. Would he judge you?

“This is lovely. The blending is superb.” His smile is as soft as his touch along your knee. He admired the art. It took a lot of skill to make skin resemble the texture of porcelain. 

You straighten and bend your right leg in response with a grin, “Thank you! The girl who did it was really talented!” Your partner nodded in agreement; his gaze filled with loving intrigue. Enthused, you chattered on, “Said it’d be painful, especially at the back of the knee-“ You twist your body and gripped the rail to show him the pit of the knee, “but nothin’ could be as painful as getting my knee kicked in-“ An arctic chill ran up your spine. Confused, you pause in your chipper yapping. “Uh... Hayato?” 

Suo leaned, grazing his fingertips along the inked-over scar of the left knee. Silence took over as he stroked the area with delicate care. His smile faded, leaving behind an eerily flat expression. Suo was the chill dominating over the heat. “Is that what this is from?”

“Happened when I was stuck in KEEL a while back. Before I moved over here. Got the tattoo to cover up the scar.”

“Ah. Would you happen to remember who the troglodyte is that did this?” The vitriol of those words passed through such a polite smile as he peered up to you.

“None of that.” You pursed your lips and teasingly flicked your hand at him, “No vengeance seeking on my account.” He opened his mouth to make some sweet excuse only for you to interject, “I did whack them with a pipe so I wasn’t too fair either.” You shrugged off the incident. Enthusiastically, you motioned to your knee, “Plus I got a pretty rad tattoo out of it. The past is the past.” You leaned against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 

Suo kissed the crown of your head, leaning his lips upon the roots in thought. He chucked, surrendering to your charms, “Fine, fine. I’ll stand down." He checked his phone for the time, "Shall we go have our tea?” 

“Of course!” You hop down with Suo’s assistance. You didn’t fully believe he’d stand down, but that would be a problem for another lovely summer day.

𝐑𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐣𝐢

“Ren~! Are you excited? I’m excited.” You practically leapt from foot to foot in the band lounge room. The walls were lined with posters, tour promos, and thumb-tacked notes from bands of years past. Photos of band members in that exact location were hung to immortalize the bands that made it big. You toyed with the corners of handwritten notes, more than overjoyed to read the words of encouragement from bassists and singers alike. 

“Mhm,” He leaned his head against the back of a couch, hands patting on his thighs as he mentally ran through the setlist as last minute practice. 

So far, it was just you and him in the room. Sugishita, Hiragi, and Kiryu all went to grab drinks before the show. Two years after graduation, the band was made. Never got too big – it was mostly a hobby after all. But tonight was a big night. With some pulling of strings and pleading Suo to smooth talk the venue manager, the band was able to play a night in a well known spot.  

“D’ya think it’ll be more underground?" You questioned, "Never been to this venue before even in my groupie years so I'm not sure of the crowd's vibe."

“Dunno. Heard it was popular because of the blacklights, mostly.” Kaji answered cooly, "Probably a lot of different people."

“Blacklights? Is that why everyone made these?” You pull at the collar of your shirt. Everyone from Bofurin met up on the old rooftop the night before and drew on black t-shirts with bleach and highlighters. You certainly didn't cry upon recieving the gift. Ofcourse not!

The only thing was that it got hot on stage and the last thing you wanted was to sweat through all the sweet words written by your friends, so you modified the cut. The sleeves were cut off (no writing was on them!) and you slit the side seams so it draped on you like a tank top. But then, a different thought popped into your head. Maybe that wasn't the only thing.

“Oh shit.” 

“Hm?” Kaji leaned forward with a tilt of his head, “What’s up?”

“I have a tattoo.” 

“Eh? You do?” His brows furrowed. Not from anger - he never gave a shit about tattoos. He even had a few neck pieces nowadays. He’d seen most of your body by this point and never noticed a single line of ink.

Pretty gray eyes narrowed as he investigated you, “C’mere. Lemme see.” He motioned you over and you happily obliged. You took the opportunity to straddle his lap. He pat your exposed skin, trying to find this hidden gem along the canvas he thought he memorized. 

“It’s here-“ You twisted, holding open the slit of the shirt to show your ribs. 

A crease lined the center of his brows, “Nothin’s there.” 

“It’s UV ink.... there's gotta be a light around here to show you.” From above the couch was a metal pull string to a blacklight. With a yoink, the amethyst light glowed. You heard the doorknob turn followed by Kiryu popping his head in.

“Ten minutes ‘till start-“

“Kiryu before you go again, flip that switch!” You motioned to the light switch next to the door. 

The pinkette gave you a mischievous grin, obliging, “No backstage funny business. Hiragi will have a heart attack on stage.” He shut the door with a wave, leaving you and your red cheeks illuminated by the blacklight. 

As soon as he did, Kaji’s eyes widened. In UV ink, you had a ribcage tattooed on with flowers peeking through the bone. His thumb grazed the skin, eyes wide in awe. 

“That’s hot.” He mumbled. Strong, calloused fingers pressed into your flesh and pulled to see more. You enjoyed the attention, almost cursing at Kiryu for the time announcement, “Have you always had this?”

“Mhm! I got it when I was a teen. Too scared to get in trouble, though, so figured hiding it with invisible ink would work perfectly.” You looked off to the side, “All in one session. Don’t recommend.” 

“That why you could barely move that one month?” 

“Please don’t bring that up again, I was embarrassed enough when Taiga accidentally five-starred it and I cried on the roof. Shit hurt during healing!”  You shared a laugh from the past shenanigans.

Kaji took the sucker out from his mouth and pulled you in for a kiss. The remnants of his lolipop lingered between you and him.  He snorted at your pout when he pulled away.  Free hand cupped your cheek. The corner of his mouth turned up as he asked, “Let’s get a light for the bedroom.” 

𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐔𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚

You took a deep breath in. Your fingers wrapped around the hand loop. With a tug you make sure it’s firm in its place along the pole. Tsubaki had convinced you to join her at the club for some extra cash some time ago. At first you weren’t sure if you were cut out for it. You could do exotic style, but flow and contemporary were where you felt free. You were assured it wasn’t a problem. “Diversifying style is what keeps people coming!” is what she said. 

You also had tattoos. Your body was etched with botanical sketches of ferns, ivy and strawberry leaves that wrapped around your form. From your ankles to your shoulders and wrists. This was not a problem for the club, either. With the mix of your aesthetic and your style of dance, you were known as a faery at the club. This led you to develop a regular audience who enjoyed such stylings. 

You breathe out. The one person who hasn’t seen you yet was Hajime. Guilt saturated your chest. He’d ask when you were performing, and you would say during his patrol time.  You knew he wouldn’t judge you. And yet the thought of him watching you was nerve wracking. What if he didn’t like your art? Both your tattoos and your dance were integral to you. What would happen if he didn’t think you were good enough? No. No thinking of that now. 

The music began. You stepped forward once before lifting into the wind. The sheer fabric of your skirt trailed behind you as you take the pole in your hands. Transitioning from flag stance to a windmill, your leg hooked the pole firmly and propelled you around once more. The final piece of your short performance was to elongate and stretch your body, hand reaching for the crowd as you bend just slightly back. A single leaf curling out from a stem.

Your eyes opened upon the applause of patrons. Scanning the crowd, you froze upon seeing him. Umemiya was clapping, pride and awe reflected in the depth of his eyes. Your chest tightened. 

A soft landing and a bow later, you were on your way to the dressing room. Your hands pressed into your cheeks to comfort the bite of embarrassment. Your mind ran with words to explain your avoidance. You asked the world for a moment to think, and the world said absolutely not. Hot hands grab yours without mind to the sweat on your palms. 

“Your dance was beautiful! You are beautiful!” His voice filled the hallway and drained your head of rumination. “Just like that one painting – ” Hajime pulled the backs of your fingers to his lips as he thought. He was a beauty with his nose scrunched with concentration.  “When you reached out..... Creation of Adam!” Something hitched in your throat, eyes wide and mouth agape. Umemiya’s words continued to cascade over you, “Your tattoos made me think of the one with the lady on the swing, too – because of all the flowers.” 

“The Swing?” You ask, too dumbfounded to even contemplate your prior pity party. You felt your insides warm up from such high praise. “Do... do you like art, Hajime?” 

“I like you,” Umemiya’s gaze entrapped you in their intensity, “I never really got into it before, but I saw that you had a lot of paintings and books about the arts and dance so I did some lookin’ up about it.” He laughed, “I like the ones with gardens in ‘em.” He thumbed at a sprawling ivy vine curling at your wrist. Adoration bloomed with his words. 

Your lip trembles and you shove your face into him to cover up the sniffles. A gentle kiss planted onto your temple, “Sorry if I upset you coming here. Tsubaki said she was dancing tonight so I came with some of the guys for a drink.”

“Figured she did this,” You muttered into his shirt, “I should be the one whose sorry. I should’ve been upfront. I was just-“

“I get scared, too. Don’t even worry about it. I would’ve waited for you to be ready,” The warmth of his voice soothed your lingering nerves. His chest jerked with a huff, “Tsubaki was just scheming.”

“Glad she did.” 

[whiskersz]

Husk/Angel/Reader, reader coming out as gender-fluid but is mostly masc aligned but has to put up with misgendering bc of liking fem fashion and how they support reader

Yay, poly relationship! I hope you enjoy the little fic and the format, decided to mix up hcs and ficlet :)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

When you come out as Genderfluid, both Angel and Husk are very supportive; you guys have been dating for a while at this point, and they were already aware of your struggles with gender, but they never minded one bit, just wishing for you to be happy and healthy, and to eventually find out what fits you best, whether that meant discovering a label you’re comfortable with or deciding not to label yourself at all.

Husk is, let’s say it, not the most well versed in these kind of things, but he does identify as Pansexual so he knows a thing or two about the community. He gathers his own information though, don’t worry, he doesn’t really need you to explain everything to him; unless it’s something deeply personal that only you can explain, in that case he’ll take you aside and ask you in the kindest and most non-judgemental way possible.

Angel is very excited for your discovery! He immediately asks if there’s anything he and Husk can do to make you feel more comfortable, maybe if there’s any pet names you prefer on some particular days or if you need to go shopping for new clothes that are gender affirming. Husk considers the latter a wonderful idea and offers to pay for anything that you might buy, if that is the case.

All in all, both of your boyfriends reveal to be your biggest support system within the Hotel, and probably in the entirety of Hell.

So it’s only natural that, when you three encounter a form of misgendering for the first time, they’re very protective of you over it;

It’s not often that you venture out of the Hotel with both of your partners, but today you three decided to go shopping for a couple new garments; your outfit could be described as fairly neutral, you’ve settled on wearing the most comfortable things in your closet to make it easier for you in case you’ll need to change and try anything on.

The chitter-chatter between Angel and Husk fills your ears and filters out the various cursing and screaming that’s, as usual, coming from every corner of the street – you’re used to it though, this is Hell after all.

You reach your destination fairly quickly, a small shop in an alley situated not much far away from the Hotel; Husk keeps the door open for both you and Angel, holding his pouch tight as it contains the money he’s brought with him in case you decide to buy anything.

The shop is cute, walls wine colored with white rose patterns scattered across them; you comment on it before an employee makes their way towards your little group:

“Welcome, what do you need?” she asks, voice flat, her tail swaying in an almost irritated manner.

You pay no mind to it and answer her question:

“Uhm, I’d like to look at the dresses section please.”

“Sure, follow me.” She gestures at you three before leading you to a different room a bit in the back, which is surely brimming with dresses of any kind.

You glance at the ones more on the chic side, already daydreaming about all the dates you could wear them on; Angel wiggles his eyebrows and nudges you when your eyes are caught by a black mini dress worn by a mannequin.

On the right side are the cuter dresses, the ones that are mostly meant to be worn during summer. They’re pretty, but most of them are of a color that you don’t particularly enjoy.

Right in front of you are exposed a couple of more dapper ones, you notice Husk eyeing those himself and you already know he’s imagining you wearing them, which makes your heart beat slightly faster.

“I’ll be nearby miss, if you need further assistance.”

And with that, the employee leaves. But oh, she used a word that she shouldn’t have.

Before leaving the Hotel, while having a light breakfast with your boyfriends, you had told them about how you specifically wished to be called masculine terms today and that you prayed nobody was going to misgender you. So it’s only natural that Husk’s ears shot up and Angel immediately turned towards her once they realized too.

“Leave it guys, she doesn’t know.” You stopped them before they could say something overly mean.

“Nothin’ wrong with correcting people, sweetheart.” Husk argued;

“Right! Hey toots-“ Angel calls her over once more, explaining the misunderstanding and communicating to her your preferred terms today since she is going to be helping and working with you for a while. He does so with such authority that she profoundly apologizes by the end of it, which is rare for anybody in Hell.

“Stand up for yourself when we’re not around too, alright?” Husk reminds you once the exchange between Angel and the employee is over.

“The old man’s right,” Angel teases, “We don’t want you feeling uncomfortable. But am I glad you didn’t have to interact with that woman because man, she was an ass at first!”

You shush him rather quickly, scared she might still be in hearing distance. Husk doesn’t help you at all, way too busy nodding at Angel’s statement.

Once they make sure one last time that everything is alright, you guys resume looking for the perfect dress.

Husk guides you towards the cheapest but still classy options, lots of dark shades and perhaps even accessories, while Angel proposes various things that are the complete opposite of that.

You know very well that they’re just suggesting though, and you can calmly look for a dress that you like while they check the options they enjoy the most.

You end up finding one that’s of your liking with the help of the employee, who this times seems to be acting in a way nicer manner than earlier; it’s in your favorite color, perfect for any occasion just like you like it, and both your boyfriends thrillingly approve!

 At the end of your little shopping spree – Angel ended up finding something for himself, too – you’re mostly glad that your boyfriends were there to make the whole experience a little less uncomfortable than it would’ve been had you gone alone.

You’re also delighted to see that both of them are ready to stand up for you in any situation, no matter how insignificant you might think of it as.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Mapi x reader where reader gets sent home from the World Cup through an injury and mapi looks after her ?

Ficlet no 1! Thank you for sending me this prompt and I hope you like it! I'm not too sure I like the ending so much but it was good to get back to writing.

Your journey in Australia wasn't meant to end when it did, you were meant to reach the final with the rest of your team but an unfortunate slip from an opposing player in the second half of your 3rd group game meant you were on a flight back home. The England camp had offered to get you help and treatment in Australia so you could stay with the squad but you had decided it was best to head back to your club team and start recovery there. That and you didn't want to do this alone and your love was back in Spain. 

Mapi greeted you at the airport with open arms and a slightly sorry smile. “Let's get you home mi amor.” You didn't say much to that, just nodded your head where you had rested it in the crook of her neck. Mapi took your backpack from you so you could just focus on crutching your way to the car, your suitcases having been taken by your team so you didn't have to worry about them. 

You didn't have to be at the medical facility until tomorrow, the team having seen the x-ray you had done back in Australia and deeming it okay for you to have the day to unwind. You also had the jet lag to get over being as when you pulled up to your shared apartment with Mapi, it was 10am local time but for your body clock it was about 6pm. You prayed that the on and off sleep you got on the plane would be enough for you to be able to stay awake until bedtime here. 

Mapi took your bag upstairs and came back down with your fave old t-shirt of hers and a pair of shorts, the spanish summer being in full force meant that you had to adjust to the climate change too. She helped you into the bathroom and into the walk-in shower where she held you as you cried about the missed tournament and washed your hair when you were ready to get out. 

Mapi had got the next few days off of training so she could be there for you and help you and although you tried to protest at first you were so very grateful for the woman. You couldn't do this on your own, there was too much pain not just physically but mentally. 

Mapi escorted you to every appointment and was the first face you saw when you woke up from surgery, she didn't leave you alone unless you asked her too and she made sure you were as happy and comfortable as you could be. She watched your lionesses in the games that you did and that is something you would never forget. Not after all she had been through surrounding her national team and the tournament. 

When the final was confirmed as England vs Spain you didn't know how to feel. You and Mapi had not spoken yet about her thoughts surrounding the teammates you shared that went back on the letter and were there so this was probably the worst final the two of you could have gotten. 

You had spoken to Leah on the phone the other night when she landed in Australia about your sadness at picking up the injury and not being there and how she must feel too. It was easy to talk to her and get the advice she had for you and you were so happy she got to go watch them in person. Her love for football was contagious. 

On the evening before the final you and Mapi sat down to talk, she had told you she couldn't watch the game but she wanted you too so she was going to go for an extra session in the gym if that was okay with you. Which of course it was you didn't want to put her through the harm of watching a team she should be on. 

You watched your team play their hearts out, you had your Mary Earps shirt on in honour of her fight for Nike to print her shirt and you couldn't be prouder. When the final whistle blew and it confirmed the loss you were heart broken for the girl. You were quick to pull up your group chat and send a message off that you hoped would help them and make them see they did your country proud before you closed the TV off. You couldn't watch the Spanish side pick up the trophy, not today. You were just pulling on your shoes when the front door clicked open and Mapi walked through, take-out bag in hand. 

“I was just about to head out to come find you. I have a 30 minute walk to do today which would have gotten me to the gym.” You explained as you tugged your half on the shoe back off again. 

“As soon as the final whistle blew I made sure I was heading back to you. I'm sorry he won.” You knew what he she was talking about and you knew that Mapi was going to struggle with this for a while. Playing for your country is always such an honour but not when you have to be abused to do it. 

“I’m sorry he won too. Let's not talk about it, it doesn't deserve our time. What have you got here?” You grabbed the bag off the fake blonde and headed for the kitchen, your stomach letting you know how hungry you actually were. 

It might not have been the result either of you had wanted and the injury you picked up was also another reason to want to put this world cup behind you, but what did shine through is the love you and Mapi had for each other. No matter what was thrown your way you would deal with it together.

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 3

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

Steve never liked to admit it out loud because it was very un-Alpha of him. But he actually really loved building nests. He loved the back and forth, the cooperation, the trust an Omega had to have in him to let him into that space, into that inherently Omegan trait, to allow him to help build something that only a mate would be allowed to enter.

It was a deeply intimate thing to share.

Alphas weren’t supposed to find real joy in something so Omegan.

That was supposed to be just a thing Alphas did to make their Omega’s happy, something they did purely for their mate not out of their own enjoyment. Steve… Steve genuinely loved making them.

Loved seeing all the different styles, and when he built them with an Omega, he loved seeing how comfortable that Omega was just burying themselves within it when it was done, loved curling up in the final product with them and just relaxing until the next stage of their heat reared its ugly head.

Steve loved every part of it.

And Eddie was just, throwing pillows at him, that dimpled smile unwavering. He just seemed so happy, his scent as pleasant as a warm summer breeze through the mountains. Made him want to go camping. He hadn’t been camping in years, now he longed for it.

“Alright, we have the sort of shape” Eddie announced, staring down at what definitely was not a typical nest shape, his hands on his hips, pleased smile on his face. Steve was nothing if not extremely supportive. It sort of reminded Steve of a splat. Like a comic book splat shape, he loved it. “…We do, right? Is this—do you think—”

“I think it’s perfect” Steve didn’t hesitate, and Eddie’s beaming grin was his reward. “Now for the blankets, we gotta add some structure to it.”

“Ughhh I’ve never been good at that, nothing ever stays tucked in like it’s supposed to” so many assumptions as to what Nests were supposed to look like. Steve really had to look into just where Eddie was getting all these assumptions from, what his sources were, because they sucked.

“Dooooo you want it to be tucked in properly? Nests can be loose too, it’s all about personal comfort.”

“…Should I want it to be tucked in?” Steve felt his heart break a little. Eddie really just… didn’t know. He had no experience. For someone older than himself it was heartbreaking that nobody had ever just… helped him with it. sure, he said he had his Uncle, but how experienced was his uncle with Omegas?

Probably not very experienced if this was the result. Not his uncle’s fault, it wasn’t his fault.

“How about this, we tuck it in, and then we see how you feel about it. How’s that sound?” Eddie looked at him for a moment, then back down at the nest, then back at him, as if assessing whether or not it was a good idea, Steve just waited. He’d already told Eddie that nests were personal, were unique to the Omega, there was no sense in repeating it.

“… Do you think we have time for that?”

“Sure, you’re still pre-heat, should have enough time to get at least two nests built before your heat actually hits, plus… you have me here Eddie, you’re not on your own, there’s no rush, I’ve got you.” This could be just as much a learning experience, as it could be a helpful aid to the Omega’s mental state during future Heats.

He’d know what he wanted, he’d know how to build a nest he could be comfortable in, he wouldn’t second guess himself anymore. He’d be okay.

“Okay… tuck em in for me, big boy” for him. Do it for him. An instruction from an Omega to an Alpha, not a request, an instruction.

Almost a command.

Steve felt himself shiver in delight, the urge to please, to be good enough, to impress his Ome—

No. Not his. Eddie wasn’t his. He shook his head. He was his patient. Dammit. Control yourself he chastised himself. He was in control, this was a vulnerable Omega, not his Omega, he was at work, and he was doing his job.

Plus, it was Eddie Munson for crying out loud!! He distinctly remembered finding Eddie Munson irritating. Where was that irritation now? Dammit.

“Steve?” Shit, Steve looked up, startled by the soft, hesitant question, he was looking at him, eyes wide, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Right! Yeah, shit—tuck em in, got it.” He was fine. Totally fine, nothing to worry about. Not like he’d just zoned out around an omega in heat. Definitely not like he’d just done that. It’d be fine. It’d have to be fine, his scent was pretty much all over the room at that point, his hands had been on the base materials of Eddie’s nest, that Omega wouldn’t let any other Alpha near it now.

Steve couldn’t give his position up to another Alpha. It’d be a goddamn bloodbath if one tried.

So he tucked those blankets in, one by one he kept to the funky shape Eddie had laid out, he put that little slip up to the back of his mind, and made absolutely certain that every blanket would remain tucked in nicely until the nest had a nice lip around the edges, leaving little gaps here and there where things collected from Eddie’s pack could be tucked in without risking the structure.

He did all of that, then invited Eddie to sit in the middle of it with him, he spent all that time meticulously doing all of that, knowing deep down, predicting the moment Eddie looked at those walls and with a little frown pinched between his brows, said “…I don’t like it.”

Steve just laughed, not unkindly, just a soft little laugh, then tilted his whole body to the side to knock into Eddie’s shoulder “Alright, then let’s drape em. C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it, so it stays put when things get messy.” It was worth it. The time he’d taken to make such a sturdy base was worth it to make sure Eddie knew exactly what he wanted in a nest.

Even if it meant undoing and redoing all of his hard work, just knowing Eddie would know, would be okay building his nests during future heats without him, made it all worth it.

Part 5

[cha-melodius]

💘💚🧡 or ♥️ for the kiss ficlet- your choice!

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling (ok, so the main heart I chose is listed above, buuut I also threw in first kiss (red) and mutual pining (arrow) because why not? read all the kiss ficlets)

In retrospect, he probably should have expected this.

When the heat had gone out in their building, they probably should have just bit the bullet and gotten one of their friends to put them up. But Pez was out of the country and hadn’t left Henry a key—rude—and June and Nora just had a small couch that’d barely fit Henry.

It was fine. It wasn’t gonna be that cold, and anyway they’d shared a bed before that one time when they’d road tripped to Texas in the summer and the hotel had messed up their reservation. They’re best friends. They regularly snuggle up against each other on the couch during movie night. It’s fine.

Alex is genuinely warm when he wakes up, so much so that he thinks the heat has come back on in the night. But no, the only furnace is his roommate, who’s currently plastered to his back. Alex shifts a little, but he doesn’t want to disrupt Henry when he’s sleeping so peacefully. So what if Alex is currently playing the role of an oversized teddy bear. He’s not complaining.

Henry wakes slowly, nuzzling his face a little into the back of Alex’s neck, and ok, that’s a little much for Alex’s poor heart to take. He can handle the casual physical intimacy, the hugs and friendly touches—dishes them out as much as Henry, in fact. But this is far too close to the quiet, secret desires of his heart, the ones he’s never been able to act on for fear of fucking up such a good thing. Henry’s arms tighten around him as he hums contentedly, and a moment later Alex could swear he feels Henry’s lips against his neck.

“Uh, H?” Alex croaks out.

Henry freezes, his entire body going stiff. “Shit,” he breathes against Alex’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean—”

He tries to pull away, but Alex catches him by the wrist and holds him tight, then turns over so that they’re facing each other, so close that Alex can count every one of his eyelashes. Jesus, he’s so fucking beautiful. There’s something in his eyes that makes Alex pause, that makes him settle Henry’s arm around his waist and scoot even closer, even though they’re only inches apart. Henry exhales shakily, but he doesn’t try to pull away again.

“Alex?” he murmurs. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying this,” Alex replies. “Being in your arms.”

“Is that… something you like?”

“Mm,” Alex hums in confirmation. “You?”

Henry lets out a breath, a little smile curling onto his lips. “Very much.”

Emboldened, Alex nuzzles a little closer, until their noses are brushing. “I also liked it when you kissed my neck.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “I’d be up for more. Kissing, I mean. If that’s something you—”

He gets what he wants: Henry kisses him, a gentle, brief press of his lips to Alex’s. Then he’s trying to pull away, but Alex just pushes forward, letting his lips part and welcoming Henry in. It’s a slow, lazy slide of lips and swipe of tongues, the kind of kiss that feels like it could go on forever, and Alex is inclined to let it. Apparently, so is Henry, because they kiss for some obscene amount of time before he finally breaks out of it.

“Should we get up, do you think?”

Alex just tightens his hold, snuggling closer. “Why? ’S cold out there.”

“Right you are, love,” Henry laughs, and kisses him again.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congratulations!!

If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?

Thank you!

(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)

Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️

Of mates and mer-dudes

Words: 996

Rated: T

Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water

“Hammer.” 

“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 

“Very funny. I said hammer.” 

“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 

Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 

“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 

“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 

“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 

“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 

Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 

“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”

“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 

Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 

“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 

Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”

Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 

He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 

“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 

There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.

He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  

“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 

Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 

Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.

“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”

His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.

Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  

“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 

“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 

He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 

“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 

“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 

“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 

Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 

“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 

“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 

As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 

For now, he’s got other things to think about. 

More celebration ficlets

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

steddie time travel s3 ficlet, Part 1

Ao3, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

"Harrington! Customers!"

Pins and needles flood Steve's limbs as Robin's voice slowly comes into focus, his eyes still scrunched closed with sleep. The tiredness is heavy in his bones, like he's been asleep for years in the oddly cold back room of Family Video.

"Dingus!"

Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep on his break. Actually, he doesn't remember taking his break at all. Or even coming into Family Video. In fact, the last thing he remembers was covered in black and red slime-

"DINGUS! YOUR BREAK IS SO OVER!"

Steve forces his eyes open to witness the too-white walls of a break room that burned down a year ago. Frantic hands run over the garish blue and red of the tacky sailor uniform he hated, the same uniform he lit on fire in his backyard with Robin before the start of her senior year. Somehow, it's back. All of it. It's all come back to haunt him.

Robin from a year ago seems to also be back to haunt him -or maybe she's here as his savior- either way, she's just as loud as ever as she kicks the swinging door to the cramped back room in. It hits the wall with a crack, causing a jolt of both familiarity and dread to shoot up Steve's spine.

He waits for the tell-tale chime of a clock that was still ringing in his ears before he woke up in the summer of '85 or Robin's face to start warping into the melted mass of tentacles hiding in the Creel attic that will certainly become a common occurrence in his nightmares, but the only thing in front of him is Robin's all too common apathetic yet disappointed stare.

"I gave you an extra 7 minutes to sleep, but that little sampling-brat and her terror-troop are back for more and I swear to God, Harrington, I cannot deal with her again today, I just can't-"

Steve cuts off her ramble by scrambling out of his seat with more effort than either of them had ever put into this job, squeezing past her and out of the small doorway.

"Steve, where are you- hey!" Robin says as she latches into Steve's shoulder before he can finish his beeline out the door.

"I'll explain later if you still exist," Steve responds as he turns out of her grasp, shoving past the group of teens making their way into the store. He can hear Robin's small shouts after him, but her exasperation with him is nothing new and frankly the least of his worries.

Starcourt, somehow, is still standing. Clamping down on his rising heart rate, Steve glances around for any sign of the current date, or even year. Everything is exactly the same as it was a year ago, but Steve knows nothing he sees can be trusted. Not with the visions Max described, that's for goddamn certain. While he doesn't know enough science fiction shit like Dustin to know if he jumped universes or is in a different reality or whatever the fuck, he can at least place a little bit of faith in his ability to distinguish dreams and visions from reality.

His frantic pace along with the extremely out of place sailor costume draws in a few curious stares, but again, least of his worries. No one's faces warp into slimy horrors and none of the walls start crawling with vines, no flickering lights, no distorted voices in his head, no signs of the upside down at all. As comforting as that should be in theory, that means it's something else entirely and definitely something Steve can't figure out on his own.

He finds himself leaving a trail of pinches down his arm as he reaches the far side of the mall, posters for the theater coming into view. A particular poster catches his eye, BACK TO THE FUTURE highlighted in yellow and orange in all its sci-fi font glory.

Fuck. 1985. Again.

He presses his fingertips into the glass covering the poster as his breaths come out raggedy and sharp. C'mon, wake up man. It's all some weird ass fever dream, you probably just hit your head again.

He waits a few seconds and prays to wake up. Nothing. Obviously, he thinks. He's stuck, somehow, a year ago, with no clue how it happened or how to fix it or if anything here is even real in the first place.

Steve isn't the guy who comes up with plans, okay? That's more of a Nance thing, and Steve is totally fine with his role as the muscle. Unfortunately, right now there seems to be absolutely no Nancy Wheeler, and Steve has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.

He steps back from the entrance to the theater and spins around probably faster than he should for someone who maybe just got shot through time, and comes face to face with a small music store labeled Hot Wax Records in some sort of groovy 70's style font. That's not what gets him though.

Steve stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the guy at the front desk. His hair's a little shorter than he last remembers it, hitting just above his shoulders instead of just below them. The man is wearing a familiar denim vest with slightly fewer patches and less grime than was on it when it was adorning Steve's shoulders, but familiar all the same. What gets Steve though is that the man at the counter is white-knuckling the edge with one hand while the other braces and claws itself around his neck, a look of equal parts horror and recognition strewn across his features. He looks on the verge of screaming, yet his eyes are forcefully locked into Steve's with a determination Steve had only seen from him once before.

They both falter a half step forward as Steve struggles to find his tongue.

"Eddie?"

[tough-n-dumb]

lullabies

this ficlet is shamelessly inspired by the ending of No Reason to Be Afraid by @insignificant457 because i couldn't get inej wishing kaz a goodnight out of my head. thank you for writing this beautiful pre-canon fic—all credit goes to you!

“Goodnight,” she calls after him, then winces. Goodnight? You’ve just joined a gang, Inej, have a little dignity. He pauses, already halfway out of view, then leans back to look around the doorframe, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Goodnight,” he says stiffly. She gives him a weak smile, which he registers before leaving without further comment.

Read below or read on AO3

It becomes a habit; a nightly routine. A goodnight, Kaz her closing remarks of most evenings—or sometimes in the dark and early hours of the morning, depending on the day. More often than not, he’ll murmur it back. If he doesn’t, she’ll give him a little tsk and a hushed, chiding manners before slipping out the window. 

They spend more time together than she thought they would—probably more than he thought as well. But after jobs, she begins to linger, the windowsill in his attic rooms now her designated perch. From it, she can watch both him and the city like the spy he’s crafting her into. She likes to dangle her feet into the cool air and observe the stars that burst through Ketterdam’s cloudy sky. They’re in different places in the night sky here than in the Ravkan plains and mountains, but the constellations are familiar. She is so far from home, but the longer she spends in the Slat, in her perch in this dangerous boy’s room, the more the definition of home starts to change (though for her, home has always been other people). 

She sometimes uses variations like sleep well or sweet dreams though she knows he’ll most likely have neither. She tries not to worry about that; tries not to listen to his pacing above her, the way his bed will creak in the middle of the night from him tossing and turning. She can only imagine what he sees when he closes his eyes in the dark. She understands what it’s like to face your demons even in sleep. 

When she uses these softer variations, he’ll often smirk and offer a wry remark in return. Something along the lines of, “What’s next Wraith, you’ll sing me lullabies?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” she shoots back. She gets comfortable, teasing him like this, and it pleases her that he doesn’t seem to let anyone else get away with it. 

But what neither of them know—and how could they?—is that years down the line when those same nightmares come knocking she will do just that, lending him the lilting words her parents sang to lull her to sleep whispered into his hair, the rich Suli consonants curling around them in the darkness. Their voices, they find, are one of the best ways to bring each other back from the crumbling ledge of their memories—though they’ve always known to some degree that that was the case. 

One night, she’s reclined on the sill, legs stretched out and head tilted back, the warmth of summer bathing over her even after the sun has set. She yawns and rubs her eyes, and when she opens them, Kaz is staring at her. He clears his throat and looks away, shuffling some papers on his desk in a manner she knows is just for show. 

“Go rest, Inej.” It’s a dismissal, but not an unkind one. Simply a directive. She nods, rubs her eyes once more and sits up all the way, about to wish him a goodnight when—

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” He mumbles it while still staring down at his mess of papers. 

She freezes and lowers her hands, a big smile spreading on her face. 

“What was that?”

“Go to bed, Inej.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what you said.” She is absolutely grinning now, much too pleased that she’s taught her Barrel boy niceties. She thinks his face is slowly turning pink, the tips of his ears bright with color. 

When he finally looks up at her, she feels her chest tighten at the sight. His eyes are so dark they’re nearly black in the room’s low light. The shadows crease his face into hard lines, but yes, there it is—a high blush spreading across his sharp cheeks. 

“Goodnight,” he finally repeats. “And have the sweetest of dreams, darling.” He’s injected a gratuitous amount of sarcasm into the words, but the way his eyes dart over her face—and, she thinks, settle on her lips before he looks back down at his desk—gives him away. 

“Goodnight, Kaz,” she says before slipping into the night. Tonight, she isn’t plagued with her usual nightmares. Tonight, she dreams of a leather-clad hand in hers, warmed by the sun, and sea breeze in her hair.

[raayllum]

Do you have any headcanons of callum being protective/considerate/thoughtful with rayla? I'm so in love with how gentle he was with her this season.

Callum planting flowers from the Silvergrove in the castle gardens as a surprise and then convincing her to take a 'moonlit' stroll with him one night once they're ready so he can show them off

It's non traditional but he knows the main reason she hates the water is because she always feels unsteady on her feet so he gets her a grip mat for the tub so she can feel more centered

Redoing her braid for her whenever it comes undone and stitching up little tears and frayed edges in her clothing/cloaks because he knows how to sew

On that note: getting her a new cloak because her old one is tattered and doing up the clasp for her / tugging her in close by the hood for nose and mouth kisses if he's not smiling too much

Him and Ezran collecting a whole bunch of things during the timeskip to save up to give to her so that the castle can feel like home

So many forehead kisses and just gentle hand squeezes. Three squeezes means "I love you" and he'll trace the words onto her back or side sometimes when they're just laying together

He definitely talked privately to Opeli (and probably the guards) after the 5x01 throne room debacle and gave them a piece of his mind / new protocol to follow when it comes to them being concerned about Rayla's actions (ficlet here)

For that matter: absolute death glares to anyone who gives her a hard time at the castle / any diplomatic function (and probably almost causes a political incident or two over it)

Him murmuring the sappy love poetry he's read in her ear even when she rolls he eyes and can't quite hide her smile, working up his nerve to write personal poems of his own for her

Little things he did this season like being the one to handle the reigns of their mount the bulk of the time as soon as they started sharing because he knows she's not a morning person and is a light sleeper, so she holds onto his middle and he lets her doze for most of the day whenever he can

Requesting mints at inns they stay in that don't have any already / using magic to carve the soap into little shapes if they aren't that way to begin with and leaving them, once again, as little surprises for her to discover

If/when Rayla wants or needs time away from Stella (sparring perhaps) the cuddlemonkey is almost always with Callum and he makes sure she's cared for too. She's fussy about getting brushed and hard to pin down thanks to the six hands, so he'll usually help get her sitting still while Rayla does the actual grooming

Him using cooling spells for her when it's hot on summer nights (like in 4x07) and heating his hands to lay on her tummy when she gets period cramps

Normally he'd never throw his weight around as a prince, but he absolutely will on her behalf, whether it's getting something she wants from a servant tea/food wise or making sure they are treated well / have a nice place to stay while travelling

"It's none of your concern--" "It very much is her concern, and watch your tone."

Giving her his scarf whenever it's cold, of course

Making sure she's not overworking her bad wrist and giving little massages to that and her ankles when she's been doing a lot of jumps/movements that day, especially as they get older

His sketchbook is equally hers (even if she uses it far less often of course) and there's a few pages near the back designated for her to leave notes or doodles or whatever she wants when she's bored and/or he's not using it (he's very proud of how her drawing has improved)

Getting heavy duty enchanted blinds from Lux Aurea for her room so it can keep the sun out so she can sleep in / can give her room more of a twilight light quality so it can remind her of the Silvergrove (if she wants)

There are some meetings he can't get out of as crown prince but they're long and boring so he does his best to convince Rayla to go and spend her afternoon doing something she wants. (She usually stays for at least the first half anyway to support him and Ez)

Drawing memories and stories she tells him about her family and then giving her the pages so she can hold onto / remember them

Rayla still having a hard time articulating how she's feeling sometimes and getting upset/angry/embarrassed when it comes out wrong, so he takes her hand and gets her to take a steadying breath and start over with a gentle "Try again. What are you meaning to say?" if she says something obtuse/that comes out wrong

Ofc taking care of her when she's sick no matter how disgruntled or snotty she gets and reading to her quietly/stroking her hair until she falls asleep

Taking her to his favourite places in the castle/kingdom/Pentarchy for dates and private times to hang out alone, insisting on carrying their picnic basket because he's a Prince, Rayla, and chivalry isn't dead

Callum working very hard to learn traditional Moonshadow elf (no matter how much she teases him for his pronunciation) so he can use it to propose to her

[antimonyandthyme]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to five other writers! 💗

(if you want!! no pressure)

<33 Thank you Stevie, this was very lovely to think about! Also thank you to @drivestraight, @miamimaiden and @kritischetheologie for dropping this in my inbox! I feel like I have a bit of a recency bias because I've been enjoying rereading my latest ones, but that's likely because I have my head stuck in carcar gutter.

From AO3:

a summer kind of heat I really enjoy because it's just very simple and sweet. Very summery. A moment in time and then it's gone. Also it was incredibly fun to write carcar bickering.

the better half of a good time I like because it was a little painful to imagine. And carcar were very painful to each other first, before even deigning to show any tenderness, which is always interesting to write.

Shutter Speed remains the most complete fic I've ever written I think. Martian being prickly and soft and irrevocably in love.

Out of That Good Night, I Was Born Into Your Arms is very filthy, and very soft. Which is very on brand for me. Smick my beloved.

Down in the Depths We Make Our Home was quite ambitious for me, exploring a Pacific Rim AU before the drift was even established. I think it worked out really well!

From Tumblr:

Time Travel Martian AU is probably one of the most devastating pieces I've written. Also I did it with @sebrrari, which is a blessing.

Linger from the Sebchal Wolf AU series was a treat to write. I will never get over Charles challenging Seb to a hunt and letting him go first.

This Martian retirement ficlet is something I'm very soft for, especially because it's told through the eyes of a impossibly kind outsider (Oscar Jack Piastri, witnessing his manager go through all kinds of heartache).

Carcar The Last of Us snippet because it's a TLOU AU and I just love this universe. It's so fun to imagine Carlos as Joel, just wreaking havoc in this world over Oscar, a stray who just happened to be saddled to Carlos on what is basically a never-ending road trip in fungus hell.

I take it back, this Prosenna snippet is probably the most devastating piece I've ever written.