#thank you for the prompts I love these so much

[reddbl]

+1 ! 🐶

Here is my HeiShin Valentines Exchange gift for @yumerikka! I love both your prompts so much, and so I did both. Hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy making them~🥰 -red

Also thank you @heishinvalentineexchange2025 for holding the event! It was a blast!🥳

[marvelstoriesepic]

Five days, Five bouquets

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Prompt: "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?"

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: talk of a fake marriage for the sake of a mission; fluffff

Author’s Note: This is written for the writing challenge of @elixirfromthestars ♡ I wasn’t planning on writing something so soon because I’ve still got a project going on right now, but your prompts and everything were just so alluring, I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy this, my dearest. And I am almost entirely certain that this won’t be my only entry to your writing challenge, because I've got some more ideas lol

Divider by @saradika-graphics ♡

Masterlist

“Again, Bucky?”

You don’t even try to mask your breathless laughter, the warmth of it slipping through as you rise from your seat.

The front door clicks shut behind Bucky and he scuffs off his boots half-heartedly on the door mat. There is a bouquet of flowers in his hand. And an even larger grin on his face.

The table before you is still cluttered with the remnants of your cover - documents, notes, a meticulously crafted facade of a life together.

A life that isn’t real, except for moments like these, when the borders become smudged just enough to make you wonder.

“‘Course, sweetheart,” he says, still smiling so wide, but his tone does not hold a trace of irony. “What kinda guy d’you think I am? Four days in a row and I just stop?” He scoffs as if the mere thought offends him. His voice is honeyed.

He stalks over to you standing at the table and holds the bouquet out for you. It is an understatedly beautiful arrangement of dusky pink roses, fluffy ruffled carnations, ivory lilies with petals curling slightly at the edges. Wisps of silvery foliage peek through, adding a breath of frost to the warmth. And then there are the deep inky leaves interwoven among the blooms, like something divine pulled from the shadows.

You take them with fingers that begin to tremble just slightly. His hand brushes over yours. A blush makes its way up your face just like every time.

You have been undercover for five days, posing as a married couple by orders from Nick Fury. And every day, even though it’s not at all necessary for you both to keep your cover, Bucky brings you a bouquet when he gets ‘home’ from his fake job.

He is embedded in a high-profile consulting firm, shadowing a suspect deeply tangled in covert operations, while you take a closer look at his wife. She’s not at all innocent. She manages high-stakes charity galas, the kind that funnel money into places they shouldn’t be. You play the devoted wife, hosting brunches, attending yoga classes she goes to, letting cautious friendships lead you to the information you need.

Five days. Five bouquets.

Each one different, but all of them hold some unspoken thing. Something that makes you shiver.

The choking in your throat is disguised with a roll of your eyes. “You do know we’re supposed to be laying low, right? Kinda hard when you’re single-handedly funding the local florist,” you tease rather lightly.

Bucky chuckles, low but bright, and you swear you feel the sound more than you hear it. “Oh c’mon, doll. Long as we’re playin’ house, I gotta keep my wife happy.”

This is a joke. It is all a joke. But your pulse is not laughing, only speeding up, tripping at the way he puts emphasis on wife. As if the word fits too well in his mouth, as if he could get used to it.

Bucky has always been a gentleman to you. Even outside of missions. But since you started this one, moving into the same house on the outskirts of town for the sake of your cover, the grumpiness and stoicism that usually surround his aura at the compound are completely lost here with you. You’ve never seen him smile as much as you have in the last five days.

You clutch the bouquet a little tighter, take a closer look, and take in the many appealing colors and scents. “Thank you, Bucky. I love those,” you say warmly.

His expression falters just a fraction like it does every time, not quite knowing what to do with genuine gratitude when it’s meant for him. Although you show it to him all the time. A flicker of something unguarded passes over his features before he covers it with a scoff that only makes it out halfway. He looks off to the side, shifting his weight. “Well, can’t have my wife thinkin’ I'm slipping already now, can I?” he laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears just the slightest bit of pink.

You turn with a huffed laugh and perform the task of putting away the flowers. Shaking your head, you start to get highly aware of the wedding band around your finger, a piece of fiction Tony gave you to wear. It looks so real, yet it is a lie. And you hate it.

“Do I need to remind you that we’re not actually married?” The words fall with amusement but they sit heavier in the air than they should.

The ring fits perfectly, Tony made sure of that. But it still somehow presses against your skin. As if to remind you that Bucky is not truly yours.

Bucky doesn’t miss a beat. You see him tilting his head from your peripherals as you reach for a vase. His smile is softened. “Don’t matter, sweetheart. Might as well treat you like my wife.” His voice is quieter now, less teasing. But sure.

The kitchen and living room are already brimming with the past four days of his affections.

One arrangement graces the coffee table, another stands by the window, and two more are carefully nestled between books on the shelf at the wall to your left. A home suffused with color, with life, with something neither of you dares to call by name.

You feel the warmth of his gaze on you. He doesn’t say anything, standing there relaxed, still with that proud and fond smile on his face, watching you as if he is engraving in his memory the way you fuss over where to place this latest offering.

And maybe you take just a little longer than necessary because if you turn too soon, you’ll have to meet his eyes.

And you don’t know if you can right now.

You’re not sure if you’d be able to look away.

But you know you should. Because this is not real.

But maybe - and this is the hope speaking - it could be someday.

“Imagine someone thinking of you and buying you flowers.”

- sleepyurl

[navybrat817]

Hi Navy 👋

I wanted to send something in for ficlet friday (valentines day). I hope it's alright

Can I request something with Bucky Barnes (maybe beefy bucky) and a shy reader, where they spend valentines day in bed watching movies with cookies, cuddling and kisses and at the end, he surprises the reader, perhaps the reader wants to surprise him as well (you can choose only if you want to 🥺🙈). He is just so gentle and sweet (romantic too) 🥰🫠

With these prompts:

“You give the best hugs.” and “Have I told you I love you today?”

Please? Thank you so much 🥺❤️

Sorry, I got carried away

I hope I did this justice, lovely!

Best Hugs and Kisses

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You spend your first Valentine's Day with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 930

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, sweetness, kisses, cuddling, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You smiled as you snuggled closer to Bucky in bed. You still couldn’t believe it was your first Valentine’s Day together. He had asked you more than once if you wanted to go out to eat or go anywhere special, but you were a bit of a homebody and didn’t mind a quiet day in with cuddling, movies, and treats. You had a feeling he’d enjoy it, too, since he also didn’t mind staying in. He assured you it would be the perfect day, and it was.

You had to admit that cuddling was one of the best parts of the day. It was a perfect moment of closeness, and every little touch built an intimate connection between the two of you. The warmth that radiated from his beefy build created a sense of safety and care, and the soft sound of his breathing and occasional laughter provided a sense of calm. Time seemed to slow down, and the outside world faded away until it was just the two of you. You were completely at ease with the man you loved.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, offering you a bite of his heart shaped cookie. You graciously accepted and tried to ignore the heat that rose to your cheeks when he wiped a crumb away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Something I think you should know.”

“What is it?” you asked curiously, tilting your head back to get a better look at your handsome boyfriend.

He broke eye contact, only because he brought his mouth to your ear. “You give the best hugs.”

You giggled, partially from his lips tickling your ear and the rest because your face felt like it was on fire. “No, I don’t. You do,” you smiled bashfully, ducking your head down.

All your life you had been a bit on the shyer side, content to stay in the background instead of being front and center. Not many took notice of you, and you still weren’t sure some days how you got Bucky’s attention, but you saw each other in the soft shadows and created your own spotlight together. One you didn't mind sharing with each other. It was a beautiful give and take.

And he really did give the best hugs, enveloping you in his loving embrace every time.

Chuckling, too, he tipped your chin back up. “Yeah, you do. And you give the best kisses.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at the soft touch of his lips, your heart melting from the tenderness. There was no rushing, only a slow and delicate pressure like the brush of a feather. When that kiss ended, he began another and another. They stretched on, neither of you wanting it to end as you shared one breath. They were the kind of kisses that dreams were made of.

He smiled as he pulled away, a soft twinkle in his steel eyes. He likely heard how fast your heart was beating and felt the tremble that moved your body. “See? The best kisses,” he said.

You hid your face in his chest. If he kept talking like that you’d turn into a puddle. But you smiled when you realized his heart was beating as fast as yours. Maybe he wasn't as bashful as you, but it was nice to know that kissing you and being close affected him, too.

“Hey, hey. No hiding,” he said, running a hand up and down your back. “I still have to give you your present.”

“You didn't have to get me anything,” you said once you lifted your head.

The super soldier’s jaw dropped. “It’s our first Valentine's Day. I'd be a rotten boyfriend if I didn't get you something.”

“You’re far from rotten, Bucky Barnes,” you smiled, both of you sitting up so he could reach for the present he had nearby. The heart wrapping paper was sweet and you imagined the cashier swooned when he bought it.

He suddenly looked nervous when he handed it over. “I hope you like it,” he said, tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear.

“I’ll love it,” you promised, carefully opening it. It didn't matter what he gave you since it came from him. “Oh, Bucky…” you whispered, tears instantly blurring your vision.

Inside of the box was a scrapbook titled “Our Love Story”. Blinking the tears away, you slowly opened it and saw a photo of the two of you. It was the first photo you had ever taken together. It was one of your happiest memories. Bucky gave you so many fond memories.

“Do you… like it?” he softly asked as you continued to flip through the pages.

“I love it. Thank you,” you answered in awe. It had how you met, your first date, places you visited, your bucket list, and more. There were blank pages in the back to fill up together, too. It was such a thoughtful, touching gift. “Have I told you I love you today?”

“You have, but I’d love to hear it again,” he winked, pleased that you loved your gift.

You held his face in your hands, not shying away when his eyes met yours. “I love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

His eyes slipped shut, briefly overcome with emotion. “I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered back.

“Now time for your gift,” you smiled, but he stopped you before you could pull away.

“Later,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you as you giggled. “Right now I want one more of those best kisses.”

You'd give him all the kisses he wanted, today and every day.

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bewaryofpity]

please can I request fluff prompt 16: “Move in with me.” with quinn hughes 💛

thank you for requesting ! 🤍

16. “Move in with me.”

.

Quinn liked his own space, his own quiet, his own routine — so much so that, right now, he found himself forced to reconsider. 

It had been one of those days he couldn’t wait to see end. Bad games, bad practices on the road and he was beating himself up more than he had to because he was part of a team, he wasn’t alone in this. Or at least that was what you told him over the phone. They were simple words, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing you had never said before, but somehow this time it was different. He missed you —your touch, your comfort, his side of your bed, the small space in your closet just for him, his toothbrush next to yours. He missed you.

And when he landed back in Vancouver in the middle of the night, the last thing he wanted was to come back to an empty apartment. A cold bed without you to wrap himself around for warmth, without you kissing his face good morning, a lonely breakfast without you hugging his side— he couldn’t bear that.

Before he could think twice, he was already driving to your place. It was nearly two in the morning, and you were surely asleep, but he couldn’t wait for tomorrow, his heart could never wait for you. 

As quiet as possible, he moved around your apartment with ease, scared of waking you up. He was quick, not wasting any more minutes to be close to you and changed into the spare pajamas he kept at your place. Quinn slid between the warm sheets, pulling the comforter up to his chin with a contented sigh. He reached for you, his hand combing through your hair and you nuzzled into him in your sleep. 

“Quinn? What time is it?” You hummed, confused and drowsy from sleep.

“It’s me baby, don’t worry.” He whispered. 

He lightly traced his fingers down your cheek, watching the way you leaned into his palm, the moonlight casting a delicate glow on you through the blinds. Your eyes fluttered open as he ran his thumb along your lower lip, his fingers trembling slightly, almost hesitant, almost apologetic for waking you up. 

“Why’re you here?”

“I missed you.” He said, his voice soft. His hand rubbed soothing circles into the small of your back, so softly, so gentle and so sweet, while you pressed a kiss in the middle of his chest.

“And you couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”

“Nope.” 

You let out a breathy laugh as he dragged out the p. “I have the day off tomorrow, well today, we could—”

“Move in with me.” He interrupted. You were wide awake now, taken aback by his words.

You and Quinn haven’t been dating for that long to be thinking about moving in, but it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought about before. You missed him when he was away, not only during roadies, but also when he went to practice or a game or when both of your schedules didn’t align. You thought that the idea of moving in so soon in the relationship was a bold move, but you felt so much better, so much lighter when he was with you. “Yeah, okay.” 

You sealed your promise with a small kiss to his lips and, cupping your cheek, he leaned down to kiss you again when you parted, lips curling in a smile. He will get to do this everyday, kiss you, hold you, love you, finally come home to you.

[milunalupin]

❤️ with the prompt “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” please!! thank you nicole ily <3

my lovely lovely san happy valentine's day !! thank you for the request ily so much <3

— do you wanna know a secret ?

remus lupin x reader ♥︎ 845 words

The air in the common room was thick with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. Some students were exchanging notes, others were planning for the dance that night, and a few were simply enjoying the sugary sweets scattered across the tables. You, however, found yourself hiding in a corner with your textbook, trying to focus on your charms homework. It wasn’t that you disliked the holiday—it just felt like a reminder of what you didn’t have: someone to share it with.

Of course, there was someone you'd like to spend it with. Remus, your best friend who always seemed to know exactly what you needed, whether it was a laugh, a kind word, or just a quiet moment together.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Remus appeared in the doorway of the common room, his messy hair falling over his eyes, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his cardigan. He caught sight of you almost immediately, and that familiar, warm smile spread across his face. It was the kind of smile that made your heart beat a little faster, but you pushed the feeling away. He was your best friend, and that’s all he could ever be, right?

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. “What are you doing all the way over here?”

You looked up from your book and tried to smile. “Just, uh, trying to get some work done. You know, not everyone is celebrating Valentine’s Day with a dance or chocolates. I’m just not in the mood for all the… fuss.”

Remus nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “I get it. The whole day just feels like a lot of pressure, doesn’t it?” He sat down next to you, shifting a few of your books to the side. “But, you know… if you want, we could just skip all that and hang out. Maybe take a walk around the lake, or—”

You blinked in surprise, cutting him off. “Wait, Sirius isnt forcing you into another double date?"

Remus chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I wasn't really interested in her, it wouldn't have been fun for either of us."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly felt self-conscious. “Oh,” you said, awkwardly fiddling with a pencil. “Well, you don't have to just sit here with me. I mean, you could always ask someone else…”

“C'mon,” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “like I need an excuse to spend time with you. Besides, I don’t need anyone else.” His voice softened at the last part, and his eyes lingered on yours just a moment longer than usual.

For a brief moment, the world felt very still. There was something in the way he said it, something in the way he was looking at you, that made your chest tighten. You’d always known Remus as your closest friend, the person who could make you laugh without even trying, the person who always seemed to understand you in ways no one else could. But hearing those words took you by surprise.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah,” you said softly. “A walk sounds nice.”

The two of you left the common room, walking through the nearly empty corridors. The castle seemed quieter than usual, many couples having gone to Hogsmeade to celebrate the holiday. As you reached the entrance hall, Remus turned toward you, his face more serious now, as though he were gathering the courage to say something.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice hesitant. “Maybe I haven't been as obvious as I thought, but.. I care about you, more than I probably let on. And I guess I’ve been wondering if you.. feel the same?”

Your heart raced at his words, the question hanging in the air between you. It was all so sudden, but somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

You looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the moment in your chest. “Remus,” you said softly, “I’ve always cared about you. You’re my best friend.”

There was a pause, and then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, Remus reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His touch was warm, and you could feel the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“I think I want to be more than that,” he murmured, his thumb lightly brushing over your knuckles.

You felt your breath catch. For a long moment, you just stood there, looking at him, trying to reconcile the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. And then, with a soft laugh, you squeezed his hand.

“I think I want that too,” you said quietly.

Remus smiled, a mixture of relief and happiness in his expression. And just as the first snowflake of the evening drifted down from the sky, he leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead in a tender, quiet kiss—an unspoken promise.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled back, feeling more content than you had in a long time. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Remus.”

[ssentimentals]

NINIIIIIIIII (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) WAAAHHHHH YOUR PROMPT

LIST LOOKS SO YUMMY I CANT WAIT FOR IT!!!!

would i be able to rq prompt no. 1 with dk pls 🥹🩷🩵 and happy carat day!!!!!!!!

- 🫧

awww hi my baby! omg i LOVE the excitement from this message, it's so cute :') of course you can request it, thank you so much for doing it! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

prompt: touch starved/cuddle curse

seokmin knows. knows he can be too much: too touchy, too clingy, too annoying. with time he learned to surpress his desires, moved around like shimmering desire to reach out and touch did not burn under his skin. his ability to adjust in any environment is truly remarkable, his acting skills are so on point that not a single soul knows how deeply he needs physical contact. but any patience can run thin and with additional stress the usual need for closeness leaves him irritated, stripped bare and miserable.

'seokmin?' your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks up and finds you standing in the doorway with a hand raised. 'i knocked twice. sorry, is now a bad time?'

'no-no,' faking a smile is painful but he tries to do so anyway, because he actually likes you and doesn't want you to see him in any other state other than happy. 'come in, sorry, i didn't even hear you.'

you step inside, eyeing him warily. seokmin is sure that you don't see anything attractive in front of you; he probably looks like a worn-out rag and that's not how he wants to ever appear to you. you, however, look wonderful. you always do, at least for him. seokmin loves how any outfit of yours always looks so cozy, so touchable, so cuddly- he shakes his head. god, he's down bad. silently telling himself to get a grip, he asks: 'how can i help you?'

'uno reverse,' you proclaim, frowning. 'how can i help you? you don't look good, seokkie. what's wrong? did something happen?'

seokmin is not sure how to say that he's going to die if he won't hug someone, so what comes out is: 'i'm fine.'

your skeptically raised eyebrow makes it clear that he's busted and when you step closer, leaning on the table a little, his breath hitches. 'do you have a fever?' you ask and without asking reach out and place your hand on his forehead. 'a bit warm. how are you feeling?'

seokmin can't help it- his eyes close on their own accord and he bodily leans forward, chasing your touch. he pushes his forehead closer, his body zings with pleasure just at that little contact. he doesn't see how your eyes widen at this display, how you look confused at first before realization strikes. careful like you're afraid to spook him, you step closer until your legs brush. 'seokkie,' you call out quietly. 'what's wrong?'

seokkie. seokmin shivers at this nickname. in this new city no one called him that and hearing it from you makes him want to cry. he can't tell you what's wrong, doesn't have a courage to do so, but when you hesitantly squeeze his shoulder, he turns fully and opens his arms. one second passes, then another and another - seokmin is ready to die right here and now when you slowly pull yourself into his arms, hugging him tight. the closeness and the warmth of your body make him weak; he buries his head in your shoulder and holds you carefully, afraid to cross the boundary, afraid to spook you, afraid-

'it's okay,' you mumble quietly. 'i don't know what happened, but it's going to be okay.' you pat his back soothingly. 'i'm here. it will be fine. we can hug it out, yeah?'

you don't even know how close to home your words hit. seokmin tries his luck and tightens his arms around you - you don't react anyhow and tension leaves his body as he hugs you close. he hopes you're kind enough to not comment on his rapidly beating heart and tears in his eyes. he hugs you and it really does feel like it will be fine as long as he can stay with you like this.

a/n: i went for touch starved here, hopefully it was okay!! let me know if you liked it <3 - nini

request your own prompt here

[randomshyperson]

Hi Mary, for the writing game can I request Wanda for hand holding #43 please? Thank you! Hope you overcome your writer’s block soon, I’ll be patiently waiting for your next masterpiece 🥰

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly. | warnings: angst(ish), brief mentions of manipulation of free will (magic mind control stuff), dark!wanda.

"I just need to find the right spell." Wanda began to justify herself, even though you didn't say anything. Her hands remain in yours, while you wipe most of the blood with a wet cloth.

It's most likely due to the adrenaline from the fight leaving her body now that she starts to speak.

"I'll find it, I promise. And all of this will stop. We'll be able to go home." She assures you half-desperately, half-breathlessly. You just nod, in no hurry to finish your task. You like touching Wanda, and she almost never lets you now that the marks from the excessive use of the darkhold are so visible on her fingers.

She starts to cry softly, and then louder. You let her. The blood disappears from her hands, but only visibly. You discard the cloth somewhere in the corner of the room, to intertwine your hands together in your lap, and Wanda gives in to bury her face in your collarbone and soak your blouse with tears.

It doesn't take long for her to calm down, and you wait patiently until she does, a small Sokovian hum escaping your lips.

When she speaks again, despite the hoarse, affected tone of someone who has just cried so hard, there is a firmness and desperation in her voice that makes you frown in concern.

“I’ll make us a family again,” she says. “And all the pain will go away.”

You sigh. Wanda doesn’t tell you things, not really. So you don’t understand everything she means to say when she does. You don't understand why she hurts who she hurts, doesn't remember their faces, or their names. You don't remember why you're running, or when it started. Where you're going, or who you're running from. 

All you remember is to follow her lead.

“I’m not in pain, Wanda,” you murmur, your eyes dropping to her black-stained fingers. “I’m happy with you.”

She sobs softly, but you’re distracted by her hands. Your fingers trace hers, those dark tips of hers before you dare ask, even though she never explains much beyond what she thinks you should know:

“Is this what hurts you?”

She shakes her head first before answering. "No, love, this is just a reminder." You raise your curious eyes to her. 

"Of what?" 

"Of the monster that I am." You frown, and Wanda offers you a sad smile. She makes mention of pulling her hands away, but you tighten your grip. She looks ready to protest when you lift one of them to your face, to kiss her open palm and draw a sigh from her. "What are you doing, my love?" She whispers, watching as you run your lips over every inch of her skin. Open palms, and fingertips, not caring about the dark magic stains. Not knowing what they mean. Before repeating the same gesture, on the other hand, you let her know; 

"I love every part of you. Even the parts you think are bad. Unworthy of love. Especially those parts." Wanda chokes on her breath, in shock for a moment. But she doesn't wait for you to finish the gesture on her other hand to tilt her face towards you and kiss your lips.

The black fingers move to grab your cheeks, to deepen the kiss and she feels you smile against her lips.

It's a much more intoxicating sensation than the addiction in the darkhold, and Wanda focuses on this as she surrenders herself to the kiss and pushes the demonic whispers to the back of her mind, letting your needy sounds replace them.

She'll remember this, in the next world she destroys trying to get you back. And in the next, and the next.

[utterlyazriel]

Oh, that's good to know, darling! I was just worried someone was robbin' you! On the other hand... Would you give us your Arthur Morgan fics recs? Tumblr or ao3? <3 if its not too much trouble!

[rubs my hands together like a devious lil fly] why nonnie i would be delighted to share as i've been far too slack in sharing what i've been reading!! in no particular order <3

the leather and lace series by the oh so talented @photo1030 this one is a big currently twenty five (25!) chaptered fic with that dynamic u hunger for when you play the game... like oof, it hits the spot, it scratches the itch, etc etc big ol chefs kiss from sloane <3

as far as dreams go / part two by @serawritesthings mutual pining my goddamn BELOVED this is a big long juicy fic with that sweet, sweet miscommunication! incredible prose and someone who loves arthur the same way i do i reckon <3

of horses and men by @eaaaazygurl any fic that lets the reader be there for arthur is one i'm gobbling down fr. i actually couldn't believe this beauty doesn't have more notes

the caretaker by @immajustvibehere MY BIG SOFTIEEEE like this guy gets it, the prompt was tasty but the delivery? freakin scrumptious

graphite and gratitude by @bimrsadler oughhh something about this dynamic actually tickles me pink, getting wound up but arthur being the one who easily unwind you like that's the stuff man

salt and pepper by @hihomeghere cos i also eat up any fic that lets me live out the fantasy of grabbing gorgeous arthur morgan by the face and telling him that he's HAWT

same goes for sweet dreams by @cowboydisaster like ough toothrotting fluff actually, what fanfiction was created for, amazing, showstopping, unbeatable, etc etc

give me my sin again by @messrmoonyy we love a little devoted secret relationship.... and sin, we love sin 🙂‍↕️

conflicted spaces by @not-neverland06 WHEWWW a whole ass story to devour, i love love love having a plot to sink my teeth into and the hurt/comfort aspect of the whole thing just sweetens the deal <3

one warm day is all i really need by @threadbearsweater i'll be real with u i don't remember this one off the top of my head BUT i have high standards to have things shelved away in my likes, waiting to be properly rbed, so i trust in my heart its spectacular

ok that's all for now <3 i should really make an effort to do some occasional recs because this was hella fun! thank you for asking nonnie! hopefully you find something new!

mwah x

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@jollyhunter

Okay, I'm finally home and this was such a wonderful thing to read through! It made my day 😊

Girl, let me tell you I was also giggling the entire time I wrote this. This fic was so self indulgent because the reader IS me, one billion percent, the awkward anxious person who has no idea how to catch someone's attention 😆 But I love it resonated with you too (but I'm also sorry it took you back to your past trauma lol 😂)

I love your writing style and especially the way you add humor!! Like this had me already cracking up - Butcher and the boys x LotR, where’s my funfic, hm??

Oh goodness THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🥰 I literally laugh to myself the whole time I write and most of the time I'm scared no one else will get the jokes, but thank you that really means a lot 💗 But YES the subtle Eomer drop... if you haven't read As Tradition Dictates, you need to because it's so good and it's been living rent free in my head since I read it. And oh my word the cross over would be wild- Soldier Boy does act like an Orc sometimes, but we love him for it anyway 🤣

It’s a real struggle 😭

Amen it is 🫶🏻

Sneaky bastard - I feel like he’s only saying that because he’s afraid that he will fall for her. (Probably already has and is taking his chance now since she’d basically friend zoned him 😂)

He could be... 😏 You could be getting dangerously close to the truth there my friend 😉

EDIT: I FORGOT TO COMMENT ON THE FRIGGIN LOCUSTS SUPE - I’d pay to see that scene; Butcher and Soldier Boy running from a swarm of locusts because they can’t punch or shoot their way out as usual and making a deal to never talk about this embarrassing moment again 🤣

You know, I am so happy you pointed this out, because I really didn't think that in depth about what that scene would look like. And I hate locusts so I was like... what supe power would just be too much for me. BUT THAT IS SO FUNNY! I can see Butcher firing off like two shots into the swarm, while Ben kinda holds up his shield half-heartedly debating if it's worth it (it's not), and the reader and Hughie are already in the car with all the windows rolled up just watching it unfold. Even funnier would be her not letting Butcher or Ben into the car because she doesn't want any of the locusts to get in and she's shooing the two of them away. 😂

NOW WHERE‘S MY PART TWO?? I’M READY

Running joke I have is that I really can't write a one-shot to save my life... and this fic is no exception. I would love to make this a series (and I sort of accidentally plotted one out for this lol). The problem is I'm trying to finish up a soulmate AU series I started last year for Soldier Boy called If The Stars Wish It So and I have a prompt celebration running so I want to finish up those two things before I start a series based on this fic... BUT I do want to, because I love fake dating and I think that I could make this exceptionally awkward and funny lol.

But I am so happy that you liked this one sweetie and thank you so much for all the lovely feedback! 💜

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi! congratulations on 2k ivy! i've only recently stumbled into your acc but i'm loving all of your works so far!

you write so good i feel like im actually in it, iykwim!

anyways, if it's okay with you, can i get a 🧸 teddy dust for mattheo or theo with the prompt; "look, i know i probably should have backed off and i apologize." "no, honestly it was kind of hot." "what??" (from the 2nd angst prompt list)

i love your works sm you're amazing! cheers to 2k again!

��ㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ reckless

synopsis: ever since you met mattheo, you knew he had a temper. but when some creep at a party gets too close to you, he completely snaps. now you're in his dorm, everyone yelling, but all you can think about is how pretty he looks when he's angry content warnings: violence, fighting, blood, suggestive tension, possessive!mattheo, mutual pining author's note: hi love!! ୨ৎ omg first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words, you have no idea how much that means to me ♡ hope you love it, darling—mwah!! ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 705

The party had been going fine—better than fine, actually. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Slytherin common room was packed with students laughing, dancing, and generally causing trouble. But then, of course, someone had to ruin it.

You’d been trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of some Ravenclaw’s hand lingering too long on your wrist, his body crowding too close as he slurred something about how you were “too pretty to be this stuck-up.”

You were this close to hexing him when someone else stepped in.

More specifically—Mattheo. And more as in swung in.

The shift in the room was immediate. One second, you were glaring up at the guy, and the next, Mattheo was right there, shoving himself between you and the Ravenclaw.

His voice was low, lethal. "Touch her again, and I’ll break your fucking hand."

The guy scoffed, clearly thinking Mattheo was all talk—right up until Mattheo’s fist connected with his jaw.

The impact was loud. Gasps echoed around the room.

"For fuck’s sake, Riddle!" Draco groaned, already marching over.

Draco and Theodore had immediately shoved themselves between Mattheo and the guy before he could do worse. Lorenzo grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you back as Blaise and Pansy tried to calm the situation down. The guy scrambled away, cursing, but Mattheo still lunged after him, only stopped by Theodore gripping his shirt and yanking him back.

"Fucking hell, Riddle," Blaise hissed. "You wanna get expelled?"

"Expelled?" Pansy cut in, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she grabbed your hand. "More like murdered—if Snape finds out, he’s going to skin him alive."

"I’d like to see him try," Mattheo muttered, wiping his knuckles on his shirt.

"Are you dense?" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you ever think before you act?"

Mattheo scoffed. "Oh, please. You lot would’ve done the same."

Theodore rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Doesn’t mean we’re not going to call you an idiot for it."

Eventually, after much grumbling, the boys dragged Mattheo upstairs to their dorm, with you and Pansy following close behind.

Once inside, the scolding resumed.

"If you break every guy’s nose who flirts with her, you’re going to run out of people to fight," Lorenzo pointed out.

"And fists," Blaise added.

"And brain cells," Theodore muttered.

"Bold of you to assume he has any left," Draco deadpanned.

Mattheo huffed, plopping onto his bed. "Whatever. Worth it."

Pansy shook her head before turning to you. "You okay, love?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I would’ve handled it, but..."

"But he had to go full knight-in-bloody-armor," Draco finished, rolling his eyes.

Blaise smirked. "Our resident guard dog."

Mattheo flipped him off. "Shut up."

Eventually, after much scolding (mostly from Pansy and Lorenzo), everyone trickled out, leaving you alone with Mattheo.

You exhaled, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall.

"Look, I know I probably should have backed off, and I apologize."

You let out a breathy laugh. "No, honestly, it was kind of hot."

Mattheo blinked. "What??"

You smirked, watching realization dawn on his face as he tilted his head at you, eyes darkening with mischief. "Ohhh. So you like watching me throw punches, huh? That’s a bit concerning, love."

You shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

"No, no, this is good information. Noted." His grin was all teeth, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now.

The air between you shifted. You could still see the adrenaline buzzing under his skin, the way his jaw flexed slightly, his lips still slightly parted like he had more he wanted to say.

So you decided to shut him up another way.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. His hands immediately found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he responded instantly, tilting his head and deepening it like he’d been waiting for this.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was grinning like an idiot. "So, just to clarify—if I get into more fights, do I get more kisses?"

You rolled your eyes. "Try it and find out."

"Merlin, I love a challenge."

And just like that, Mattheo Riddle was absolutely, hopelessly gone for you.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[redheadspark]

hii!! may i request for the feb prompt session? specifically our boy eddie munson with numbers 2 & 5! like eddie pulling reader aside to confide abt their little crush to someone and reader just thinks oh ahah its nothing but as time goes on we can slide in prompt number 5 for ultimate pining from reader 🤓 perhaps even angsty,, mwhehe >:)

A/N - this is great for Eddie! Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!

Be Brave

Summary - Eddie asks you for advice.

Warnings - Fluff with a hint of Angst

“Hey!  I wanna talk about something with you,”

“If it involves Hellfire you’re on your own.  I’m not going to be getting you out of your shit hole situations anymore,” 

“No no!  I mean….that’s nice when you help with that, but no.  It’s something else,”

You poked your head out of your locker, seeing your best friend look at you with an image of nervousness on his face. His wild hair framing his face and his backpack half-hazardly over his shoulder.  You could see the look in his eyes that this was serious, and knowing Eddie Munson, he was rarely serious.

He was serious about a few things: Hellfire Club, his love for metal music, and the need to be his own different.  So what would it be?

“What’s going on, Eddie?” You asked as you grabbed a few books from your locker to put in your backpack.

“You won’t make fun of me?” He questioned, you grinning as you raised a brow at him.

“Since when do I ever, ever make fun of you?” You asked him in a teasing way.  

“I’m not going to answer that,” he replied, “Just…I wanna talk to you because you’re a girl and you probably are better equip at this than me,”

That made you pause again as you finally closed your locker and faced Eddie.  You both were close as friends, ever since you were recruited to join Hellfire club thanks to your older brother who knew Eddie.  They both were in the same grade and your brother knew you liked playing Dungeons and Dragons, he taught you the game. He figured you playing with Eddie would both get you something to do and to get you out of his hair.  Both worked, and you were a decent player at the table.  It made Eddie admire you all the more, not that he didn’t think girls could play Dungeons and Dragons, he just loved how you played.  The same vigor and bite, just like how he played. 

Which in return made him get a small crush on you.  Not that he knew that you were crushing on him back.

“I wanna tell this girl that I like her, but I don’t know how to do it,” he explained, your heart both beating a pinch faster and plummeting at the same time. You were never one to be yearning for drama that others went through, especially girls and their crushes. It seemed too time consuming and petty, which explained by you hardly had any girl friends. Just a few, but you liked it that way.  You had no time for drama and boy trouble, you had too much homework and after school activities to deal with than to figure out who liked who and who was dating

One of your friends was a cheerleader named Danielle, good friends with Christie Cunningham who was pretty much great with everyone at Hawkins High.  You and Danielle study together in the library on Tuesdays during Study Hall because you both were the top students in your science class, in all your classes really, and one afternoon she asked you about Eddie.

“What about him?” You whispered to her since the librarian was notorious for shushing those who were not whispering. Danielle grinned, chewing the back of her pencil as she was tapping her fingers on the top of her opened science book.

“He’s kind of cute, isn’t he?”  She asked you in a shrug.  You kept it cool, something you brother taught you since you were notorious for not having the best poker face. But deep down, it felt like she kicked you straight in the stomach and you were about to vomit all over the desk.  

“He’s alright,” You hummed, Danielle rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on, you don’t think he’s cute? With at will hair and how he loves his music?” She asked, keeping her voice low.  You wanted to roll your eyes, clearly knowing deep down that Danielle had no idea about the music he likes or the kind of hobbies he was into.  Maybe you were protective of Eddie since you two were close and confided in each other from time to time, and to hear that someone else liked him only as a surface crush, it was not sitting well with you.

“He’s my friend,” You could only reply, Danielle shrugging and going back to work on her notebook.  You passed for a few long seconds, thinking of the worst possibility that Danielle and Eddie would be a couple in the future.  It made you mad, sad, confused, and heartbroken at the same time. But you could only bury it down and not mention it.  That was social suicide, not even worth it.  

So it was buried, along with your own feelings for Eddie.

“The best thing to do is to tell her how you feel,” You explained as you and Eddie walked down the hall, side by side while Eddie watched you in earnest to hear your suggestion to him, “Girls like honesty, not flirting around the bush,”

“That sounds…weird,” Eddie explained with a confused look on his face.

“You know what I mean,” You reasoned as you grinned, “Look, Eddie, whoever this girl is, I bet if you tell them and you’re honest about it, it’ll work out.  You’re a great guy,”

“I think you’re forgetting that I have the nickname Eddie “the Freak” Munson around here,” He reminded you as you huffed.

“That stems from the popular kids who don’t know how to wipe their own asses,” You joked, Eddie was chuckling as you made it to your English class.  You turned to face him, seeing him watch you with warmth in his brown eyes and a small smirk on his lips.  Reach over to squeeze his arm gently within your fingers, you tilted your head up at him since he had a few inches on you.

“Be brave, Eddie.  Girls dig it,” You explained, then slipped into your class right when the bell rang. Eddie stood there for a few long seconds, drinking all you said before he jogged down the hall to get to his math class.  He could be brave, it was easier said than done but he could.  You made it sound so easy, like a normal chore to do throughout the day.  But maybe he could do it just to make you smile.

It gave him a pep in his step.

“I rolled a 20!”

“Roll for damage?”

“13?”

“Hell yeah!  How do you wanna do this?”

You leaned over the table, your D20 dice perched in front of your spot along with your papers and notepad etched out in notes as you were describing how you were killing the beast in the middle of combat.  The others around the table were cheering, egging you on as you were drinking in the victory that was in your hands.  

Eddie, in his Dungeon Master chair, was watching in amazement a massive grin on his face as you were using your hands, and your eyes lit up in joy while you were giving every single detail with precision.  He’s seen the others in Hellfire give great details when they would end or an enemy, but you were on a different level.  You loved storytelling, and the way you spoke, and played the game with creativity and enthusiasm. He wished the others would take a page out of your book.

In that moment as the others cheered, Garret clasping you on the shoulder and Dustin and Mike cheering loudly, Eddie watched with a cocked head and love in his eyes.  You were laughing, blush on your cheeks and your light brown hair dancing in the low lighting made his heart flutter.

You didn’t know that Danielle was shot down by Eddie a few days before, Danielle asked him out to study together after school and Eddie politely declined.  He knew Danielle was not the one for him, and she never held a flame for him to be entranced to.  Not like you, Eddie was a moth to your flame and he liked it that way.  He knew what he liked, and he remembered what you told him in that hallway.

You told him to be brave.  And maybe after the game, he would finally ask you on a date.

The End.

[withacapitalp]

Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

@stevesbipanic B HAPPY VALENTINES!!! Tis I! Your secret admirer!!! I loved this prompt and I had so much fun with it thank you so much and I hope you love it!!! Special thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @hairstevington for listening to be a little feral and insane about the first thing I'm writing in a very long time

Read on AO3 instead

If there was one place Eddie never expected to end up at on Valentine’s Day, it was the mall. 

When Steve had asked to ‘take point’ this year, Eddie had imagined a day at the lake, maybe a secret picnic, perhaps even a scenic road trip. Something that was their style. A tucked away moment, quiet and held close, so it belonged to just the two of them. 

There was no way the mall - the epicenter of American greed and capitalistic cannibalism - would have that. 

“I can’t believe I found this parking spot!” Steve crowed, tossing Eddie a winning smile as he threw the car into park and grabbed his phone from where it was charging, “Wasn’t that lucky?”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie agreed, trying to hide his disdain, but definitely failing given the way Steve’s smile dipped. The mall loomed over them, blocking out the sun with its oppressively boxy architecture, and Eddie couldn’t help his own glow starting to dim. 

The day had started so promisingly. Steve had woken up early and slipped out of bed without Eddie realizing, coming home with ludicrously over decorated heart shaped donuts and coffee from their favorite bakery. They had traded lazy sugar-filled kisses, cuddling and watching Labyrinth. 

Hell, Steve had even managed to almost hide how much he disliked the movie, commenting on David Bowie’s ass and conveniently ignoring the plot and puppets. He hadn’t even texted Robin all morning!

And now…well now they were at the mall. 

“Are we going to a movie or something? We could’ve just gone to The Hawk. You know IMAX movies give me headaches.” Eddie said as they exited the beemer. Steve came around the front, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it twice - their signal for needing the other person to listen. 

“Trust me?” Steve offered, chewing on the inside of his lip and giving Eddie the big puppy dog eyes he could never resist. Eddie groaned, grumbling softly to himself as he lifted their joined hands up to his lips. 

“Always,” he whispered back, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, the mall actually wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. His brain had conjured up tortuous images of packs of useless husbands trolling around for a cheap gift to pawn off on their wives, or hordes of angsty teens lamenting not having someone to share the holiday with. 

But at almost four in the afternoon it was sleepy, practically dead. And besides, it was hard to look around when Steve was dragging him forward with a single-minded determination. All Eddie could do was try and keep up, shooting glances at his boyfriend to try and catch his eye, wondering why Steve was suddenly loath to meet his gaze. 

Then they were stopping short, Eddie stumbling and nearly tripping as Steve let go of his hand out of nowhere. He righted himself, about to tell Steve off for acting so weird, when he looked up and was struck speechless. 

“You mentioned that you always wanted to go here, but that Wayne never had the money for it,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning out of Eddie’s space as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Eddie had told him that, but just once. Only once. He could remember the exact moment. The two of them in the kitchen of their apartment right after the move, unpacking mugs as Eddie told the story of each one and placed it with care on the shelf. It was the last mug, the final story of that night. 

“My dad promised me he would take me to Build-a-Bear for my fifth birthday. And my sixth. And my seventh. By my eighth, I stopped answering when he asked me what I wanted, ‘cause I knew it didn’t matter. By ten I was already living with Wayne, and I didn’t even want to ask him, I knew we couldn’t afford it. Wayne found out anyway, because he’s Wayne, and so he got me this mug for my eleventh birthday, and told me it was an IOU. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to build-a-bear so badly, I just got it in my head that having my own bear would be special. Something that was mine, and always would be, you know?” 

And now here Eddie was, standing in front of an ostentatiously yellow store with his heart settled neatly in his throat. 

“I know it’s kind of silly now, because we’re almost thirty. You might not even care anymore, but I thought maybe it would be a nice Valentine’s Day gift? We could build you a bear, and then you would have him forever and always,” Steve explained, his thoughtfulness continuing to choke Eddie to death. 

Eddie didn’t believe in God, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t something looking out for him. Something had to have given him Steve. There was no way this wonderful, beautiful man just landed in his lap. 

“I’m sorry I-” Steve began, obviously misinterpreting Eddie’s silence. 

“I love it,” Eddie said, cutting off the apology before it could truly begin. 

He couldn’t let Steve doubt this, not even for a single second. Eddie cleared his throat roughly, blindly reaching out and latching onto Steve’s wrist, pulling his boyfriend close and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible as he continued to ramble.

“I do, I love it and I- thank you, Stevie. You’re so- you’re just- thank you, thank you, thank you,” 

“Easy, Eds,” Steve murmured, the tips of his ears turning pink as he pressed their cheeks together and gave Eddie a parting squeeze. Eddie let him pull away, but didn’t let him go, interlocking their fingers as he began to bounce in place. 

“We’re going to Build-a-Bear!” Eddie giggled, his joy beginning to spill all over the place.

Steve nodded, smiling just as brightly as Eddie. But, when Eddie went to pull him forward, Steve held fast, keeping them both in place. 

“There’s just one rule. I don’t want you to look at prices at all. You get whatever you want, however you want it. Got it?” Steve said with a mock stern look. Eddie opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated.

It wasn’t like they were destitute. Between Steve’s job as a sub and Eddie’s work at the garage, they were making good money. But with rent, Steve's tuition, and the regular expenses, they didn’t exactly have a lot of cash to blow on fulfilling a childhood dream. 

“I’ve been saving for this, baby. Been doing extra tutoring on the nights you were with the guys playing dungeons and dorks,” Steve admitted, a pretty blush sitting high on his cheeks. Eddie’s heart clenched up again, and he couldn’t resist dragging Steve into a chaste but forceful kiss. 

“You’re the most amazing partner, you know that, right?” Eddie whispered against his lips. Steve ducked his head, pulling away and squeezing Eddie’s fingers silently as they walked into the store.  

The store was almost empty, even quieter than the mall itself. A couple of parents were watching their daughters giggle over clothes for their new stuffed animals, and a young couple was chatting by the little clawfoot bathtubs in the back, but other than that it was just the two of them. There was some bubblegum pop playing in the background, the kind of thing Steve liked to listen to when he made dinner at night. The sound of it settled Eddie instead of setting his teeth on edge, and he couldn’t help leaning against Steve as they approached the bins of unstuffed bears. 

“Go on, pick your new friend,” Steve said, nudging Eddie forward and taking a step back to watch. 

It was easy to eliminate some choices off the bat. Eddie took away anything that was themed for Valentines, or promotional, and he pretty quickly decided against anything that wasn’t a traditional bear. Normally he would’ve loved the contrarian energy of building a dragon or a unicorn, but he wasn’t just making this for right now. This was also for the little Eddie that had dreamt of having that perfect plush bear to snuggle with at night. 

But the problem was, he had never really imagined what the bear looked like. 

“Help me?” Eddie whined, turning back to Steve who shook his head fondly but walked forward anyway. Steve perused the options for a second before reaching into a bin and pulling out a charcoal black bear with brown eyes.

“What about this one? If you give him a battle vest and a band tee he would be a mini-you,” Steve offered, holding the bear out. Eddie took it, letting his fingers run over the fur and imagining the bear properly stuffed and dressed. 

It was perfect. 

They walked past the bear bins, up to a stand with plastic cases and the words “HEAR ME” above it in bright red letters. 

“Okay, one more rule for today. Cover your ears and turn around,” Steve ordered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a no-nonsense look. Eddie raised a brow, briefly considering putting up a fight, just for the heck of it. 

But there was something in Steve’s face, a glint in his eyes that just bordered on the edge of panic and a crook in his smile that made it sit not quite straight on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was probably something big. 

So, instead of being a gremlin, Eddie remained obedient, turning on his heel and cupping his ears, humming one of the band’s latest creations for good measure. He managed to get all the way through the first two choruses and up to the bridge before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

“Time for the best part,” Steve said in a soft sing-song tone, pushing Eddie towards the machine filled with stuffing where an employee was patiently waiting for them. 

“Hi there, guys!” She said with a bright grin, “My name is Rosie, and I’m here to help you bring your friend to life.”

Steve, being the amazing boyfriend he was, somehow sensed Eddie’s hesitancy, speaking for both of them as they got closer. “I’m Steve, and that’s Eddie. It’s his first time here.” 

“That’s so great! Okay so I am going to stuff your new friend exactly how you’d like him, then you’re going to pick a heart out of this box and follow all my instructions,” she explained in a patient but authoritative tone that reminded Eddie so much of Nancy he almost laughed out loud. He willingly handed over the bear, watching as she lined him up with the machine. 

“Firm or soft?” 

“Soft,” Eddie answered automatically, going with his gut. 

Rosie nodded and went through the process of stuffing the bear, methodically filling up each paw and giving them a good squeeze before handing the bear to Eddie for a quick check. 

“Before we do the heart ceremony, do you want to add a smell to your bear? We have some of our scents here, and I can go to the back and get you any one off this list if you want.” She offered as Eddie held his bear close. 

“Remember our rule,” Steve whispered loudly in his ear, and Eddie rolled his eyes, his heart almost filled to the bursting. He pointed out a lemon scent on the list and they watched Rosie leave to grab it. 

“Why lemon?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“Reminds me of how the house smells on Sundays,” Eddie replied. “All your favorite cleaning products smell like lemons, and all you drink from May to September is lemonade.” 

“It’s a refreshing smell,” Steve grumbled, not a trace of heat in his tone. Eddie chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Whatever you say, Lemon Boy,” he managed to get out just as Rosie returned, a yellow bear paw held in her hand. 

“Now while I put this in and add some final touches, you choose your heart and then we will do the heart ceremony.” She instructed. 

Eddie peered into the box, his eyes immediately locking onto a plaid heart. He plucked it out, showing it to Steve who couldn’t resist laughing. It was the exact same pattern as the god-awful wallpaper he had in his room when they first started dating, and, without words, they both knew what they were thinking about. 

“Okay, are you ready?” 

Eddie nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Rosie stood in front of them and held out her hands. 

“So you’re going to hold the heart just like this,” she demonstrated, cupping her hands and beginning to rub her palms together, “and you’re going to make the heart all nice and warm and toasty for your new buddy over there!” 

Eddie followed her directions to the letter as she had him flip the heart and tap three times (“To wake up his heart and get it beating!”) and lifted the heart up to the sky and waved it back and forth to give his bear very high hopes. He even turned in a circle, delighting in listening to Steve laugh at his antics. 

This was the exact kind of thing Eddie loved to do most - put on a show and lose himself in being a little silly. 

“Now, rub the heart down your back, that way your buddy always has your back. Rub it down your side, so they stay by your side forever and always. Rub it across your cheeks, so your buddy is always smiling each and every day, and hold the heart to your chest to make a nice big wish!” 

Eddie paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a second to think. He had lots of wishes. He wished his van would hold out for just one more paycheck, that the kids would enjoy the campaign he put together for them. He wanted Wayne to stay healthy, for Steve to pass his classes, for someone, anyone, to find the band and give them their big shot. 

But there was one wish that was more important than the rest. 

“The last thing is giving it a nice big kiss, so your buddy is always full of love.” Rosie said with a flourish. 

Eddie was about to lift the heart to his lips when he paused, turning to Steve and holding it out. Steve’s lip curled in a small, indulgent, smile, and he leaned forward, pressing a long kiss right in the middle of the fabric heart. The edge of his lip touched Eddie’s thumb, sending a shiver down his spine. 

From there the process moved quickly. Rosie sewed up his bear with deadly efficiency, and Eddie and Steve tag teamed the wall of outfits to find the perfect battle vest for Eddie’s bear. Before he knew it, Eddie was sat at a tiny little computer with his bear in his lap and Steve’s chin hooked over his shoulder, both of them staring down at the blank bear birth certificate.

“I don’t know what to name him,” Eddie moaned, leaning back against Steve, who appeared to be deep in thought. 

“Beddie.”

“Beddie?” Eddie repeated incredulously, turning to look at Steve properly. 

“Bear Eddie,” Steve shrugged, as if that made any sense at all. “He does look just like you.”

Eddie snorted, leaning forward and typing out the name, then hesitating and typing some more. 

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to hide the sudden nerves that were lighting up his veins. The last name wasn’t a huge risk to take, but it meant something, something far more than either of them were willing to admit just yet. 

“Perfect,” Steve said with a kiss pressed to Eddie’s cheek. 

And that was how Beddie Bearington ended up nestled between Eddie and Steve that night as they lounged on the couch. Steve had fallen asleep two episodes deep into their Survivor binge, and Eddie was content to stay exactly where he was for at least a few more hours. He dipped his head down, pressing his face to the center of the bear’s chest and smelling the candied lemon scent that permeated through the fur. As he continued to cuddle his bear, Eddie felt something hard and square in the left paw. He pulled back, perplexed by the sudden change, carefully feeling around the object and wondering what it might be. 

With a jolt, Eddie finally put together Steve’s behavior from before. He had somehow hidden a  sound box inside Eddie’s bear, that was the secret Steve hadn’t let him hear before. Eddie slapped his forehead with a palm, unable to believe he could’ve missed something so obvious. The boys would’ve had words to say about their DM being so unobservant. 

Eddie took a cursory look down to make sure Steve was still asleep, and then pressed it, putting the bear's paw up to his ear. He had expected a song, or even some funny sound. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the soft tone of Steve’s voice, fulfilling the secret wish he had put into his bear’s heart. 

“Hi Eddie, it’s me, your boyfriend, Steve. I want you to know that you are the funniest, sweetest, most creative person I know, and I’m so happy that I get to love you…because I do. I love you, Eddie.” 

“It’s true,” a voice whispered from below. Eddie moved the bear and there was Steve, staring up at him. “Sorry I couldn’t say it before.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, almost in awe that he could finally say it and hear it back. 

He could hear it whenever he wanted. Eddie pressed the button on the box again just because he could. Steve’s words filled the air as Eddie nestled Beddie into the couch and dipped his head down, hair falling in a curtain around them as they shared another kiss. 

[russo-woso]

Most of all, I love… || Alessia Russo x pregnant!reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Warning Pregnancy

Summary the memories made from the chaos of your baby shower

-> Part of A new adventure universe

It was going to be an emotional day, you knew that - it’s the main reason why you wore your waterproof mascara.

Today, Lotte and Emily were throwing you and Alessia a baby shower.

It was going to be small and intimate with close family and friends only.

A few Arsenal and England girls were going to be there along with both sets of parents and a few other relatives.

You’d both chosen Lotte and Emily to organise it. Lotte because you’d known her since you were 13/14 and Emily because you’d spent most of your days at college with her.

You were so happy when they agreed to take on the role of organising it but you were shocked when you realised how serious they were taking it.

They were planning it in such detail that they couldn’t been professional party planners.

You and Alessia let them be though, having enough trust in them to do it just how you’d want it.

You were expecting it to be a long day but what you weren’t expecting was to be woken up by a loud knock on the door.

“What the…” alessia had mumbled as she lifted herself out of bed, looking outside the window to be met with Emily and Lotte, bags filled to the brim with decorations in their hands. With a frustrated sigh, Alessia opened the window, getting ready to speak her mind but before she could shout at the pair, you cut her off.

“-Lessi, be nice to them, they’re doing us a favour remember.” You told her, Alessia rolling her eyes but agreeing nonetheless.

“Fine. I’ll go let them in. I’m coming back to bed though. I want cuddles with my two girls.”

Although Alessia was still angry at the pair of defenders, she pushed her anger to the side when she walked down the stairs.

Emily and Lotte insisted that the decorations were a surprise.

So, the whole of the morning, you and Alessia were imprisoned upstairs, being told that the whole baby shower would be ruined if either one of you took a look at the decor.

But it was worth it when you took the final step to downstairs.

There was an arch of balloons by the back door, loose balloons littering the floor, a banner with wooden letters spelling baby Russo on the wall.

Your heart swelled as you looked around.

“It’s perfect.” You whispered to no one in particular, your eyes welling with tears.

There’s one strike for hormones today already.

“Do you like it?” Lotte asked, your reaction clearly being unreadable.

“I love it. Thank you so much, you two.” You said, wiping your tears before hugging the two defenders.

Alessia followed after, hugging and thanking them before returning back to your side.

Her hand made its way around your waist, her fingertips brushing your bump gently.

“She’s kicking away. She’s clearly happy with it too.” You said with a big smile, moving Alessia’s hand to where your daughter was kicking.

“Strong kicking. You’re gonna be a striker like your mummy.” Alessia whispered, but as soon as the word striker was mentioned the kicking stopped.

“No, she’s gonna be a defender like her auntie Lotte and auntie Emily.” Lotte cooed, also resting her hand on your bump.

“She’s gonna love me more so she’ll be a striker.” Alessia fired back

“Who said she’ll love you more? She’s going to love her auntie Lotte more.”

“Lotte! She’s my daughter, she’s clearly going to love me more.” Alessia told Lotte, you being stuck in the middle of the two of them.

“No that’s—” Lotte went to respond but was cut off to a knock on the door.

Emily left to go and open the door and Lotte wondered off to the kitchen for something, leave just you and Alessia.

“Cheer up. Get that frown off your face. Of course bubba’s going to love you more.” You said, pressing a kiss to Alessia’s cheek which soon wiped the frown off her face.

Beth was the first one to come into the lounge, enveloping you and Alessia in a hug before pushing a massive gift bag your way.

Then came Steph, doing the exact same thing but instead of a gift bag, it was a hamper.

Leah walked in, greeting bubba before you which you took massive offence to but your thoughts quickly changed when Leah handed you a gigantic tub of peanut butter - which just so happened to be your latest craving.

“Can’t have mama go without anything.” Leah explained, hugging you again before bending down to be level with your bump. “Don’t worry, bubba, I’ve got something for you too.”

“Thank you, le.” You said, bringing her in for a third hug before letting her hug Alessia.

A few more Arsenal girls came before the Manchester girls arrived.

Tooney’s voice filled the room followed by Millie T’s boisterous laugh.

“Something funny?” You joked, clearly one of the two making a joke before entering the house.

“There she is, my bestie.” Ella shouted.

Alessia stood behind you, her arms out waiting for Ella to hug her but before Ella could even get to Alessia, she was crouched in front of you, her hand on your bump.

Millie crouched down next to her, greeting you both quickly before wondering off into the living room.

“My daughter’s taken my best friends too?” Alessia asked, her jaw wide open not believing what was happening.

“Everyone just loves her, it’s cute.” You told her, rubbing her back gently.

“I know.” Alessia mumbled, a pout on her lips.

“Wipe that pout off.” You joked, your thumb wiping her upper lip, attempting to make her smile.

“A kiss would wipe it off.” Alessia suggested with a smirk.

“One kiss. That’s it, we’ve got to go and get the party started.” You told her, alessia nodding excitedly like she’d never kissed you before.

You placed your lips on hers and as you went to pull away, Alessia pulled you back in, her hands having a firm grip on your hips.

You pushed down a moan that threatened to escape past your lips once Alessia’s tongue explored your mouth.

“Less… our friends.” You mumbled, somehow managing to pull away.

“They’ll be fine for a minute.” Alessia shrugged, reconnecting your lips in yet another hungry kiss. “You just look so perfect with your bump.”

You both got carried away, completely forgetting your surrounding when you heard someone clear their throat.

“Interrupting something are we?” Luca teased, winking as you and Alessia pulled away, your faces burning bright red.

“Just…” Alessia began, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.

“Just making out whilst all your friends and family are waiting?” Luca suggested, clearly trying to tease the two of you.

“Yes.” Alessia reluctantly agreed, nodding her head.

“You can do that later. Now come on, we’re waiting to start the games.”

“Games?” You questioned, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Did Lotte and Em not tell you? They’ve planned out some games.” Luca explained, you and Alessia shaking your heads at the new found news. “Classic baby shower games, quite boring if you ask me. I’m only here for the food.”

“Of course you are.” Alessia tutted, shaking her head.

“I’m gonna go, but I trust you two not to continue what you were doing.”

“No promises.”

Luca soon left which left you and Alessia by yourselves.

“You, do not let your competitive side come out, okay? It’s just some fun.” You warned her, knowing how competitive and cocky she got.

“Fine.”

The games went smoothly, Alessia actually listening and not taking them competitively.

Kyra ended up winning the first game, followed by Katie winning the second.

It was then time to open gifts.

The table which was designated for presents was filled to the brim, gift upon gift stacked on top of each other.

You couldn’t help but well up at the care and love that surrounded you.

Another strike for hormones.

One by one, you and Alessia were handed present after present.

Steph had bought the softest blanket ever, Leah bought a stuffed gunnersaurus and made you promise to make it bubba’s favourite teddy.

After half an hour, there were two presents left.

You opened one and inside was a gorgeous hamper full of everything you could possibly need - nappies, wipes, a small stuffed giraffe, bibs, a small hat, a newborn outfit with animals on, just everything.

“I didn’t know whether you’d like the outfit or not so I kept the receipt just in case.” Lia spoke up, revealing who the hamper was from.

“Lia… it’s gorgeous - the whole thing. Thank you so much.” You told her, hugging her tightly.

“This is amazing, Lia, thank you.” Alessia said, also hugging her.

You both sat back down, Alessia’s hand automatically resting on your bump.

She grabbed the final present which had been wrapped neatly with a bow on top.

“This is joint present from foxy and me.” Lotte told you and Alessia, a smile on her face.

Alessia matched her smile out of excitement, quickly unwrapping it.

As soon as she laid eyes on the gift itself, her smile dropped.

“What the fuck is this?” Alessia exclaimed, lifting the baby grow so you could see it.

It was a cream coloured baby grow with the words Most of all… I love my aunties.

“You are not starting this again, you two.” You told Lotte and Alessia, pointing at the two of them.

“It’s a joke. That’s not the actual present. Foxy!”

On queue, Emily walked into the room with a wrapped box.

You and Alessia looked at each other, both of you confused as to what it could be.

You opened it at the same time, revealing the car seat the two of you desperately wanted.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, not knowing what to do. “That explains why you asked if we’d spotted a car seat yet.”

“Please say it’s the right one. We walked in and there were so many but I’m sure you said this one.” Emily explained as you nodded.

“It’s the one. Thank you em, thank you Lotte.” Alessia said, hugging them.

You clung onto the both of them as you thanked them, feeling immensely grateful.

“You two are the best aunties.” You told them

“We know.” Emily smirked, high fiving Lotte.

The rest of the afternoon sped by and before you knew it, everyone had left.

You and Alessia stood in the door of your living room, eyeing the massive pile of gifts.

“Do we even have space to put everything?” You asked

“I don’t think so.”

[navybrat817]

hi navy!!! I might be too late, but I was hoping to send in a request for ficlet Friday with Bucky Barnes and the prompt "shoulders hunched over a chopping board, carefully dissecting fruit to deliver it to you in a bowl" and maybe avenger!bucky x avenger!reader if possible??

Thank you so much!!! <333

Hi, nonnie! I hope you like where I took this.

Better Tomorrow

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You get a small injury on a mission and it's part of the job, but Bucky still hates it.

Word Count: Over 950

Warnings: Established relationship, small injury, touch of angst, comfort, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You were careful to keep your breathing even when you got up from the couch. If Bucky heard you hiss or groan in pain, he’d rush to your side and demand to know why you got up. He’d also put you right back where you were sitting and remind you not to move. It was sweet when you thought about it and you adored that he wanted to coddle you for a bit, but there was no need.

A bullet grazed your arm on a mission earlier, a superficial wound. It wasn’t the first time that a mission ended with an injury nor was it a big deal. Deep down you felt that it didn’t make a difference to Bucky how artificial the wound was because you still got hurt. For a second you thought he’d kill the man who shot you, but he held back. And by holding back that bad guy would be spending some time in the hospital before he went to jail.

Tiptoeing toward the kitchen in the hopes that your boyfriend’s heightened hearing wouldn’t detect you, you froze when you spotted him behind the island. His hair down, wearing a white tank top, his shoulders hunched over as he carefully cut up pieces of fruit. The sight put a smile on your face and made your heart turn over.

Bucky was an Avenger. Both of you were. But this? Seeing your man in a domestic environment? It reminded you just how human you both were, that you could be vulnerable beneath the strength.

“You’re not resting,” he said, his eyes flickering to yours. He either heard you or he was that attuned to you. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been resting and I’m fine,” you smiled. He had already given you something for the pain, your favorite blanket and a book, and you could only sit for so long. “I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to continue the task with a look of indifference, but you knew better. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and that wasn’t fair.

“You’re not, Bucky,” you gently spoke, taking a step forward.

“No, I’m not. Because you got hurt and I couldn’t stop it,” he confessed, letting out a breath and confirming what you thought. It was nothing more than a whisper, but it felt like he screamed it from the depths of his soul.

Your heart broke for him. He took the blame into himself when it wasn’t his fault, punished himself for crimes he didn’t commit. You wouldn’t let him do that tonight. Not when he was a hero and your loving partner.

“We’re Avengers, Bucky. We help people. We may get hurt along the way and it’s a risk we take, but it isn’t your fault if one of us does,” you told him, seeing a swirl of emotions in his blue eyes. “The guy who chose to shoot at me is the one to blame, not you.”

“So why do I feel so terrible?” he whispered.

“Because you love me and you don’t want me in pain. Maybe you even thought for a moment that you’d lose me,” you answered, your heart contracting when he flinched. You understood that fear all too well when it came to him. “But I’m here and I’m okay.”

Bucky set the knife down and flexed his fingers, his eyes shutting for only a moment before he rounded the island to get to you. You moved forward on instinct and met him halfway so he could pull you into his arms. You fisted a hand in his tank top and wanted to burrow your face in his broad chest, your heart beating faster as you breathed each other in. He was safe, and so were you.

“I can’t lose you, baby. I can’t,” he said, his voice tight, careful not to squeeze your arm when he tightened his hold. He would never ask you to stop being an Avenger since he was out there doing the same thing, but injuries reminded him of the tough parts about being a hero.

“You won’t,” you said. You were both strong, capable. If you left the world tomorrow, you’d still be with him because your heart was his. You wouldn’t lose him either.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, and finally your lips. It’s so soft yet so passionate that you couldn’t stop the tears from burning behind your eyelids.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, blinking the mist away. “Now will you come and rest with me? Maybe I’ll let you feed me that bowl of fruit.”

“You’d let me do that?” he smiled a little.

“I would,” you smiled back, gasping when he lifted you off your feet and was once again careful not to do anything to your arm. “Show off,” you teased, hanging on with your good arm.

“Just a little,” he said. Picking you up was no sweat to a super soldier. “Thank you,” he added in a whisper. Taking care of you was going to comfort him as much as it comforted you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered back.

You had a feeling that Bucky wouldn’t sleep well tonight. He’d be too busy watching over you and making sure you were okay. If he did sleep there was a chance he’d have nightmares over the gunshot or a past injury. But in the morning he’d feel better knowing that you were really home with him, that you were okay, and that he didn’t lose you.

And if he really wanted to coddle and dote on you a bit longer, you wouldn’t stop him.

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[astarioffsimpmain]

ohh, maybe a late night love confession from Astarion? 🤭

Ooooh perfect!! Thank you for this ask, lovely <3 I love the quiet moments with Star; they let him breathe and drop the act more than when the companions are around, methinks.

~

Feel free to send me a prompt of your own!

He had been clingy since you reached the city; the crowds of people, the familiar streets, and old haunts inching him ever closer to his fate. It was like a march of doom. Uncertainty lurked around every corner, and sleep came sparingly. It was as if the city had eyes and all of them were trained directly on him. 'He could be anywhere,' Astarion thought as he curled tighter into your side on the creaky bed, 'waiting for the opportune moment to spirit me away and back into his clutches.' Too many nights had passed like this already, and he had begun to grow weary. You were worried about him, he could tell. It showed on your pretty face when you looked at him, those perceptive eyes seeing directly through his tomfoolery.

It was terrifying, at times, how well you seemed to know him. He was very nearly jealous, since you seemed to know him better than he did. But this knowing had begun to feel like something akin to safety, and he feared parting from it - from you - more than anything. His gaze flicked to you, sleeping peacefully beside him. Your arms wrapped him in a protective embrace, even in sleep, and he allowed himself a small smile.

"You really have been quite unexpected, you know," he whispered softly. "- in more ways than one. I assumed you would be a pretty little pawn in my game to maintain safety, but... gods, you truly have become so much more, haven't you? You minx, you." he chuckled quietly to himself as he brushed a stray hair from your face. "I will survive, and so will you. You must. Please keep me around once we do..." he trailed off, wrapping his arms around your back. "Promise me.."

When you awoke the next morning to find your lover's head resting on your chest as he tranced, you smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. You had had the loveliest dream.

~

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @knightofmight01 @micropoe10 @just-a-refrigerator @fanon-and-canon

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

The Opening Act

Pop-Up Prompt: Valentine's Day/Love | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Over the Clothes Sexual Acts | Tags: Valentine's Day, Roommates, First Kiss, Confessions, Getting Together, Resolved Mutual Pining, Steve Harrington Will Jump in With Both Feet

The grocery store selection is lacking, at best. Steve waited too long. Dragging his feet on what he should, or shouldn't, do. If anything at all. It's Eddie. Eddie, his roommate.

Eddie, who probably doesn't feel the same way Steve's been feeling. But Steve has to find out. The not knowing, the possibility, is eating him alive. Nobody's ever accused Steve of not jumping in with both feet when he feels things. He wears his heart on his sleeve, according to Robin, anyway. 

He doesn't mind. He'll wear it there, and someday someone will be happy to see it. At least he hopes so. Sometimes he feels like Eddie might be the one who finally would.

"She must be pretty special if you're taking this long to choose."

Steve turns towards the old woman standing behind him.

"Girlfriend? Or someone you hope will be?"

Steve grins, just a little quirk of his lip, "That last one."

He's not gonna make corrections, Mother Goose here can think what she wants. He likes girls. But he loves Eddie. A lot.

So much so he's not sure where to put it all. 

"If you pick something out with love, she'll know," she says, smiling.

Steve nods. 

"Thanks," he says, and she rolls away, leaving him standing there, still unsure of what would best express his love. 

"Hey! I got pizza," Eddie says from the kitchen, shirtless, but when he looks up at Steve, his expression closes off, just a little. "Oh. Right. It's Valentine's Day. I'll save you some."

Steve's confused, then realizes he's standing there with flowers. Eddie doesn't want flowers. Eddie doesn't even have an inkling that they could be for him. This was a dumb idea. Steve tosses them on the counter.

"They're for Robin. Pizza's great," Steve says, and Eddie grins, flipping the lid of the pizza box open. 

"Look at this thing. It's a heart. Like, surprise! Everybody gets bludgeoned with Valentine's Day, like it or not."

The pizza is heart-shaped. Even the pepperoni slices are cut into hearts, and he wonders who on earth the pizza place has hired with that kind of get up and go. Not him and Robin, that's for damn sure. 

Sure, they'd solve a Russian mystery on company time, but go out of their way to make things special for the customers? No fucking way.

Maybe kids are more motivated these days. 

Eddie pulls two pepperoni hearts off of it, shoving one in his own mouth, and one in Steve's. Pepperoni stolen off slices is the best tasting pepperoni, or so Eddie has loudly declared, over and over.

Steve chews his contraband pepperoni, and puts the brown paper grocery bag on the counter. Eddie immediately starts digging through it, "Oooh! Honeycombs and Miller, you do love me, Harrington."

Shit. 

He does love him. Like, obviously. 

"And a heart-shaped box of candy? You shouldn't have, Harrington," he says sarcastically, tossing it next to the abandoned flowers.

He'd like to be locked into Eddie's heart-shaped box for weeks. 

Steve blushes at the thought. He doesn't even know what that'd entail with Eddie.

But he wants it. Wants anything Eddie would be down for, honestly.

Just wants Eddie.

Steve's having a minor crisis. He can't look away from Eddie's remaining nipple like a weirdo, like he hasn't seen him shirtless nine-thousand times. And now his dick's suddenly being insistent. Eddie's paying no attention, rooting around through the groceries like a raccoon, and Steve realizes nearly every item he pulls from the bag was specifically bought for Eddie.

And it was bought with love. Mother Goose was right. Hopefully Eddie is feeling it, even if he doesn't know what he's feeling. 

That's okay. Steve can love him, can buy what he likes, just to see him happy. It should be enough. 

It's not enough.

Steve grabs Eddie by the back of the neck, and Eddie squawks. Steve presses his mouth to Eddie's, and when he slides his tongue inside, he tastes pepperoni. It's not the best first kiss. 

But the fact that Eddie's gripping his sides, pulling him closer, makes up ground.

When they break apart, Eddie's breathing heavy, eyes a little wild, but he's still looking right at Steve, like he's unwilling to let Steve back away from this.

"The flowers. They were for you. I lied."

"Sucks for Robin, then," Eddie says, and Steve laughs.

"You on board with this?" 

"Are you fucking kidding me? I've been dropping hints for two years, Harrington. It's about fucking time."

Steve laughs, leaning forward, resting his forehead against Eddie's.

"Your breath stinks," Eddie says.

"Whose fault is that? I was minty fresh when I walked in here, Pepperoni Poacher."

Eddie laughs, and Steve pulls him closer, until they're kissing again. Eddie's breath is no better, but he doesn't give a shit. He's here, they're here, and he's gonna make the goddamn best of it. 

He slides his hand down Eddie's chest, quickly moving south, and Eddie just kicks his legs further apart, an invitation if Steve's ever seen one.

Eddie's in sweatpants, Steve's sweatpants, and they aren't hiding shit.

Steve presses the heel of his hand to Eddie's dick through the fabric.

"You could buy me dinner first," Eddie teases, but contradicts his own words, by grinding up into Steve's large palm.

"I think you bought me dinner," Steve says, nodding towards the pizza, still working his hand, getting a good feel. Letting the anticipation, the desire, build. 

Determined to make Eddie come undone, right here.

Eddie's head is tilted back, panting, exposing his throat, and his hands have a death grip on the edge of the kitchen counter. It makes Steve feel wanted. 

Maybe even loved.

And this hasn't even started yet. Not really. This is just the opening act.

"I, I," Eddie starts, choking on the words, "I ordered the pizza like that! Paid an extra fiver!" Eddie blurts, and Steve laughs, leaning into him, rewarding him with a firm stroke. 

"Of course you did."

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ❤️