#we stan a second fiddle hot boy

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how I think the boys from love and deepspace would give a first kiss :3

warnings: suggestive content (obviously?), writing might be out of character, spoilers in general, i get carried away explaining everything because i'm afraid of being accused of mischaracterisation

[story spoiler] first kiss = first kiss where mc is a hunter/the timeline in game

authors notes: i have favourites and it will show CLEARLY in my writing… sorry (not sorry no1 rafayel stan) and i am a yapper

characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus

link to my master list here!!

more below the cut :3

sorry rafayel... but i feel like he's the most unskilled at kisses because - hear me out - you're his very first kiss. lemurians as a species seem to value bonds and loyalty, and as the literal sea god he wasn't able to nor wanted to just hook up or mess around - he's looking for devotion!!!

(okay, we ignore the kiss in forgotten sea myth story because like come on there was literally no romance mc was drowning)

definitely waits a while before kissing you, rayafel really takes his time to fall into place. after all, he needs to make sure his beloved bride/groom is well and truly his!!!

the type to wait for the ‘right moment’ - but doesn’t force or stage it ykwim? like the time comes naturally - e.g. watching the sunset, or you’re leaning close to him whilst he’s painting

he’s a romantic 100% like there’s a reason his 'floral promise' card was (imo) way fluffier compared to the others - like xavier's was tender-ish but rafayel was fucking melting

he's a sweet talker I just know it.

that charm he uses on his clients? he doesn't want to nor will he manipulate you with it but you know he's going to ramp up the charm to tease you a little

definitely knows his effect on you and uses it to his full advantage (cough cough fiery undercurrents secret times) like whispering in your ear, making excuses to touch you or get close to you

(i think he’d be more 'traditional' because of lemurian customs - the whole bonding + [forgotten sea spoilers] the sea god ceremony where the mc must devote themselves to rafayel displaying a strong level of devotion)

SUCH A GENTLE KISSER OMG like compared to his almost bratty and childish personality he’s a gentleman when it comes to kisses (also because he's kind of unsure what to do...)

the type to tuck strand of your hair behind your ear, fiddle with it a little maybe twirl it around his finger before trailing a finger along your jawline... i can see him like massaging your ear too? idk how to describe it he's a handsy man

first kiss was definitely more sweet than passionate ugawhriulgs he's such a cutie

right after the first kiss i think he’d be pretty affectionate, rather than bratty/tsundere since for him to kiss someone i believe he’d really need to love them (and therefore is more open to being vulnerable)

affectionate as in saying something cheesy probably, commenting on how you tasted or another one of his poetic, artistic quotes (dw raf we love it)

wouldn't be satisfied with just one after that, i can see him going in for a more passionate second and even a third (i mean look at his 'floral promise' memory OR 'fiery undercurrents') in the same few minutes

these follow up kisses would probably be longer and way less chaste, hands moving from tilting your chin up to your waist ahahahahahuwfa

you'd have to show him the appeal of tongue if that's your thing because he's seen it before but never really saw what was nice about it

"But... you're just drinking each other's saliva?" "Rafayel that's hot-"

definitely relived the moment in his head hundreds of times after that night - and you bet your ass he painted a piece inspired from your first kiss with him

any kisses after that i feel like they would follow this default pattern;

if he initiated the kiss i think he’d be more cocky and teasing, especially if he surprised you with one and he sees your flustered face

“Didn’t expect that huh, cutie?”

if you surprised him, however, get ready for typical rafayel childish behaviour, blushing and averting his eyes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a pout

“Hey- what was that for!!” Σ（・□・；）

either way rafayel is the worlds silliest man and would cave into literally anything with just a few kisses from you

ALSO KISS HIS COLLAR BONES AND YOU'VE GOT A WHOLE NEW SCENARIO TO UNFOLD

oh i just have a feeling this man is devouring you because puh-LEASEE?? sir we aren't forgetting your 'tender night' card i know that night was anything but tender

xavier is the definition of pent-up desire because this man has been waiting a LONG time and he's not going to be able to hold back very well

(taking heavy inspiration from his '21 days' memory because with his reaction it kind of feels like his first kiss with mc... but tbh i don't know much about xavi)

he's definitely not shy when it comes down to it, yeah he gets flustered if he thinks about it because of course imagining kissing the person he's pined over for centuries is going to fluster the shit out of him but he doesn't shy away form the idea or avoid the topic in conversation

i feel like he'd bring it up casually - like in the 'partner go go' event (aka heartbreaker-chasing-rhythm-game event) he was so insistent on the 'kissing page'

mc was like "apparently you can solve arguments with a kiss" and this mf straight up said "we can argue then" this man is STARVED

i feel like you'd need to initiate the kiss or give him very clear signs you'd be okay with a kiss for it to happen, i don't know why i just feel like he's that type of person

the first kiss is deep despite him trying his best to hold back - you can just feel his desire and longing oozing out of him and he's definitely on fucking cloud nine

xavier's holding your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek and god damn he's good at kissing where the fuck did he learn this from?

the type to break the kiss and then fucking bulldoze into the next one and my god his restraints have broken and he's actually kissing you as if it's the last thing he's able to do on earth

100% a tongue user he's biting at your bottom lip before slipping it in the sly minx

after the kiss he's more flustered than he expected to be - kissing the love of his life (literally) sends him into a flurry of emotions he's never really experienced before

given how possessive xavier is i wouldn't be surprised if halfway through making out he managed to leave a hickey or two in very. visible. places.

he isn't even pretending to feel guilty in the slightest, a smug grin as he shrugs out a half-assed apology.

"Sorry, I guess you'll have to try hide it. Or don't, that would be easier."

if you leave any marks on him he's not leaving you along that night. forget sleeping you two are recreating 'tender night' ALL night.

but seriously, if you leave hickeys over his neck (his canonical sensitive area and where he feels vulnerable) he's going to go crazy because what do you mean you want everyone to know he's yours??? what do you mean you want him as much as he wants you??

tldr; xavier is unusually talented with his mouth and is desperate to prove it to you.

i accidentally wrote way more for xavier than i expected i even cut out some bits holy crap maybe i’m more into xavi than i thought

oh no... zayne you beautiful man i am so sorry... (here comes the one character i have no idea how to characterise + no clue about his lore zayne fans pls bear with me)

okay - zayne looks like a gentleman and i'm sure he very much is even in intimate moments, but i cannot get rid of the idea that his first kiss w you was lowk spicyyyyy

like OH MY GOD I JUST WATCHED SNOWY SERENITY RN I FUCKIGN KNEW IT

that man was pouncing on you in a hospital bed, dishevelled, and kissing you deep my god like the type of kiss that literally as you forgetting where you are

i feel like zayne would be the one to initiate the kiss, again no idea why maybe i'm falling into the dominant zayne agenda

you're probably surprised when he kisses you because he's usually so composed, the 'cold unfeeling' dr zayne - then suddenly he's panting and pushing himself on top of you (consensually of course), pinning you down and going to town.

when he kisses you i don't think he's much of a lip biter, but if you bite his lips or lick at him or anything he's not opposed, as long as your lips are on his and vice versa

after the first kiss he's going straight into another one, his patience has thinned to the point of snapping and now he just needs you.

his hands what does he do with his hands? i'm thinking the typical otome face hold, gentle grasp juxtaposing his fervent kisses LOL

now, why does he kiss you?? how does this all build up? unfortunately all i can think of to match this scenario is something angsty or something along the lines of zayne has fucking had it and all he wants is you

"I need you... please."

this is the type of kiss where he wants to drown in you, breathe you in and just smother his being into yours to forget and erase whatever else is happening/happened

if he's kissing you and pinning you down and you bring up your hand to interlock fingers with him - your warm hands against his cool hands? wow his kissing is all of a sudden even more passionate.

after the little make out session he's going to go all mushy on you, physical affection of an embrace something uncharacteristic of him to match his dishevelled state

in kisses after the first i like the idea that he checks your pulse mid make-out and just silently smirks/chuckles when he notices it's faster and more erratic than usual

"Why are you nervous, this isn't our first time."

he also has this sneaky habit of whispering incredibly close to your ear, the reason why i choose to point this out it because i feel like sometimes he uses his evol to his advantage to like, breathe out cool air on your neck/ear and likes to watch you shiver

the ultimate dominant figure if you try to kiss him first and take control he somehow manages to overcome you and take the lead without using his strength, just good ol' sweet talking and technique

congratulations, you managed to snatch a kiss from the renown leader sylus!!!

i can see why people would think he's promiscuous or a fuck-boy because honestly i see it, but imo just because he is more flirtatious, assertive and... responsive (try tapping his... crotch... in the café LOL) does NOT = play boy

to me it just shows that - unlike the other LIs - sylus is just more forward with his approach, he has that devil-may-care like feel to him ykwim?

"Do I like you? What type of question is that, isn't it obvious? Or do I need to show you?" is much different to "Hey baby girl lemme rock your world tnite xx"

but just because he's got a 'fuck-all' attitude doesn't mean he fucks around with random people, he's 1. got standards and 2. living in the n109 zone?? do you THINK he can afford to let random people close just to fuck???

that being said i don't think he's a kiss virgin, just very selective and honest man when it comes to love and physical intimacy

now, when i say he isn't a fuckboy, that doesn't mean i don't believe in cocky-smugass-know-it-all sylus - he kisses well. and with PASSION. and probably the worst part is that he knows it.

first kiss with sylus? i can't imagine him making a large fuss about it like rafayel, nor it having to be some "i'm-at-deaths-door-and-need-to-kiss-you-atleast-once" situation like zayne, but no matter where or when you two share a first kiss he is making sure you remember

that being said, there was definitely a LOT of romantic and sexual tension between you and sylus for at least weeks before the kiss, i mean the air was thick with suggestive glances and denial

i think you two'd have to already be in close proximity which is very easy to achieve with sylus (touchiest man award goes to him) for the first kiss to initiate

he's grabbing your waist, or your face, makings sure your eyes are on. him. as you two kiss. watching with delight no matter what reactions you have, he admires you through surprised and flustered to confident and defiant

rather than a tender first kiss it’s probably a full blown make out session, just desire and lust flooding out of the both of you after having built up for over a month.

assertive does not mean he's going to force a kiss on you to clear this up, more that he likes to take the initiative and take control as you two kiss <3

yeah he's into biting (wow what a big shock) - likes biting your ear, or neck, or bottom lip, one time he tried nipping at your tongue too.

you can bite him back, he likes it.

"Hah, looks like someone is baring their claws tonight..." he’s really into that whole cat thing huh.

what does mr sylus do with his hands? waist, hips, ass, around your neck, pulling your face in by squeezing your cheeks, fingers threading through the hair on the back of your head, you name it he does it. again, i think sylus is a touchy man.

he doesn't mind if you try to take control, just dont expect to be successful. different to zayne - as in he will overcome your control with his evol and strength…

inappropriate use of his evol has occurred (he ‘tied’ you up and made out with you (CONSENSUALLY))

after his affinity 15 (i think) memory i can just tell he’s freaky with it bruhhh so yeah handcuffs are probably something he indulges in

if you’re persistent or physically overcome sylus you might get rewarded with a resigned, more submissive sylus

the idea or sight of someone man handling/overcoming his strength really sets him off.. i mean have you seen “no defence zone”?? but you’re really going to need to work to get him to this stage, and he’s going to have to love you

“No one’s ever seen me like this, lying on my back and begging for you.”

secretly finds out through you that he enjoys being dominated (BRAT SYLUS FOR 2024) so climb on top of him and kiss him until he’s blushing and panting hahahahahaha

tldr: sylus isn’t a fuck-boy but he sure kisses like one

AN; as an ao3 writer may say, no beta we die like caleb i wrote half of this when i was half asleep LMAOO anyways i hope this was okay please dont attack me BYE

[outlier-roddy]

in general I think abt Hardhead more than a lot of ppl probably. like he just spent his time in idw playing second fiddle muscle to someone more charismatic, from nightbeat to hot rod to optimus. also as a sidenote gotta love how he, chromedome, and brainstorm were main characters, leaving highbrow to claim the title of most forgotten g1 Autobot headmaster

LMAOOO you’re so valid tho dude

(also how the hell did i not realize before now that all those guys’ names had something to do with heads? that's uhhhh g1 subtlety for u i guess?)

[soulwillower]

tozier • ben hanscom

(ben hanscom x tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here's my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: swearing, smut, unedited bc im a lazy asshole 

ok guys here’s part one of the new series! i’ll probably have to go back in and edit some stuff n probably change the name but lmk what u guys think and what u wanna see for the next parts :) 

[losers and reader are in college in this.]

2.8k words

♡

you know richie pretty well, if you say so yourself. hell, you grew up with him - you've known him your whole entire life and even now, as 19 and 20 year olds, you're still at each other’s throats constantly. 

naturally, growing up with richie as your brother was full of ups and downs - like the time that you were still a baby in your crib and he'd curiously wandered into your nursery and twisted your finger, causing it to break. or, that time when you two got into a fight over who took the last of the ice cream in the freezer and didn't speak to each other for almost three whole days.

but there were really good times, too - like when richie picked you up after your disastrous senior prom night and drank vodka with you in the back of his pickup truck while you threw rocks at the creepy house on neibolt street. or the time where you bought him a new pair of glasses so your parents wouldn't kill him for breaking them and he bought you ice cream for a month as a thank you. 

richie was the most frustrating, annoying, rude, arrogant older brother, and yet even when you were away at separate colleges, you talked on the phone almost every night.

you share one of those really, really competitive relationships - a lot of it, you’ve realized, stems from your parents constantly pitting you two against each other to vie for their attention and praise. but no matter, you still hated richie most of the time and he hated you just as much. 

but right now, you might fucking murder him.

you have so much hatred for him as you storm down your stairs, phone clutched violently in your palm as you stalk into the basement, hollering, "richard!" at the top of your lungs. it's a hot august afternoon and you've just come back from the pool with your best friend, now filled to the brim with white hot rage for your brother. 

when you'd been at the pool, cecily, your best friend, had stretched her neck and you'd noticed a hickey (naturally, you'd teased her about it). but when you pried, she got secretive and defensive until it finally slipped out that the boy she'd been with was none other than your gangly, stupid older brother, richie.

you were completely disgusted and beyond addled as to why she'd choose richie, of all people, but more than that you were extremely pissed and stormed off, driving home with knuckles tight against the steering wheel.

and now, as you make it down to the last step of the basement, you're aware that you're still in your bathing suit with shorts thrown haphazardly on top as you storm towards your fuckwit brother.

he and all of the losers he hung out with are down here, sprawled on the large sofas and on the floor in front of the tv. you don't dare break your eye contact with richie as you glare, face heated with anger.

"well hey there, little sis. what's got your knickers in a knot?" he says with a lopsided grin that you just want to punch clean off his face. he's sitting between ben and bill and you turn a little pink as you notice both boys’ eyes on your body. yet you barely think for a second before slapping richie straight across his cheek, hard. 

the slap is a sickening sound as it quiets the whole room - you can feel bev's eyes on you, hear eddie's short gasp, and see out of the corner of your eyes as stan turns his head to watch the scene. richie stares at you, hand on his cheek. "what the hell, y/n?" he asks with a glare as he stands up, rising to his full height above you. but you’re not afraid. 

"you talk to cecily today?" you ask with feigned sweetness, a sick smile on your face as you cross your arms. richie just blinks at you, mouth opening and closing like the dumbass he is. "how long have you been fucking her?" you ask when he says nothing.

the room bursts in exclamations after your words - from mike's "you didn't." to bill's "what the f-fuck is wrong with you, m-man?" and ben's, "oh my god, dude."

richie just shakes his head, looking way too casual as he places a hand on your shoulder with a grin, "y/n/n, can we talk about this later? we’re trying to watch jeopardy." he smirks, but you immediately shake his arm off, recoiling in frustration as you glare at him. "no, richie! you’ve been fucking my best friend! my ONLY friend!" you ask, shaking your head. “you’re such a shitty person, i fucking hate you. why did you do it?” 

 as you make eye contact, he sighs almost forlornly, as if he’s about to apologize. but this is richie, so of course he doesn’t. "....she's just so fuckin’ hot." he says with a grin. 

you take a sharp breath, rubbing your face with your hands as you back away towards the stairs.

"c'mon, sis! don't be so sensitive." he calls to your back and you can practically hear the nasty grin in his voice. you hear eddie hiss, "quit being a fucking asshole." to your brother and you want to scream. "don't fucking talk to me, richie." you snap as you make it up the stairs, ignoring richie as he laughs his stupid hyena laughter. 

you're finally changed out of your suit and into a shirt and shorts by the time you've calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths. a knock makes you jump, though, and you glare at the closed door. as you're about to yell for whoever it is to go away, you're stopped by a voice.

"hey, y/n." ben's voice sounds through the door, and it's almost shocking how quickly your shoulders relax. you smile shyly as you open the door, your heart beating wildly, this time not from anger but out of your proximity to ben.

ben hanscom had been your brother’s friend for a while, and you simply did not understand. all of them are jackasses, richie being the king of the pack, but ben really does seem to be so fucking genuine. maybe it’s because you’ve always had a small thing for him, but then again it may just be because you’re furious with richie. 

"hi, ben. sorry i was.... sorry about that." you say awkwardly as he walks into your room and shuts the door gently. he laughs quietly as he leans against your wall, looking down at you knowingly. "it's richie's fault. you have every right to be mad. he’s a dick sometimes"

you nod thoughtfully, touched that ben came to check in on you. "i know he is. you know, i'm not even mad that they had sex, honestly, i’m just mad because i know he did it to piss me off." you say, biting your lip as you stare up at ben, his hair glinting under the soft light of your lamp. 

ben nods as he reaches out to rub your shoulder, making your stomach flutter as you look up at him. "if i can be honest, you two have the weirdest relationship i've ever seen, y/n. i'm sorry he did that and didn’t tell you, that's really unfair."

you smile lightly at the floor where your feet point towards his. "well now i have, like, nobody to hang out with this summer." you mumble, thinking about how cecily is really your only friend from derry, and how all your college friends live hundreds of miles away.

you shrug, leaning into ben's touch. "you have me to keep me company, though." he says with a shy grin, cheeks heating up at your smile.

"oh, just you? i like the sound of that." you ask, lifting a brow playfully. he chuckles a bit at your look and it makes your chest flutter.

"yeah, of course you do, y/n." he says as he pulls you into a hug. he's warm and smells like cinnamon cologne and it makes your chest glow sweetly. you pull back only slightly, hands sliding up to his chest as you look into his golden eyes. "ben..." you whisper softly, eyes going down to his lips and then bouncing back up, not wanting to make a move if he's not comfortable with it.

he clearly is thinking the same thing, because you're both moving closer and closer, his hands lightly squeezing your hips as he stares at you with hooded eyes. "yeah?" he asks, just as quietly. you swallow, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap just to see what it'd be like. to have one of richie's friends, for a change.

you don't know how to initiate it, though. "do you want to-"

"yes." he rushes out quickly, apprehension only flashing across his face just after he'd rushed out the answer, in fear that you'd been overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. but it's enough for you, and you grin slightly before pulling him into a kiss.

his lips are hot on yours, your hair still drying from the chlorine at the pool as his fingers tangle in the strands. you moan a bit out of shock, having not kissed anyone in a while and feeling touch starved. his hands are strong and soft in all the best ways and you try not to smirk as you think about your stupid brother sitting in the basement, currently unaware of what you’re about to do with one of his best friends upstairs. 

but then, just as your hand slips to the hem of ben’s jeans, he pulls back a bit. “is this a bad idea?” he asks.

you sigh, looking away. “yes.” you say with barely any hesitation. “but i don’t fucking care.” you say honestly, and ben grins, “well, me neither. you’re...” he looks you up and down before smiling. “so fucking pretty.” he ends with and your stomach flutters, face growing hot at the compliment. 

"but i don't want to, like.... t-take advantage of this situation, or-" ben starts, but you shake your head, biting your lip as you stare at him. he's so fucking amazing, so caring. he's always been like this - respectful, considerate, and interested in your well being, which really just makes you want him even more.

"no, ben, i... i really want this. if-if you do too." you say honestly, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him through your lashes. he grins as he nods. "you sure?"

you giggle, pulling him towards you by his neck. "yes. are you, ben?" you ask as he leans down closer. "definitely." he whispers against your lips, his breath coming out in a short huff. and then his lips are on yours, pressing strongly and fully as you stumble a bit, grasping him tightly as you kiss back.

he presses you against him, hand at the small of your back as he moves his tongue deftly against your lip, exploring your mouth as you suppress a moan. one moment later, you pull back a bit.

"you're not..." you trail off, and he shakes his head. "no, are you?" he asks, and you also shake your head as you cup his cheek and pull him back in for a kiss. "me neither." you mutter, falling back down onto the mattress, hand blindly fumbling around inside your bedside drawer for your box of condoms.

he's kissing down your neck, his hands palming your breasts softly as you finally pull one out and set it beside you, wrapping your arms back around his neck.

he grinds slowly against you and you let out an embarrassedly loud moan at the friction against your clothed clit. he's already pretty hard and your mind flickers to the basement, how chilly it had been against your skin and how your swimsuit top probably didn't leave much to the imagination as you'd stood right in front of him. it makes you giddy at the thought of ben's eyes on you, his mind drifting to what you'd look like underneath him.

which is where you are right now, as he rolls the condom onto himself and pumps slowly. you kick your shorts and underwear off, aching and dripping with need as he slides between your legs, bracing himself with one arm above you.

"ready?" he asks softly and you let out a strangled whimper as you feel him line up at your entrance, teasing your folds a bit and making your hips buck. "yes." you say, staring deep into his eyes.

ben grasps your hand then, steading both you and him as he eases into you, sinking slowly and letting out a shuddering breath. you let out a small whine at the feeling of ben stretching you out, having been too antsy and not having enough time or patience for foreplay. once he's fully inside you, he kisses your cheek and gives you a few moments to adjust as you breathe into his neck.

and then he starts to move, his hips rolling slowly as he fills you up and hits a perfect spot inside you, your toes curling almost immediately. "oh god, ben." you moan out and that makes his hips move fluidly as he thrusts into you, kissing your neck softly as you whimper in pleasure.

the hand that isn't steadying himself above you holding your hand dances around you; exploring your curves, fingers lightly tracing over the stretch marks on your hips and then his palm sliding to caress your sides, his touch making your skin feel on fire.

after a few more minutes, he picks up the pace, hips angled slightly deeper and making your toes curl. he starts to moan every few thrusts, right into the shell of your ear, and it pushes you closer and closer to that feeling growing in your abdomen.

"shit, y/n, i'm already close." he mutters, eyes closed in bliss as he leans his head back slightly, the sight heavenly to your eyes. and you don't even blame him because he's probably just as pent-up as you are and you know this has to be quick or else richie will come up, wondering why ben was taking so long to ask if you're okay.

so you lean up a bit as he thrusts into you and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking lightly enough that it won't mark. "so am i." you say breathlessly as you move your hips, chasing the high that's building deep inside you.

you press your hands to his chest, stopping his motions momentarily. "let me ride you." you say breathlessly and his eyes widen with something akin to hunger as he pulls out of you, rolling onto his back with a shocked look. you smirk as you climb back onto him, straddling him as you pump him a few times. he bites his lip as you sink yourself onto him, moaning and covering your mouth so as not to carry the sound all the way to the basement.

as you start to bounce, you smile, realizing that you're not at all insecure in front of ben - his hands are all over your body, running over and gripping the plush skin as you sink onto him, taking him perfectly. he's groaning and moving his hips with yours as you mouth wet kisses over his chest and neck.

ben lets out a moan that pushes you near the edge as you pick up the pace, his cock hitting a new spot inside you that has you whimpering. as his hands fall to move your hips with his, squeezing your soft thighs tightly, you hit your high.

you tremble as the feeling of him inside you makes you clench hard, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss as you moan out, "ben!"

your hips stop moving as you ride out your high, only making small movements as you clench around him in complete pleasure. he groans below you, eyes still shut as he juts his hips upwards, taking over to chase his own orgasm.

and his hips start to stutter a few thrusts after as you slump on his chest, one hand on your tits and the other on your hips to move you with his thrusts. he cums a few moments later with a moan that is muffled by your hair, his hands sliding down to your ass, your lips on his collarbone.

after a few moments, you roll off of him and sigh, shocked and unsure as to if that really just happened. you're embarrassed at how quickly he made you cum - you want to blame it all on the fact that it has been quite some time since you'd had sex, but it really was the thrill of hooking up with him, especially because your brother was just downstairs.

ben's cheeks are red as he sits up quickly, pulling on his boxers and then his pants, only looking at you after he tugs the hem of his shirt down. "um, i would totally stay, but-"

you shake your head with a grin, "no, i get it. this was... just a spur of the moment thing."

he beams at you, seemingly relieved that he wasn't hurting your feelings - that was amazing and you're both glowing in your post-orgasm high, but you both know that this was a one-time thing. he pecks your cheek sweetly and as he turns to leave, you mutter, "wait!"

he lifts a brow as he turns to you and you run your fingers through his hair a few times to make it look the way it did before he came up here. "thanks." he says with a grin before he disappears, closing the door behind him and making you get dressed with red cheeks in silence.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @brxken-heartsclub

[cyn-00]

Can you do #1 in Fluff? Sorry to be bother !

"Is this my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" WE STAN and you're not bothering, I love writing these, plus I asked for them! 💘

Prompt list (requests currently closed)

Read it on AO3

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

Just like every morning for the past three years, Morgan headed first thing to the break room of the BAU to grab a coffee for him and Reid - only, now he was his boyfriend.

"Ahem- well, good morning lover." Garcia's gleeful voice made him smile, even that early in the day.

He turned around and spotted a wicked smirk plastered on her face, the one she pulled off every time she had to gossip about something or knew things she shouldn't be knowing.

"Morning, sweetness." he replied sauntering closer, two cups of coffee in hand.

The woman's grin only widened as she began tracing teasing circles on Derek's chest with her cherry-red-polished fingernail.

Morgan narrowed his eyes at her. "A'ight, I'll take the bait. What's all this about?"

"Tsk tsk. Don't act like you haven't noticed." she replied - though it's not like that explained much.

"...noticed what ?"

Penelope dropped her hand, rolled her eyes and sighed heavily - it was a very over-dramatic show but entertaining all the same.

"Come ooooon"

Derek felt the urge to spread his arms in resignation, and immediately remembered about the cups filled with hot liquid he was carrying.

"Woman, I seriously have no idea what you're on about." he settled to respond.

She shook her head pitifully, silently removing both coffees from his grip to set them down on the table and grab his arm to pull him toward the window that faced the bullpen.

The man's eyes wandered for a few instants, and the confused frown creasing them didn't lessen a single millimeter.

Penelope glanced in between his face and the wide room outside before giving up completely, pointing a finger toward a certain someone.

"Look!!"

"'Look' at what? At Reid reading some file 20 thousand words a minute? What's unusual about that??"

"No!- Ugh, Look how he's DRESSED!!"

Morgan scrutinized the boy's sitting figure up and down a second too many.

"...so? What do you see ??"

He's damn pretty, what the hell should I see-

Oh.

"Oh." he gaped, his brows shot up.

"Yes, indeed, 'oh' is the right answer." Garcia teased, letting some moments of silence pass by before bumping the stunned man's shoulder playfully.

"Come on, lovebird." she winked, handing him back the cups - which he would've undoubtedly forgotten about.

Morgan didn't exactly know what he was supposed to say anymore, so he simply grinned and followed her outside the room.

Penelope demanded a peck on her cheek before parting ways to head back to her "lair".

-

Derek stilled a while longer and finally strolled toward his boyfriend.

"Hey, pretty boy." he greeted, leaning on the man's desk as per usual.

Reid's head darted up instantly - Morgan couldn't quite gauge if he really hadn't noticed him approaching or he was playing pretend.

"Oh!- Hi..." he responded, smiling timidly but more brightly than usual. At this point Derek stopped wondering, coming to the conclusion that Spencer was in fact pretending and that he probably had it all planned out to lure the man into asking the question.

Morgan passed him the coffee, and now that at least one of his hands was finally free he couldn't resist the impulse of caressing his boyfriend's cheek, quickly gaining a pink tint.

"...thank you." Reid murmured, dropping his gaze to fiddle with the brim of the disposable cup.

Derek stared affectionately at him a while longer, before putting his coffee down on the desk and folding his arms.

"Spencer?" he called almost whispering.

"Mh?" Reid leveled up his eyes again.

Morgan smiled. "Is this my shirt?" he asked, nodding his chin to point out the navy blue button-down hanging large on his boyfriend's frame; sleeves rolled up approximately twice and one of his stupid skinny ties tightly knotted around the collar, pointlessly trying to make it adhere to his slim neck.

Spencer shyly looked down at himself as though having forgotten what the shirt looked like for a second.

"...you mean our shirt." he mumbled, raising his gaze only after saying it.

Derek couldn't help but chuckle. "I guess." he agreed, shrugging non-committally.

Ever the overthinker, Reid hesitated; his content expression fading away as he eyed down at his coffee and ever-so-slightly made himself smaller.

"Uhm...I mean...y- you forgot it once at my place and you never asked...so I figured I would wear it at some point ?"

Derek didn't answer only because he was taken aback by the sudden change in tone and demeanor.

It must have been the wrong move - not to say anything - because Spencer put his cup down and rose to his feet.

"I- I have a spare one in my go-bag though! So I can change and give it back to you if-"

"No, baby, nonono" Derek reassured, now having picked up on the nature of the other's worry. He straightened up and cradled his boyfriend's cheek in his palm.

"Keep it." he said, and Spencer merely frowned as expected.

"You look even prettier than usual in my clothes." he explained. 'I didn't know it was possible' he wanted to add, but his boyfriend was already bright red and fidgety and twisting his fingers as he always did when Derek came up with compliments out of nowhere.

Spencer cleared his voice, only occasionally meeting the man's eyes. "It, uh...it fits you way better but...thank you."

The other shook his head, grinning widely. "Nuh-uh, don't even get me started."

Reid giggled, nodding. "Okay"

Morgan stroked his thumb back and forth on the boy's cheek twice or thrice more before half-heartedly detaching his hand with a sigh.

"I should get to work now or else I'll end up kissing you right here." he teased.

Spencer shrugged. "...I would do that if I were you."

"Ah," Morgan arched his eyebrows. "I see."

Playing tough guy was nearly impossible when Spencer asked him things with that face of his, so Derek simply complied and leaned in to stamp a quick, unnoticed, smiling kiss on his lips.

He pulled away and silently turned on his heels, but only after having taken in the flustered reaction of his pretty, pretty boyfriend.

[buckysbitch107]

I don’t know if requests are open, but if they are can I request a Steve Rogers x Reader where at the end of end game he goes back to his lover from the 40s but instead of Peggy it’s the reader(include any backstory that you want)? Like even his compass contains the picture of the reader and not Peggy. I love your wring so far btw, keep up the good work!!!

Home Isn’t Just A Place | Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When Colonel Phillips himself delivered the letter stating the love of your life (and best friend since 5 years old) was dead, you were more than devastated. You were still mourning the loss of your fiancé, mindlessly fiddling with the ring on your finger, when a much harsher knock rang at your door. You expected it to be perhaps your sister or a delivery boy. What you certainly didn’t expect was for your fiancé, who you were told was dead, to be standing at your doorstep.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Crying

Word Count: 2.38K

A/N: Hope this meets your standards! I tried my best with this one and i hope you enjoy it! Just a reminder that I will always be accepting requests! I will be writing a Part 2 to this, so stay tuned!

“It’s fine guys! I can cook something in the apartment!” You speak, the men on either side of you giving you a small glare.

“It’s our last night, (Y/N/N). We wanna make it special before you’re alone in the apartment.” Steve mentions, wrapping his arm around your waist. You’re still taller than him, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“That restaurant isn’t that good anyway.” You whisper, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice. You’d been looking forward to sitting in that restaurant since it opened, and when Bucky and Steve said they were taking you, that meant you could finally get a chance. That is, until you got there, and they didn’t have your reservation.

“Doll-” Bucky starts, soon being cut off by your voice.

“Guys. It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not (Y/N)! We wanted to treat you to something special, and now it looks like we’re having cabbage fuckin’ stew for dinner… again.”

“Or,” You pause, lifting your arm to point at the sign hanging off of the corner store at the end of the street. “We could get some food from Stan’s. It’s still open and we have enough money for some hot dogs.” The two men agree shortly after and the three of you quicken your pace, eager to get some food in your stomach. The small bell above the door rings through the air as the three of you walk in, the owner walking out from the back.

“Steve, Bucky, (Y/N)! Nice to see ya! What can I get for you?” Stan asks, his smile always bringing comfort to you three.

“Three hot dogs and three cokes please!” You respond, offering him a small smile yourself. He nods and taps some button on the register, pulling the crank before turning his head back up to you.

“Thirty cents please.” You start digging in your wallet when a hand stops you, and your head snaps to meet Steve’s eyes before he starts digging in his own wallet. He hands the man 30 cents before discreetly grabbing your hand, a small chuckle leaving your lips. Stan walks to the back and returns with three hot dogs in hand. He sets them down on the counter before reaching in the fridge and pulling out the drinks. You take them and thank him before walking out the door, Steve and Bucky following you out with their own.

“Let’s go to the docks! Watch the lights in the city!” You propose, turning back to face the two men. They agree and you all walk down to the docks, finishing your food and drinks shortly after getting there.

“Sorry, it had to end like this, (Y/N/N).”

“Meh, I liked this ending better. At least this way I can say fuck.” You giggle, turning back to look at your boyfriend. A soft melody fills your ears and you search for the source of the music. You soon find it as a band plays at an oceanside restaurant, where people are probably dining on the finest steaks and champagne, but you’re happy right where you are. Steve’s hand grabs yours and he smiles, both of his hands wrapping around your waist.

“Dance with me, doll.” You nod before placing your hands around his shoulders, the two of you slightly swaying to the music. Bucky lets out a short laugh before leaning against a lamppost. Steve grabs your hand and spins you around, the blue dress flying up around your waist as he twirls you in his arms. Your eyes drift closed as he continues to spin you, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth, and you finish turning and open your eyes to see Steve on one knee.

“Oh.” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth and you see Bucky smiling out of the corner of your eye as Steve pulls out a ring.

“I know, I know it isn’t much, but it’s what we could afford.”

“Wha-Whe-How?” You whisper.

“Well, we saved up for a bit.”

“I think you’re supposed to give a speech now, Stevie.” Bucky comments. 

“I’m getting there!” Steve responds, making you let out a hoarse laugh before you start choking on your sobs. “Doll, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, Buck being a close second. You’ve always been there for me when I’m sick, which is a lot. I wanna be with you forever. I want to have kids with you, I want to give you the best white-picket-fence life I can. I swear to love you for the rest of our lives, if you’ll be mine. What do ya say doll?” By this time, your hands have migrated from your mouth to your chest, and you wipe your eyes while nodding your head, choking out a short “yes” before Steve slides the ring on your finger. As he stands up, you begin to cry harder as you pull him into a bear hug. He pulls away and you place both hands on his shoulders, looking at him sternly.

“You better come back to me, you hear me?”

“I promise I will, doll.”

“No, I need better than a promise.”

“I swear on my life, dollface. Besides, I wouldn’t leave my best girl behind.”

~~~

You’ve seen all the adverts and movies about the one and only Captain America. People see him as a hero, as the man who punches Nazis straight in the face and kisses babies, but you still see him as the little guy from Brooklyn who couldn’t run the mile from fourth grade on. Yes, you missed your fiance very much, but you had faith that he would keep his promise and come home after the war. A few months after Bucky and Steve left, you picked up a waitressing job in a mom-and-pop diner on the weekends and weeknights alongside your job as a science teacher. Bills aren’t going to pay themselves, and Bucky and Steve aren’t here to help you. You walk in the door, returning home from your morning shift at the diner, planning on quickly changing clothes before running out and volunteering at the animal shelter, something you always did on Saturdays. You throw on a simple dress, the pale yellow glowing in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Your plans suddenly change when a knock rings at your door.

“One second!” You yell, finishing pulling up the zipper on the back of your dress before walking over to the door, opening it to see Colonel Phillips himself. “Colonel Phillips.”

“Miss (Y/L/N). May I come in?” He asks, the solemn look on his face causing an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Of course, sir.” You open the door a little bit wider and he enters the apartment.

“You may want to sit.” You follow his instructions and sit yourself down at the kitchen table, now noticing the letter in his hands. “I wrote it all out on paper, but I also figured I should tell you in person.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Captain Rogers crashed a plane into the ice to save the lives of millions of people yesterday morning. I would have gotten here earlier but there were some complications with the plane.”

“No.” You mumble, standing up to directly face the colonel.

“He has been declared Killed in Action, along with James Barnes.” Your head snaps up at his comment, tears already pooling in your eyes.

“What-what do you mean they’ve both been killed in action? What-” A sob rising in the back of your throat cuts you off and you have to steady yourself against the table. Phillips places the letter on the table as you try to quiet your sobs. He quietly nods his head before turning to the door, about to step out when you choke out a short “wait”. Colonel Phillips turns around as you compose yourself, wiping the tears off your face.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Am I allowed to give you a hug?”

“Yes ma’am.” You wrap your arms around him and place your head on his shoulder, the colonel hugging you back shortly after. The two of you pull away and you whisper a small “thank you sir” before he nods and walks out the door. You turn around and grab the letter, ripping it open before focusing on the words carefully typed on the page:

Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

437 West Clermont Street

Brooklyn, New York, USA

11201

I regret to inform you that both Captain Steven Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes have been killed in action in service of their country. As you know, Captain Rogers freed over 200 men across enemy lines in Azzano, Italy. He then formed a squadron, the Howling Commandos. That squadron took down more enemy bases than any other in history. It is with deepest condolences that we regret to inform you than on Saturday, February 19th, Sergeant James Barnes fell out of a moving train while defending Captain Rogers. On Friday, February 25th, Captain Rogers crashed a plane into the Arctic in order to save over three million lives from nuclear bombings. Not only has America lost a soldier, America has also lost a hero.

Deepest regards,

Colonel Chester Phillips

A loud sob erupts from your mouth as you throw the letter on the table, your hands quickly covering your mouth.

“No. Nonononono, they can’t be dead. I can’t- I can’t do this alone.” You back up against the wall, slowly sliding down as your fingers thread through your hair. It’s only when you look back at the ring on your finger that your tears of pain turn to those of anger. “YOU PROMISED!” You scream, not giving a damn if the neighbors can hear you. Your head falls into your hands as you curl up into a ball, your sobs echoing through the now eerily empty house.

“You promised.

~~~

It was a nice funeral. A lot of people you knew were there. Dum-Dum, Gabe, Jim, and Monty came, while Jaques sent his condolences. It was small, but Steve would have liked it. Yeah, you sobbed, but so did everyone else. You sit numbly in your house, the walls no longer filled with laughter, the floors no longer covered in flour and paint, now only scuff marks from your pacing panic attacks. You’re mindlessly fiddling with your ring when a knock sounds at your door, this one sounding louder and overall harsher than the other ones you’d been experiencing for the past week. You stand up and walk over, not caring to check the peephole before opening it. And standing there, is the man you were told crashed a plane into the arctic.

“Wha-”

“Hi, doll.” You slowly start shaking your head before walking away from the door, simply leaving it open.

“No, no. Nonono. You crashed a plane into the arctic. Your signal went dead. You were presumed dead! I’m going mad, I’ve gone absolutely bonkers and now I’m imagining the love of my life is in my living room when he’s buried somewhere in the Arctic!” You rant to yourself, tears slowly gathering in your eyes. You stop when Steve puts both hands on your shoulders, stabilizing you and forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“God, is this what happened after I crashed?” He mumbles, looking up and down at your frantic form. Your clothes have become a little looser, your hair a little thinner, the bags under your eyes just a bit more noticeable. But that’s not the only thing that’s changed. You look at Steve and notice he looks… different. He looks older and more exhausted.

“You aren’t my Steve?”

“Sit down doll, I have a lot of explaining to do.”

~~~

“So you’re from-”

“Yeah.”

“But you still-”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m still-”

“Yep.”

“But wouldn’t this-”

“Nope.”

“Huh. And this Thanos dude he-”

“Eliminated 50% of all living beings. Yes.”

“And you’re back here because you’re delivering the stones back to their original places in time and wanted to see me?”

“Yeah pretty much.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“So, can I have this dance?” He stands up and reaches his hand out to you. You smile and take it, the man pulling you into him. You notice as the two of you start swaying that he’s suddenly more relaxed, and that he’s definitely gotten more muscular over the years. You dance for a little while longer before he tilts your chin up, meeting your lips for a gentle kiss. “God I missed you doll.”

“I missed you too.” The two of you stay silent a little longer before he pulls back slightly, a serious look on his face. Uh oh.

“Come back with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Come back with me. To 2023.”

“Stevie, I can’t. I have so many responsibilities, and it could mess up the timeline and-”

“Nope. Already checked with the Ancient One. Said it should be fine as long as no one knows about it.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, you can meet my friends, and we can finally get married, and Bucky will-”

“Wait what? Bucky’s alive?”

“Oh yeah, he was captured by HYDRA but we got him back.”

“You’re gonna need to catch me up on everything.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Fine. I’ll come with you, but if I throw up it’s your fault.”

“Deal.”

~~~

“I’m trying to bring him back!” Banner yells, flicking switches and pressing buttons on the dash. Bucky bites at his cuticles, something he does when he’s nervous, also something you used to yell at him for. The launchpad starts whirring again and both Bucky and Sam’s heads shoot up at the noise, not familiar with it at all.

“Um, is that supposed to happen?” Sam asks.

“Only when there’s more than one body being transported.” Banner mumbles, pressing a few more buttons. “Okay. Bringing him back in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

“AH-oomph.” Bucky’s eyes widen as his brain registers the yellow dress, the sparkling eyes, the dazzling smile.

“(Y/N)?!” He yells, giving both you and Steve a confused look. You sit up on the launchpad and look around, not familiar with any of your surroundings.

“Hiya Buck! Oooh, love the hair! Nice to see it change from the ol’ buzzcut.”

Permanent Tags: @wintersoldierslut​ @breakmy-bedbarnes@stuckys-hot-dogs​ @andreasworlsboring101 @yaxamarvel @donutloverxo

Just a reminder that all requests are open! My masterlist is in my bio, so you guys know who I specialize in, but really I do anyone y’all request. As I’ve mentioned, nothing is too fluffy, angsty, smutty, or gorey for me. I mainly write Marvel and its characters/actors. I can also write some characters from other things, you just have to ask! Also please let me know if you want to be a part of the Permanent Tags! But please, for now,

Call me Emily

[honkhonkrichard]

21 with reddie

 21. Best Friends Sibling AU

This got way longer than I thought and I’m calling it ‘Get it right the First Time’ after the billy joel song okay ‘njoy! (WC: 1600+)

“He’s adopted. We all are.” Stan said out of the blue, after dinner. 

“What?” Richie asked.

“Eddie. He’s adopted. So is Ben. Bill is too.” He said again, louder this time. 

“I-I mean.. I guessed.” Richie shrugged. “Cause they’re white and you’re-” Richie threw a hand over at Stan. “Not.” 

“Israeli.” 

“I forgot the word.” 

“clearly.”

“I-I didn’t have to know, dude, it’s not a big deal.” Richie stammered.

“You were staring at Eddie the entire meal.” Stan said loosely, eyes never leaving his book. 

Richie shifted. He was staring at Eddie. How could he not? He was… gorgeous. Big grey eyes, freckled, tan skin, wavy blond hair and the cutest little face. He had a look of perpetual surprise and annoyance, like someone just stole his parking space. 

He sat a the table quietly nearly the whole meal, watching the conversation with curiosity and every now and then, his eyes shifted over to Richie. 

Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the younger boy. He was so… pretty. The light from the dining room was framing his face this side of perfect, and his sweater was too big and it gave him the sweetest little sweaterpaws- 

“I wasn’t staring at Eddie.” 

Stan’s eyes looked up from his book, sharp and intelligent as usual. “Liar.” 

“So what If I was?” Richie said, probably too defensively. “What’re you gonna do about it?” 

“Give you my blessing.” Stan said from behind his book, light green eyes still locked on Richie. 

“I don’t think I get you, Uris.” Richie lied, because he was quite sure he did. Rich hadn’t been subtle with his idiot grin and enthusiasm with trying to talk to Eddie, who didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.

“I think you do, Tozier.” 

“Stanley?” Someone said from the door. 

Richie looked up to see Eddie clamped around the door frame, sweater paws and cute grumpy surprise in full swing. Turns out he was wearing little shorts too. Richie gulped. 

“Yes Eddie?” Stan said innocently, putting his book down.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked Richie over, the frown in his lips grew. Richie felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” 

“Sure.” Stan blinked, and stood up. He looked considerably older than his siblings, Richie decided, trying not to imagine his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “Rich, you’ll give us a minute?” 

“Course.” 

Stan left the room, and Eddie disappeared with him, leaving Richie alone with himself to think about how much Eddie licking his lips after dinner had drove him crazy. 

I gotta stop. Richie thought, rubbing his face. Gonna go half chub thinking about it too much. He decided to mindlessly fiddle with his bracelets. 

Stan strutted back into the room not longer later, sunk back down into his desk chair, handed Richie a small slip of paper and tucked his hands behind his neck, stretching out like a cat. 

“Get out.” 

Richie’s eyes widened. “Eddie doesn’t like me, does he?” 

Stan shrugged ominously. “It’s me that wants you out.” 

“Rude.” 

“You have a crush on my baby brother.” Stan said simply.

“Baby.” Richie grinned.

“Out please.” 

Richie huffed and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yeah?” Stan nodded in response, and Richie left the room, closing the door behind him (He may be a douche but he wasn’t a barbarian.)

Richie silently gazed into the hallway. All the doors were labeled. Ben’s door was closed, Bill’s was half open (Though loud horror movie noises were coming from behind it.) and what Richie assumed was Eddie’s was wide open; the quiet sound of tapping the only sound from it. 

The horror movie paused and Bill swung his door open, eyeing Richie curiously. 

“Sup man?” Richie waved. 

“W-What’re you doing?” Bill asked, voice lower and more angry than it had been at dinner. 

“Uhhhhh I just left Stan cause he kicked me out and then I got lost in thoughts. What’s up with you?” Richie admitted. 

Bill glared him up to down. Richie wasn’t sure why he was angry. They got along fine at dinner, joked about how they had no idea they both worked at the same place (Charlie’s vinyls, Bill had the day shift, Rich took the night shift) and now he was being judged. 

“If you fuck over my brother, I’ll slaughter you.” Bill promised, and then closed the door. 

“What?” Richie mumbled as the horror movie clicked back on. 

Richie made a face and went down the hall, and couldn’t stop himself from peering into Eddie’s room. 

There were lots of knick knacks everywhere, succulents, a big desk and Eddie curled up in his too big sweater, typing away on a laptop. He noticed Richie, clearly looking at him through the corner of his eye (still surprised and annoyed) and took a deep breath, trying to continue typing. 

Richie gave a him a toothy smile. Eddie did not respond. 

“So… Uh… Do you.. like… Did I- Um.” Richie tried. Words weren’t working. 

Eddie sighed and got up from his chair and then-

closed the door. 

Richie snapped some finger guns at the closed door. “Cool.” He said. “Dope I’ll uhhhhh see you later.” 

- 

That night, Richie nodded along to the music blasting through his headphones, and emptied his pockets. Wallet. Phone. Rings he forgot to put on after he washed his hands for dinner. Piece of paper Stan gave him that he never read. Pop can tab. Wait.

Richie picked up the paper and unfolded it. It had a small message written in red pen on it; it looked like it had been scribbled over relentlessly. It also had a snapchat username.

Snap: KasperEddie youre rly hot attractive and it makes me nervous but i wanna keep talking 2 to you - eddie (the small blonde one of stan’s brothers who gets really nervous around you)

Richie didn’t bother fighting the smile off his face. His day was looking up. Even though it was 11:26 at night. 

He nabbed his phone and collapsed on his bed, adding Eddie’s username, and taking a quick photo of him lying in bed and sent it to the cutie patootie. 

Tozier Boy🤙 (Trashrecords): Heyyyyyyyyy got ur message closing the door on me was rly sex c of u

The response was almost immediate. It was a photo of Eddie’s computer. Looks like he was writing an essay.

Eeeeeeee: Sorry you make me nervous I didn’t know what else to do

Richie grinned wildly and stuck his tongue out at the camera, still lying in bed

Tozier Boy🤙: ill let it slide cause youre cute as hell xox

Then he texted Stan.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:29): you BASTART whyd u kick me out if eddie liked me

And got a snap from Eddie: A photo of his keyboard:

Eeeeeeee: oh!!! 

“Holy fuck.” Richie whispered. “You are fucking adorable.” 

and he sent Eddie a photo of his ceiling saying just that.

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:35): Because Eddie told me to. Said you made him nervous. He also told Bill he liked you and if you started speaking to Eddie Bill would put 30 rounds in your chest.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:35): hot damn 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:36) Also; Ben wants you to come back over and give him “Romance Advice” because you seem “With it” 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:37): u never told me ben was a grandpa

The next image was of Eddie’s face, which was cute enough, except he had drawn blush onto himself. Eeeeeeee: thank you

Immediately following it was a black screen: omg im covered in acne and im sweaty im so sorry

Richie took a photo of him making a desperate face. 

Tozier Boy🤙: can we go out i need to get you comfortable with me holding your cute little face as soon as fucking possible also can u go call Ben a grandpa its very important

A photo of a confused bed tucked into a beanbag chair: Eeeeeeee: he said stan JSUT called him that fjkdhflkjdhfjdkhjkd

Richie smiled against his pillow, trying to breath slowly to calm himself down. Holy fuck this fucking kid. 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:45) We’ve made Ben very sad. 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:45) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:46) He told me Eddie called him a grandpa too and made the “:(” face and then told me you just “Walk with.. uhm.. swagger and stuff. [You] just seem to know what he’s doing..” Little does he know-

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:46) who’s gonna tell him im dumbass

Then Richie went back to Eddie, trying to pull himself together, took a photo of his dog. 

Tozier Boy🤙: so…. did u…… wanna …..hmmmmmmm… go out sometime.?

The next photo was of Eddie’s wide eyes, it was blurry, like he was moving as he took it. 

Eeeeeeee: !!!!!! CAN U BRING UR DOG

“God damn.” 

Tozier Boy🤙: which one I got 2 an old man corgi (Amante/Ames) and this baby (Bellissima/Belle) 

Eeeeeeee: BOTH!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM

Then Eddie sent another black screen. 

Eeeeeeee: Fr though I would like a date. Do you like ice cream?

Tozier Boy🤙: im lack toes and taller ants i love ice cream how about this saturday at noon?

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:53): Eddie’s cackling madly what the fuck did you do

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:53) lack toes and taller ants dude

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:54): Cool. Stop it.

Eeeeeeee: sure!!

Richie dropped his phone to the side and danced against his bed. Waving his hands to The Safety Dance. Dates, dogs and cute boys. Okay. 

He spent the rest of the night talking with Eddie, grinning widely the whole time. 

[89tczier]

People are talking

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

read on AO3 

word count: 3.9k

7 days before

“–and keep an eye on Ben and Bev!” Richie shouts, “I don’t want my bed broke–” he’s cut off by a very exasperated Eddie.

“Can it, Trashmouth,” He snaps, pulling Richie the rest of the way through the door by the lapels of his jacket. For some reason, those two were being trusted to bring back some actual alcohol rather than the shit Richie’s always left with at the end of the month. They all know its gonna take them twice as long than if anyone competent was sent, but the others are frankly just too lazy to offer themselves.

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

Bev’s quick to respond, patting his back and giggling in a way that makes Ben feel a little loopy, “jeez, babe, you alright?”

Ben nods, composing himself under the watch of his friends, clearly interested in what could have possibly caused this outburst. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just,” Ben casts a glance back at the door, “they’re like… totally in love, right?” He’s met with nothing but confused looks.

“Richie and Eddie?” Stan asks incredulously while perched in Mike’s lap.

“Richie and Eddie,” he confirms.

Bill, currently nestled under Mike’s arm, snorts like it’s one of Richie’s stupid jokes, “the f-fuck are you on about?”

Ben almost gawks like he didn’t just figure this out, but he did kind of expect the pieces to fall quickly into place once he pointed it out, “have you not seen the way they act? Textbook married couple.”

“They’ve always been like that though,” Bev shrugs, her brows furrowed as she appears to be trying to follow Ben’s logic (he loves her for trying).

He raises a finger. “My point still stands,” and goes on to explain, “they’re literally always together, hanging off each other… who’s the first person Richie asks for at a party? Who does Eddie always sit next to on movie night? They just– how can you guys not see it?”

“You’re talkin’ absolute bullshit, Benny,” Mike shakes his head, “Eddie’s close to ripping Rich’s head off half the time.”

“Oh come on, if he was really that annoyed he’d have said something about it. Eddie doesn’t stand for anything he doesn’t like.” Ben takes a pointed sip of his shitty beer to punctuate and this point seems to land, and Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the least bit satisfied with himself. He’d always had an eye for this stuff, even if he was rather shitty at acting upon it himself (but hey, it worked out pretty well for him).

“Leave it to Trashmouth Tozier to flirt with someone by annoying the life out of them,” Bev smiles.

“And leave it to Eddie fuckin’ Kaspbrak to flirt back with threats and holy fuck Ben I think you’re right.” Mike’s face goes blank.

“See!”

Bill still seems like he’s considering it, “it would explain a l-lot, mainly how Eddie hasn’t actually k-k-killed him yet… a-nd the fu-fucking hammock!”

A chorus of ‘holy shit’s go around the circle. Then it all becomes clear.

“God, they’ve had this since high school?” Bev snorts.

“Why haven’t they said anything?” Mike asks, “It’s not like we’re gonna care, we’re one big lovey mess,” he squeezes both Stan and Bill for emphasis.

“I don’t think they’re dating, necessarily, they’re just… in love.” Ben shrugs.

Bill grins, “now that guh-gives me an idea…”

“You’re hot when you scheme,” Stan hums, resting his head against Mike’s.

“Tell me about it,” Mike agrees, and is poked gently by Bill.

“I think, and I s-say this only for the b-benefit and happiness of my two dumbest friends, we should… encourage them to get a fuh-fucking move on.”

Bev shuffles forward and straightens up, “like… goad them together?”

Bill raises his bottle, “exactly,” and takes a sip while Mike and Stan nod to each other in agreement.

“Smokin’ hot.”

Bill chokes, and laughter fills the room as he curses his boyfriends out.

“Sounds like we’re missing out on something, Eds, they’re officially kicking us out,” Richie pretends to mope as they enter Richie’s apartment again, a bottle in both of his hands. Eddie scoffs.

“Maybe you, asshole, you’re the one who got held up by some dog on the street,”

They all wait for it.

“And don’t fuckin’ call me Eds!”

Richie grins like he’s won a prize.

–

6 days before

Bev isn’t the least bit fucking surprised when she wakes up to see she’s been added to a group chat called “operation: let’s get our two losers together”. She smiles, shifting some in Ben’s arms. He stirs, letting out a warm breath against her skin that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight.

“You see this?” She asks, turning the screen some so he can see. He squints and lets out a sleepy chuckle which makes Bev melt a little. She runs a hand over his forearm and locks their hands together, squeezing for good measure.

“God, this is either gonna go great or really terrible,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her shoulders.

She hums, turning to face him, “I don’t know… I have a good feeling about this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… they seem meant for each other, I guess…” she pauses, smiles, and kisses him, “we all do.”

Ben smiles against her mouth and is about to return the favour when a string of texts floods both their phones.

put it away Benny Boy, we’ve got matchmaking to do ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:23

Meet us in our flat ~ Stan, sent at 08:23

guys, give em the chance to wake up, they had a long night ;) ~ Mikey, sent at 08:24

they need to hurry up and get a move on, we’ve been talkin all night and they need to get caught up ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:24

Well, not all night ~ Stan, sent at 08:25

…cease ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:25

“On second thought, this is the worst idea ever.”

She cackles, dragging both of them up and towards the bathroom. The boys could wait a little longer.

“Casa de Stan, recently co-owned by Bill and Mike too, speaking please?” This is always how he answers, the dope.

“Hey Mikey,” Ben says, voice still a little groggy from sleep. God, he’s hot, Bev thinks to herself, slotting a gloved hand into his.

“Hey guys!” The door clicks open, and they breeze up the first flight of stairs.

Bill greets them at the door, still in his sleep shirt. “Don’t,” he deadpans, right as Bev’s about to poke fun at the bruising around his neck and chest. She grins slyly at him, patting him on the back as she passes him.

“Benny! Bev! Get in here!” Mike calls from the den. Bill follows them in, taking a seat next to Mike and throwing his legs over his boyfriend’s lap. Stan’s stood hunched over the small stove on the other side of the room, scrambling some eggs which smell unfairly delicious to a moderately hung-over Beverly.

“You’ll get some in a minute,” he states, reading her mind.

“Always knew you were my favourite,” she said, which earns a ‘hey’ from both Mike and Bill.

Bill calls them all to sit down, explaining that they need to actually plan this out as quickly as possible. Richie and Eddie were the only ones with early classes that day and it would be suspicious (and mean) if they were told to keep at bay while the rest of them hung out.

They chow down on some scrambled eggs (which exceed expectations, Bev reminds herself to get the recipe off of Stan), and it ends up working out like this:

They’re going to pry for a few days, see if they can get a rise out of either of them, then at the end of the week they’re all going to meet up at Stan’s place. Using an excuse they haven’t though of yet, they’re going to try to get both Eddie and Richie into the bathroom at the same time and then block the door.

“N-nothing like a confined space and a l-little bit of drink to get the vibe g-going,” Bill grins.

“Speakin’ from experience there, Big Bill?” Beverly playfully chides, giggling as Bill’s ears go pink.

Ben hums quietly, “what if they don’t go for it?”

“They looked three seconds away from mauling each other last night, I think they’ll jump at any excuse they get,” Mike points out, and the plan is set.

They say their goodbyes afterwards, and as Bev fiddles with the key to their flat, Ben takes her wrist gently, turning her around and pulling her into him.

“I love you,” he says, and kisses her in that wonderful way he does that leaves her wanting so much more.

“I love you too,” She grins, draping her arms over his shoulders, “always will.”

–

4 days before

Richie is head over fucking heels, Bill decides.

The two of them offer to help Eddie study terms for a quiz at the end of the week, which fuck knows why they had any hope of that working.

They start off well, Richie and himself trading roles as Eddie nailed each piece of terminology about cognitive processes with detailed explanations to boot. It takes about ten minutes of their relaxed sprawling over Eddie’s floor for their resolve to break. It starts with Richie’s foot-tapping Eddie’s shin to the beat of whatever song he’s humming as Bill reads from the flashcards. Then it’s the complements, and holy fuck, how has Bill never caught this before.

“So smart, so cute!”

“Rich, if you don’t shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Can’t help it, I’m like a mama bird watching her baby take flight for the first time. Just wanna puke some worms into your mouth.”

“Richie! That’s fucking disgusting!” Eddie near screeches, pushing himself up and lunging forward, knocking Richie back onto the ground and pinning him down. Richie’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, and Eddie is too. He can’t believe these assholes are in college.

Okay, this is perfect, Bill thinks, as right on cue, Eddie leaves the room to grab his textbook.

“Got somethin’ on my face, Billy?” Richie asks once he catches the ‘care to explain?’ look Bill is giving him.

“Don’t w-worry about it,” Bill gives his best nonchalant shrug, “it’s just cute, that’s all.”

And he catches it, the signature ‘i’m fucking whipped’ look: the dopey smile, the avoidance of eye contact, the excepting laugh. Gotcha, bitch.

“Isn’t he just?”

–

2 days before

Stan’s starting to fret.

The text came through a few minutes ago, and Stan is reeling.

eddie said he met a guy last night??? went home w him and everythin??? ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:03

“A one night stand?” Mike asks, leaning over Bill’s shoulder to read with Bill’s glasses on because his own are fuck knows where.

“Fucking apparently?”

“Okay, this might not be as b-bad as it seems. They d-don’t know about the other l-liking them, yeah? Eddie’s p-probably, like, in denial or coping or som-something.” Bill slots his glasses off of Mike’s face.

Stan stops pacing and takes a breath, collapsing onto the arm chair opposite, “you’re right, probably just Eddie being stubborn.”

“‘Atta boy, Stan,” Mike grins, shifting to the side and stretching out his legs, resting them in Bill’s lap.

did eddie seem interested in the guy? ~ Big Bill, sent at 13:11

not really, didn’t really talk about him much ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:12

They all sighed.

“Why are we so invested in this again?” Stan mumbles.

“Because it’s gonna be entertaining as fuck if we pull it off.”

–

1 day before

Mike has more luck.

He, Bev and Eddie are browsing around the grocers, preparing for tomorrow when they hear a yelp from the isle next to them. Mike peeks around, seeing a very excited looking Richie pick Eddie up from behind, bouncing him around like he weighs nothing. Mike expects a slew of curses, but Eddie giggles like Mike’s never heard before.

“Put me down, you asshole! You’re gonna knock something over.”

“You’re the one flailing your limbs, Eds– Mike and Ikes! Fancy seeing you here!” He damn near drops Eddie, who’s flushed and breathless.

“We’re trying to shop, you asshole, can’t we have five minutes peace,” Eddie gives him a light shove.

“Oh I know, I’m on a last minute supply run.”

And Mike’s stupid enough to fall for it and ask, “why?”

“Pickin’ up Eddie’s mom, need condoms.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and they both laugh as Eddie goes ballistic.

“Get the fuck out of here, Trashmouth, before I commit a crime,” he shoots Richie daggers, and Rich gives him a salute.

“Sir yes sir,” he half-shouts, sprinting over to a very tired looking cashier.

Eddie’s still watching him, “asshole,” he says with so much fondness Mike thinks he might start floating.

“You don’t seem to mind,” He pokes at Eddie’s pinked cheeks, snorting as Eddie smacks it away from his face.

“Hey dipshits,” Bev calls, carrying a basket full of crisps and liquor, “did you get the chasers?”

Eddie sighs, turning on his heel and walking back to the fridge, which Mike’s guessing was where he was heading before Richie snatched him up.

“Will diet do?”

“Sure, go crazy.” Mike says, as he quickly types.

eddie’s absolutely gone for him, this is gonna go great ~ Mikey, sent 21:33

–

The night of

It’s a slow day for Eddie. His test has been eating away at him slowly and painfully (no matter how  many times Richie said he’d crush it) and while he left feeling confident, he knows he’s still gonna stress about it. It goes fine, but he’s still thinking about it during his shift and the worry hasn’t left him.

It’s just a stupid test, he thinks as his stomach continues to knot itself. Thank god he’s getting drunk tonight.

Eddie lives the furthest away from Stan’s (and Bill and Mike’s) and he really doesn’t wanna walk that far in the cold so he stops by Richie’s after class, knowing he probably has a couple of nice shirts left over there from nights where he’s really too drunk to go home, inevitably leaving the next morning in one of Richie’s shirts instead (huh, funny how that happens). He also knows that if he so much as catches sight of his roommate, he’ll fucking blow up.

He fishes Richie’s key from his pocket, lets himself in and thinks Christ, would it kill Rich to clean up a bit? He’s certain that the pillows from the couch are still there from last Friday. He steps over them after pushing off his shoes in the corner.

“Rich, You fuckin slob! Clean your apartment,” Eddie calls out in place of a hello.

“Afternoon to you too, Eddie!” He hears back. Eddie follows his voice through to the bedroom and finds himself lost for fucking words.

Richie’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror, shirtless, drying off his mess of curls with a towel. He doesn’t notice him for a moment, and Eddie takes that moment to curse the way those jeans hang from his hips. He lingers on Richie’s wiry frame for just a moment more than he probably should.

Damn, Tozier he huffs.

“You peeping on me, Eddie?” Richie’s dumb Southern Belle accent should drive Eddie up the wall, and Eddie does roll his eyes, though it’s really just for show. They both know that.

“Your den is a mess.”

“I like it that way,” Richie’s quick to reply, brushing past Eddie as he heads for his dresser.

“Tough shit, I don’t,” Eddie snaps back, now back in his rhythm as the blood returns to his brain.

Richie grins as he picks through his shirt, taking his sweet time with it and all Eddie can focus on is the hint of his happy trail poking out above the waistband of his jeans. He chooses one, and now Eddie can actually look away as Richie holds the tee up for his approval.

It’s his The Cure one, black, matching his nails and jeans, and easily Eddie’s favourite, both on Richie and to wear himself (it’s comfortable, and it definitely has nothing to do with the looks Richie gives him in it).

They kill time by fixing up Richie’s couch and watching weird ASMR videos on Richie’s laptop. Eddie’s sure the effect is lessened by only having one earbud, but it’s still uncomfortable but so worth hearing Richie snort each time Eddie cringes.

“Is it just me,” Richie says, hitting pause on a woman in cat ears about to pretend to ask them out, “or have the others been acting weird.”

“Right?” Eddie yanks the earbud out, “Bev’s been like… weirdly invasive… like more than she usually is.”

“They all have, what do you think it’s about?”

“I have a funny fucking feeling we’re gonna find out.”

–

There’s a weird fucking vibe in the place when he and Eddie arrive.

“We miss out on the world’s weirdest orgy or something?” Richie asks, mostly joking, as eyes fall on the two of them.

Stan makes an exaggerated gagging sound, and Bill’s face screws up. What a great audience he has.

“Shut up and sit down, Trashmouth, we’re doing shots,” Bev playfully snarls at him.

It gets a little less weird the more Richie has to drink, but he’s either going crazy or there’s something going on. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie shrugs right before he throws a shot back, and Richie gets to watch his Adam’s Apple bob and his eyes squeeze shut and his nose crinkle up because Eds–

“–cant fuckin stand tequila.”

God, he’s cute.

He meets Richie’s gaze, “what the fuck are you smirking about?”

He’s hot, too.

“You take every shot like it’s your fucking first, Eds,” he teases back and it’s huskier than he means it to come out, because he’s tipsy and can’t stop staring at that little drop of liquor running down Eddie’s chin.

Bill chokes, sending everything in the shot glass over his face. Mike cackles.

“Rich, can you go g-get me a f-fuckin washcloth.”

And it’s there that everything ramps up to fuckin’ eleven. Ben starts grinning, Stan’s got that fucking look on his face that can only mean trouble.

“Why the fuck do I have to do it?”

“C-cuz you m-made me spit every-w-where!”

Richie puts his hands up in mock defeat, “alright, alright, damn.” And he stands up, shuffling into the bathroom.

“Oh!” Stan calls after him, “my contacts too!”

“Aye aye!” Richie yells back, scanning the mirror cabinet for anything resembling a fucking contact case. Disinfectant, no, flavoured lube, nice but no… Richie’s squinting as if that’s gonna fucking help. “Can’t fuckin find ‘em, Stan!” He calls back out to them.

He hears a soft “Eddie, go help him,” from Mike.

“You’re going blind for real, fuckface, lemme see,” Eddie rolls his eyes at him, and tries shoving Richie out of the way with his side, but really just ends up pushed up against him. He’s warm and smells of spirits and vanilla, Richie doesn’t fight back, nor does he notice the others approaching the bathroom either.

He’s so focused on the way Eddie’s tongue pokes out of his mouth ever so slightly when he’s concentrating he’s a second too slow to realise.

“When did Stan start wearing contacts– oh shit, Eds, wait–” Richie’s barely gotten the words out before the bathroom door slams shut, making Eddie jump closer against him.

The other losers are whooping and hi-fiving from the other side of the door, and Eddie turns to stare at Richie as if to say what the fuck just happened???

“Beats me.”

“Admit it and we’ll let you out!” Bev says in what Richie assumes is a terrible Terminator impression.

It takes a second (again, because liquor and Eddie) to realise, and he flashes Eddie the biggest grin he can muster.

“Golly gee, Eds, I think they figured it out!”

He’s not being loud, but the others can apparently hear him, because they’re gloating stops in an instant.

Eddie matches his grin, “fucking finally,”

“Wait, what?” Mike sounds confused.

The door opens, and the others are staring at them like their fucking martians.

“Wait what the fuh-fuck?”

Hm, that’s interesting.“I have a feeling there’s been a big misunderstanding,” Richie starts, still grinning.

“Did you guys do it already?”

Eddie snorts, Richie scratches the back of his neck, “uh, gonna have to ask you to be a bit more specific, Benny.”

“Confess. Did we not hear it?”

Eddie frowns, “confess to what?”

“Don’t be difficult, Kaspbrak,” Stan groans, “that you’ve been secretly pining for each other for fuckin’ ages?”

“Is that what you shut us in there for?” Richie asked, his voice creeping up an octave because oh, this was delicious.

The five of them answer simultaneously “yes!”

Richie looks down at Eddie, who holds his gaze for all of one second before they dissolve back into shit eating grins.

“God we really gave you guys too much credit.”

“Stop being coy, trashmouth!”

“We’ve literally been dating for three months, holy shit, guys.” Eddie rubs his face like he’s exasperated.

“What?” Ben nearly yells.

“Here we are thinking you dumbfucks finally figured it out–”

“In fairness, Rich, they got halfway there.”

“When the fuck were you planning on telling us?” Stan demands, keeping a hold of Mike’s arm for balance.

Eddie volunteers to explain. “Well, it took a few weeks to kinda… figure stuff out, and we were gonna tell you then but then Rich wondered how long it would take you guys to figure it out on your own–”

“So you guys kept this shit on for three months?”

There's a mixture of confusion and amusement around the room. Richie had been kind of worried that they’d be angry that the two of them had kept this for so long, but upon learning that they’d also been scheming themselves for the past week, Richie feels pretty fuckin justified now.

Eddie gives his best ‘are you fucking joking’ face, “you guys never said anything! And as much as we wanted to just get over with, it was so fucking funny to see how much shit you guys would let us get away with.”

“Such as?”

“The fact that you, Beverly, bought “I needed a shirt after my ‘walk of shame’” as a reasonable excuse as to why I was standing in Richie’s kitchen, wearing one of his dumb band tees, absolutely covered in hickeys.”

The other four turned to look at Bev, who pursed her lips and mumbled, “understandable,” as Stan whisper yelled “how the fuck did you miss that?”

“Stan you literally walked in on us mid makeout!”

“What? When?” He demands.

“You burst into my flat, mid-rant…”

There’s a good five minutes of the two of them listing all the times there beautiful, supportive, oblivious as all fuck friends had missed what was so clearly in front of them. The energy shifted into something warm and jovial.

“So,” Richie takes Eddie’s hand, “which one of you started this.”

Everyone answers “Ben.”

Eddie grins up at him, and Richie swears he’ll die right there, “told ya so.”

[hopesong7]

LENS Ch.2

Summary: Sometimes, the universe aligns, and you make friends with a stranger. Sometimes, that stranger is actually multiple people and life just got a bit more interesting.

Genre(s): Fluff, Comedy, lil bit of Angst (Maybe)

Contains: Things that make me feel fuzzy, photography, social media, things I know nothing about but have googled extensively, and the power of friendship.

Word Count: 1369

Note: Finally starting the interaction with the boys! Starting with Tae, because we stan smol crackheads who like art, okay. Also, it just kinda worked out like that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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

Coffee had been the right choice.

You felt for the poor guy in front of you, honestly. While the Barista spoke Japanese and a bit of English, he apparently spoke neither. He did speak Korean though, judging by the muffled commentary he was providing alongside his charades. You could work with that. 

“Excuse me,” You greeted the pair, the english rolling of accented but understandable. You turned to the boy, “Hello, my name is ______. I can translate for you, If you would like?” He frantically nodded his head, rambling off his order. You nodded and turned towards the relieved Barista. “He would like a hot chocolate, please. Might I add on an iced coffee?” She nodded and you withdrew your wallet. The boy behind you seemed to realize what you were doing.

“Ah, there’s no need!” You waved him off, grinning behind your facemask. 

“It’s no problem. It would be nice to speak Korean with someone for awhile, if you don’t mind? My friends have left me stranded,” You joked. He nodded, following you to some seats nearby. 

“Thank you,” the boy said, giving you a bow. 

“It’s cool, seriously. What brings you to Tokyo,” You asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Me and my friends are headed to Hong Kong, but we had some stuff to do here first,” he explained. You nodded, laughing a bit at how evasive that answer was. Adjusting your facemask, you watched as he did the same. The two of you made eye-contact, hands frozen over your faces, before dissolving into laughter, the tension dissipating. “Why’d your friends leave you stranded?”

You placed a hand over your heart, “Ah yes, abandoned I tell you.” He snickered, motioning for you to continue. “You see, stranger, we dined in Wonderland and then they left! For an hour, our trio was king. Then Haru left, called away by her bossy boss. Eun-ha just abandoned me for the airport,” You gave a dramatic wail, much quieter than you wanted, but loud enough that a nearby table gave you an odd look. Your new friend seemed amused, choking on air as he curled into himself.

“Ah, I see why they left,” he joked, making you snort. You shook your head, giggling as you thanked the waitress for your drinks. Standing, you grabbed your camera bag, and his head lifted in interest. “You do photography?”

“Yep, and the occasional video. Photography though,” You gave a sage nod. He hurried out the door after you.

“Have you been doing it long?”

You shrugged, “I guess, yeah? I only started doing it professionally a few years ago. Always loved taking photos though.” You watched as he eyed your camera. “I’m going to take a few photos tonight - night photography is the bomb - if you want to join?” He nodded eagerly. You tried desperately not to equate his demeanor to that of a puppy, but those eyes were a weapon. 

You lost the battle. 

Spotting a street corner with just the right view, you tugged him over. “Okay,” you muttered, checking your camera over. “Alright, you seem nice, so I’m going to trust you. Please don’t drop my baby, she’s precious.” You nodded as he cradled her with reverence. He seemed a bit awkward, not completely used to the features as he turned it this way and that, but definitely not a newbie. “Take a few photos,” You urged. 

“You don’t even know my name?”

“You don’t know mine either, but if it makes you feel better, I’m ____.” He gave you a blank look. “Please don’t drop my camera,” you added.

“I’m Tae-” He stopped, thinking for a moment. “Just Tae.”

“Okay then, Tae-ssi, if you would kindly point the camera that-a-way,” you instructed. “Now then, have you ever taken photos at night before?”

“No?”

“Sounds like you aren’t sure, so I’ll interpret that as a solid no. Alright, whenever you take a photo during the day, there’s a ton more light, right? So when you take a photo, the shutter speed on your camera is like, fractions of a second. There’s so much light, the camera doesn’t need lots of exposure time. Like how we see better in the day, make sense?” He nodded, brows furrowed as he watched you fiddle with the camera. “So, when you take a photo at night, your camera needs longer to pick up the light, so to speak. More exposure time, which means instead of super fast photos, it takes a bit longer. It’s not too hard to deal with when you get used to it, but,” You finished adjusting the tripod, “If the camera moves, the photo becomes blurry. Hence, our friend the tripod.” You guided him, helping him set up the camera. 

“It’s like when our eyes adjust to the dark,” He clarified. 

You nodded, “Exactly.” He danced around the camera, eyes sparkling, and you grinned. It was always nice seeing someone appreciate something they loved. The fact that it was something you also adored was a bonus. “Alright, you’re obviously pretty into photography,” You stated, grabbing his attention. “You ever consider doing something about that? I’m not saying professionally,” you cut him off, having heard the intake of breath, “but as a hobby or something.”

“I guess? I’m pretty busy, but it's really cool.” The longing look he gave your camera spoke for itself. 

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my Instagram and if you have any questions, you can message me.” 

“Really?”

 You shrugged, “Why not?”

“Thank you- Ah, what do I call you? I was born in ‘95.”

“I’m your Noona then,” You cheered. “1994 for the win!”

Tae bowed low, “Thank you, Noona!” You flushed, flapping your hands. You weren’t sure, not with your facemasks still on, but you had a feeling you were on the receiving end of a particularly cheeky grin. Speaking of facemasks, with your hands no longer full, you lowered yours to take a sip of your coffee. You regretted getting iced, feeling shivers wrack your spine. 

“Aish, I should have gotten hot chocolate like you,” you huffed, cheeks puffed up in a pout. Tae took that moment to look back up from the camera, freezing when he saw your face. “What?” You wiped your lips self-consciously, “Is there something on my face?” 

“What’d you say your Instagram was, Noona?” 

“Oh yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. Maybe you shouldn’t mention that you were distracted by his cheeky demeanor? “It’s _____Byeol.” He seemed to redden quickly, and you watched in fascination as his ears turned pink and then a glowing red. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I just, wow! I follow your Instagram already,” he exclaimed. “Your photos are so-” He gestured wildly, excitement dancing in his eyes.

You grinned, “Really! That’s so cool! Wait, what’s yours? I can follow you back!” The deer-in-headlights look was back, you noticed with amusement.

“It’s, uh, it’s a secret?” You raised an eyebrow. “btsofficial,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s BTS Official,” He repeated sheepishly. You watched as he lowered his face mask, a boxy smile on his face.

“BTS Official?” He nodded. You bit your lip, BTS, BTS… Where had you heard that? You snapped your fingers, “You guys did that one song, Dope, right?” The song had been popping up on your recommended for a while before you caved. “It’s pretty good! House of Cards is more my vibe, but yeah, I know you guys.” You shot him a smile, watching as his shoulders sunk in relief. You could understand why he had hesitated to introduce himself, being an idol and all. “Wait, you aren’t going to get in trouble for hanging out with me, right?”

“Um, No?”

“Your bandmates know where you are?” His blank stare was all the answer you needed, making you chuckle. “Text them, let them know you're alive! Your poor Hyungs,” you chastised mockingly. He fumbled with his phone, fingers tapping at the speed of sound. You watched as it began to vibrate in his hand, Taehyung shooting you a look of wide-eyed panic. With a sigh, you grabbed his phone, catching sight of the contact name before you answered.

“Wai-”

You smirked mischievously, “Hello, is this the, uh, God of Destruction?”

[rylbanks]

dat’s my bread ( bankstan )

What: Chance meeting with all the flirts Where: Grocery store When: pre-brunch Who: ebanks and Seb Stan

@thissebstan

It had been almost two weeks since she'd last gone grocery shopping, and the morning after her wine and cheese night with Jane Fonda, Liz was sporting quite the hangover but, she knew that she needed the essentials for the get-together she was throwing later that evening; a few of the Pitch Perfect gals were in the area, so she'd invited them over. Treading the aisles of the Whole Foods or whatever store she'd happened upon, Elizabeth absent-mindedly picked up and replaced things from shelves before rounding into the baked goods: bagels for Max, donuts as a treat for the boys, baguettes for her soiree. In the midst of checking her cell phone (some directorial responsibilities or another talk show opportunity), she palmed around blindly for the baguettes she knew were in her peripheral. It wasn't until she glanced and saw the final one being scooped up that she tore her attention from the cellphone in her hand and huffed, "Well, no bruschetta for me."

Usually, Sebastian wasn't such a slob, but after jetlag had started to kick his ass, he hadn't felt like dressing up properly, and gone out in a tee and sweats to get some milk and bread for his still quite empty fridge. No, that wasn't true, it wasn't empty, it just didn't have anything with carbs in it, which was what he craved right now. Toasted baguette pieces with salted butter, actually - and with this thought in mind, he had walked to the nearest shop and headed right to the fresh baked goods, stepping right around a small blonde and reaching for the last baguette on the rack. Her voice stopped him in his tracks, as he was retreated in an he turned around with a somewhat sheepish look on his face. "I didn't know you were gunning for it," he told her, "it seemed that you were engrossed in your phone instead, but -" Sebastian guessed his craving could wait, and held out the baguette to her, realising too late that he would hit her in the nose with it. "Oops, sorry!"

"Typically, I'd say you missed and need to work on your aim but, I'll let it slide." She smirked. Liz, when presented with the opportunity, could turn anything into an innuendo. She eyed the contents he was carrying and allowed one of her brows to rise questioningly, "Big party you're throwing, I take it...?" Elizabeth just couldn't help herself, as she reached up to grab the other end of the baguette, and move it away from her face as she used her other hand to pack away her cell phone while she made small talk with Sebastian. The blonde made light work of waving away his comment, "Today, I'm all business. Production companies don't run themselves; not when you've got a hungry husband and business partner at home, waiting on his lox and bagels."

The reply both surprised and amused him to no end and he raised an eyebrow at the tiny, fierce woman in front of him. There was an nuance in her voice that had him try and give back as good as he had gotten. „Trust me, when I say that if I set real aim on anything, I don’t miss.“ It was all too easy to reply to her, and the next thing he found himself doing was grinning like an idiot, because if he looked at his own shopping, it was pretty meagre and miserable. „Long night, somewhat of a special craving... I need a day off, for once, and these things -" He jiggled his shopping in his hands and gave a small, non-plussed shrug. „But you should know about throwing a big party, don’t you?“ The baguette poked the doughnuts lightly. „And that business partner couldn’t get his own ass down to the shops to get his New York style bagel? Men these days...“ Laughing, he shook his head. „Do you want the baguette or not? If I keep waving it in your face, someone might get the wrong idea..."

Seeing her reaction mirrored on his face, Liz smirked and shook her head, apparently she'd met her match. Her fingers dipped down to the RESIST chain around her neck, and fiddled with the jagged edges of the letters while she thought up a retort to his comment, her other hand now resting on the bar of the shopping cart. She nodded, "I bet you don't. I mean, it's big enough, I'm sure, right?" She deadpanned before she then added, "You can wave it in my face all you want. Just be glad it's not a cucumber, then there'd be talk..." Elizabeth chortled, slapping her hand on the push bar of the cart a few times before she set her fingers drumming there. She cleared her throat, "He's gotta keep the house under control while I'm not there. He's being mom while I'm out being mom."

Eyebrows shooting up, when his gaze slipped to where he fingers were pointing to, Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle. This woman really came prepared! But it was her retort that had him snap his eyes back to her and stare a little dumbfoundedly. Snark and banter this early in the morning? He might just propose on the spot, but then again, he knew she was married, and dropping to his knee would just make things awkward. In the end, he opted for a nonchalant shrug - he would let her in the dark about what he thought of it. “Why does a baguette get more slack than cucumber? What did the poor cucumber ever do to you that you don’t like it so? Was it not satisfactory for you?” Unfortunately, the cucumbers were down the aisle, or he might have picked one up to give her a pep talk about it. “Not sure any man can ever be mom, they’ll be dad and your kids will look at you happily, when you return. But what’s up with the rest of the food? You don’t need that much to make a bagel.”

Liz couldn't but chortle at the retort Sebastian came up with. Sure, it was still technically the morning and they were in a public venue but, she had half expected his rebuttal to be something equally as snarky as hers had been. She loved keeping up with someone who could banter as much as the next person, and he was certainly more than the next person, she pondered, thinking for a moment about how she should reply before it just came out, "Well, when we say we like 'em big, we're not lying but, baguettes have so much that goes to waste. Cucumbers on the other hand..." She trailed off, smirking up at him with a knowing glint in her eyes, as she flicked them back and forth between his. Elizabeth gave one of her deep, from the belly laughs, and tilted her head back slightly before she answered, "It was definitely pushing past satisfactory." After a moment, Elizabeth then nodded, "Well, it is modern America. Guys can be just as great as women. My boys know how important it is that they can support their mama and any other females they happen across. They've been raised well, so far." And, almost as an afterthought, she continued, "Well, I'm throwing a little gathering, if you're not busy, you could stop by."

Sebastian couldn’t help but make a face - with his mind so prone to going right into the gutter, it wasn’t all too difficult to go there, but trying to imagine any woman, any person really, using a baguette... he scrunched up his face. „The baguette has length and girth, but the rough edges on top might make for a very painful experience. So, you shouldn’t hate on the cucumber, but appreciate it more.“ Elizabeth’s smirk had him reply in kind, and raise an eyebrow in quiet challenge, just to see what would happen now. She seemed to be one of those people who could take someone’s comment and spin it in whichever direction she was inclined to go right now. And he liked being surprised. „Addictive, then?“ Sebastian asked playfully, her comment leaving him chuckling and biting his lower lip as to not laugh too loudly. It was an interesting morning encounter so far, and her talking so freely and passionately about her husband, as if the previous bit of conversation hadn’t happened, had him appreciate her with silent respect. „With a mother like theirs I don’t doubt it for a second.“ Just like Elizabeth, mother had done everything in her power to teach him that women were amazing, and had special skill sets on top of the normal human ones - and that he should help out whenever he happened across a woman in need. No matter what that „need“ looked like. „Is that a family gathering? I wouldn’t want to intrude.“ And he really didn’t, he would be just as happy with his baguette and salted butter, and some quiet moments in the sun today. Although she did intrigue him a lot, and he was leaning towards giving up his quiet morning to figure her out some more.

The blonde quirked her brow at his seemingly back-handed comment but, she laughed all the same, “You’re not wrong.” She agreed with him and eyed the baguette. Elizabeth didn’t need to be told twice, “You know how many people have asked me about sex, making a porno and fucking Seth Rogen...?” She wasn’t really prepared to answer, given that she’d been asked more than a handful of times. Given that she was a massive flirt, and self proclaimed lover of hot dudes, the general public had built up an opinion of her which she neither agreed nor disagreed with. It was all part of the fun, and for some part, the reason she was cast in specific roles. Liz shook her head and smiled, “Family but, not actual family. A few of the Pitch Perfect girls are in the area, I invited them over. I’m sure you could entertain and slot right in with your cucumber or baguette...” She left her comment hanging, a definite source of amusement, if Sebastian saw the opportunity to take it further, “I mean, I’m not about the forced life but, the offer’s open, if you want in.”

„Nevertheless, it has other uses, and we should appreciate the taste and the feeling it leaves behind, once we ate it.“ Genuine joy was woven into his voice, mostly, because he didn’t get to eat bread, or any kind of carbohydrates, very often - it was a treat he was looking forward to. „Why would they...“ It was then that he realised where he had seen her before she had moved to town, and shook his head at himself and his own stupidity. Of course! „Honestly, even if you made a film about it, it hardly makes you a pro - I wield knives and fight aliens in the latest films I did... I’d probably be shit at that in real life. Also, fucking Seth Rogen? Who even wants to know that?“ Sebastian made a comical face and chuckled. Seth was a good guy, and a good sport, not to mention a great actor, so it was mostly ribbing, and not his real opinion. „That sounds like a nice group to have - chosen families are the best.“ But how could he intrude in that? „Entertain, hm? Please don’t expect me to whip it right out,“ he laughed, „but I could share my baguette with you girls, if you’d still like? I’d even toss in a cucumber or two. Everyone likes them differently.“ His grin widened. „As long as you don’t have me for dinner... well, as dinner - when should I be there?"

"Oh, you don't say? What would those other uses be?" Elizabeth punctuated her statement, going even as far to use the air-bunny quotations. She was highly amused at Sebastian and his comments before she continued, "Yeah, certain things just leave aftertastes, it can be a bit weird." She turned, scouting for the fresh fruit and produce aisle before she flicked her gaze back to him and smirked, "I'm looking to make cobbler, do you peaches also leave an aftertaste...?" The blonde could carry on her teasing and innuendos for as long as she needed or wanted to but, knew she would be bound by time constraints of her impending brunch with the gals. Liz took a moment, analyzing Sebastian's comment before she nodded, flicking her brows slightly in recognition, "I'll give you that. There's no way I'm a seasoned pro at those things, and you'd be surprised. I get asked that a lot, actually. I mean, truthfully, I didn't realize how intimate that scene would be." She chortled, waving off her own comment, "Yeah, no. I wouldn't expect that but, sharing would be appreciated. It's a shame we didn't start out talking about cake, I have plenty of jokes I could make about icing..."

“It leaves you satisfied, doesn’t it?” Instead of replying in more detail, Sebastian just grinned at her broadly and raised an eyebrow. Surely, he didn’t need to spell it out for her, did he? Thoroughly amused by her witty comebacks, he followed her to the fruit and vegetable section, picking up a cucumber along the way, because - why not? “I’m never quite sure what to make of aftertastes - does our alimentation really have that much of a lasting effect on us?” Smirking right back, he pretended to think about it for a moment, before replying with a cheeky, “I think we should try and find out. Perhaps they do and they’ll become the new pineapple. Since it’s used as a butt emoji, let’s hope it doesn’t leave you tasting like one...” On a good cheat day like today, he would never say no to a good peach cobbler, or any kind of treat - and she seemed like someone who could make a very tasty one. Plus, now that he knew how good she was with innuendoes, he wanted to push and prod some more. “Does Seth get asked the same question? Otherwise it’s just sensationalist shit some people like to get off on.” From his own fans, he knew how inappropriate some questions could be, and how intrusive, and he couldn’t quite imagine what it was like, if you had actually filmed scenes like that. “But, real question, have you ever filmed a sex scene that left you so bothered you needed release afterwards?” Her comment about cake and icing had him snort and shake his head, he could imagine where this was going. “If we could just plan our lives better - that being said, are we talking frosting or a melt here? Or added sprinkles?”

Elizabeth didn't even feel the need to respond to Sebastian's quasi-question, she just smirked and gave a routine shrug, thumbing at the baguette now in her cart. Of course, she'd be the one taking home the 'bacon' so to speak, it's what she came for. As Sebastian lifted the cucumber, she allowed her smirk to broaden, "If you call that a cucumber, I'd start being worried about did in Math class with values and measurements." Liz quietly felt around amongst the peaches, prodding and poking at their fuzzy skins to find the softest, which usually meant juiciest peaches. She exhaled, almost choking on the air, "Is that an offer...?" She almost roared with laughter, "Because, let me tell you, I would happily oblige, husband's out of town..." She gave him an overly animated wink and nudged his arm. The blonde frowned, shaking her head, "Wait, what? I've been using that damn emoji in the wrong way?! I've been using it as, well, ma peach." Elizabeth grabbed a baggy and began tossing the peaches in, careful not to bruise them as she responded to his question, "I don't know, actually. My father-in-law was super uncomfortable watching that scene though. Eh, sometimes I indulge those people, give 'em something to get off to." She nodded, her typical carefree attitude shining through as she all but tossed the peaches into the cart, and chortled to herself, "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" Liz didn't miss a beat, "Yes. Yes, I have." She started along the aisle, glancing back at Sebastian, "Dude, I'm talking plain, old white frosting. Who fucking has time to do melted shit?"

While he might have given up ownership of his baguette, he was still in the best of moods, especially, when it came to teasing his new-found friend. At her raised eyebrow and mocking comment, he placed the smaller exemplary down and picked up a longer, thicker one. “Just be glad you don’t get pickles or gherkins - this one does seem a little more appropriate.” Sebastian was pretty confident about himself and his abilities, the size of a random cucumber would not make a dent in his ego. “If you’re offering, then I don’t see why not?” No one said it had to be her that did the tasting, right? “Although I am rather cautious with taken people. They tend to be more trouble than they might be worth.” With a shrug, he waved the cucumber around and then put it to the rest of his groceries - he wasn’t turning anyone down, he was merely being honest. “These millennials and their double-entendres drive me nuts. Why can’t a peach be a peach? And don’t get me started on the eggplant - if dicks looked that way, I’d be worried, not aroused.” When he heard- things like these, he was glad his mum and stepdad didn’t watch many of his films - some were of a rather graphic nature, he had never shied away from intimate, sexually charged scenes, and he surely wouldn’t start now. “As long as you’re the one setting the rules. You are the one who needs to be comfortable with it all.” Her quip didn’t surprise him, neither did her reply - they had all been there one way or another. “And did you ever follow through?” His grin widened and it felt like it would ultimately split his face, if he kept it up. “Well, it’s all about preference, isn’t it? What kind of icing you like... whether you just have a taste, or take in the whole thing all at once.” Having gathered different experiences with both genders over the years, he knew what he was talking about and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. As they arrived at the check-out, he placed his groceries down to pay for them. “Do you still feel like inviting me over to your girls’ day? I might be a little out of place.”

"I take it gherkins and pickles are a bad thing?" Elizabeth quirked her brow again, noting the expression the check-out assistant gave them, "If it's about size, then I agree. Size does matter... Bananas, pickles, eggplants just don't do it. That's why cucumbers are perfect." She nodded, pulling out her credit card and a random coupon. She watched as the clerk swiped and scanned their items, placing them into the bagging area, "So, you've had an experience with someone who was taken, huh? How'd that work out?" Liz chortled, taking back her credit card, "I can imagine it's uh, not as easy-going with someone who's off the market but, surely the thrill is worth it? But, getting back to that offer, yeah, I am." The blonde stared him down, almost challengingly as she awaited his response and reaction to how bluntly she'd agreed with him. Jokingly, or not. "Come on, man, you gotta keep up with that shit. Apple aren't about to turn around and throw out dick and pussy emojis. They gotta keep it family-friendly and people still gotta sext." She threw her arms up in the air slightly, using one of them to grab at her groceries and haul the tote onto the crook of her elbow, "Maybe you're just looking at them wrong. I mean, the dicks." Elizabeth gave a light shrug before she nodded, "I try to make sure I'm in control as much as possible with things like that. I never want a repeat of my first feature; closed set was a fucking tent in the middle of the warehouse we shot in. Not the best setting for your first sex scene, either. I'm going to go with a resounding yes, who wouldn't want to rub one out after making out Marsden?" Liz let out the most unladylike snort imaginable as she heard Sebastian's comment about 'icing' and she glanced back at him, "Oh, I've been on both sides of that fence but, you've obviously a story to tell there. Did you drive over here?" She tilted her head, fishing for her sunglasses and car keys, "Because, you're going to tell me that tale over mimosas or something else."

Sebastian made a sound of indifference, but then shrugged. „They’re prickly and knobby - plus pickles live in vinegar, don’t they? Shoving that up anywhere else than your mouth sounds…“ He gave a shudder. „Painful. Same with big sizes. Too big, that is.“ The last thing he had expected to happen this morning was a conversation like this, but now, he couldn’t quite imagine not having this conversation with Elizabeth. „How do you think it worked out?“ Sebastian quipped back, and gave her a lopsided smile. „I’m glad her husband never knew who the „culprit“ was, otherwise you might be talking to a ghost now, because he would have hid the corpse.“ That experience had thoroughly put him off taken people, but that offer… his smile widened. „Now, I’ll have to remember that. And yes, the thrill can be incredibly arousing.“ Elizabeth being blunt and open with him fascinated him in a way, and intrigued him, too - and he found himself wanting to know where it was going. „Family-friendly sexting? Is that a thing?“ A chortle passed his lips. He couldn’t quite imagine anyone not understanding what such a text was about. „What’s a pussy emoji? Apart from the obvious kitten, which no one will use, probably.“ Sebastian could see why she would want control in anything she did, and especially, when she was working - and also working on such scenes, too. „A fucking tent? As in a tent for fucking?“ he asked, consciously misinterpreting her words, but then he grew more serious and nodded. „I think we need to be in control in moments like those, otherwise we might do things we don’t really want to, and regret it later.“ Suddenly, Sebastian started snorting. „Not sure he’d do it for me, but go on.“ While talking, they had walked outside to the parking lot, and he had simply followed her until now, since he had walked to the store earlier. But now, he stopped and looked at her. „I am?“ he asked, thoroughly amused, but then followed her to her car. „What do you want to know? No icing-analogies.“ The prospect of alcohol that early in the morning was exciting, but the fact that he would spend more time trading banter with Elizabeth really sealed the deal.

"Since when have bananas been prickly and knobby? I mean, sure, they do a similar job as a knob. Oh, shit, yeah. Pickled pickles shoved in the hoohah wouldn't end well, you're right." She snorted, "No, man, come on. It's all about lube and angles. Obviously, you have not been doing things right." She widened her eyes and gave him a knowing smirk. Collecting her groceries, Liz nodded slowly, "Yeah, I can imagine he would have probably pulverized you. Was it someone in the business? Like, who'd be on your FMK list, K being kill or kiss, your decision. I know who'd be on mine but, it all depends on the day." The blonde glanced back at him and shrugged slightly, "But, like I said, hubby's out of town, if you're down for a few more thrills..." She joked, once again nudging him in the elbow and winking suggestively at him. Elizabeth scoffed, craning her neck at Seb, "Dude, I didn't put those two things together..." She hauled her groceries into the back of her Audi before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Having two young sons was trying but, getting through whatever conversation this was, was a whole other kettle of fish, "The kitty could be one; the taco, the butterfly, the honeypot... is there a beaver emoji?" In her time both in front of and behind the camera, she'd seen some weird things playing out in action, the indie movie she was referencing was definitely the weirdest she'd witnessed, "It actually was, a tent for fucking. There was a mannequin and a bong in the scene with us. It was terrible, almost put me off sex scenes." She nodded before she laughed out loud, opening the driver's side door and climbing in, "But, it's a good thing I'm down for playing the bit parts, usually the gal who ends up making out or banging someone." Elizabeth calmly added, "The man's got a dong for days, I think. I don't know, it definitely wasn't a pack of Certs in his pocket. Marsden and Woody are pretty head-to-head on the making out front." After a moment, Liz brought up one of her more comedic moments, "My favorite co-star though, was a shiny little shower head. That was a time to be alive..." Swinging the car out of the space in the lot, Elizabeth quirked her brow at Sebastian's comment, "Why no on the icing tales?"

What was this conversation? Sebastian continues to laugh, too amused to care about the weirded out looks the customers behind them, or the cashier, were giving them. If they were prudish, that was their problem. “Bananas have a stalk on one side and this hard bit on the other. Can’t imagine that being so much fun. At least they taste better than pickles.” Making a face, he burst out laughing again - his cheeks were starting to hurt, even, a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long while. “I’m not one to kiss - or kill - and tell, but yes, it was. Not so sure they’re still married - perhaps it’s better that they’re not.” Her reply had him stop dead in his tracks and stare at her for a moment - up until now, it had only been a game, a very suggestive and flirty one, but now - did she really mean it? And what was more, would he actually accept that kind of invitation? The nudge he received shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at her. „If you’re up to it…“ there, it was decided, Sebastian would leave it up to Elizabeth - she was the one who was married, after all. He was free as a bird. „You just did,“ he protested cheekily, „and it sounds kinda funny, given that I now imagine you doing it during big family dinners now…“ A large grin remained on his face, mostly because he was teasing her now, and getting the best reactions out of her. „A mannequin and a bong? And you bonged them both?“ He couldn’t help it - she really gave him the best innuendo openings, and the best reactions, too. „I can see each of them, but the beaver… that one is unappealing somehow.“ Sliding into the passenger seat, he placed his groceries on his lap, while he buckled up. „I’m often the eye candy man… I don’t mind much, but it does get tiring sometimes? I’d rather not bang on camera for once.“ Sebastian made a face, but then added with a laugh, „I’d rather go at it behind the scenes. And Marsden? Are you sure he didn’t put a gherkin into his pocket?“ There were some people he had enjoyed making out with in front of the camera more than others, but he had never gone and rated them… especially not inanimate objects. „Wow, poor James and Woody…“ Between laughs, he had to explain his comment a little more. „I just think that we can talk about the real thing, and not use analogies to explain things - unless you do want to talk about baking."

"Okay, okay, you win this round. I'm not about to go shoving bananas, pickles or other phallic objects near my peach." She snorted, unable to help herself, "I really can't look at bananas in the same way, probably since like, high school. Damn sex-ed classes." Liz nodded, punching it out of the parking lot and hitting a red light almost instantly, "Oh, damn Stan, that brooding secrecy got me hot." She smirked, wiggling her shoulders in her typical quasi-hyperactive fashion whenever she got excited about something. After a moment, Elizabeth quirked her brow, lips parted slightly; she had not been expecting him to continue playing the field and almost make it back to home plate -damn her and her sports references- with the turn-around he now posed. She gripped at the wheel, over-extending her arms so one of her elbows popped slightly as she pressed herself back against her headrest, exhaling shakily. Elizabeth eyed him and swallowed lightly, "Oh yeah, try big ass, Jewish family dinners. I'm always sexting between dreidels and Hannukah gelt. It gets mad sexy." She rolled her eyes, returning to her previous tone in the conversation. Liz winced and chortled, "Yeah, I don't want to be reminded of that, it was a fucking weird movie; I'm grateful it helped get me in the running for other things but, shit!" She shook her head, hissing slightly as she relaxed and set off once the lights changed, "I really don't want any of my fans to see that. Oh wait, is it because of the teeth? Are you having major flashbacks to that vagina-bal movie Megan Fox made? The goddamn vag had teeth!" The blonde let out a semi-belly laugh and she nodded, "I hear that! I won't tell him but, it's possible he did! But, I wanna give him the benefit of the doubt, my opinion on micro penises is pretty clear." Flicking her blinker to signal they were turning, Elizabeth shrugged a little, "Woody knows how I feel about him. We just both wanted to make out on The Mockingjay set, we managed to get it in. Not it in me, just to be clear. But, sure, we can handle the topic of icing like two mature adults..." She smirked across at him.

“Who was saying anything about shoving it up your ass?” Sebastian stared at her and chuckled, “bananas are just that - fruit. I don’t think that sex-ed really made a difference. Or did your friends have you suck on one, too, to make a point?” Elizabeth really was one of a kind, he thought, with every tease he gave her, he got one in reply, and with each quip, he received a better one back, too. “Well, I wouldn’t want to give my secrets away all too easily - otherwise you’ll lose interest right away.” Ah, and there it was - the line had been set, and he nodded and shut up, letting her gather her thoughts. It was easy to play, but difficult to follow through with hit all, and perhaps it was better, when they knew where the line actually was. „As long as the gefillte fish doesn’t get you all hot and bothered, I’m fine with that kind of mental imagine, sweetheart. Whatever gets you going, I suppose.“ Sexting wasn’t his style, he liked seeing someone’s reaction to his flirting and teasing, and liked to do something about opportunities, as they turned up. „If that was the weirdest thing you did, you’re good, I think - there are much odder things out there you could have gotten into.“ Elizabeth drove the way she talked, without abandon, or remorse, and Sebastian gripped the sidebar on the door tightly, when she rounded a corner. „Oh, don’t remind me of that one... it almost turned me off women,“ he laughed, and shook his head - of course it hadn’t, but vaginas with teeth had followed him into his sleep for a while. „What is your opinion on micropenises? You cannot leave me, or them, hanging now.“ Woody was a great guy in his eyes, and their friendship had seemed a little odd looking in from the outside, but getting to know her now he realised just why they were the way they were. It was funny how such polar opposites could be so great together. „I get what you mean, don’t worry - as for icing, sperm, juices, whatever you want to want to call it, I do think that there are preferences, and you should try out what you like, and avoid what you hate.“ Again, he shrugged - the topic wasn’t new to him, nor was it something disagreeable, so he was curious as to what she would do about it.

"I definitely wasn't talking about shoving anything in my ass. By peach, I meant my *peach*..." Elizabeth smirked, briefly gesturing to her crotch with her thumb, "Not really, I was a goody-two-shoes at school, and into college. You probably wouldn't think I was the same person. But, to answer that banana question, I have sucked one or two in my time." The blonde  shook her head, "There is absolutely no way I'd lose interest, I'll pry those secrets out of you somehow; whether it's through your stomach or literally sucking it out of you." She beamed, a sweetly devilish smile, one that displayed an entirely put together lady while bubbling under the shiny veneer was something altogether crude. Elizabeth whistled and chuckled, "That's exactly the ticket the gets me going. That and matzah. And a few other things, non-Jew stuff." She flipped her shoulder nonchalantly. Elizabeth wasn't sure what could qualify as weird shit but, she'd done her fair share of 'weird' or mildly inappropriate stuff, "There was that time I got off with a shower head in a tub full of bubbles for Steve Carrel. He's no America's ass but, he's good fun." She smirked and glanced sideways to Sebastian when she brought up Chris Evans. Liz made a strangled sound as she heard Sebastian's query about micro penises, "Do they even hang...?" She asked incredulously, "I didn't think there'd be enough to dangle." After a brief pause, she responded to his question, rounding another corner, "I mean, it's better to not have one. Size matters, right?" Pulling onto a miniature spruce lined driveway, Elizabeth smiled and nodded, "I agree, sometimes it's pretty hard to stay away from you hate, though. That shit gets everywhere, as you probably know."

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up, and he gave a little sound of confusion. "We either need to stop using fruit metaphors, or relying on what millenials think emojis mean nowadays," he finally said, and shook his head, albeit with a small smile. "We all evolve at some point... no one is just born this way in all aspects of life." All that fruit talk made him want to actually have all the fruits, real fruits, and his stomach growled a little at the thought. "I'm not sure you'll be able to -" Although he did raise his eyebrows at the sucking part. It was funny how much of a dichotomy she was, full of contrasts, and yet, they all fit her quite well. Elizabeth, most of all, seemed entirely comfortable in her own skin, and she looked the part, too. "What kin dof other things?" he asked, suddenly curious. "Wait, Steve Carrell?" Now there was a name he hadn't associated with her, or with anything remotely sexual. He had done the forty year virgin thing, after all, hadn't he? At the mention of Chris's arse, he gave a little shrug - perhaps he'll discuss that one day, but definitely not now. "Perhaps they do, depends on how big the micro is, I suppose? Also, to look at the other extreme, having a dangling dick might really hurt at some point. Chafe, too." Sebastian was somewhere in between, and happy with what he had - to him, it didn't only matter how well hung one was, but what they could do with it. There was skill and then there was art, after all, in anything, even getting someone else off. Looking up, he realised they had arrived, and relaxed against the seat. "Size matters to some degree, skill matters more. And if you hate something enough, you'll stay away from it easily - you just don't want it." He shrugged. "Is that your home? It's pretty." Now, he was truly curious about her girls' day.

FIN

[softuris]

wanderlust || part 3

stanley uris x reader * ✩‧₊˚

part1 + part2

—————

masterlist... (-)

request here... (-)

IT prompts... (-)

—————

—————

Waking up was never pleasent. Especially when it was to unsoliciated noises like a knock on the door. Or in this case... A certain Trashmouth.

“Could you have tossed any fucking more in your sleep Billiam?!” Richie shouted, making you open your eyes groggily, possibly ready to swing some fists.

“Like you are a-any better! You’re wa-ay too clingy when you’re a-a-asleep!” Bill shouted back. You sat up from your spot in bed besides a still sleeping Beverly. You’re laugh knowingly; She’s probably used to this by now.

“I-I kind of like it,” a flushed Eddie interjects. Bill and Richie silently turned their heads to look at the small boy still curled on their bed the trio shared last night.

The silence is broken by the bathroom door swinging open. Stanley Uris entered the bedroom already dressed for the road ahead. A toothbrush in his hand and brushing away at his teeth. Though he was feet away, you could smell his freshly sprayed cologne. Or was that just the lingering smell of it on his sweatshirt that you still had on? Oh gods, were you still wearing this?

You clench the fabric of his sweatshirt in your hands embaressed, with your head hung low. From the corner of your eye, you could see Stan was looking at you. “Did you want your sweatshirt back? I-I didn’t think i’d actually-“

Stan stopped you mid sentence by putting a single finger up, a disappearing back into the bathroom. The sound of running water followed. He waltz back around the corner, tucking his shirt into his jeans, in the process. You watched him and time seemed to slow down. To you, Stan made everything look hot.

You bit your lip, and Stan looked back up. “D-did you want my, I mean YOUR, uh sweatshirt back?”

Stan shifted his weight on his feet, staring at his shoes before looking back up to meet your anxious gaze. The rest of the Losers were having a quite loud conversation, only feet away. However the only words that seemed to register completely in your brain were Stan’s when he said, “We never finished talking last night.”

You swallowed hard. “So you don’t want this back?” you asked tugging on the collar of the sweatshirt, confused.

Stan chuckled and sat down beside on the bed. Though you were still comfortabley seated under the covers, you could feel his leg against yours above the covers. At the thought of your legs touching heat rushed through your body.

“What I want, is for us to finish talking. Plus you make this old thing look like Gucci!” Stan says smiling with his teeth, his ears rising a bit as his lips curled. Well shit, now you weren’t sure you were breathing.

You shrugged. You wished you could’ve keep your eyes on Stan’s, but his gaze made you feel like putty. Fiddling with the hem of the sweatshirt you nodded finally. “I guess we should finish our little talk,” you finally smiled back.

Suddenly, someone was shouting. “Was that REALLY necessary!” Richie shouted at a giggling Eddie, who then quickly changed his expression to a pouty face. Batting his eyes, you noticed Richie become like putty, just as you did under Stan’s gaze. “It’s fine. I uhh- I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” Richie had been standing on top of the mattress, and jumped down to the ground level to grab Eddie’s arm comfortingly.

Mike cleared his throat and slapped his hands together. “Alright! I’m hungry! Who’s down for some complimentary breakfast?” He grinned, rubbing his hands together.

-

You were able to change out of your pajamas, but Stan’s sweatshirt remained. Was it because he said you made it look like Gucci?

Possibly.

Regardless you trotted down the halls of the hotel beside your friends; Everyone was incredibley anxious to eat and get back on the road. You had heard Bill mention something to Beverly about Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Was that your next stop? Upon arriving at the hotel’s small banquet hall, Bill rushed to the tables of bagels and sausage rolls, closely followed by an eager Richie and Mike.

You watched as Stan gathered fruits and eggs onto his plate, barely watching where you were placing food on your own plate. You sat at a table for four, and to your suprise, the drozy golden boy joined you. “Did you want a coffee or something? You look pretty zonked,” you said trying to casually fish for food around your plate.

Stan chuckled and shut his eyes. “I don’t do well in hotels,” he admitted, opening his eyes and they seemed brighter. You nodded your head.

“I get that,” you spoke softly, taking a sip if juice from your styrofoam cup, “Hotels are the worst.”

Stan chased his ‘meal’ around his plate with his fork silently. You had no clue what he meant when he had said he wanted to finish the conversation, earlier. Last thing you remember is almost kissing Stan, and having your best friends walk in on it. Thinking about the moment gave you butterflies.

You shifted awkwardly in your seat. What were you supposed to say?

Fortunately, he spoke first.

“Are you thinking about last night, too?”

I am done for, you thought. I’ve died.

Play it cool. Play it cool.

“Last night?” you asked, and Stan blinked.

Now Stan was the one shifted awkwardly in his chair, and you couldn’t help but hope he was feeling the butterflies too. “Nevermind I guess.” Stan had finished his food at this point, and sat looking around with his hands folded neatly in front of him on the table. You tried to finish your food, but it felt like your heart was climbing it’s way up your throat; It was hard to keep food down.

Your skin burned with Stan’s eyes glued on you every once and awhile. Though his glances were occasional, it still left you praying you there wasn’t sweat forming on your forehead.

“Stanley come here!” Mike shouted from another table. Stan unfolded his hands and spun to look at the group.

“Y-yes?”

“How do I turn off my phone’s air drop? Richie won’t stop sending me memes,” he sighed, a defeated look on his face.

Typical Richie.

“Alright, I’ll be right there I guess,” Stanley sighed in return. Turning back to you, he reached out to hold on to the tips of your fingers you had let drag back and forth against the lamenant table. His sudden touch brought heat to your cheeks. “Sit next to me in the van, alright?” he nodded, and you returned his soft words with a nod and smile.

-

The van ride was comfortable. The Losers sat in the seats they arrived in; Ben, Bev, and Richie in the back, Eddie to your left, Stan to your right, Mike in the passenger’s seat, and Bill was the driver.

You were still wearing Stan’s hoodie. The comments you had recieved were from Stan himself, but they were always compliments. The smell of his cologne still lingered on the fabric near your neck, causing you to involuntarily catch a wiff now-and-then. Course you didn’t have problem with it, though.

You found yourself leaning in to Stan on most parts during your journey. His warmth felt the closest to home, being hundreds of miles away already. To your surprise, he didn’t seem to mind. I mean, he didn’t mind yesterday so why would it matter now to him? You were overthinking it, and you knew it.

However, you couldn’t help but notice Stan also leaning into you. His arm laid back atop the seat behind you made him look casual, and especially attractive in your eyes. It was hard go keep your eyes off of him, or the strong arm behind you that almost reached to Eddie. You were wide awake.

Everyone was singing to something on the radio, you didn’t recognize until Mike turned it up. Forever Young, by Alphaville. A favorite of the Loser’s Club. You looked over to Stan, a big smile spread across his features. You took in moment, as Beverly, Ben, Richie, and Eddie all collectively shouted the lyrics as dramatically as they could. Nothing felt more right then being in this van, with these people, next to your cute bestfriend.

Forever young

I want to be forever young

You looked to your friends around you as they continued to sing. Their eyes shut tight as they spewed the lyrics as theatrically as possible to one another.

I do, you thought. I want,,, this to last forever.

With a warm heart, leaving you as loving as ever, you leaned all the way into Stanley’s side, leaning a head on his shoulder. Without a single word, Stan leaned his head down against yours.

Do you really want to live forever,

Forever, and ever

You couldn’t help but pop a smile as you caught yourself singing along! Bill was now singing along with Mike. The only one not singing was. Well. It was Stan. You knew he was smiling, with his cheeks rosey and eyes half-lidded. You looked up at him hoping to catch his eyes only for a second, possibly to will him into singing along.

He looked down at you, his soft smile deepening. Your heart had started beating a mile a minute. You continued to sing sweetly, hoping he’d get the message, praying he’d get the message. You wanted nothing more than for Stan to revel in the moment with the rest of you. Even if it was just a bit of humming, you’d be satisfied.

He didn’t avert his eyes upon seeing you had yours on him, infact, he gazed back at you. His adoring expression had you so relaxed. So at home. When Stan began singing, you felt his arm hook around your shoulders, to pull you closer to him. Though he looked away from you to look at your surrounding friends, the rattle of his singing rung throughout his body, and the vibrations gave you comfort.

Stan was singing. You’ve never felt so alive.

Forever Young.

I want to be forever young.

-

The group had made it to Harrisburg Pennsylvania. You prayed Bill would be in a better mood than he was last night. However you understood the grumpiness after driving for 12 hours. “Come help with b-bags please,” Bill ordered to everyone.

Of course everyone listened to Bill. He was the reason we were able to go on this journey. Everyone had their liscenses, cars, all of that, but Bill was the only one with access to a large vehicle. The maroon Ford Windstar. The group carried bags and coolers into their hotel room, single file, staying eerily quiet.

“So,” Beverly began, setting her bag on one of the queen beds, possibly claiming it, “My aunt gave me a little departing present.”

Mike plopped the cooler down by the mini fridge and began unpacking soda cans. Richie lugged his and Eddie’s bag in while Eddie helped Bill with his two bags. Ben patiently took a seat at an arm chair and placed his bag down.

You stood awkwardly, looking to Stan at what to do, or more importantly where to sleep. You didn’t think I’d be fair to sleep in a queen two nights in a row. You decided to wait for others to make their claim. Stan toed off his sneakers and sat slowly on the side of the bed opposite to Beverly. Everyone was seated somewhere. You decided to take a seat in one of the arm chairs beside Ben, who gave you a warm smile.

Eddie sat beside Mike, handing him cans to put in the fridge. Richie toed off his own shoes before sitting criss cross atop the bed beside Beverly. Bill sat on the floor between the two beds, his eyes glued shut from exhaustion.

“What was the gift?” A absentminded Eddie asked, handing Mike a Sprite to put into the fridge.

Richie straightened his back, excited to hear the answer. Beverly’s Aunt had been the provider of drinks for many of the Loser’s Club’s parties but no one expected her to give Bev some on this roadtrip.

“I got Malibu, Peach Bellini Smirnoff, OH and even Richie’s Fireball,” she snickers, pulling bottles from a plastic bag in her backpack.

“Sweet!” Bill pipes up, rubbing his hands together.

Mike whistles happily. “Good thing we bought solo cups at one of our stops today! What was it... Was it a Quik Trip?” He closed the min fridge, most likely done, and took a seat on the ground beside Bill.

“Well shit! Does it fucking matter!” Richie exclaims, a wide grin across his face.

“Course it doesn’t. Pass me the Smirnoff, Bev,” Eddie chimes, grabbing the package of Solo cups before taking at seat on the bed beside Richie and Beverly. Ben gets up from his seat in the arm chair, and makes a spot between Mike and Bill.

“Toss me a c-cup, would ya Eds?” Bill stuttered, reaching an arm out. Eddie tosses Bill a cup before Richie tugs the whole bag of cups away.

“Make sure everyone gets one, would ya Rich?” Beverly groans. Richie passive aggresively tosses a plastic cup at her, knocking her in the forehead. “Hey!”

You find the will in you to take a seat on the bed beside Stan. You curl your legs under you, and squeel excited by Aunt Marsh’s gift. Stan nudges you with his elbow and gives you a warm smile. Richie chucks another cup from across the room to knock Stanley in the face. Surprisingly unphased, he turns to look at the shit-grinning Trashmouth. “Thanks idiot,” he quipps, the room erupting in giggles.

You lean into him as you laugh, and he wraps an arm around your waist. Looking him in the eye, he looks back at you before pull you closer to his side. “Here,” he speaks low. Handing you a red cup, he rubs the side of his head where the cup impacted him seconds before.

Richie chuckled loudly from across the room before throwing another cup violently in Stan’s direction. “Here! Need another?” The cup spins backwards and slows from catching air. It lands pitifully in Stan’s lap. Ben wheezes of laughter.

“Yeah, actually,” Stan coughs, containing a chuckle. Mike begins pouring his drink, and turns to you, behind him, offering you some. Pouring the drink, you remind yourself to check it isn’t Richie’s Fireball. Why he liked that stuff, you never knew.

“Want this?” you asked Stan, before realizing he already was pouring the other drink in his glass. “Nevermind,” you chuckled.

The night consisted of Bill throwing a deck of cards at Ben, a debate between Eddie and Richie on why bare feet are gross, and ended with Richie tugging the strings on his ukulele, as everyone leaned on each other sleepily. “You getting tired here, kid?” Stan asked, tugging on his sweater you were wearing. “It looks like everyone else is passed out.” You hadn’t noticed you were curled against him, your back now resting against the head board of the bed. His half-lidded eyes looked down at you, his pupils dilated. Looking around at your friends, you realized they had all slunk and curled against each other to sleep; Bill, Ben and Mike still on the floor, and Eddie, Bev, and Richie in the bed opposite of you and Stan.

“I can turn the lights off, if you don’t mind,” you whisper back to him. He smiles at the concern in your voice, not wanting to make them.

“Of course,” he whispers back.

You lean across a pillow and reach to twist the nob of the lamp, the only thing illuminating the hotel room. The warm feeling in your chest leaves you feeling fuzzy. Was it the alcohol or Stan’s hand on your side? You didn’t know and you didn’t care.

“Well I should get to bed,” you whispered to him through the dark, scooting the edge of the bed, before a hand grabs your’s.

“Stan.”

“Stay next to me,” he spoke softly, as if his voice got any louder you’d vanish in his grasp. His gril tightened on your hand.

“Please.” The sound of want in his voice made your chest burn deeper.

“O-of course,” you hesitated before scooting back to his side. Maybe it was cause he was possibly drunk, but regardless,,, you couldn’t bring yourself to take those few extra steps to the arm chair. You curled up beside him, hugging your knees, and leaned into his touch with your back once again against the headboard. He wrapped his arm back around you and sighed softly, blowing the hair by your ear gently. Revelling in the feeling, you smiled against his chest.

Forever young, you thought.

————

part 4?

————

taglist🌈: @eddiesshorts @loverss-clubb -clubb @neibolthoes @juliroseennis @makloveswriting @aizeninlefox @dinos-on-a-space-ship @nel-ida @multi-parker @sleepyquills @ghostlyuris @meoodle @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia @kingsteve-more-like-dadsteve

[stan-is-my-spirit-animal]

What About Us | Stan Uris | Part 5

TW! Rape, it's extremely brief, you don't see anything apart from the word! Don't read if this is a difficult topic for you.

Pearl POV

I was sat on my bed reading, when I heard the front door bang open. Then, I heard big, loud footsteps on their way to my room. I knew exactly who it was, my Dad. He flung my bedroom door open and he came over to me. I tried not to seem scared, he was extremely abusive towards me. My mother just didn't care, and when my Dad's hand came in contact with my face, I flinched violently at the smarting pain.

"You little slut. I saw you and that boy out, last night. I saw you sitting on his treehouse and I saw you kiss. I am ashamed of you. You shouldn't even be here if you're going to fuck a guy, apart from me. You shouldn't have even been born." Dad spat, he unblocked his belt and he.........raped me.

A Few Days Later...

I hadn't been at School since that day. And that was 5 days ago, I'm surprised that Stanley hasn't come and knocked on my front door yet. He probably has, but my parents have said he can't see me. I dragged my feet into the bathroom and punched the mirror while I screamed and cried. I reached for the scissors next to me and started cutting off my hair. 

Stanley loved my hair, it was so long that if I wore it down, I would be able to sit on it. But, now I was cutting it, because of my father. I cut and cut and cut while I cried. I didn't stop crying, and I only cried harder when I looked in the mirror and saw my new haircut. 

I feel dirty, well now I am dirty. My father took what was supposed to be special to me, what I was supposed to experience with Stanley. 

Everything that he said is true. I'm a slut, and I shouldn't have even been born. I am ugly and gross, I don't deserve Stanley. 

The Next Day

I slowly got ready for School while I cried. When I stepped outside my house, I started walking past Stanley's house, not even bothering to wait for him so we could walk to school together. I was only a few minutes down the road, when I heard voices behind me. I stopped and realised that they were hot on my heels and it was the losers. 

"Pearl?" They all gasped in unison, I shrugged. 

"Yeah?" I asked, fiddling with my fingers. 

"You cut your hair off?!" Stanley was completely shocked, I knew he wouldn't like the new me. 

"Stan-" I tried to calm him down, but he interrupted me. 

"I thought you were too sick to come outside! That's what your parents told me!" Stanley yelled, completely and utterly angry. 

"Stanley I-" He literally wouldn't let me speak. 

"Did Bowers get to you or something?" Stan questioned, tears were clouding over my vision as I remembered what my Father did to me. 

"I can't tell you." I whispered, only just loud enough for Stan to hear. 

"Don't you love me?" His voice cracked as he asked me that question. My mouth dropped, appalled at his words. 

"How could you ask me that?! Of course, I love you! You really want to know why I did this to myself?!" I screamed, while I cried harder and harder by the second. "I DID THIS BECAUSE MY FATHER DID SOMETHING TO ME! HE TOOK SOMETHING FROM ME THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SPECIAL! SOMETHING THAT I COULD'VE EXPERIENCED WITH YOU!"

I broke down right then and there, falling to my knees with emotional agonising pain. The sobs crackling out of my mouth as if knives were stabbing into my back, profusely. Never stopping for me to breathe, always hurting my heart with agonising images from what happened the other day. I couldn't stop sobbing, even though I tried to take multiple breaths, it felt like I was trapped inside my head, unable to get out of the darkness that was hanging over my head. 

"Hey, Hey. Come here. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Stanley pulled me into his arms as the other losers watched in shock as I just continued crying. 

"We're going to my house, there's no school for you today." Stan commented, helping me stand up as we walked back to his house with the other losers. When we got back there, Stan got me settled down in his bed.

[reddie-steady-go]

119 Reddie

I am soooo so sorry this took me ages to get out! It’s kind of long, and also I kind of messed it up and it’s a tad cruddy, but I had fun writing it nonetheless and I REALLY hope you enjoy it! I really love the idea of Richie not being able to keep anything secret from Eddie, so that’s what I went with for this. Also I love the idea of Richie calling Eddie “your highness” and will take literally any opportunity to make that happen so that is a thing here too. Thank you so much for the request I love getting them!!!

@reddie-to-go, @thecastlebyers tagged, as requested! If you would like to be tagged let me know I would be more than happy to arrange it!!

#119: “Stop ignoring me”

Eddie’s eyesnarrowed, fixed thoughtfully on Richie through the library window. The curlyheaded boy sat within, laughing as Beverly extended her middle finger to him,no doubt a response to one of Richie’sjokes. The corners of Eddie’s mouthpulled unconsciously upwards into a delicate smirk. Richie had a penchant formaking the worst jokes in existence. Eddie had a penchant for always laughing. Buttoday, Eddie wasn’t laughing, and Richie wasn’t joking; not to him, at least.

“Hi Eddie,” Stan materialised beside him. Eddiejolted, the suddenness of Stan’s voicescattering his thoughts like leaves in a strong breeze. “You look worried. Well, more than usual,” He smiled dryly beside Eddie, hiseyes showing a genuine concern.

“Hmm? Oh yeah I’m fine,” Eddiesighed. Stan raised an eyebrow and gave him a sidelong glance, obviouslyunconvinced.

“You sure?” Stan waited, crossing his armsexpectantly. Eddie shifted his eyes downward. He wasn’t fooling anybody.

“I think Richie might beignoring me,” Eddie’s brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“What makes you say that?” Stan’s eyesflashed briefly with something before returning to a curious shine. It was onlya second, but Eddie still caught it. It looked like, knowing? Understanding?Understanding what? Eddie’s ownconfusion deepened, muddying his thoughts, settling in his mind like a thickfog.

“Well, yesterday everythingseemed normal, but today, he’llbarely even look at me. Let alone talk to me!” Eddiepursed his lips in thought and worry, turning to regard Stan. “But I have no idea why he would beignoring me. And it’s my birthday tomorrow. Iknow I said I didn’t want to do anything, but it’ll still really suck if my boyfriendis ignoring me on my birthday.”

“Maybe he’s just busy, I’m sure everything will be fine,” Stan shrugged nonchalantly and gestured towards thelibrary doors. “Come on, or they’ll be wondering where we are,” Without waiting for a reply, hecontinued forward, stepping through the doors. Eddie lingered for a moment,eyes locked on Richie, before sighing, and following Stan.

“There you guys are. Wethought little Eddie might have gotten lost,” Bevchuckled as the duo approached. Eddie made a sour face at Bev and walked overto an open chair beside Richie, heart pounding. Almost timidly, he reached outto grab Richie’s hand and gave it a squeeze.Richie squeezed back, his larger hand fitting perfectly around Eddies.  Eddie all but cheered, relief flooding throughhim. Maybe he wasn’t being ignored after all.

Eddie’sallowed the din and buzz of his friends wash over him, before turning to Richie.

“Hey, you ready for cookienight?” he said hopefully, eyesfixed on Richie. “I thought we could watch thePrincess Bride,”

“About that Eds,” Richie began. Already Eddie couldfeel disappointment gathering hungrily, waiting to pounce. “I can’t docookie night. I have, er, a lot of homework,” Eddie’s face fell, disappointment and worrycrashing down upon him like waves in a hurricane.

“Oh,” Eddie breathed, his voice rife with dismay. “That’s okay.Next week then.” Eddie fought tears. What didhe mean he couldn’t do cookie night? It wastheir tradition! Every Thursday night they would get together, just the two ofthem, eat cookies, and watch a movie. They never cancelled.

“Hey, Eddie, Actually I waswondering if you could come over this afternoon? I need some help with some,uh, science stuff!” Ben chimed in, lookingalmost worried as his eyes darted between Richie and Eddie.

“Um, okay,” Eddie said slowly. Why would Ben askEddie for help? They weren’t evenin the same class. His eyes narrowed, suddenly aware that all the losers werewatching him intently, hanging onto every moment of silence. “What time?”

“Oh, about 3:45. That shouldwork,” Ben tried, and failed, togrin casually.

Suddenly the bell rang, it’scacophonous cry echoing throughout the library. Ben and the other losers shotup and darted for the door, uttering hasty goodbyes, leaving only Richie andEddie. Richie turned, and began to head for the exit before Eddie stopped him.

“Hey,” Eddie grabbed Richie’s arm,anchoring the boy. “Are you at least going to saygoodbye?”

“Oh, uh, goodbye,” Richie mumbled sheepishly. Eddieregarded him suspiciously.

“Can you stop ignoring me, and tell me what’s goingon?” Eddie asked, his voice taking afrustrated edge, eyeing Richie as if he was about to bolt. He certainly looks like he might, Eddie noted to himself. Richiestood in front of him, almost squirming at Eddie’s gaze.His normally pale cheeks were flushing pink, and his eyes darted around,refusing to meet Eddie’s.

“Nothing’s going on, Eds. And I’m not ignoring you!” Richie tried, his voice heavy withfalse reassurance.

“Really? Because I really feellike you’re ignoring me, you wouldn’t talk to me in English, Ben justasked me to go help him with science when we don’t evenhave the same class or teacher. Andeveryone else is acting really weird,” Eddiestood resolutely, eyes piercing through Richie.

“Pshhh Eddie what are youtalking about? We’re all cool as a cucumber!” Richie winced as he spoke, acutelyaware of the hollowness of his words.

Eddie crossed his arms, a slight furrow creasing his brows. “You just called me Eddie,” He said matter-of-factly. “You never call me Eddie,”

“I uh, have to go,” Richie whirled around, his cheeks ablazing crimson, beelining for the door before Eddie could stop him. Eddiestarted to protest before stomping off behind him, a frustrated huff escapinghis lips.

-–-

Eddie’sfrustration stuck with him for the rest of the day, swirling around him,gnawing at the back of his mind. It wasn’t justRichie now. All of the losers were acting strange. Eddie didn’t like it. Not one bit. Stepping uponto the Hanscomb porch, Eddie rapped on the door, resolving to interrogateBen. A few seconds of silence passed before Ben appeared, pulling open the doorand grinning like a madman.

“Hey there Eddie!” Ben seemed far too cheery forscience homework. Eddie felt again the confusion as it began to once againentrap his thoughts. He stepped forward, realising as he entered the home thatall of the lights were off. He knelt down and fiddled with the laces of hisshoes before pulling them off and tossing them beside the door. He straightenedhimself and peered at Ben, his eyes struggling in the dark.

“Can we turn on some lights?And I wanted to ask –” Thelights flashed on suddenly, blinding and garish.

“SURPRISE!!!” The cry came from six voices,jolting Eddie, who let out a small yelp. He felt something touch his head, andrealised he was surrounded by balloons, the colourful orbs floating lazily tothe ground around him. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light,Richie saw that streamers of nearly every colour hung from the ceiling andsnaked around the banisters. In front of him stood all six losers, crowding thedoorway into the sitting room, each and every one wearing conical birthday hatsand wide grins. Bev laughed at Eddie’sutterly stunned expression, and Ben giggled as he forced a cardboard crown ontohis head.

“Happy early birthday,Spagheds!” Richie elbowed his waythrough his friends and approached Eddie, wrapping his arms tightly around him.Eddie savoured the contact for the brief second that he could before five otherbodies crashed into them, enveloping him in a tangle of limbs. Eddie finallyescaped the pile, his crown tilted comedically on the side of his head.

“This way to the party, yourhighness,” Richie bowed low and tookEddie’s hand in his, bringing it upto press a kiss into the top. Eddie blushed as a chorus of awes erupted,smiling sheepishly at Richie. Any misgivings Eddie had about the behaviour ofhis friends shattered in his mind, scattered to the four winds.

“You guys, I told you that youdidn’t have to do anything,” Eddie said between giggles as Richiepulled him by the arm into the next room, the losers hot on their heels.

“Cram it Kaspbrak,” Bev laughed. “That’sexactly why we did do something,”

“Your throne,” Richie said stuffily, beforedepositing Eddie rather unceremoniously into a large, leather La-z-boy.

“Is this why you were allacting so weird?” Eddie laughed. “And why Richie was ignoring me?”

“Absolutely,” said Stan. “Do you know how hard it was to keep this secret from youwith Richie in the loop? We told him as late as we could, and made him avoidyou. Otherwise he would have told you about it almost immediately,”

“That’s definitely true I can’t keepanything from you I would have told you immediately,” Richie chimed in. “It wasfor the best, really,”

Eddie tossed his head back and laughed, realising that the sourceof all of his worry was a surprise birthday party.

“Enough talking! It’s party time!” Mike cried, shoving a noise-maker in his mouth andblowing on it heavily.

-–-

The party lasted into the night, until Eddie decided that hehad to go home to placate his likely hyperventilating mother. He had called herto tell her where he was, but he couldn’t imagineshe was pleased.

“Can I walk you home, your grace?” Richie asked in a poor imitation ofan English accent that made Eddie laugh.

“Of course,” Eddie bid the rest of his friendsgoodnight and stepped out into the night, the chill air swirling around him anddancing across his skin. Richie reached down and took Eddie’s hand in his, leading the two downthe sidewalk.

“Sorry I was avoiding you,” Richie said sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to give the party away. It was Stan’s idea so get mad at him,”

“Chee, its okay,” Eddie chuckled. “I’m justglad you’re not mad at me like Ithought,”

Richie stopped and turned to face Eddie. Wordlessly, heleaned in, and pressed his lips tenderly against Eddie’s. The feeling of Eddie’s lipsas they fit perfectly in his sent sparks tingling across Richie’s body. They must have kissed ahundred times. Yet every time it felt brand new. Richie pulled back and placed hisarms on Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him intoan embrace.

“Happy birthday, Eds” He whispered softly into the air. “I love you,”

Eddie felt weightless, the cold night-time air feeble andinsignificant against the warmth of Richie’sembrace. Eddie nuzzled into Richie, taking in the way he smelled, the softnessof his tee-shirt against his cheek, the warmth of his body, the beat of hisheart against his own. Eddie would never get over how perfect it felt, how right it felt. Eddie sighed contentedly.

“I love you too, Chee,” he said tenderly, exulting in thewarmth that shot through him as he said it. “Now canwe go home? I’m tired,”

Richie laughed, the vibrations comforting Eddie as he feltthem through his chest. “Surething, your highness,”

Eddie smirked. “I couldget used to being called that,”

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

In That Moment (Stan Uris X Reader)

WC: 1779

Warnings: Mentions of injury, cursing

Summary: Y/N visits Stan after his near death experience, and Stan decides to say some things he's kept hidden for a while

Tagged: @fly-like-a-grayson @ahhhhamilton @lildipstick @bellasabb

A/N: My first IT fic! Hope y'all enjoy!

Y/N Y/L/N stood on the front porch of the Uris household, clutching a bouquet of flowers in her sweaty hands.

She had come to see Stan, who had only just finished his brief stint in the local hospital. The doctors claimed that Stan had serious wounds around his face, which was no shock to Y/N and the rest of the Losers.

However, only the Losers knew exactly how those wounds got there, and they knew that no adult would believe the truth.

Y/N took in a deep breath and rung the doorbell, the chiming sound magnified, thanks to her anxious mind.

Normally she would only be somewhat anxious around Stan, thanks to the ‘fucking obvious’ crush she had on him (according to Richie). However, Stan’s breakdown in the sewers played in her head on repeat, his harsh words still cutting Y/N deeply.

She was suddenly torn from her thoughts by the sound of a creaking door hinge, and she snapped her head towards the doorway.

“Oh, hello Y/N. I take it you're here to see Stan?” Mrs Uris said, smiling as she gestured to the flowers in Y/N’s hands.

“Yes, Mrs Uris.” Y/N said shyly, and Stan’s mother let out a soft chuckle at the girl’s formal tone.

“Well he's up in his bedroom. You don't need me to show you where that is.” She said, laughing softly to herself as she ushered Y/N into the house.

A crimson blush swept over Y/N’s cheeks at the older woman’s words. Y/N and Stan had been inseparable since they were young, and Mrs Uris found it endearing how close the two were.

"Stanley! You've got a visitor.” Mrs Uris called, and there was a slight grunt of a reply from upstairs.

"He's all yours.” With those words Y/N took in a deep breath and walked upstairs, the stairs squeaking under her feet.

She made her way up to the top, and automatically moved towards Stan’s bedroom. Her hand rested gently on the doorknob, and she took in a deep breath before twisting it, opening the door.

“Y/N.” Stan breathed out as her face came into his line of vision. She gave him a weak smile, closing the door behind her as she entered his room.

"Hey. How are you feeling?” Y/N said, setting the flowers down on Stan’s desk before sitting down on the end of his bed.

"You brought me flowers?” Stan asked suddenly, and Y/N’s face started to go pink.

"Yeah. I thought, you know, because you nearly died, flowers would be kind of appropriate? God, that sounded so weird.” Y/N said, cursing under her breath.

A chuckle slipped past Stan’s lips, and he winced slightly at the action. “I think it's sweet.” He said, and Y/N’s eyes went wide.

"Y-y-you do?” Y/N said and Stan nodded tentatively, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Be careful Y/N, you're starting to sound like Bill.” Stan said, and Y/N let out a loud laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, has anyone else stopped by yet?” Y/N asked, shuffling a little bit closer to Stan.

"Not yet. You're the first.” Stan said gently, and Y/N felt her stomach fill with butterflies.

Y/N looked up at him shyly and caught a glimpse of love in Stan’s eyes, and she felt the butterflies in her stomach increase in number.

They sat there together for a few seconds in silence, Y/N fiddling with the hem of her shorts and Stan fidgeting with his sheet.

"Did you mean what you said down there? You know, that we weren't your friends.” Y/N said, and Stan let out a shaky breath.

"Well, uh, at the time, I guess I meant it. But I certainly don't now.” Stan said, and Y/N’s blush grew darker as he scooted closer to her.

"For someone who had a near death experience, you, uh, you look pretty good.” Y/N said, a sudden burst of confidence spurring on her words.

Stan’s cheeks went bright red, which didn't help the somewhat dorky appearance he had, thanks to the giant bandage wrapped around his face.

“I, uh, thanks.” Stan stammered, his gaze directed towards his bare feet that hung off the edge of his bed.

“You're welcome, Stan.” Y/N muttered, her brief moment of courage gone and the adrenaline quickly leaving her system.

Stan felt a smile creep across his face as he bravely looked up, training his eyes on Y/N.

He noted just how cute she looked with her cheeks that pink, and he chuckled internally when he noticed that she was wearing Beverly’s shirt.

Girls share everything, apparently, and he remembered Y/N telling him that.

"Hey, Bev. Here's your dress back.” Y/N said, passing Beverly the article of clothing.

“Y/N, why do you have Bev’s dress?” Eddie asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I bet they fucked. That's so hot.” Richie said, and he was met with a sharp whack to the stomach from Stan.

“God, Tozier. Bev lent me her dress because I had nothing to wear out to this family event, and she happened to have a nice dress in my size.” Y/N said, and Beverly nodded in agreement.

“That's so weird. I don't share my clothes with Eddie. That being said, if he ever wore my clothes they'd probably come back with some STD from his mom.” Richie said, and everyone in the group let out a groan.

“Richie can you shut the fuck up for a second?” Stan said, and Richie just shrugged his shoulders, leaning back on his hands.

“Girls just share clothes with each other. It's cheaper than having to buy new clothes every month.” Beverly said, and Y/N nodded, a smile bright on her face.

Stan felt his stomach flip at the thought of Y/N dressed up. He had only ever seen her in shorts and t-shirts, with the odd basic dress here and there.

She was beautiful no matter what she wore, that Stan was absolutely sure of.

“Y/N, I, uh, I need to tell you something.” Stan said, and Y/N looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Fire away, Uris.” Y/N said, and Stan inhaled deeply, bravely reaching out to take Y/N’s hand in his.

A squeak slipped past Y/N’s lips, and she felt her entire face grow hot at the contact between the two of them.

“Well, I've been holding onto this for a while, and I've been contemplating whether or not to tell you, but then this happened and I thought ‘I have to do this.” Stan said quickly, gesturing to the bandage around his face with his free hand.

"Uh huh.” Y/N said, nodding her head slowly, still trying to process what was happening.

"I really like you Y/N. I think you're adorable, incredibly smart, and so funny. When I was down in the sewers, I kept thinking ‘I’m going to die without telling Y/N how I feel’, and that scared me more than that goddamn clown ever could.” Stan said, and Y/N felt her heart beat at an unnatural speed.

“Stan.” She whispered, drawing the boy’s full attention to her. She grabbed his other hand and held it softly, lacing her fingers with his.

Stan’s eyes were wide in surprise. He was shocked that Y/N felt the same, because he'd always assumed his crush on her was unrequited.

“Yeah?” He whispered, trying to calm his erratic breathing as Y/N looked at him.

“You are by far the sweetest boy in Derry, and I’ll be damned if anyone thinks otherwise.” Y/N said, and Stan’s blush grew drastically darker.

Y/N tentatively placed a hand on the side of Stan’s face, and he hissed slightly.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to.” Stan cut Y/N’s rambling off with a kiss.

Y/N’s eyes widened when Stan’s lips made contact with her own, but they closed quickly, melting into the kiss.

His lips were soft and warm, tasting somewhat of buttered popcorn. Y/N bravely moved her hands up to Stan’s mop of curly hair, running her finger through it lightly.

Stan’s hands rested on the back of Y/N’s neck, fiddling slightly with the tag of her, no, Beverly’s, shirt.

Y/N pulled away slowly, and she noticed that Stan’s eyes were still half closed, a dopey grin on his face.

“You can open your eyes, Stan.” She said, and Stan opened his eyes slowly, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry.” He muttered, his forehead resting against Y/N’s, his warm breath hitting her face.

She scrunched up her nose slightly, and Stan let out a soft laugh. “Don't laugh at me, Uris.” Y/N said, and Stan’s laugh grew louder as he moved his face away from Y/N’s.

“I'll let it go, but only because you're cute.” Y/N muttered, pecking Stan’s cheek softly.

He smiled widely at Y/N, wrapping his arms around her. Suddenly the peaceful air of the room was disrupted by a cacophony of all too familiar voices.

“Finally!”

“Thank God.”

“You go Stan the man!”

A groan escaped Stan’s lips as he looked up to see all his friends standing there, clutching a variety of gifts.

"What are you guys doing here?” Stan asked, somewhat impatiently, and a smirk spread across Beverly’s face.

“We came to see you, of course, by request of someone… special.” Beverly said, and Y/N glanced nervously up at Stan.

They both gave the rest of the Losers a strange look, and Richie let out an annoyed sigh.

“Stan’s mom snitched and said that Y/N was here, and that it might be a good idea to visit.” Richie said, and both Stan and Y/N turned an even brighter shade of red.

"Clearly your mom can read people well.” Ben said, smiling brightly at his two friends cuddled up together.

“I'm just glad the two of you finally fessed up. You look a lot happier.” Mike said, and Stan kissed the top of Y/N’s head.

“Ok, we get it, you're in love. Now move over Y/N, we've got gifts for the man of the hour!” Richie said and laughter crossed the room as Y/N stood up.

She glanced over at Stan, an overjoyed look on his face as he received gift after gift, and realised that she would never be happier than she was in that moment

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Precipice Chapter 2: Every Whim

Here we go!  In all of its un-betaed glory, Chapter 2! 

I’m really sorry for any major screw-ups in my portrayal of the hospital.  I have never needed to be taken to a hospital for anything worse than mild pneumonia, and Goggle can only get me so far.

Word count: 3281

Chapter 1  Chapter 3

Ford hated waiting.  Waiting meant doing nothing while someone else was working.  Waiting meant being fundamentally useless.  Ford despised the feeling of being useless.  But there was nothing he could do but wait.  So he paced a hole into the waiting room carpet, thinking of everything and nothing.  His gaze drifted around the room, seeing everyone and everything in it, but only half processing it. A thick numb fog clouded his thoughts, made every limb heavy even as he paced a hole into the visitor room carpet.     The clock on the wall ticked in time with his steps.

Dipper and Mabel had fallen asleep curled up together in the same chair in the waiting room, changed into the clean clothes the Corduroy girl had brought for them. Mabel had her head on Dipper's shoulder, and was using her unicorn plush as a cushion. Dipper was sleeping comfortably sitting up, his hat pulled over his face, and a large half finished sweater hanging off of Mabel's knitting needles was blanketed over both of them. Ford was amazed at her ability to knit with her arm in a sling. And the speed that she was able to knit intrigued Ford. It was almost enough to make him feel something other than shock.  Almost, but not quite.

Was it just him, or was the clock getting louder?

Ford stepped around the red headed teen- Wendy apparently- who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She had procured an axe from somewhere, and was using it to create a growing army of intricate origami figures out of magazine pages.  Some of the figures were normal looking, horses and tigers and the like.  Some were more fantastical; Ford noticed several dragons, at least two Manotaurs, and what looked like a Gremloblin placed throughout the mass of origami.  He didn’t really care. And the clock got louder. The handyman, whom Ford had realized was actually named- Soos? Maybe?- had busied himself by dismantling several tables and chairs and putting them all together into some kind of furniture chimera.  Ford barely glanced at it. The constant tick-tock of the clock was deafening now. Ford stopped and glared at the offending time-piece.  It was as generic and bland as the room they were in.  Simple and round, it glinted in the florescent lights, taunting Ford with each second that passed.  Ford’s hand drifted towards his blaster, the tiniest spark of hate guiding his actions. “Stanford Pines family?”  A nurse walked into the waiting room, reading something off of a clipboard.  He almost dropped the clipboard when he looked up and saw the mess in the waiting room.   “Yes, that’s us.”  Ford stalked over to the frazzled nurse. The man dragged his gaze away from Soos and Wendys creations and met Ford's eyes.  The nurse gave him a quick once over, before extending a hand.  “Am I correct in assuming that you’re Stanford's twin?” Ford stopped short, his mind windmilling.  What was this nurse- oh right.  Stanley was still using Stanford's name.  This was...problematic to say the least.  What do I say?  Stanley is the one who's good at lying!  A small swell of annoyance rose again inside Ford, but it was quickly crushed down by panic and a touch of guilt.  Allright Stanford.  Think-no wait, don’t think!  Just do what Stan would do! “Yes! I am S-stanley.  Stanley Pines, the t-twin brother of Stanford Pines.  Your patient.  I’m his twin.  Stanley.”  Ford squared his shoulders and tucked his hands behind his back.  He sent a silent prayer up to each and every deity he had ever heard of in the multiverse that the nurse didn’t call Ford’s bluff. The nurse raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about Ford’s behavior.  “Well, if you would please follow me, your brother is out of surgery.” Fords heart jumped a little.  “Yes, of course.”  He turns and goes to the twins.  Ford placed his hand on Dipper's shoulder, the six-fingered appendage completely engulfing the boy's shoulder.  “Dipper, Mabel, it’s time to go see Stan.”  His voice is gentle as he softly jostled the two young twins awake.   Mabel was the first to respond.  Her uninjured hand rubbed at her face as she blearily looked up at Ford.  Her words were slurred with drowsiness, and her gaze was unfocused as she spoke.  “S-stan? Whasgoinon?” Ford paused, his heart clenching in his chest as the twins shifted in their seat, waking fully under the bright lights of the waiting room.  Ford’s throat constricted, and his eyes started to prickle for the first time in...he didn’t even know how many years.  Crying had only gotten Ford into trouble in his life, had only gotten him berated by his father for being weak.  Crying had only embarrassed Ford at college, when a particularly rough week of all-nighters had left him a sobbing wreck for Fiddleford to find, hidden in a back corner of the schools pitiable library.  Crying showed weakness, marked him as an easy target, and that was something he couldn’t afford when he was traveling the multiverse.  Ford honestly thought that he had completely lost the ability to cry by now, and yet, he felt it, the pressure building in his head, the difficulty breathing, and he didn’t even know why!   And besides all that, he couldn’t break down, not now, not when he needed to be strong for the kids.  They were only twelve, they shouldn’t have to deal with something as painful as this-this fiasco that they had gone through!  So Ford swallowed his tears, forcing them down and back.  He couldn’t have done anything to stop this from happening, but he could support his family now. “No Mabel dear, it’s Ford.”  He says, mostly keeping the tremor out of his voice. “Oh.  Sorry Grunkle Ford, I thought you were-well, y’know, you two look alot alike.”  Mabel and Dipper were both wide awake now.  A red mark ran across Mabels cheek from where her unicorn plush was pushing into it.  Dipper wiped a line of drool from the corner of his mouth that Ford pretended not to notice. “It’s fine.  I’m sorry to wake you, but Stan is out of surgery.  We can go and see him now.”  Ford hadn’t even finished what he was saying before his niblings had sprang to their feet, drowsiness forgotten.  Dipper swept the book and the unicorn toy up, and Mabel stuffed her knitting project into her sling.  Ford felt like he should tell her not to do that, but as someone who had used a broken arm in a sling to smuggle contraband items through interdimensional customs on multiple occasions and suffered no ill effects, he figured that some yarn and small aluminum tubes wouldn’t aggravate Mabels injury further. “Well, what are we standing around here for, Great-Uncle Ford? Lets go!”  Dipper grabbed Mabels uninjured hand with his good one and lead the way over to the nurse.  Ford realized with a start that Stan’s employees were already standing next to the man.  The only one they were waiting on was Ford.  He stood and joined the group. As they walked through the halls of the hospital, Ford stayed to the back of the group.  Wendy and Soos walked side by side directly ahead of him.  Soos was idly fiddling with one of his tools, and Wendy had that stack of books under her arm.  Ford was still wondering where she had gotten them, and why she even had them in the first place.  But then, Ford had never understood teenagers when he was a teenager himself.  He supposed it would be a challenge to understand a teenage girl for an old man like him.  Dipper and Mabel were walking instep with the nurse, the two young twins practically glued to each other as Mabel peppered the nurse with question after question. “How’s Grunkle Stan?  Is he in pain?  Where did he get hurt?  He isn’t hurt too bad, right?  Did he ask about us?  Oh, he must be so worried about us!  Ohmygoshyoutoldhimwewereokayrightyoudidbecauseifyoudidntthenhesprobablyfreakingoutishefreakingou-”  Mabel was cut off as the nurse came to a stop and she bumped into the mans leg.   Ford looked at where they were in the hospital-and felt his heart stop cold in its chest. They were in the intensive care unit. Oh no. “Now, this is all going to look a little strange, and you might be worried,”  the nurse said, grabbing the doorknob to the room they had stopped in front of  “I assure you, Stan is stable, but-”  the nurse hesitated “But what?”  Ford said, an edge in his voice, making it almost a growl. The nurse took a breath “But I regret to inform you that due to the injuries he sustained, Stanford is currently comatose.”  Then he pushed the door open, leading the way into Stan's hospital room.  Dipper and Mabel barely hesitated before following the nurse, and Stan’s employees were hot on their heels.  But as Ford stepped into the room, the sight his eyes fell upon made him freeze. A man was lying in the bed, wearing a thin hospital gown.  The sheets were pulled up to his armpits, but his arms were lying on top of the sheets, giving Ford a perfect view of the IV lines running into his arms.  The mans right arm was in a cast from shoulder to wrist, his right hip was in a brace, and bandages were wrapped tightly around his head. Bruises were spread across the right side of his face and neck, but those were obscured by the large amounts of bandages.  And was that- “What's in Grunkle Stan's mouth?”  Mabel was the quietest Ford had ever heard her.  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out but a rasping wheeze that was so quiet Ford didn’t know if he had imagined it or not.  The nurse turned toward the younger twins, a practiced look of care and pity on his face, but surprisingly Wendy beat him to it. “It’s called a breathing tube.”  The red head knelt in front of Ford's niblings, looking them directly in the eye.  Her face was pale, but calm, determined, and the depth of understanding in her eyes shocked Ford.  “Y’see, since Stan’s in a coma, he can’t breathe by himself right now.  That,”  Wendy pointed at the offending object that was sticking out of the mans mouth and trailed over to a machine “is gonna do the breathing for him until he wakes up.” “Oh.”  Mabel whispered.  She gripped her brothers hand tighter, and he squoze back.  Their clenched hands were trembling, and their knuckles were white and bloodless.  Impossibly, they got closer together, the two twins only filling enough space for one.  They’re so small, so young!  Ford longed to reach out, to comfort them, to pull them back into his arms and tell them don’t worry, don’t cry, I’m here, this will all be okay in the end, trust me, please but he couldn’t.  Ford was stuck, clutching the doorway with trembling hands, transfixed by the man lying in the hospital bed. “Hey,”  Wendy spoke again, one hand extending and coming to rest on Dipper's shoulder “I know that this is really scary.  I know that you two are worried, and you're probably feeling awful, right?”  Two silent nods answered her “But I promise, we're gonna get through this.  If there's one thing I’ve learned this summer it’s that when you two are together, you can do the impossible.”  Wendy gave a small sad smile “And I’m not gonna lie, it’s gonna feel like Stan waking up is impossible at first.  But -and if my dad asks I never said this- Stan is the toughest old guy I have ever met.  If anyone can pull through this, he can.” “How do you know?”  Dipper blurted out, almost cutting Wendy off  “How do you know that-all that-he’s gonna-how-” “Hey, hey, breath dude.  You don’t wanna pass out on us now, do you?”  Wendy said, squeezing Dipper's shoulder.  The boy took a deep, steadying breath, and Mabel leans even closer into him.  “And how do I know that Stan’s gonna be okay?”  She gives a small, sad chuckle  “I’m a lumberjack, and so are my brothers, and my dad and everyone in my family for as long as people have been cutting down trees.  I’ve got some...unfortunate firsthand experience with this stuff.”  She jerked her head in the direction of the hospital bed. “Hey Mr Dr Pines, are you okay dude?”  The handyman says to Ford.  But Ford barely hears him.  All he can do is stare at the man in the bed, the man that can’t be his brother, the man that is so still and so quiet and so broken and so small, too small to be Stanley, his brother, his twin who was always restless and larger than life and loud and indomitable and so, so, so Stanley, so unmistakably and unapologetically himself and he couldn’t see his brother in the room, he could only see the man, the broken man that had the same face as Stanley and Ford couldn’t- he couldn’t move he couldn’t think he couldn’t-his throat was tightening and his eyes were burning because Stanley was hurt and Ford couldn’t have stopped it, there was no way he could have stopped it and Stanley was hurt and he was full of tubes and coated in plaster like a poorly made piñata and- A thick hand clapped down on Fords shoulder “Dude?”  Ford jumped, his gaze snapping away from Stanley and locking on to Soos, his train of thought blessedly derailed. “Yes.  Yes, I’m fine.”  Ford finally released his grip on the door frame and entered the room, painfully aware of the fact that every eye in the room was on him.  Well, almost every- “Mr Pines?  I have to talk to you about your plan for paying for your brothers treatment.”  The nurse said, looking down at his clipboard. “Yes, what about it?”  Ford said, grounding himself further back into reality.  “And its Dr Pines.” “Well sir, I’ve looked through your brothers records, and he doesn’t have any health insurance.”  The nurse gave Ford a quizzical look, as if he expected Ford to know why Stanley had ignored common sense and sacrificed a few measly dollars a month to take care of himself in case of a major catastrophe like the one they were currently in the middle of.   “Ah.  I see.”  Ford clasped his hands behind his back “How large is the bill so far?” The nurse rattled off a number, and Ford felt his jaw drop involuntarily That’s more money than I’ve made in my entire life! Ford floundered for a moment, before the handyman spoke “Hey, I know where My Pines hides the emergency cash.  And the not-emergency cash.  And the I’m-just-hiding-this-to-feel-like-a-pirate cash.  I don’t know how much there is, but it should at least help.” Mabel gave a little gasp  “And I know for a fact that Grunkle Stan hides cash in a bunch of the attractions in the Shack!  Waddles pantsed the Sascrotch the other week and I found, like, three rolls of twenties stashed in the underpants!” “Really?”  Ford asked  “Stan has all that money hidden around the Shack?” “Dude, you don’t know the half of it!”  Soos said  “Mr Pines doesn’t trust the banks, like, at all dude.  I find money hidden everywhere when I’m fixin up stuff.”    Ford opened his mouth to respond, but the nurse spoke first “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are almost over.  I’m going to have to ask you all to leave.”    There was an outcry at the nurse's words.  No one wanted to leave Stanley alone in the hospital.      Ford spoke above the noise that the children-and the man-child- were making, pleading with the nurse to at least let him stay overnight.  He was, after all, Stan’s next of kin.  He should at least be allowed to do that.  The nurse eventually relented, much to the displeasure of his niblings.    “Grunkle Ford, we wanna stay too!”  Mabel protested  “What if Stan wakes up in the middle of the night and needs a Mabel hug, huh?  What are you going to do without me?”    “And if you don’t come back to the Shack, we can’t stay there by ourselves overnight since were minors.  That’s child endangerment!”  Dipper tacked on    Ford sighed “Look, kids, I know you want to stay here, but I’m sorry, you can’t.  And as for where you’ll spend the night…”  Ford fumbled for a minute before eyeing the handyman “would it be too much trouble for them to stay with you for the night?”    Soos hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the kids scowling faces and vigorously shaking heads, then looked past Ford to where Stan was lying.  The man-child's indecisive expression hardened into resigned determination  “As much as I hate to leave Mr Pines during this trying time, I know that he would want me to take care of the little dudes.  You have my word Mr Dr Pines that no further harm with befall these children while they are in my care.”  He ended his statement with stiff, odd salute.  Seeing such seriousness from the bumbling man-child caught Ford off guard.      Soos had just started to heard Ford’s grumbling niblings out of the hospital room before Wendy stopped the three of them.  “Here.”  She hands over half of the books she brought to Soos, keeping the four largest for herself  “I have the sections that talk about all this stuff-”  she gestures around the room “bookmarked and highlighted.  It’ll help you know more about what Stan’s going through, make it less scary and mysterious, y’know?”  Wendy hung back as Soos and the kids left, and offered the remaining books she had to Ford with a hard look.    Ford couldn’t hold back a scoff as he refused her offer.  “I have twelve PhD’s, I assure you that I don’t need any light reading material to know what's going on with my brother.”  Ford turned away, sinking into the chair the nurse had brought in for him.  He started as the books were dumped unceremoniously over his shoulder and into his lap.  Ford turned to look at Wendy and matched the angry teen glare for glare.    “Look Stan Two, I don’t know what kind of crazy junk you’ve seen and done over the years, and I don’t flippin’ care.  But, y’know, fyi, you aren’t the first and only person to have their own brother comatose after falling 50 feet and landing on their head!”  Wendy turned and stalked to the door, hands jammed into her pockets as she left a slightly stunned Ford behind her.  She paused in the doorway, looking past Ford and at Stanley, with a sad, hard scowl on her face.  Ford could see the first signs of tears in her eyes as she spoke again,  “Look, the books do help.  Just trust me on this.”  And then she left in a whirl of red hair and flannel.    Well.  This is not how I expected this day to end.  Ford thought as he looked back at his brother.  Slowly, gently, almost of its own accord, one of his hands reached out, hovering over Stan's hand, lying rough and wrinkled and scarred in contrast to the pristine, crisp newness of the hospital sheets.  Ford withdrew his hand before making contact, some tiny feeling deep in his gut pulling him back.  With a sigh, Ford flipped open the first book he grabbed, thumbing through the pages to find the first bookmarked section.  He shifted in his seat, getting comfortable and preparing for a long night.

[danvssomethingorother]

Knitting and Reading

Summary: Mabel and Dipper try to help Fiddleford remember

A03 

It had been a week since the society of the blind eye, Dipper was growing antsy and in his impatience dragged his sister with him back out to meet with the local coot.

Mabel didn’t mind, really, she didn’t, it was nice to get out of the house and see how the old man was holding up after everything that went down. She even planned on making him a sweater and needed his exact measurements anyway.

It wasn’t hard to find him, he was out in the open, fiddling away with some scrap metal and humming loud enough to make Dipper cringe at the off-tune melody. Mabel, however, didn’t mind and much to her brother’s chagrin began humming loudly right along with the old man.

The old man dropped his tools, head shooting up to see the twins, a nervous flush temporarily lit across his face before he fell victim to Mabel’s smile and smiled back to her. Mabel knew most would shy away in disgust at his rotting teeth poking out and while she didn’t exactly find it ‘pretty’ she found she didn’t mind it. She liked seeing he was in a good mood after everything he had to just remember. If he could smile after all that, it made her feel like she could smile brighter just to make him feel more comfortable.

She waved and called his name loudly running over to give him a large hug.

He was taken back for a second tensing his shoulders before his eyes grew a little misty as he hugged Mabel back just as tightly.

Dipper coughed into his hand breaking apart the moment too soon, making Mabel scowl at her brother at the momentary disappointment that the first hug he had gotten in years had been broken too soon.

He grabbed Mr. McGucket by the arm and pulled him away from Mabel who put her hands on her hips in annoyance.  

“Have you had any head way on the computer?”

Mr. McGucket looked towards Mabel almost for help before giving a small smile Dipper’s way.

“I been tryin’ but my memory ain’t as good as it used ta be...”  

Mabel smiled sympathetically and Dipper face fell in sympathy as well as the old man sat on the ground, holding the sides of his head, pulling his old hat over his eyes a little to hide from what he mistook as Dipper’s disappointment.  

“Hey, man, its Ok…” Dipper began placing his hand on McGucket’s shoulder and plopping down next to the man on the ground.  

“Yeah!” Mabel exclaimed plopping on the ground on the older man’s opposite side, placing her hand on his shoulder as well smiling brighter when his eye poked out from under his hat, “Old people just have naturally bad memories.”

“Mabel!” Dipper yelped out turning to her with a look of disbelief.

“It’s not a bad thing! It’s just what nature intended really!”

She shrugged, “Grunkle Stan forgets stuff all the time. It’s annoying but really only for him. He loses his teeth and he’s the only one really affected. Soooo, we just help him out by keeping an eye out for them.”

McGucket’s smile began to return at her casual comment so she smiled brighter and continued, “Let us help you out! We can help your memory come back!’’

“Ya would do that?” he asked looking from one twin to the other a red flush growing on his face.

“Yeah! Oh course!” Dipper said patting him on the back.

“And not just to find out who the dumb old author is but because you’re our friend!” Mabel added in making the old man practically glow in appreciation.

“Really?” he asked and the twins nodded in unison patting him on the back reassuringly.

“Is it ok if I show you some passages from the journal again? I re read it last night and it seems he mentions you a few times. It might help you remember who he was a little.”

“And maybe more importantly, who you were,” Mabel said placing her hand on his shaking cast as he eyed the journal.

“Before we do that, can I take your measurements to make you a sweater? You are in a desperate need of a Mabel Make Over.”

She squealed in delight pulling some measuring tape from her bag at his nod and began taking his measurements while her brother opened the book to his marked page and began skimming it till he found the passage he was looking for.

“Do you remember the time you and the author went on a hiking trip? A few pages are ripped out, so maybe you could try to complete the story of where you were going before you encountered the Gremloblin and what happened afterwards.”

“And look you can help me knit if ya want to if anything in the book starts to upset you!” Mabel piped in pulling out several different colors of yarn laying them and several colorful, girly patches in front of the old man.

“Pick out what color and design you want on your new sweater while my bro bro reads you a story.”

He pointed towards a red and a raccoon patch. Mabel smiled brightly scooting closer towards him and showing him how she was crafting the sweater to give him something to focus on as her brother began to read. She began humming a song he liked under her breathe and he tried to keep his focus on that as memories began shifting through his head.

He was young was again, a man with six fingers telling him to hurry up they were wasting day light but all he wanted to do was stop and rest a minute not used to such an exhausting work out.

He remembered the Plaidypus and the tooth the boy talked about, he could picture them clearly but the six-fingered man was harder to remember. He didn’t know what his voice was, so maybe Dipper’s was close to the mark. He didn’t remember his hair or his eyes or any features that weren’t his fingers. The more he listened the more he recalled he was bigger than him, maybe not taller but wider. He had to be, he carried him home after…

He clasped his eyes shut, feeling those clawed hands digging into his sides once more and that hot breath on his face. Staring into those eyes and every nightmare coming to life, the faint feeling of wind fluttering through his hair.  

His nails dug into his hat, yanking it, his cast scratching at his face. Every muscle shook. I wish to unsee this his mind yelled out as he found himself throwing whatever he could find together in another far-off memory trying to do just that. He just wanted to forget…please let me forget…

“Mr. McGucket!!!”

A scared plea broke into his mind and he began to untense Mabel in front of him shaking him gently running her finger across his thin hair in a comforting familiar way that brought him back to a time when six fingers had done the same. His eyes were like her eyes, a warm brown filled with fear and concern and they only wanted to help him.

He put his shaking hand on Mabel’s face, wiping away a tear. He felt terrible for scaring the poor girl and her brother standing looking at him with fearful eyes next to him. He cracked a smile despite his fears and panics pulling Mabel into a tight hug with one arm and reaching over to grab Dipper pulling him in with his other arm.

They were good kids, such good kids, he didn’t want them upset none because of him.

He ran his hand through their hair and tried to assure them he was Ok now, it wasn’t their fault.

“I remember the author more,” he said through his own croaked out sob running his fingers through their hair trying to help keep them calm not wanting them to be afraid anymore, “He was a good kind man who tried to help me just like you are.”

They both cracked smiles at him as he began to tell them a memory of the six fingered man taking him to the carnival but he didn’t remember the rest. Dipper began taking notes as he told him more from the pages that were gone that were coming back to him slowly. He exaggerated and made them happier then they were just to make the kids comfortable.

They were such good kids, they reminded him of the author and that made him happy but he couldn’t say why.

[calummwhatchasay]

Fuck, In Every Sense of the Word (cashton&muke)

1. this is based off a post on this website but idk where it is 2. so fucikgn fluffy 3. also kinda long im sorry 4. (my grammar is good in my writing, this is the lazy part)

-----

The busboy is really cute. Like. Fuckign. Okay. It’s fine, really. Luke isn’t even staring. (Except he totally is.) Deep breaths. A baseball cap sits backwards on his head and the tips of his hair are bleached, but his roots have grown out and his natural brown color shows. His green eyes have glazed over a bit as he wipes the same table for the fifth time.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you, my name is Ashton. I’m your best friend and am not anywhere near that table in the corner. If you could maybe listen to me complain about my History lecture, that would be awesome.”

“Fuck off. Besides, I’ve heard you complain about your lecture a million times. I’ve never seen him before. Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”

“Thirsty much? Maybe chill a little.”

“Can I get you all anything to drink?” A waiter with brown eyes and a name tag reading ‘Hello! My name is none of your business’ asks.

“Um-I, um, yes, we’d, er-” Ashton stutters continuously while trying to take his eyes off the waiter long enough to look at the menu.

“Ashton, you look a little flushed, are you feeling okay?” Luke asks Ashton, his laughter barely contained by mock-concern. “Why don’t you get an iced coffee, to help you cool off. And for me,” Luke grins at the waiter, and then looks back at Ashton, “tea.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll be back with your drinks in just a minute.” The waiter beams at the two.

Once the waiter’s ass has disappeared behind the doors to the kitchen, Ashton reverts his attention to Luke’s shit-eating grin. A quirk of Luke’s eyebrow has the contented smile on Ashton’s lips contorted into a grimace. “Fight me.” Luke’s grin only grows.

“Shut up.”

“Leave.”

“Let me live.”

“I’m bored of this conversation.” Luke sighs dramatically.

“I’m bored of you.”

Luke ignores Ashton’s weak attempt at an insult. “Entertain me.”

Ashton groans but concedes, inevitably. “Fine. Let’s play a game.”

“Okay, what game.”

“I don’t know! Do I have to do everything around here?” Ashton throws up his hands.

“Well… I don’t know how to put this. But, uh, yes. Remember? In the car on the way over here you said it yourself. ‘Luke, you are so useless. I swear, I have to do everything myself.’”

“Okay, okay, shut up.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me in half as many minutes.”

“Shut up.” Luke glares, but lets him continue. “What about Truth or Dare?”

“Are we 13 and at a sleepover?” Luke questions, unimpressed.

“In terms of maturity? Yes, yes we are.”

“We are not playing Truth or Dare in the middle of a restaurant.”

“Never Have I Ever?”

“We know literally everything about each other.”

“Fuck, Marry, Kill?” Luke ponders this for a second, attempting to come up with a legitimate reason not to play.

“We really are as mature as 13-year-olds, aren’t we?” He murmurs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, let’s start easy. The Chrises: Hemsworth, Evans, Pratt.”

“This is easy?” Luke mutters, eyes wide. Ashton cackles in a way that’s a lot scarier than it should be. “Fuck, um. Fuck, uh…”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to decide who to fuck, or you’re just generally stressed.”

“Okay, um. Marry Evans, fuck Hemsworth, and, oh god, no! I guess kill Pratt. I don’t want to do that! This sucks, this is the worst.”

“I would fuck Evans, marry Pratt, kill Hemsworth.”

“I couldn’t kill Hemsworth! I wouldn’t.” Luke puts hand on his forehead, in a somewhat ridiculous fashion. “Okay, how about Hayley Williams, Selena Gomez, Shailene Woodley.”

“Wow, okay. Um…” Ashton pauses, scrunching up his face in thought. “Yea, fuck Selena, marry Hayley, kill Shailene.”

Luke tsks. “Marry Shailene, fuck Hayley, kill Selena.”

“I’ve got one! Lucy, Franklin, and Peppermint Patty from Peanuts.”

“You are sick-minded.” Luke says, glaring across the table. Ashton’s lips spread into a wide grin, and he lets out a slight chuckle. “Fuck Peppermint Patty, marry Franklin, kill Lucy.” Luke says with a decisive nod.

“That was an awful quick decision for such a,” Ashton makes air quotes with his fingers, “‘sick’ group.”

“What about you?”

“Easy. Fuck Lucy, marry Franklin, kill Patty.”

“Franklin just seems like husband material, right?”

“Oh yea, definitely.”

“Um, here are your drinks.” The waiter interjects, as he returns with the drinks. It’s as if someone’s painted a pink stripe across Ashton’s cheeks, his blush is so bright.

“Thanks.” Ashton mutters into his lap.

“Yea, thanks so much, None of Your Business.” The waiter looks somewhat offended before he realizes Luke is just reading his name tag.

“Right. Would you all like to order?” Luke looks to Ashton to see if he’s chosen what he’s going to eat. He’s still gawping at the waiter like he’s Jesus Reincarnate.

“You know, we haven’t even looked at our menus. Could you come back in a few?” The waiter smiles graciously before making his way back to the kitchen.

“Get your shit together, Ashton.” Luke leans across the table to (not-so) lightly hit him with the menu that has yet to be opened.

“Leave me alone? What did I do to deserve this? I am so nice and kind all the time?” Luke frowns at him, completely unconvinced. “Shut up.” Ashton says, sticking his tongue out.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Luke throws up his hands, entirely too done with his best friend.

“Whatever. What do you want to eat?”

“Um. Um, I think, uh…” Luke trails off, not even looking at his menu.

“What are you-” Ashton turns to see what Luke is staring at and finds the same busboy from earlier, now helping their waiter with a big order at another table. “Oh.”

The two boys sit in silence, each trapped in their own minds. The waiter and the busboy are returning to the kitchen far too quickly, and Ashton has turned his attention back to deciding what to eat. He looks up to ask Luke if maybe they ought to split a pizza? But Luke is still staring at the doors to the kitchen, lost in thought.

“I’m not saying you can’t talk but…” Ashton grabs Luke’s tea and takes a sip.

“Oh, fuck off.” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs, but gives Luke his drink back.

“Do you want to split a pizza?”

“Only if there are banana peppers on it.”

“Deal.”

“Fuck, marry, kill, Elmo, Cookie Monster, Oscar the Grouch.”

“Luke, what the fuck.”

“Says Mr Peanuts Characters.”

“At least they’re human!” Ashton exclaims.

“Pick.”

“Fuck Cookie Monster, marry Elmo, kill Oscar.” Ashton sighs, dejected.

“Really? Cookie Monster?” Luke looks genuinely surprised.

“I mean, yea, I’d fuck Cookie Monster.” Ashton shrugs.

A cough prevents Luke from further probing. “Um… Are you all ready to er, order?”

Luke breaks eye contact with Ashton to look at their waiter, who’s nervously fiddling with his pen. Ashton sits stock still. The only way Luke knows he’s alive is the way his face pales when their waiter first speaks, and then reverts back to the bright pink that Ashton seems to usually flush when their waiter comes around.

“Yea, yes we do. We’ll have a medium pizza with banana peppers and…” Luke glances at Ashton to see if there are any more toppings he’d like, “and that’ll be all.” Luke smiles at the waiter before handing him their two menus.

“Alright, it’ll be out in about fifteen minutes.” The waiter starts to turn back to the kitchen, but rotates back quickly, “I would fuck Cookie Monster too, by the way.” He then quickly returns to the kitchen.

“Well that was the worst thing that’s ever happened in the world, ever.”

“Maybe you’re exaggerating a tiny bit?”

“No, most definitely not.”

“Fuck, marry, kill-”

“No.”

“Why not?” Luke pouts, jutting out his bottom lip.

“Because, Luke. Stop being like this.”

“No, I don’t understand, Ash.” Ashton glares at Luke, but fails to respond. “Can you please explain?”

“Luke, I swear…” Ashton sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Fuck, marry, kill, our waiter, the busboy, and, um…" Luke pauses, unsure of who to add to his list. He searches the restaurant for someone attractive enough to make Ashton squirm. He glances past Ashton and catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window. “And me.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“If you say kill me, we’re going to have to fight.”

“That’s not much of a threat, we both know you would lose.”

“Shut up. Answer.”

“That’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it?”

“Whatever. Shut up. Fuck off. Answer.”

Ashton chuckles, but answers all the same. “Kill the busboy, fuck the waiter, and marry you.”

“You would kill the busboy?” Luke gasps. “Wait." Luke holds up a hand, as if physically asking to Ashton to stop. “You would marry me?” Luke puts his hands over his heart. “I’m flattered.”

“I change my mind, I’m marrying the waiter, fucking the busboy, and murdering you with a blunt instrument, so it’s extremely painful.”

“Honestly, I can’t blame you. The busboy is beautiful. I want him to have my children.” Luke nods in earnest. Ashton smirks.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows knit together. “Is there tea on my face?”

“No, no.” Ashton’s smile only seems to grow, “You’re just so whipped for someone you’ve never met.”

“I’m not whipped!” Luke flushes.

“Mhmm. Your blush disagrees.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.” Ashton shakes his head. “Fuck, marry, kill: Busboy, Waiter, me.”

“Fuck the busboy, marry you, kill the waiter.” Luke replies after a breath. Ashton quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh? You aren’t going to marry the busboy.”

“Well, it’s like you said... I barely know him. He could just be a really hot serial killer. You and I, our marriage would be loveless, but I wouldn’t be dead. And I would just have multiple sidechicks.”

“Or sidedicks.”

“Or sidedicks.” Luke agrees.

Ashton reaches across the table to reach the salt and spills Luke’s drink everywhere. “Ashton! What the fuck! What the hell were you even going to salt?!”

“My, um, coffee?”

“Why are you being so wei-”

“Excuse me,” Ashton raises his hand, waving someone over, “would you mind helping us clean this up?” 

Within seconds, the blondish brunette is standing at the pair’s table, a towel in hand and a rosy tint on his cheekbones.

“I would love to help, but I need to use the bathroom.” Ashton beams, a glint in his eye.

“Ashton.” Luke spits, gritting his teeth.

“I really have to pee, Luke.” Ashton offers Luke a very fake pout and leaves the booth.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin!” Luke all but shouts after him. The busboy rocks back and forth on his heels.

“My company really isn’t that bad, y’know. And I’m not a serial killer.” He shrugs, starting to mop up the mess on the table.

“I-I didn’t think, I just- um, sorry, I’m-” Luke stammers, unable to string words together in a sensible order.

“Shh...” The busboy puts a finger to Luke’s lips.

“Er...” Luke sits there, listless. The busboy moves around dishes and continues to soak up the tea. All Luke can do is sit there like a dumbass, staring at the sharp angle of the boy’s jawline and thinking about how warm the boy’s hand was.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- You were stammering, and I- well, I-” Luke interrupts to busboy, putting a finger to his lips.

“Shh.” The busboy’s lips curve into a (really cute, oh my god) smile. Luke pulls his hand back to his lap. His cheeks are pink again.

“Have you got a name?”

“Y-yea. I’m Luke.”

“Luke,” The boy pulls his eyebrows together, “Suits you. I’ll tell your waiter to bring you a new tea.” And then the mysterious busboy turns tail and walks back to the kitchen.

“So.” Ashton says, sliding back into his seat.

“So.” Luke stares across the table at Ashton. “How was your piss?”

“Jesus, you’re petty.”

“And you’re a little bitch, but what else is new?”

“I’m not saying I hate you, but...”

“I change my mind. I’m marrying the busboy and killing you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Who?”

“The busboy. What’s his name.”

“I, er, don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask for his name. You talked to him for like five minutes and you didn’t get his name.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what?” Ashton all but screeches, “Daydreaming?!”

“Maybe.” Luke mutters.

“Honestly.” Ashton shakes his head.

“Here’s your pizza guys.” The waiter puts the pizza down, “Your tea,” He puts Luke’s tea on the table in front of him, “and, Ashton, do you want a refill?” He starts chewing on his pen, looking intently at Ashton.

“You, um, you know my- er, um... no. Thank you. No thank you. But, a water would be nice?”

“Sure thing!” The waiter is a little too excited to bring a customer water in Luke’s opinion, but Ashton is also far too nervous to order one. They just might be a match made in heaven. The waiter heads back towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t get his name?! What were you doing? Daydreaming!”

“Shut up.” Ashton groans.

“Let’s just eat, yea?”

“Whatever.” Ashton grumbles, taking two slices. Luke rolls his eyes, grabbing a few slices of his own.

“Here’s your water!” 

“Thank you, um, thanks so much.” The waiter stands there a few seconds too long, just looking at Ashton.

“Right.” He straightens his back, as if knocking himself out of stupor, “If you need anything, I’ll be over there.” He points to the kitchen. “So... yea.”

“Wait! Who should I ask for? If I need something.”

“Calum. I’m Calum.” And he turns around and doesn’t quite sprint back to the kitchen.

“You two are sickening.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You got his name though. I envy you that.”

“Chill. Eat your pizza.” Ashton grabs a third piece.

“God, you’re annoying when you’re hungry. And when you’re not. You’re actually just always annoying.”

“Wow, thanks. Remind me to never ask you to be my wingman ever.”

“I have a feeling you won’t need a wingman after today.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That was redundant.”

“And that was irrelevant. Are you going to really going to kill me? Is that why I won’t need a wingman? Because, it’s just a game. You’re not actually supposed to fuck, marry, and kill the people you say you will in the game.”

“Shut up. I was just trying to say I think you and Calum,” Luke does a little dance with his eyebrows that just makes Ashton uncomfortable, “might be thE START OF SOMETHING NEW!” Ashton puts his head in his hands because why, of all people, is this idiot his best friend? “No, but seriously,” Luke pokes him, “I think he likes you.” Luke says, finishing his third piece of pizza.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“What if he’s straight.”

“I think he’s about as straight as a shape with a 2πr perimeter.”

“Did you just fucking say that.” Luke shrugs at Ashton’s appalled expression. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Luke finishes his fourth slice.

“Dessert?” Calum asks, coming over to their table. Luke glances at Ashton. No response. If he plans on asking this boy out anytime soon, he needs to work on his voice box functionality when their waiter comes around.

“I think the check will do. Should we bring it back there, or...?” Luke asks as Calum hands him the check.

“I’ll come grab it.”

“Thanks, Calum.” Luke smiles. “You know,” he says turning to Ashton, “if you ever intend to make a move, you need to actually speak. As of current, I’m pretty sure he thinks I like him, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Hell no, Luke. Get your hands off my man!”

“Okay, a) calm down, b) people are staring, so c) calm down more. D) I don’t like him, e) he isn’t your man,” Luke puts his pointer finger up at Ashton’s indignant expression, “f) yet, and g) my hands aren’t anywhere near him.”

“Jesus this isn’t kindergarten, you and your alphabet need to chill. Also, he will be my man, and your hands better never be anywhere near him.”

“Thank you all for coming to eat with us!” Calum beams as Luke hands back the check and two twenties.

“You owe me twenty bucks Ashton. And I believe you owe this gentleman a thank you.” Luke stands up to leave. “I’ll be in the car, if you ever manage to open your mouth.”

“Fuc-”

“Ashton Fletcher! Language! Please do not use expletives in public, there could be children about!” Ashton just glares as Luke exits the restaurant.

“Ashton, I am so sorry,” Calum wrings his hands together, “I’ll be right back, I just have to take of something real quick. Please wait?” Calum asks, a worried expression plaguing his chiseled features.

“Of course.” A smile graces Ashton’s lips, and it’s bright in the way that reminds Calum of the sun, but soft in the way that reminds him of it setting on the ocean.

Calum rushes back to the kitchen, and less than a minute later, he and the busboy are walking back out at Olympic speed. The busboy continues towards the exit and Calum makes his way back to Ashton.

“Sorry, I kind of...” Calum trails off when his gaze switches from the door to Ashton.

“No, yea. Of course.” Ashton breaks himself out of the trance he seems to fall into every time Calum is around.

“Fletcher, huh?”

“Do we have to talk about that? I’d really rather not.”

“Aw, c’mon! It’s cute.” Calum pauses as if he’s about to say something else, but he isn’t quite sure he should. “You’re cute.”

“I-” Ashton almost says he isn’t, but Luke’s been telling him he needs to learn to accept compliments, “Thank you.” The silence hangs in the air for a minute. “So, what’s your middle name.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would. Very much.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh? How much later?”

“A couple days, maybe. Over french bread and cheese that tastes expensive, but I got for free from my sister who works at a cheese shop.”

“Maybe at an overlook where we can watch the sunset. It’s a bit of a hike but,” Ashton looks Calum up and down, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you.” (And if Ashton is disproportionately proud of himself for not fainting, no one needs to know.)

“How’s Friday sound?” Calum grins.

“How’s I’ll pick you up at 7 sound?” Ashton grins back.

“Perfect.” Calum hands Ashton his phone and Ashton inputs his number.

“Text me.” Ashton turns around to leave, and congratulate himself on what may have been the most successful flirting of his life.

“Oi!” Ashton looks over his shoulder at Calum. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Luke paid?”

Calum lets his eyes drift down to Ashton’s butt, “Yea, but your tip was better.” He winks cheekily, and Ashton thinks he could get used to this.

-

5 minutes ago

Michael bursts through the doors to the parking lot. “Where, where, where!” He mutters, tugging at the short hair sticking out from his baseball cap. He spots broad shoulders and blond hair a couple of rows over. “Luke!”

Luke spins around, not knowing quite what to look for. “Busboy?” Luke looks confused, concerned, maybe a tinge hopeful, but Michael’s probably imagining that.

Michael maneuvers around the shoddy parking jobs towards Luke. “Hey. Hi.” He smiles, a tad shyer than before.

“Um, hi. Is everything okay?” Luke’s face pales for a second. “Ashton- Ashton isn’t hurt is he, because I-”

“No, he’s alright.” Michael puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder to calm him down, “I just wanted to- to talk to you.” Luke smiles, just a little.

“Yea? About what?”

“I know you’re a tea guy, but, I know this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop where they sometimes have music. I’ve heard it’s a pretty good place for first dates.”

“Were you going to ask someone out?” Luke asks. Michael honestly isn’t sure whether he’s kidding, or if he honestly doesn’t know Michael is trying to ask him out. “Tinder date?”

“No, Luke, I-”

“Not a Tinder date? Who then?”

“Luke, please.” Luke lifts an eyebrow (A single eyebrow! How does he do that? Michael’s eyebrows do not work independent of each other.) “You, Luke. Would you like to go to this kind of lame coffee shop I know, where the lighting is low but the music is good, and the people are quiet. Would you go on a date with me?”

“I might, maybe. Probably. Normally. But I can’t.” And Michael’s face falls, and Luke might cry, but goddammit, he’s going to stay strong, because this is only fair.

“I understand. I didn’t mean to bother you. I really need to be getting back anyway, um-”

“I can’t, because my mum always told me not to go places with strange men you don’t know. And a certain busboy I find awful cute never told me his name.”

“You dick. I was about to go cry into my dish towel, you know.”

“Oh you were not, you are so over-dramatic.”

“I was! It’s not every day a really cute guy comes into your workplace and tries to flirt with you but is too nervous, but in being nervous only gets cuter! I was very upset!”

“You think I’m cute?”

“I thought that was very obvious. Was it not? Let me clarify: I think you are probably both the cutest and the hottest guy I have ever seen, simultaneously. And I look in the mirror every morning.”

Luke hums, biting his lip to keep from splitting his cheeks, “That’s pretty hard to compete with.”

“Lunch then? On Saturday? I’ll pick you up?”

“You haven’t given me your number, told me where we’re going, given me a specific time, or told me your fucking name.”

“I’m sorry! You’re just- really distracting, you know that? I can’t get my mind off of you long enough to remember how to hold a conversation.”

Luke looks at his beat up Converse. “Thank you. You’re pretty cute yourself.”

“It’s Michael,” He can’t keep the grin off his face, “Before I forget. Michael Clifford.” Luke looks up, and his smile must be a thousand watts, in Michael’s estimation. Luke hands the busboy - Michael - his phone. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Yea. You do that, Luke. I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go on a date. I’ll go on a date with you. ‘Cos you said yes. Sounds like a plan.”

“Shh.” Luke puts his finger to Michael’s lips. “We can talk on Saturday. Now, get back to work.”

MASTERLIST

5. no one blushes this much?? 6. i came up with the word sidedicks on the spot who’s proud of me 7. ‘disproportionately’ is a really long word 8. i use so many variations of the word smile js 9. the ending is kinda shoddy im sorry 10. should i have put a ‘read more’ in? probably. did i? nope.