#just quits entirely because pancake needs it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artists-ally · 13 days

Note

Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!

{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter

This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3

Word Count: 3,998

Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22

Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.

~~~~~

“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.

I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”

“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”

“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”

“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”

I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”

“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”

“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”

Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”

A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”

“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”

“How did you know I had Chinese food?”

“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.

Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho.

I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma.

The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.

And that felt amazing.

I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top.

21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second.

The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head.

There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again.

When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein.

“Yn,” a voice spoke.

I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.”

My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.

“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”

All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it.

“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”

He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”

“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor.

“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”

“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”

Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.”

“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”

“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss. “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”

I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”

“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”

“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”

A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again.

“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap.

“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?”

Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front.

Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.

To my Yn,

Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep.

You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise.

I love you. <3 Harvey

I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in.

“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”

He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”

I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”

“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me.

Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over.

“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”

“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”

I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice.

“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”

I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”

What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again.

Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside.

I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”

“Yup.”

“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”

“There is.”

“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”

“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes.

“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”

“We’re going to China.”

Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”

Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”

“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there.

“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”

“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”

“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"

“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.

I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip.

But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this.

We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face.

Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go.

“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans.

“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes.

He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own.

I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.

He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.

“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”

“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”

“I just need you to-”

“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”

Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.

Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.

Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground.

The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.

A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh.

“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”

I just might.

He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.

I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life.

When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body.

“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.

“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”

Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.

“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip.

“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”

He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”

“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle.

“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me.

It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still.

“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full.

“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned.

“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know my love, I know.”

With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.

~~~~~

With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow.

He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”

“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…

“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”

“Why else are you up so early?”

“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”

My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”

“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”

“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”

“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”

My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”

“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”

“More than you could ever know.”

#harvey x reader #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter smut #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter x you #harvey specter suits #harvey specter fanfiction #harvey specter #smut #writing #my writing

124 notes · View notes

loveandmurders · 1 year

Note

hii, can i request some angst with bo sinclair, maybe him and the reader (gn please :3) get into a fight, he basically says he doesnt need the reader and tell them to get out, and the reader leaves and doesnt know where to go so they hide in one of the abandoned houses, n basically hide there all night while bo (whos too stubborn to admit hes nervous) waits at home for them, but they accidentally fall asleep n wake up at like 4am or smth and the entire town is turned on as bo and vincent look for them? fluffy ending please? just break my heart then give me some tooth rotting fluff

thank you, have a wonderful day/night!

Hello love, I'm sorry it took me so long to write and post this request. I really hope you will enjoy this <3

GO BUT DON'T LEAVE ME

Gender neutral reader, with no physical description.

Warnings: Verbal abuses from Bo, Bo is an asshole but he loves you, morally grey reader who enjoys the killings, mention of blood, violence, killings, little injuries, tears, angst/comfort.

You didn’t know why, but lately, a lot of tourists were coming by Ambrose. You were glad because it meant the boys had all the work they wanted, and Bo could take out his anger on strangers, but at the same time, it was saddening you. You were feeling a little bit neglected by your boyfriend who was getting up early every morning and coming home late at night. And because of the hunt, you had to stay locked up inside the house for your own safety. You tried to busy yourself in the kitchen, and to take care of yourself, but you were starting to get bored and you wanted Bo’s attention more than anything.

Actually you had planned on trying to trap Bo in bed with you this morning, and then to have some sexy time under a warm shower, before continuing to seduce him with some pretty outfits you found in one of the tourists’ suitcases. If you were good enough, you could even hope for Bo to bring you to a restaurant for lunch. You really thought you could manage that because you had been good at having Bo wrapped around your little finger; your little attentions and cuddles worked a lot more on the man than he wanted to admit it.

But it seemed like it wasn’t your lucky day. As you tried to love on Bo for him to stay in bed, he roughly pushed you away from him and got up.

“Gonna be late ‘cause of your stupid ass” he told you as a greeting and you felt quite hurt because you just wanted him. But you were as stubborn as him so you got up, your naked body in its whole glory and you pressed yourself against his back.

“Maybe we could have a shower together, I could wash you up?” you offered as you kissed his shoulder blade, but Bo wasn’t in the mood today. He was overwhelmed with all the chores and work he had to do, and he was almost hoping there wouldn’t be any tourists today because he already had a lot of cars, windows and houses to fix after the last ones.

“Leave me alone” he said and he pushed you away again.

“But Bo…” you whimpered

“What?” he snapped, anger quickly rising inside of him

“I’ve been missing you…” you replied with a pout on your face

“Oh yeah? Well ya know what, all this work gives me some fuckin' peace! I just can’t with your neediness and clinginess all the damn time” he spat and you felt your heart breaking at those words. He was slicing deep into your worst and hidden insecurities. You always thought you were too much for people to enjoy, and to hear it from Bo’s mouth was worse than being slapped across the face. You looked down.

“I’m sorry, Bo, I’ll do better” you whispered because you loved the man and you wanted him to still love you.

“Ain’t givin’ a fuck, Y/N.” he said before grabbing his clothes and leaving for the shower.

You had no idea what to do. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t be that pathetic. You put some clothes on and you went downstairs to prepare breakfast. At least you could be a little bit useful, right?

You were cooking some pancakes when Vincent entered the room. You quietly greeted him and he could tell something was off, because you had been quite a ray of sunshine in Ambrose since you were there. He asked you if you were alright and you simply nodded. You thought you needed to shut up and to give Bo some space, and hopefully things would be back to normal soon. Vincent didn’t insist but he knew he would need to keep an eye on you. He was aware of how his twin had the talent to ruin what was making him happy.

Bo sat at the table without a word. And as you placed a plate in front of him, you accidentally knocked down his glass of orange juice that fell on the ground and broke. You silently cursed yourself and were about to kneel down to clean up when Bo grabbed your wrist and pushed you against the closest wall. You gasped at the rage swirling into his eyes.

“Ya’re fuckin’ useless, ya know that” he screamed at you and you felt tears rising up.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident” you replied “I’ll clean up, you can eat your pancakes” you continued

“Ya give me no order” he growled. “Didn’t even ask ya to put food in front of me. Who do ya think ya are, my mother?”

“I’m just trying to take care of you” you said and he started to laugh. It was a cold dry and menacing laughter that made you shiver.

“Because ya think I need you? Ya think any of us needs you? The only reason we didn’t kill ya was because I wanted to fuck ya. I fucked ya, and now what, hmm? Honestly, nothin' to go back to” he added and Vincent got up and put a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. He knew that his twin was lying and the way you were starting to silently cry was quite upsetting. Bo moved from his touch but he let you go too. You had no idea what to do. It was the first time Bo was vicious and cruel with you. You needed to busy yourself to not let his poison completely break your heart. You were about to clean up the mess you did once again.

“Oh my god, just go” Bo cringed as he didn’t want to see you come closer again.

“Let me remove the glass pieces and I’ll go” you promised, as you were worried anyone would get hurt because of the glass. Lester might come home soon with Jonesy too and you didn’t want her to hurt her little paws.

“Fuckin’ LEAVE!” he screamed this time and you froze. Vincent tried to reach for you and bring you away from Bo before his twin could say something he would regret later on. “Leave this fuckin’ room! No ya no what, leave this fuckin’ house and never come back! I’m so done with ya, I don’t need ya, no one needs ya, no one loves ya and ya need to get the fuck out of Ambrose!” he yelled again as he threw the plate of pancakes on the ground too. You jumped and before Vincent could stop you, you ran away.

Your vision was blurry because of the tears. You couldn’t stop crying. You couldn’t think either, emotions swirling inside your heart and negative thoughts swirling inside your head. You rarely felt so bad. You ran for quite a while until you collapsed on the ground. You slightly hurt your knees and palms but you didn’t notice. You cried even more, until there was no tear left. You took a deep breath and looked behind you. The house was far away now, but you weren’t outside of Ambrose yet.

The thing was you had no idea where to go. Ambrose had become your home and you had left your previous life without any hesitation. You enjoyed living with dangerous people, you liked their way of life and you found the murders very hot and arousing. You were a missing person in the real world, and if you came back to your old life, you would have to tell about the Sinclairs, and you would then need to go back to this boring and mediocre existence. You didn’t want that, but Bo made it clear he didn’t want you anymore. You weren’t too sure what to do, so you decided to wait and to rest in one of the last houses of the town. The twins rarely went there, and it would give you some time to determine what to do.

You opened the front door and sneezed at all the dust and cobwebs lying around. At least, you should be safe here. You found a room upstairs and settled there. You got rid of some of the dust and you sat on the bed. There was a wax statue there, with you and you took some comfort in the presence. It wasn’t the best of Vincent’s creations, hence why it was there (you could tell Vincent had to put the members back on the body and it had been quite hard to do so). But at least you felt home and not completely alone.

You napped a little for the day to go through and then you explored the house. You found some old books and little boxes with jewels inside. You were certain the boys didn’t know about this, and it gave you the idea to explore more of the abandoned houses… Until you remembered Bo wanted you out of town. You tried to not start crying again. Your attention was soon somewhere else as you heard gunshots. You sighted as you understood more tourists came today. You hoped the boys would be fine, and wouldn’t get hurt because you wouldn’t be there to take care of them, like you usually did. You also hoped no one would find you there; it would be stupid to get killed now. At the same time, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stay hidden in this house forever, and you weren’t sure you would be able to get back to a more normal life.

Maybe you should get killed, actually. But life could be so fun too.. If only Bo wanted you back, even if you were getting quite angry at him for the way he talked to you as well.

You continued to listen to everything happening in the town and until late in the afternoon you heard screams and the usual hunt noises. The sun was slowly going down when the silence came back in town, and it seemed the boys had been able to get rid of the tourists pretty fast this time. You were glad for them, hopefully it meant the boys hadn’t been injured and the tourists hadn’t ruined more stuff in town; Bo had already his hands full.

You sighed as your attention was back, one more time on your current situation. You still didn’t know what to do. Finally you tried to get some more rest because your brain just couldn’t think about what to do.

And you slept like a rock, as all the emotions took their toll on you.

You missed the three men calling your name in the silence of the ghost town, far away from where you were. You missed the worry creeping in the more they called for you. You missed the phone calls too, because you forgot your phone at the house and when Bo found it, he cursed even more.

As you were sleeping your worries and troubles away, Bo was sitting on his armchair, waiting for the front door to open. He had told his brothers that you were going to come back home on your own, and that it was not necessary to look any more for you. Vincent and Lester insisted but he refused, too proud to admit he was concerned. You were smart and independant but, at the same time, you needed him so much that soon enough you would come back. And you loved him enough to know he didn’t mean what he told you this morning.

It was what he was repeating himself to keep calm.

The truth was that he couldn't focus on the TV because his attention was on the front door, and that he couldn't even drink his beer because his throat was tight. He was silently cursing himself for having fucked this up so badly. You were one of the rare good things that happened in his life, and maybe you were gone forever now. No, no, that was impossible because you were soulmates. You weren’t saying “I love you” to each other very often, but you truly adored each other. Bo knew he was going to propose to you one day because he couldn’t imagine getting back to a life without you. He promised himself he would be better if… no, once you would be back home. This wouldn’t happen again, because he wasn’t the monster his father said he was, because he needed you, because he also had been madly missing you lately - and even more today - but he hated how weak his love made him feel.

However, after midnight, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to lose his mind if you didn’t come back home now. He got Vincent from the basement and called Lester who was about to come back to his own house. His brothers were quick to help find you, because they liked you, but also because they didn’t want to scrape Bo off the ground if they realised you were truly gone.

The three men started to look for you and they hoped you were still inside of Ambrose, in one of the houses or somewhere close by. They also hoped that no tourist found you, and that you were all safe and sound somewhere hidden. They had turned on all the lights and were screaming your name. Bo was the loudest, and he was slowly starting to really panic. He couldn't stand the idea he might have lost you. He just wanted you back in his arms and to go to sleep with you.

You didn’t plan on sleeping so much, completely unaware of the circus that was happening in town. You woke up to a soft scratching sound on the bedroom door. You didn’t understand what it was at first. Actually, you woke up completely lost and confused. It was about 4 am now, and you were disoriented. You needed some time to remember you were in an abandoned house because of a very bad argument with Bo. You sat up, and looked around the room, trying to analyse your surroundings. After a little while, you heard a dog gently whining and you got up to open the bedroom door. Jonesy bolted inside the room and you giggled. You knelt in front of her and hugged her for comfort.

“Such a good girl you are, you found me!” You praised her as she licked at your cheek. You hugged her more tightly and you closed your eyes. “You’re the only one who wants to find me” you sadly whispered and she cutely barked at you to tell you it wasn’t true!

It was then you heard your name being called and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh they’re looking for me?” you asked as Jonesy sat up. You, on the other hand, got up to look through the window. You blinked at the vivid lights and when your eyes started to get used to the brightness, you saw the Sinclairs looking for you. You couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. It brought you some peace and relief to know you were still loved by your family. You straightened up your clothes and left the room, Jonesy on your heels. She wasn’t going to let you out of her line of vision, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

You walked closer to the Sinclair house before answering their calls.

“I’m here!” you cried out and when Bo found out where your voice was coming from, he rushed to you. Before you knew it, you were in his arms. He tightly hugged you against his chest, stroking your back and taking into your scent. He was so relieved.

“Thank God” he whispered to himself but you heard him.

You hugged him back, but you were still hurt by what he yelled at you earlier, and you weren’t going to forget about all the things he said so easily. However, you let him bring you home without a fight. Vincent and Lester hugged you as well and asked you where you were. You answered as Bo sat you down to check on you. He disinfected your little wounds on your knees and palms before putting band-aids on them as he listened to you. They all were glad you stayed close by. You let Bo take care of you without a comment and you didn’t dare to look at him for too long. You weren’t too sure what his mood was right now, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to take any more yelling at. Lester waited for Bo to be done to gently kiss your cheek and greeted you a goodnight. Jonesy refused to follow him and she stayed by your side like a true guard dog. You petted her head and cooed down at her for being such a good girl to you. Vincent sent a look at his twin, to silently tell him he should apologise to you. Bo scoffed and it made you look back at him with a raised eyebrow; you had missed the way the twins had looked at each other and didn’t understand what he was scoffing at. You were feeling insecure enough to believe it was at you. Bo tried to reassuringly smile at you before gesturing for his twin to leave the room. Vincent also kissed your cheek and reluctantly left. He went to his basement but his attention was on Bo and you as he was ready to intervene if things would go wrong once again.

“Time to go to sleep” Bo hummed and you were quite annoyed at the man for trying to pretend nothing happened today.

“Not tired for the moment and then gonna sleep on the couch,” you replied. He frowned at that and reached for your hips.

“Why that?” he asked and it was your turn to scoff

“So what, we’re gonna pretend nothing happened? Look, I'm here because Ambrose is my home… and because no matter what, I love you… But I can’t pretend I didn’t hear what you said today. I’m sorry I’m clingy and needy and not a good enough fuck for you…” you said before he cut you

“Ya know I didn’t mean any of this” he whispered as he brought you closer to him. He looked for your eyes but you turned your head to the side. He cupped your chin to force your eyes to lock with his. “Ya mad at me?” he asked and you shrugged. "Baby?" he insisted

“Ain’t really mad right now… I’m mostly hurt” you replied “I just wanted cuddles this morning. I know you’re busy but it was unfair of you to treat me that way”

“Yes, it was. What can I do to make it to ya, hmm? Too late to cuddle?” he gently smiled as his hands stroked your hip bone and cheek. You had to fight the urge to lean against his touch.

“Tell me you’re sorry, that you love me, that it won’t happen again.” you said and he nodded

“‘Course I love ya. Ya know I’m an asshole when I’m in a bad mood… but I’d go crazy if ya ever left me. I’m so relieved ya home. I’ll do better.” he replied

“So everything you said…”

“Nothin’, lies. I love ya need and want me that bad, because I… do need ya too. Ya make me happy. Do I make ya happy?” he asked as he rested his forehead against yours, both his hands cupping your face now.

“Not when you’re mean to me” you whimpered

“Won’t happen again. I promise, did I ever break a promise I made to you?” he continued

“No… but you’re a sweet talker with your southern charm… How can I be sure you mean what you’re saying now?”

“Because I want us to get married”

You stared at him in pure surprise. You knew the man was a family one, so the fact he wanted you to be officially part of it was a big proof of love.

“You’re serious?” you asked

“I wanna wake up with ya in my arms for the rest of my life, and I wanna listen to your pretty voice everyday, and I wanna pleasure ya and treat you like you deserve to be. I’m a shitty boyfriend, but I’ll be a good husband, ya know that.”

“I know that” you smiled

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

@g0thl3zz

@erasable-mustache

@cavern-creature

@peachycupotea

@p0rn-stargirl

@akemiixx01

@zebralover

#bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax x y/n #house of wax x reader #house of wax x you #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

369 notes · View notes

queercoshon · 5 months

Text

I wrote another thing! This one has been in the works for a while. It is also posted on my deviantart. It's a little bit softer than the usual content I post. As always, please feel free to leave suggestions/ideas

‐------------

When I first moved into your spare room, I was definitely on the smaller side. Adult life had bulldozed me, and I learned quick meals and protein bars were the easiest way for me to eat. If I had to make something more complicated, chances are I would just forget to eat entirely.

You, on the other hand, loved to cook, bake, and create different cocktails. Every overindulgence in the past few years showed on your body, curves cascading down your back and flaring at your hips, and your belly often hanging over the waistband of your pants.

You quickly picked up on my food habits, and were quite frankly appalled.

"How can you not love food? Every flavour, every texture? Food is art to me. Have you had good food before?"

I shrugged, because, no, not really. My experience with food thus far had been boxed pastas, cans of soups and chilis, whatever frozen meals were on sale, and various boxed snacks. Eating them didn't bring me a fraction of the joy you got just from talking about food.

Thus began your mission of making me fall in love with at least one dish.

You really could have stopped at the first dish. The leek and potato stew blew my mind. I had never had leeks and found potatoes flavourless mush. But somehow you managed to make such mundane ingredients into a symphonious dish, tastes layering over one another. I could not get enough. The warmth spread from my stomach to encompass my body, and in my cozy bliss I just kept eating, chasing the high of this delectable experience.

I had eaten so much my stomach didn't even slosh when I painstakenly got up from the table.

Your first success spurred you into overdrive. You sought different flavour profiles and combinations, testing to see which ones would make me melt. Most of them did.

Most days I was coming home to the scent of dinner leading me down the hall, with an underlying sweetness hinting at dessert.

You tried a wide range of cuisines. Pot pies, various proteins with rice and veggies, curries from all around the world, and so many different types of pasta. Desserts include cobblers, doughnuts, pies, cakes, and a variety of pastries. I could not believe how much flavour was in everything, and was desperate to get as much of it as possible. Every meal ended with me breathing shallowly, hand caressing my overburdened gut, and you with a satisfied smirk on your face.

With your increase in cooking came your increase in eating. Slowly your body started to billow outward, filling out all your clothes, finally forcing you to look at specialty stores to restock.

My weight gain was not so slow. My body was so used to running on minimal to average calories, it didn't know what to do with the sudden influx, now having to process at least twice what I used to eat in a day.

The first place it was noticable was my gut. It only took a week or two before I had a cute little pot belly. It would push open the buttons on my shirt, and cause issues when buttoning my pants. The rest of my body followed suit. My thighs and ass started to swell, my arms felt constricted in my t-shirts, and a double chin was quickly noticable. I barely noticed. I was so caught up in a whirlwind of culinary pleasure that I paid no mind to my tightening waistbands and my gut starting to peak out of my shirt.

Soon you started cooking breakfast, too. The table would be covered in food, from pancakes to bacon, hashbrowns to quiche. Each day there was something different, and each day I gorged until nearly comatose.

Eating like this every day rapidly changed my body, I had put on 100lbs in 11 months, from the first time you made that stew. I had upgraded my wardrobe 4 times, and was needing to again soon.

And then is was December. The month of overindulgence. Holiday parties every weekend. Potlucks, cocktail parties, hearty meals, sometimes multiple events in the same day.

This was the first time I truly appreciated food; the tastes, the textures, and the stories behind each dish. I tried everything, and then I tried everything again. Most nights I struggled to waddle from the car to my bed. On the rare occasions I wasn't fit to burst, you sat me down on the couch and made me try your creations for the next party. On those nights, I was bound to pass out in the living room, eyes glazed over, gut too stuffed to think about getting up.

Despite all the socializing and gatherings, Christmas day was quiet, just the two of us. I didn't want to fly across the country to see my few relatives, and you were going to do a late holiday dinner with your family at the end of January, when work slowed down for your parents.

I received two sets of pajamas that year. One from you, plaid pants and a red flannel top. It was a little big, but we both knew that wouldn't be the case for long. The other pair I got was from a childhood friend I hadn't seen in person in over 2 years. The pants were baby blue with snowflakes, and the tank top had a cheesy graphic and the phrase "Let it Snow!"

When you went to go work on the feast planned for the day, I tried the second pair of pajamas on. Despite being incredibly stretchy, I could barely get the pants past my thighs. My ass was hanging out the back, and the drawstrings were instantly lost in the waistband. The graphic on the shirt was horrendously distorted, and I could feel a breeze on the bottom of my belly. I was about to change back into the first pair of pjs when you called me for Christmas meal. My mind now only focused on one thing, I stopped what I was doing and lumbered to the table.

You called it Christmas Meal, because it was past noon, but well before dinner time. With the amount of food you made though, we could be there well into the night. There was the traditional fixings; turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, honey roasted carrots, sweet potato casserole, and dinner rolls, but you also added a baked ziti dish, homemade pizza rolls, and cottage pie. Bottles of wine, apple cider, and sparking water lined the middle of the table. There was enough food for 10 people, and we were just 2. I could smell desserts being baked to perfection in the other room.

"This looks amazing! I've never had anything like this. I'm sorry I couldn't help..."

You patted my stomach and laughed. "The only help I need is getting it all eaten. Load up and dig in!"

I piled my plate high with everything I could fit. It would take me at least 2 plates to try everything, probably 3 with the portion sizes I was taking. I looked over, and saw your plate faced the same overburdened fate as mine.

You ladled me a generous glass of mulled wine from the crock pot.

"Cheers!"

And then we fell into a frenzied silence, only the cacophony of two gluttons enjoying a sinfully indulgent feast, and the tv still playing Christmas special reruns in the other room made noise in our tiny apartment.

I still don't know how you did it, but every bite I took had me holding back a moan.

My family had attempted to make a turkey once in my life, and it resulted in a tasteless hunk of disappointment, the bird so dried out that the white meat was somehow pointy and sharp. The one you made was opposite to everything I expected. It was nearly falling apart in my mouth, the seasoning from the brine and rub made it to every bite. Different levels of flavours washed over me, and my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head.

Every dish you made was like this. Some of them I had equally dismal expectations of, like the green beans, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, and pizza rolls, all things my family had made sacrilege of once. Everything else I either hadn't had, or only had store bought. Even the best store bought ziti bake didn't come close to yours.

I was put into a trance. There was not a moment where I was still, constantly chewing, swallowing, and reaching for the next bite. Everything was washed down with copious amounts of wine and cider.

My shirt was pushed up by my rounding gut, bunched up under my chest by the end of the 3rd plate, my cheeks were warm, and every gurgle my belly let out just pushed me to eat more.

Your clothes had given up containing your belly. It sat naked on full display, hanging out of your defeated shirt, pushing your thighs apart as it sank further. You were absent-mindedly rubbing the crest of your gut as you shoved another role in your mouth. I poured the last of the 2nd bottle of wine in your glass, and popped open the 3rd to serve myself.

It wasn't until just after starting my 7th plate that I realised how overstuffed I was. It all hit me at once, the bottom of my belly itching as my skin stretched around my stomach swelling forward, my breathe shallow and pained, my lungs given no room to expand, pushing out a burp with every other gasp of air. I couldn't lean back without getting a stitch.

You were in a similar state. Hiccups jolting your body shaking out burps, your hands gingerly massaging your gut which was red and almost shiny.

I don't know how long we sat there, just rubbing our guts and moaning. There was still food left, but maybe enough for 1 averaged-sized meal for both of us. Everything else was crammed into our bellies.

Firmly drunk now, the sensation of rubbing my belly was sending sparks along all my nerves. Between that and riding the high of the first Christmas meal I had ever enjoyed, I was lost in my own little world of bliss.

A harsh timer bell going off in the kitchen jolted me out of my stupor, unleashing a string of burps and a new bout of hiccups. You groaned as you got up, supporting your back and belly like you were 9 months pregnant.

You looked at me with a wine-soaked grin.

"Ready for dessert?"

#queer feedism #feedism story #intox wg #soft feedism #stuffing literature #mutual stuffing #mutual gaining #stuffed fatty

85 notes · View notes

mimi-ya · 2 years

Text

jealous-er ~ portgas d. ace x reader

3,200 words | no pronouns used

summary: jealously runs in the family

masterlist | part 1 | part 3

previous part

“Mhmm.” Lips press against your bare shoulder, trailing up your neck until a warm breath blows over your ear, “Good mornin’, beautiful.”

A smile forms on your face without even opening your eyes. Stretching your arms above your head and curling your toes, you can feel a few joints pop in relief.

Eyes fluttering open you’re greeted with the sight of Ace hovering over you. Disheveled hair and a glean in his eyes.

“Mornin’.” You mumble, pursing your lips. Ace immediately takes the hint, pressing his mouth to yours.

The bed groans as he shifts his weight onto your body, warm hands sneaking under the shirt he leant you last night.

“Sleep well?” He asks against your lips.

“Hmm.” Your hands tangle into his thick hair, “Didn’t sleep much.”

“Oh?” Ace pulls back with a smirk, “Bed not comfy enough?”

“Might be too comfortable.” You shoot back as your leg wraps around his waist to pull him closer to you, “I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

You laugh to yourself as Ace tries to keep is composure, clearing his throat, “That can be arranged.”

But before you can tease him any further, something interrupts the moment.

Or someone.

“Aceeeee!” A scream cuts through the air just before the door bangs open, “Ace! Ace! Ace!”

“Luffy!” Ace squeaks, nearly collapsing his entire body on top of you and bringing a blanket around your forms, “Wha- what are you doing?!”

“I’m hungry!” He whines.

“Then go find Sabo!”

“He had to go to work.” Luffy says sadly, but then perks up, “But he said you would make me pancakes!”

“Did he now?” Ace growls.

Luffy smiles brightly, “Yep! Sabo said you got lots of breakfast food because you’re, uhm, presumptuous.” He sounds out, “Hey Ace? What’s that mean?”

You almost blow your cover with the snort that escapes, spotting the red blush Ace is battling on his cheeks.

“It means I knew you’d be hungry.” Ace growls, thinking through all the ways he was going to maim Sabo later, “How about you go wash your hands and I’ll be right out, okay?”

“Alright!” Luffy says happily and runs out of room.

Ace mutters something under his breath before glancing back to you with a meek stare.

“Presumptuous?” You raise a brow, “I think that’s the biggest word he’s ever said.”

“Glad this could be a teaching moment for him.” Ace deadpans.

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair, “Well, presumptuous or not, I do like pancakes.”

“But uhh.” Ace’s eyes shift to the door and back, “How we gonna explain this to Luffy.”

“I’ll slip around.” You shrug, “He’s definitely not washing his hands. You help and I’ll go out to the kitchen.”

“Sneaky.” Ace nips at your lips, trying to slip his tongue against yours.

“Mhmm!” Your hand slaps on his shoulder, “Go! Before he comes back!”

Ace lets out a long sigh, like disentangling from you is the worst thing he’s ever had to do, “Alright, alright, no need to get violent on me.”

But his words go one ear and out the other, mind more interested with the very pleasant view he’s offered you instead.

A sight you intend to become more familiar with if last night was anything to go by.

“Quit starin’.” Ace throws your pants at you, a blush erupted across his face.

You push the fabric off your head, pouting when you see the sight’s been stolen by a pair of sweatpants resting dangerously low on his hips.

“Can you blame me?” You ask, “Didn’t get to see much last night.”

Which isn’t a total lie. You saw Ace plenty last night. Saw him in the candlelight of the cute bistro he took you to. Saw him as you walked hand in hand through the park that led back to his apartment. Saw him under the flickering light of his apartment when you asked if he was going to invite you in or not.

And that’s when things got a little dark. Literally.

It was well past Luffy’s bedtime, even later past Sabo’s, meaning the two of you had to be quiet and not bring any unnecessary attention to yourselves. Which unfortunately included the lights.

You did get your fill of feeling every inch of Ace’s broad shoulders and hard stomach. Not to mention his thick c-

“Let’s go!” Ace claps his hands in front of you, startling you from your thoughts, “This won’t work if you’re still sitting in here!”

“I’m comin!” You grumble, pushing him away so you can slide out from under the covers. And by the time you’ve popped your head out of the fresh shirt left for your on the edge of his bed you can hear the two arguing in the hall.

“Luffy! Let’s wash those paws!”

“I already washed them!”

“Get back here, you little liar!” Ace yells, followed by a scuffle and a screech, “Gotcha!”

The sound of water running reaches your ears as you slip out the door, tip toeing to the kitchen.

Being Luffy’s sitter means spending an exuberant amount of time in the kitchen to cook for the bottomless pit. You’ve learned your way around, making it easy to pull out the necessary materials for pancakes.

And Luffy wasn’t lying when he said Ace was being presumptions.

Eggs, bacon, muffins, sausage, cereal, biscuits, every kind of juice imaginable.

It makes your heart stutter a bit to know the lengths Ace planned on going to make the morning just as enjoyable as the night.

“(Y/N)!?” Luffy screams, “Whatdya doin’ here!”

You smile looking back at the little boy who has burst into the kitchen, a little too much water on the front of his shirt for someone who was only washing his hands.

“I heard there were pancakes.” You bop his nose with your finger.

Luffy laughs brightly, trying unsuccessfully to catch your hand, “Did Sabo tell you, too?”

Ace slides into the kitchen with a raised brow, but you ignore him to focus on the boy in front of you, “Hey Luf, how ‘bout you help me crack the eggs?”

“Okay!” He cheers, always excited to help when it comes to breaking something.

You’re distracted helping Luffy onto the stool that you miss Ace coming up behind you. Not too close that it’s indecent, but close enough to be a little distracting.

“Looks good.” Ace mutters, low enough for only you to catch and you’re pretty sure he isn’t talking about the pancakes.

“Here.” You slam a measuring cup into his chest, and in tandem forcing him to take a step back, “How about you measure out some flour?”

Ace shoots you an easy grin and a wink, as if he can see right through your fluster.

“Can I put blueberries in my pancakes?” Luffy asks.

Clearing your throat, you turn back to Luffy, “I don’t see why not!”

A dozen pancakes later and some misplaced flour on your cheek, you’re settling into your seat when Ace quickly slides into the space next to you before Luffy can.

“Hey!” Luffy cries, “That’s my spot!”

“I don’t see you’re name on it.” Ace teases, sticking his tongue out.

You giggle into your orange juice, waiting for Luffy to do something equally as silly, but instead he clenches his little fists and sets the meanest glare on Ace you’ve ever seen.

“Hey now.” You butt in, noticing the change in the air, “How about you over here.” You motion to your other side.

“Fine.” Luffy spits, still frowning as he climbs up the chair beside you.

There’s an awkwardness that falls over the table as Luffy stabs a fork into his pancake, and even Ace isn’t eating with his usual gusto as he keeps sending his little brother concerned looks.

“What if we went to the park today?” You offer, “Luffy, you could show Ace how high you can jump off the swing?”

“I can jump higher than Ace can.” Luffy tells you.

The man in question raises a brow, “Wanna bet?”

“I can!” Luffy says with childish determination.

“How about you get dressed and we can head over?” You offer.

“Okay!” Luffy shoves the rest of his pancake into his mouth and sprints into his room.

With an eye roll you collect his plate and take it to the kitchen, Ace following behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” Ace mutters, joining beside you at the sink to rinse the dishes.

“Probably an annoying older brother.” You bump your hip against his.

“Nah.” A corner of his mouth lifting, “I think that’s what got into you.”

“Ace!” You whisper scandalized, quickly looking over your shoulder to make sure the two of you are alone, “You’re such a-”

But the words die on your lips when you turn back and find Ace much closer in your space, “A what?” He drawls, eyes focused on your lips.

“Hey!” Luffy’s voice spurs you and Ace to jump back as if burned, quickly spinning to find him standing in the entry with arms crossed.

Ace turns off the faucet, hand brushing against your arm, “Ready to go, bud?” His voice completely devoid of any fluster that you’re sure would be in yours.

The walk to the park is quick, and Luffy insists on holding your hand the entire way. Even going as far to turn down Ace’s offer for a piggyback ride.

And it doesn’t stop there.

Luffy only lets you push him on the swing. Only wants you to climb the jungle gym with him. Only calls to you to show how fast he can get down the slide.

It doesn’t bother Ace. Not in the least. Totally unaffected.

“Hey.” You nudge his shoulder and settling beside him on the bench. Only finally getting a rest when Luffy chased after the two older boys who seemed to want nothing to do with him, “You know he loves you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ace grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

You fondly roll your eyes, “It’s probably just teenage angst.”

“At eight?” Ace says a little doubtfully.

With a giggle you press a kiss to his cheek, unable to hold back, “I’m sure you and Sabo were worse.”

Ace opens and closes his mouth like a gapping fish, blushing dusting his cheek as he looks at you with wide eyes.

You quirk a brow, placing an arm around the back of the bench, fingers dragging across his shoulders.

He finally meets your gaze with a small smile.

“I’m gonna be king of the pirates!”

Ace and your heads swivel in the direction of what is clearly Luffy’s scream.

“Well shit.” Ace grunts, watching as his brother whacks the two boys with a stick. The red head trying to fight back while the one with the black and white spotted hat looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Maybe we should head out?”

“They told me I couldn’t be a pirate!” Luffy stomps his foot, “But you said I could be anything I want!”

“That’s true my little pirate king.” You pat Luffy’s puffed out cheek, “But it’s not nice to hurt other people, okay?”

Ace kneels down, “And it’s important to say sorry.” But Luffy quickly turns away, still giving his brother the cold shoulder, “If you say sorry, we can get pizza for lunch.”

Luffy’s arms drop to his side, giving Ace an appraising stare before sprinting back to the two boys.

“Kind of seems like you’re rewarding his bad behavior.”

Ace shrugs, “Ah, he’s already a lost cause.”

You can see Luffy is saying something to the other boys, although when they start shouting expletives you’re not sure Luffy even knows, you doubt the authenticity of the apology.

“Little shit.” Ace mutters when Luffy comes running back, having to dodge a couple of rocks on the way.

“Done!” Luffy gives you a blinding smile, “Can we have pizza now?”

You sigh, looking over to Ace who just shrugs, “I’ll go pick one up and meet you at home?”

“Sounds good.” You answer, already helping Luffy into your arms who’s whining about being too tired to walk.

Ace presses a quick kiss to your lips and ruffles Luffy’s hair, “Be good.” And then walks off in the direction of the local pizzeria.

As if he didn’t even notice what he just did. But you noticed.

And Luffy sure as hell did as his mouth forms into a deep frown and he buries his face into your neck.

A vibration in your pocket lets you know you just got a text. But it’s impossible to check with Luffy in your arms, who refuses to engage in any conversation the entire way home.

And he quickly runs to his bedroom when you set him on the floor.

With a sigh you pull your phone out, seeing the ping is from Ace.

Ace: that was an accident

(Y/N): No shit

The text bubble pops up immediately,

Ace: did luf say anything?

No, you think to yourself. He didn’t say anything and that might have been the problem.

“(Y/N)?”

The small voice startles you and you look up to see Luffy peaking around the corner of the hallway.

Tucking your phone away you give him your full attention, “Yes, Luffy?”

He looks like he’s weighing his options, a finger wedged between his teeth, “You’re not gonna be Ace’s babysitter, are you?”

Any other day the question would make you burst out laughing but looking down at Luffy you see he’s starring back at you with wide tearful eyes.

You take a tentative step towards him, asking softly “Now why would you think that?”

And it’s like the question opens the flood gates because fat tears start streaming down Luffy’s face, hiccups breaking up his words, “Be- because you l- like him more than me!” Luffy ends in a wail, “And you want to his babysitter and not mine!”

“Oh Luffy.” You open your arms, and he sprints towards you to bury himself into your chest, words muffled into your shirt. Your hand rubs his back in soothing circles, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Luffy rips his head back, snot covering his lip, “And Ace still pees his bed! I don’t pee my bed!”

“Luffy.” Your hands cup his cheeks, wiping the tears from his lash line, “You don’t need to worry about Ace, I only want to baby sit you.”

“Really?” He sniffs.

“Of course!” You nod your head, “You’re the pirate king! There’s no one I’d rather spend the afternoons with.”

“I don’t want a different babysitter.”

“Well good. Because I’m not going anywhere.” You wrap your arms around his body, pulling him back in for a hug and he immediately tightens his arms around your neck.

You hold onto him for a bit, rocking on your knees as his cries quiet to whimpers to silence.

“Hey.” You whisper into his ear, “Want to build a blanket fort before Ace gets back?”

“Can we eat the pizza in there?”

You smile, brushing down his hair, “Promise not to spill?”

“I don’t spill!” Luffy stomps his foot and you’re glad to see his personality returning.

“Alright, alright!” You stand up, leading Luffy to the living room, “Get to it!”

While Luffy starts to tear apart the couch you take a quick second to text Ace.

(Y/N): all good here :)

After you assist Luffy construct the fort, the two of you crawl underneath arranging the pillows and blankets just right according to Luffy.

While you’re setting up the computer to play his favorite movie, the front door opens.

“Hello?” Ace calls out, “Anyone here?”

Your eyes quickly dart to Luffy, and you mischievously press a finger to you lip singling him to keep quiet. But instead of the barely contained giggles he usually has to hold back when you try to play a trick, there’s a frown on his little face with narrowed eyes.

“Hey.” You whisper, grabbing his hand, “What’s wrong?”

Luffy rips his hand away, crossing his arms, “I don’t want him in our fort.” It’s clear Luffy is still feeling a little protective of you, but you know the best way to get through to him.

“But Ace has the pizza.”

He immediately wavers, realization dawning, even further when Ace calls out;

“Guess I’ll have to eat this pizza all on my own!”

An intense battle plays out in Luffy’s head, debating being having to share you or forgo pizza.

“Hey.” You get his attention, “How about you sit in the middle that way we can be together and you get to hold the pizza?”

“Okay!” His eyes light up, head nodding quickly.

“You stay here.” You pat his cheek, crawling out of the fort.

“Finally!” Ace calls, smiling when he sees you, “I didn’t think I’d be able to finish this all on my own.”

“Yeah right.” You tease, helping grab some plates from the cabinet, “Pirate King Luffy has decided to allow you into our fort.” You declare loudly, giggles coming from the fort in response.

“If the king declares it, then so be it.” Ace snarks back, following you into the kitchen, “Hey.” Ace whispers, a hand resting on your hip, “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be good, just takes after his brother a bit too much.” You wink, thinking back to Ace’s jealous tendencies you heard all about from Luffy.

“Knew Sabo was rubbing off on ‘em.”

“Oh, shut up!” You slap Ace’s chest, but he quickly grabs your fingers. Bringing them to his mouth with a gentle kiss of your knuckles.

“Hey!” Luffy shouts from the living room, “I’m hungry!”

Ace quickly presses a kiss to your knuckles before dropping your hand, “Coming your majesty!”

After the movie is done playing and the fort has been taken down, the three of you collapse onto the couch. Luffy leaning against your side with his feet in Ace’s lap.

“Did you have fun today Luf?” Ace asks.

“Yeah.” He mumbles, eyes drooping., “I’m tired.”

Ace shoots you a heated glance and you get the picture quickly with a grin of your own.

That is until a door bangs open, being interrupted by a brother for the second time that day.

“Any left for me?” Sabo calls, immediately smelling something good in the air. He strolls into the living room and giving both of his brothers a flick on the forehead.

“Watch it!” Ace smacks at his hand, “And no! Not if you’re gonna be an ass the second you get home!”

“Yeah!” Luffy chimes in, suddenly awake and with the first solidarity he’s shown Ace all day, “Ass!”

“Luffy.” You scold with a glare shot in Ace’s direction, “And yes Sabo. I put some in the fridge before these two could devour it all.”

“You did?” Both Ace and Luffy ask outrageously, as if they’ve been gravely betrayed.

“This is why you’re my favorite, (Y/N)!” Sabo calls from the kitchen.

“Love you too!” You laugh, not noticing the way the two brothers on the couch freeze at your words.

Luffy’s and Ace’s eyes quickly meet, and unbeknown to you, an unlikely alliance is formed.

next part

#portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader

2K notes · View notes

plainemmanem · 2 years

Note

hungover steve lol

he’s so grumpy and hot actually

like maybe you convince him to go out for breakfast the next morning because “a good breakfast can cure a hangover” and he’s like fine. so you drive there — in complete silence, no radio no nothing — and you get to the diner and he wears his sunglasses the whole time and he’s in his most comfortable pair of jeans and a crew neck with a little white shirt underneath, and he looks so wrecked. still so hot, but so wrecked. and when the waitress comes he grabs her arm like “before you say anything— i’m so sorry — can you please just bring like. a vat. of coffee. for the table. thanks so much uh” *checks the name tag* “uh brenda🙂” and then the second she walks away his head is in his hands and he’s rubbing at his eyebrows and his temples and he’s reaching out blindly for your hand next to him in the booth and you give it to him with a little chuckle like “steve you don’t even drink coffee” and he’s like “this morning, i drink coffee.” and you giggle a little loudly because you’ve quite literally never seen him in such a state, and he smiles a little at your laugh and immediately winces like “sweetheart, you know i love you, but we need to use our inside voices ok?” and you’re like “right right sorry” and he holds your hand the entire time until the food comes and his leg is jumping under the table, all impatient, and his thumb is sweeping over your knuckles as he’s guzzling down his coffee, black. and when the food comes, he’s immediately eating like he hasn’t had a meal in weeks. and you’re laughing at him like “a little hungry, harrington?” and he’s like “drink your juice.” and as you eat you try to make light conversation with him, but he stops you as he leans over to you with a mouthful of pancakes and syrup on his lips, and he pecks your temple like “just give me like five more minutes, honey, then i can hold conversation.” and once you’re finally done eating he’s like “ok i’m back, and a lot more pleasant than before, what were we talking about😁” and he pays the check and definitely tips brenda extra and makes a point to thank her on the way out<3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you

827 notes · View notes

little-annie · 3 months

Text

Tape N⁰1

---

Steddie | 4.6k 🔞

Read on ao3 ⤵️

---

Okay, so maybe Steve Harrington was a little, just a touch, Bi- Curious.

A term he'd learnt from Robin when he'd mentioned his curious thoughts from his teen years-

Everyone feels this way, right? Like, guys dream about other guys but also girls, so that's not gay, right? And it's totally normal to feel my heartbeat pick up when a man gets naked on TV, right? Everyone feels that way about Johnny Depp, he's a good looking guy.

-and she explained to him, quite simply, "Steve, honey, that's kinda gay." To which he responded with a simple "Huh," and then was instructed to maybe watch a gay porn and see how it makes him feel. He supposed it was the safest option anyway. Going out to a bar and picking up a guy could go wrong in more ways than one. He liked his face, thought it was quite pretty actually and didn't want to have it rearranged along with his brain for yet another time. At least with watching a tape, he was safe and not using another person for his self exploration. Well, like with porn that's what the actors expected and consented to upon filming. Right? So what's the harm?

—

Their morning was the usual, Steve waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go out for a run, getting home just in time to witness Eddie shuffling from the kitchen to the living room, settling onto the couch with his feet tucked beneath him, holding a large mug that contained probably a pound of sugar and a few dozen ounces of coffee. His hair was ungodly, smashed flat on one side and frizzy to all hell on the other. Always ringless and clad in simple grey sweatpants or sometimes just his boxers. The sight alone made Steve's stomach flutter, let alone the fact that he was the only person on the planet that got to witness Eddie in this form.

Sleepy and a touch grumpy because "Jesus H. Christ, Steve, close the damn blinds, it's too early for sunshine,” Eddie was never a morning person or for as long as Steve knew him anyway. The young metalhead getting out of bed and wanting pure silence and dim lighting to slowly ease him into the land of the living, plus needing a terrifying amount of caffeine and sugar to consider him a functional human being, maybe some people would think he was a dick in the morning but if Steve was honest with himself, he kinda loved it.

On the mornings where Eddie didn't come shuffling out of his room like a grumpy gremlin, maybe because he had a nightmare and couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake Steve up for the third time that week to climb into his bed for moral support, Steve would brew him a cup of coffee, make his favourite for breakfast (chocolate chip pancakes) and knock gently on his door, to say a quiet good morning and set the tray of goodies on the floor in front of Eddie's door for when he got up.

But this morning, the pair had some time for each other, a rare occurrence for their mornings. Steve's classes didn't start until 1pm and Eddie was up before he'd left. Steve drew the blinds closed, allowing only a gentle flow of sunshine to enter the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch before taking a chance to talk to Eddie before 9am.

Gently nudging the other man's thigh with his socked foot, Steve gained Eddie's attention, though his expression with something combined of a scowl and smile, like he was trying to keep up his grumpy morning routine but didn't entirely hate Steve.

"You sleep alright last night?"

The doe eyed man simply shook his head before he took a long sigh, slouching deeper into the couch and spoke, voice still gravely from sleep or more likely the lack of, "No, but I have to mail a few packages and actually have shit to do today, so here I am, amongst the living far too early for a man who only just fell asleep at 4am."

That wasn't totally out of the ordinary, Eddie was a bit of a night owl, but he looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and complexion somehow whiter than usual. "Nightmares?" Steve asked, knowing the answer was more likely than not a yes.

Eddie hummed an affirmative, taking another sip of his coffee and scowling out the window when he heard a car alarm outside begin to go off

"You know, if it still helps, you're always more than welcome to wake me up or join me. I don't mind. I'd rather lose a few minutes myself while you climb into bed versus you losing several hours." If anything, it made Steve's nights easier too, he still had nightmares but after years of coping with them on his own, he had a system down. Wake up, have a shower, maybe go for a walk and just start his day from there, as long as it was after 4 am anyway. But with Eddie by his side, he felt safe, hardly had nightmares when the man was in his bed and conscious of it or not, Eddie always seemed to know when they did occur. Rolling over in bed to pull Steve against his chest or carding his fingers through his hair.

But last time that happened, they woke up nothing short of tangled together, morning wood ever present and Eddie quite literally springing from bed upon the realisation. At first Steve was hurt, but like he kinda gets it now, he knows Eddie's gay, the guy probably felt guilty or something of that sort upon realising their predicament. But it's not like he knew Steve was (probably/ realising he was at the time) Bi-Sexual and honestly was kinda into the metalhead. Hell, if Steve woke up hard and cuddled into a friend he thought was straight, his reaction would probably be the same.

"Eddie I mean it,-" Steve persisted after receiving a noncommittal nod as an answer, "-if you're worried about last time,-" Eddie's gaze shifted to meet his once again, amber eyes hooded by dark thick lashes, a subtle blush creeping up the young man's cheeks, "- don't be, I didn't mind."

"You didn't mind," Eddie quietly scoffs, "-you didn't mind your raging homosexual of a roommate getting a stiffy in your bed? Ha, sure Harrington. Let alone it digging into your thigh?" He scoffs again, averting his eyes back to a random stain on the carpet in front of him, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks behind his coffee mug.

Shrugging, feigning confidence and totally not freaking out over his minor confession, Steve remains persistent, "Didn't mind it."

It was then that he watched Eddie's nose crinkle and brow furrow, an indecipherable look on his face that only grew more puzzling to understand as his eyes shifted back to meet Steve's. Almost like he was searching for something but wasn't quite sure what.

They remained silent for a few minutes, the ambient sound of the city bleeding through their brick walls and into their bones, the sound of coffee being sipped and shallow almost anxious breathing.

Then it occurred to Steve, if Eddie was going to be out this morning maybe he'd finally have time to watch one of those tapes Robin suggested. "Hey, um, wh- when are you gonna be back?"

Eddie hummed in question, taking a sip of his coffee, refusing to look at the man next to him.

"When will you be back? I uh, I could try to have lunch ready for you before I leave for class." Not that he wasn't asking an honest question, he was, he'd probably pop a frozen lasagna in the oven to be ready for when Eddie got home, but he also wanted to know how much time he had to himself for his 'research' while Eddie was out.

"Eleven, maybe." Eddie quietly spoke into his mug, downing the rest of his coffee, getting up and quietly padding back to the kitchen.

Before Eddie could disappear back into his room, Steve spoke up glancing at the stack of boxes piled by their front door, "Okay, well, I'll have something ready for lunch before I leave then. Hey, uh, you need some help getting those boxes down to your van?”

Eddie worked his jaw, seeming to consider the offer before drawing in a silent breath and waving Steve off with a flick of the wrist, "Don't you worry your pretty little head Harrington, I got it."

—

Twenty minutes later Eddie was making his way out the door, boxes in hand as he smiled and wished Steve a good rest of his morning.

And okay, so maybe the indication of how excited Steve was to watch those tapes should have been proof enough.

Perched by the window his heart hammered in his chest as he waited to watch Eddie drive off in his van. No more than seconds later did Steve find himself scrambling to his room, digging out the tape from under his bed and popping it into the VCR in the living room.

Much too eager to even take the extra few steps to the couch, Steve plopped down feet from the TV and sat crisscrossed, waiting for the tape to roll.

Whoever had the tape before (which ew, now that Steve thought about that, hopefully the guy washed his hands) neglected to rewind the tape and apparently so did the video store. Without much warning the deep growl of moans began to pour from the TV in front of him and a blur of bare, tanned, hairy skin danced across the TV. It took a moment for Steve to process what was actually happening, but at least he wasn't appalled so that meant something he guessed and the sound of a man's deep groan made his briefs tighten, but immediately he knew this specific tape wasn't for him. He supposed he didn't find the men attractive, they were good looking, sure, but cookie cutter and lacking anything that he'd consider to be unique, alluring. No tattoos, pricing, scarring. Nothing that set them apart from the rest he supposed.

With less reservation then he probably should have had, Steve popped the tape out and without a thought pushed to look back in his and Eddie's tape collection. Behind the mix of horror, action and rom-coms, Steve found Eddie's not so secret, secret stash of porn tapes.

Was this over stepping some boundary ... maybe… but Eddie was a gay man, supposedly one with taste so it couldn't hurt to look. Out of the handful of tapes, they were surprisingly similar to the one Steve just ejected. Tanned, muscular, hairy men, some in gym shorts or cropped sports jerseys, but there was one, unmarked black case and a sticky tab on the tape that read "N⁰. 1" . It was weird but weird had to mean something other than cookie cutter right?

So Steve popped the tape in.

Sitting on the floor in front of the TV, Steve watched as the static turned to a dark, poorly lit bedroom, the only light being that of a lamp covered with a hanky. The low droll of metal music played in the background, audible enough to drown out the steps of the man walking into the frame. He was hardly visible, the dark glow of the room set a beautiful cast of shadows over his toned back and mess of long dark curls.

Already Steve was intrigued, this tape had a set of mystery, darkness and need. He felt his heart hammer in his chest sending the blood rushing south and he hadn't even seen anything other than this man's backside. But what he had seen was breathtaking.

Yeah this would do.

Before he missed anything too important Steve checked the clock, he still had over an hour until Eddie got home. With more haste than necessary, he ran to his bedroom, retrieving a box of tissues and a bottle of lube. By the time he settled back on the floor in front of the TV, the man on the screen was laying on a bed, leaning back on his elbow as his one hand lazily stroked his generous length. Steve wished he could see the guy's face, wanted to watch his eyes and the twist of his lips as he let subtle gasps escape into the air, but the man's identity was hidden in the shadows. His lower abdomen to toes only visible in the frame.

Fucking good enough though.

Soon enough Steve mirrored the man's position, leaning back on an elbow, sweatpants wrangled just low enough to expose himself, heavily lubed hand matching the steady pace in front of him. Breathy gasps began to climb their way up his chest while he continued to take in the body before him. A slender toned frame and subtle muscles flexing with every twist of a wrist.

'Fuckin’… Christ …' followed by louder gasps and shaky breaths, the voice on the screen groaned, its owner's pace quickening once again, the bed beginning to gently shake under his haste.

The man's voice alone nearly sent Steve over the edge, for some reason it sounded so familiar but good god did it do something to him. "Oh fuck," Steve gasped, digging his nails into the carpet below him, toes curling and ecstacy boiling in his veins. He was so close. Moving quickly Steve pulled his shirt up his chest, exposing a blank canvas ready to be painted. Biting his lip, until nearly painful, he moaned along with the man on the screen, hardly being able to keep his eyes open from pleasure alone.

He wanted to watch the other man come goddammit, he wasn't going to finish until he did. Thankfully he didn't need to wait much longer, staggered movements and a deep rattling groan later Steve joined the man in toppling over the edge. The sound alone made his bones ache for more.

Chest and stomach painted white, air hot and breaths staggered, Steve took a minute to collect himself. Listening to the man on the screen pant, barely catching the smattering across his lower abdomen, Steve wanted to crawl through the TV screen and lick the dark haired beauty clean. Though apparently he was capable of that himself, moving into the light enough to expose a dim shadow of his lower face the man lifted his hand to his mouth, licking off any and all traces of his own release with a deep groan of satisfaction.

"Holy fuck," Steve gasped, out of breath and taking more effort than he deemed typically necessary to lean forward and stop the tape to rewind it. As the VHS spun back to its beginning, Steve took his time lazily cleaning his chest and stomach, come getting stuck in his copious amounts of body hair as he went. He'd have to shower before he went to class for sure.

With a groan and shaky knees Steve got off the floor, tucking himself back into his sweats when he remembered he'd promised Eddie lunch. "Fuckin' Munson," he huffed to himself, knowing for a fact if he didn’t feed Eddie the man would forget to himself. Making his way to the bathroom to wash his hands and start a shower, Steve soon found his way back to the kitchen, popping the frozen lasagna into the oven and heading back into the living room to clean up the disaster he left behind.

Shoving the tapes back in their designated spots, porn in the back, rom-coms in the front, it eventually looked as if Steve was never there. Minus the image burned into his brain of his dick in hand and another man's body on TV.

Carrying on like normal, almost an hour later Steve found himself in the shower thinking of the man again. Long dark hair, lean and toned figure, a raspy groan that'll forever be ringing in his ears and how badly he'd wished he could have seen his face and feel his skin beneath his fingertips. Maybe the guy had more tapes. Oof, imagine that. Would it be weird to ask Eddie if he had any more of this guy?

Probably.

After painting the walls of the shower white and gasping so aggressively his throat was sore, Steve wrapped a towel around his waist, the fabric irritating his overly spent cock and padded back into the main living area.

Perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island he couldn't help but chuckle to himself knowing he'd have to give Robin an update on his research findings. That'd make for an interesting conversation. But before he could even begin to dwell on the topic the buzzer to the oven sounded signalling the Lasagna was ready.

Hair damp and still only in a towel, Steve made his way to the stove where he pulled on a pair of oven mitts and opened the oven door to feel the rush of heat wash over him. Typically soothing, the warmth was a bit much after his recent activities so with a huff of lingering exhaustion Steve removed the lasagna. And because his mind was too preoccupied with 'Holy Shit, I'm 100% Bi-Sexual & Jesus I just watched Eddie's porn,' he didn't quite hear the door to the apartment open but he sure heard as Eddie's loud, sing songy voice bellowed, "Honey, I'm-"

Though he heard it, it scared the shit out of him too, causing him to jump and brush the metal pan against his gut. Searing his skin he tossed the pan on the stove top with a yelp, "Ah! FUCK!"

The motion of the jump in pain also caused his towel to hit the floor.

"Steve you alright?" Eddie called from the entryway where he was probably toeing off his shoes, voice bleeding concern before he rushed to the kitchen.

Buttass naked and cursing under his breath at the pain blooming on his stomach, Steve tried to gather his bearings before Eddie entered the room, "Don't come in here, give me a sec."

But of course it was too late, Steve was bent over grabbing his towel, ass facing out of the kitchen, pointing directly to Eddie who was rounding the corner and stifled a rather obvious giggle at the sight before him.

"Fuck man," Steve huffed in embarrassment, standing upright wrapping his towel securely around his waist, wincing when the fabric brushed his fresh burn.

Cheeks growing redder by the second, it took Eddie a moment to meet Steve's eye but when he did, he couldn't help but appear concerned, "You okay there, Big Boy?"

Steve deadpanned, moving to the sink to get a cool cloth to soothe his burn, "Please do not call me Big Boy after you just saw me naked"

"All I saw was your ass! Nothing else, I swear!"

"Uh-Huh," Steve laughed to himself, wincing once again as the miniscule movement of his skin pulled at his new brand.

The room silent for all of two seconds, Eddie took the time to glance over Steve's nearly nude form while he searched for the source of the younger's outcry, only noticing the blooming red mark above Steve's towel as the man moved to drench a rag in the running water.

"Oh, you burnt yourself," Eddie's voice was concerned, caring, almost soothing in itself. With careful steps he approached Steve who was now leaning against the sink, cool cloth pressed to his scorched skin. Eddie was close, his breath would have ghosted Steve's skin if he stepped any closer, the atmosphere suddenly felt so intimate, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet with every motion. Eddie's hand hovered mere inches from Steve's that held the cloth, "Let me take a look?" He asked, looking up at Steve through thick eye lashes.

Butterflies swarming in his gut, Steve nodded, eyes never once leaving Eddie's face while he pulled the cool cloth back to reveal his burn. He watched as Eddie's lips turned down and he quietly spoke, "Oh Stevie," the man's eyes remained on the brand as he gently squeezed Steve's wrist and continued, "wait right here, I think I have some burn cream in my room."

What Eddie had burn cream for, Steve didn't entirely know, but he didn't question it, the man was a walking hazard so he supposed it made sense to have precautionary supplies. Before he could ponder the thought much longer Eddie had returned with a small tube in hand.

He was back in Steve's space once again, but now his eyes were focused on Steve's, watery from the pain and pupils still blown wide from his post release bliss. Eddie pursed his lips into a flat line, waving the tube of burn cream between them before he quietly spoke, a nervous tinge to his voice and a blush to his cheeks, "You, uh, you want to do this or you want me to?"

Really Steve should have thought about it more, he was still only wrapped in a towel, dick and balls, a gentle breeze from being revealed or truthfully jolted back to life in what would be an even more embarrassing turn of events, but he didn't think about it much more than that. The want to have Eddie take care of him, forcing the word from his lips before he could second guess himself.

"You," he quietly breathed, knowing his cheeks probably matched the colour of the burn on his tummy.

Eddie swallowed, eyes searching Steve's, working his jaw for a beat before he confirmed, "Yeah?"

Steve nodded, the feeling of butterflies in his gut feeling comparable to a tornado.

"Okay," Eddie gave a single tight nod, eyes focusing on the sink while he waved Steve off to the side, "scooch over then Sugar, I need to wash my hands first."

The nicknames weren't anything new, but they still made the blood in Steve's cheeks churn, he loved them, probably more than he should honestly. But he listened, stepping off to the side while Eddie scrubbed his hands clean, tube of burn cream pinched between his front teeth.

And then he turned towards Steve, cheeks red while he gave him a nervous smile and softly spoken, "Let me know if it hurts too much, ‘kay?"

Steve nodded and tried his damndest to suppress the shiver that racked his body as Eddie stepped back into his space, placing one hand on his bare hip, cool rings a welcome contrast to his flushing skin while he steadied Steve. With soft, gentle movements, Eddie brushed the cream over Steve's burn, if it didn't hurt so much he'd probably be suppressing a moan as opposed to a wince.

Eddie bent closer to the abrasion, checking it over, dull breath barely ghosting over Steve's abs, "You're staying home today okay? I want to keep an eye on that."

And if Eddie was being selfish, wanting to take care of Steve for a day, that was his own secret to keep.

Standing up, Eddie turned to wash his hands in the sink, looking over his shoulder to talk to Steve, "Go put on some sweats, no shirt, we don't want fabric clinging to that and I'll pop in a movie for us."

Steve knew there was no point in arguing but if he remembered right, Eddie had shit to do and he voiced that concern, to which the metalhead responded, "Don't worry your pretty little head. I got my stuff mailed, everything else can wait. Now go get changed, I'll meet you back in the living room."

So that's what Steve did, changed into a pair of sweats he wasn't entirely sure were his or Eddie's, passed on a shirt and settled onto the couch to wait for his roommate. A few minutes later the older man returned in comfy clothes himself, a beer in each pocket, weighing his sweat pants down to a dangerous depth, dark hair peeking out from between the cropped band shirt and hemline of Eddie pants. He deposited two plates and beer onto the coffee table then proceeded to move towards the TV, evidently plopping down where Steve jacked off an hour ago. He picked through the movies until he settled on some Rom-Com.

He turned back to Steve with a smile, "I know, not quite my jam, but you're injured so I guess I'll concede."

Eddie joined Steve on the couch where they cracked a beer and watched the movie in silence until the lasagna had cooled enough to the point where they could actually eat, to which Steve groaned and teased Eddie about his odd choice of topping his own lasagna with Ranch, like a psychopath.

They continued to playfully banter back and forth for the remainder of the movie, Steve nudging Eddie with a socked foot anytime he said something dumb (read: something that made the butterflies in Steve's stomach worse.)

And that's how they spent their day, watching movies, teasing one another and eventually doing the dishes and laundry together. Several movies and a few loads of laundry in, they found themselves perched on the fire escape, night sky hanging above them, backs against the warm brick wall and asses aching from the metal grate beneath them. Shoulders and thighs pressed against one another they smoked in silence, taking in the sounds of the city around them.

"Today was nice," Steve softly spoke, shuffling to sleepily lean his head on Eddie's shoulder, wincing as his burn rubbed against the fabric of his sweatpants in the confined position.

Eddie stilled for a moment, breath hitching while Steve sunk deeper into his position. Eventually taking a shaky breath, he settled and replied, "Aside from burning yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah it was hey?" Eddie's hand found its way to Steve's hair where he gently carded through Steve's once famous locks, "Wish we could do this more often."

Leaning into the touch and ever so slowly melting from the sensation alone, Steve quietly asked, "Why don't we?"

Eddie shrugged, jostling all of the parts of Steve that rested against him until he came up with an answer, "Guess we're both just so busy."

"Well let's not be so busy." Steve yawned before drifting into a momentary slumber, nuzzling deeper into Eddie's shoulder as the city around them soon joined.

—

Later that night Eddie helped to wash Steve's burn and reapply the burn cream, adding a bandage to it for the night to shield it from the blankets that could potentially rub against it and cause irritation. With burning cheeks and a whirlwind of butterflies in their tummies both men found their ways to their own bedrooms, settling in for the evening, reminiscing the last several hours they'd spent with one another. They couldn't remember the last time they'd had a day like that, if they'd even had. But they both knew it was nice, something they could get used to, something they wanted more than just in a blue moon.

That night Steve dreamt of calloused hands brushing over his skin and the moans of a man he'd only heard on the TV.

While Eddie, the night owl, stayed up until the early hours of the morning, withering in his bed under the dark glow of a hanky covered lamp, hand clasped over his mouth to silence his sounds. Simultaneously completing his 'work' for the day and adding to his (and now Steve's) not so secret porn stash beneath the living room TV.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie smut #pre relationship #gay eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #steddie post vecna

40 notes · View notes

pigeonwit · 3 months

Note

hello again mr pigeon 'pidge' wit i come to u with a writing req ....... no pressure to write obviously!!!!

but consider ur shitface drunk davey w jack (potentially friends too) at a restaurant ... javey aren't together at this point ... but davey is just a little too drunk and ends up pretty much lying with his head on jacks lap ... cue 'jack, I don't wanna go all the way home all by myself ....... can I come home with you?' and jack being the smitten pushover he is of course lets David 'Lightweight' Jacobs sleep in his bed with him ...

davey wakes up has no recollection of what happened and is SO concerned when he wakes up in jacks bed - jack is shirtless - and oh lord he's SO hungover .... anyway ...

consider also jack waking up and saying 'hey beautiful' and Davey short circuiting and jack shrugging and saying 'well u seemed to like it just fine last night'

sorry for the long af ask but this????? in your writing style!!!!! I would shit myself /pos

roman i have had this in my inbox for so long cause i want to write this so goddamn badly but alas uni is killing me, so that's probably not gonna happen for a while. BUT! i do have little snippets for your convenience, because again, this idea was so fun and i wanted to write it so so badly. hope these can tide you over:

“Davey,” Jack says, far more charmed than he should be, because he is pathetic, “maybe you oughta take a break for a bit, you’re-”

“Don’t worry yourself, handsome,” Davey winks, and Jack immediately feels his stomach drop. They have entered Flirty Drunk Davey, which means Jack is going to be of no help for the entire evening. “I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions, and I’m deciding to get sloshed tonight.” He drums his hands on the table as he gets up and shoots Jack a finger-gun as he stumbles only slightly. “Livin’ la vida loca!”

Oh, Jack is a sad man. Jack is a weak, pathetic little man who is in love with someone that just said livin’ la vida loca unironically. Jack is a sad, sad man.

[…]

“And iguanodons,” Davey says quite seriously, with one finger raised like a very wobbly professor,“iguanodons, they walk like – like this…”

He shapes each of his hands into three-toed points and leans forward to plant them on the floor.

“Oh, no-” Jack says quickly, taking his wrists and gently pulling him upright. “No, Davey, that’s okay, don’t – don’t crawl on the floor, pal.”

Davey looks at him with the largest eyes Jack’s ever seen in his life.

“But that’s how iguanodons walk…” He says plaintively, like Jack is a monster who is stifling a very important display of science, and Jack is so pathetically gone for him that he’s almost tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry Davey, by all means crawl around on the floor like a dinosaur, I love you so much.’ Christ, he needs to skip town, go somewhere so repressed he’ll never even think about feelings again without curling up and dying of shame. Britain, maybe. Or wherever the Amish live.

“I know, bud,” Jack soothes, rubbing a hand down his back. “You, uh – you just show me later, okay? We’re going inside now.”

[…]

Right. Right. Breathe. Facts. That’s what Davey needs. Facts.

Fact one: he is currently in Jack’s bed, in Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact two: he cannot remember how he got into either Jack’s bed or Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact three: Jack is making pancakes. Shirtless. With a bit of batter stuck to his collarbone that Davey really wants to lick.

(Fact three, subheading: Davey might still be a little bit drunk)

Conclusion: Davey had literally mind-blowing sex last night while more drunk than a Baltic tide and has thus not only ruined the best friendship he’s ever had, but can’t even reminisce over the memory of it to soothe the wound. Fantastic.

#again - the iguanadon thing is a real thing that has happened.#newsies #uksies #(it's always uksies here)#pigeon scribbles #fic thoughts #loiteringandlurking #javey #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #javid

34 notes · View notes

thoriffix · 2 years

Text

The first time Zane injures himself badly enough to need proper repairs, Jay is utterly terrified.

Because sure, he knows robotics. He's invented a few robots in his time, to varying degrees of success, and he knows well enough how everything works. But this isn't some pancake-making robot he threw together out of scrap, that he can throw away if he messes up and start over with some other junk. This is Zane.

If he messes up here, it's Zane who'll pay the price. One of his best friends is at stake. He can't afford to screw up. And that knowledge is making it way too easy to picture screwing up.

He stares down at the inside of Zane's rib cage area, a twisted mass of wires, some broken, and swallows. Zane's insides spark ominously at him.

…it's a lot of pressure.

"Jay?"

Jay looks up to see Zane, craning his neck up from his horizontal position on the table, frowning worriedly at him. "You have been staring at my wiring for quite a while," he continues. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, I'm not the one on the operating table here, buddy!" Damn. Why did he say it like that? That puts even more pressure on it. He's not medically trained! He's not trained for this at all! "Are you alright?"

"Yes," says Zane, although he shifts slightly and a slight wince crosses his face. "I am alright."

"Cool. Cool, cool." Jay taps his fingers against his thighs. It's overwhelming. He's not even formally trained in robotics, nowhere near! Sure, he has the blueprints from Zane's dad about how he works, but that doesn't mean he's able to fix everything. "Say, uh, Zane?"

"Yes?"

"Do you, uh- would you rather have somebody else do this?"

Zane cocks his head slightly, looking confused. "Why?"

"Um. Because I'm, y'know- I'm not exactly trained in this stuff. I just kinda know what I taught myself in the junkyard, with scrap metal n' stuff. And I don't wanna mess anything up, or- or hurt you, or anything. Are you sure you want me to do this?"

He keeps tapping his fingers against his legs, face creased up as he stares at Zane's face, trying to read it. Zane just blinks at him, and then smiles. "Of course, Jay. I trust you."

Well, that's very sweet, but Jay doesn't fully trust himself. Not with this. "Okay, but, buddy - I really don't want to mess you up. What if I break something in you, and then you're hurt or damaged or- or y'know, I make it worse, or-"

He cuts himself off, because Zane's face is starting to look like a deer caught in the headlights, and him continuing to freak out would probably make it worse. He bites his lip instead, worrying it until he can taste the sharp tang of blood, and then Zane reaches to place a hand over his.

"I trust you," repeats Zane. "I would not have asked if I didn't trust your abilities."

That's… true. It had been Zane who came to him, holding his side and walking awkwardly, when they'd got home. Jay wonders, not for the first time, how Zane processes pain. He clearly does, particularly given the way his face had been pinched uncomfortably, and the little pained noises he's making when he moves too much. He's sure Dr Julien was a good man, but giving his son the ability to feel pain when he could've spared him from that? Jay has to question why.

He nods, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, and then takes a deep breath. Okay. He can do this. He knows how to do this. Zane's in pain, and he can fix it. Trust yourself, Jay.

He reaches over for the wire cutters, squares his shoulders, and gives Zane a smile. Zane smiles back, entirely trusting, and Jay gets to work.

#ninjago fic #ninjago #i wanna post more short fics like this!! hopefully will do more in future #ive been writing a lot recently so #lego ninjago #jay walker #zane julien #grays fic stuff

480 notes · View notes

watermelonsugacry · 2 years

Note

bestieee ngl ever since i read the rolling stone article and h said he cried after the 1d wembley show in 2014 all i could think about was yn comforting him afterwards ☹️🫶🏻

Noooo because after the band gives the crowd their final wave goodbye and they all head backstage, the crew members, management, and the rest of their team are just clapping and cheering them on. After coming on stage, her and boys are on a high, the adrenaline racing throughout their entire bodies that they all jump and yell along with everyone else in celebration.

Louis is the one to pull and gather the band together in a group hug huddle. They could honestly care less about how smelly or sticky with sweat they are from performing, it was a moment that they all needed to reel in and enjoy. They just performed to a sold-out stadium full of thousands of people!

After all the commotion, the band gets led down the halls to their designated dressing rooms. So after some quick showers and drives back to their hotel rooms, YN can't help but notice how quiet Harry has been after getting backstage.

A perk of being the only girl in the is the fact that whatever hotel they were staying at, most of the time YN was able to get her own private suite while the boys shared one or two amongst themselves.

So while the band makes their way down the hotel hallways, chatting and laughing away at all the stuff that happened during the show, YN goes to ask what was Harry's favorite part of the show when she sees that his fingers pinch at his eyes. When he blinks them open, she can see how pink his nose is and his eyes glossy.

"So do you guys wanna head over to Louis and Zayn's room? Carry on the party in there?" Liam suggests and everyone but YN and Harry excitedly agrees.

"M'actually pretty beat." YN shifts the duffle bag strap on her shoulder. "M'old lady, can't stay awake for a minute longer. Y'lads have fun."

"Harry? Y'coming?" Zayn nods over to the room once he's scanned his key card.

"Think m'gonna go to sleep too." Harry fakes a yawn to make it seem like his water eyes weren't from his sentimental tears.

"Okay, grampa." Niall teases, "Just don't come knocking on the door when we got the music on too loud. Wembly!" The Irish lad raised his fists in the air and the rest of the boys join in with his chanting as they make their way into the room. Once they hear the door click shut, Harry awkwardly shuffles his worn-out Chelsea boot against the patterned carpet.

"Um, good night, YN."

"Night, H."

Right as he goes to take out his key card from his pocket, she doesn't think twice about blurting out, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are yeh hungry?"

So that's how the two find themselves in YN's hotel kitchenette, making breakfast at 1 o'clock in the morning. To be fair, it's been mostly Harry cooking since YN can all but know how to make toast and coffee. YN was thinking made just chatting over a bowl of cereal but he's gone the whole nine yards: eggs, pancakes and even a bit of hashbrown he's managed to whip up.

After pushing her finished plate onto the coffee table, YN leans back on the living room couch with a hand over her tummy. "That was so fookin' good. Those pancakes were amazing."

"M'sure they were since you drowned them in syrup." Harry teases over a sip of his coffee mug.

"Are you syrup-shaming meh?"

"Just making an observation." He shrugs with a soft smile, fingers pushing some of his outgrown hair behind his ear after putting his mug on the table.

"Y'hair s'getting long." YN thinks out loud, eyes flickering around his curly locks.

"Judging my choice of length?" Harry turns sideways to face her, an arm coming up to rest on the back of the couch so he can lean his temple against his hand. His insides get all gooey at the sight of her. How can he function properly when her head rests back on the couch, her neck fully on display like it's begging him to plant his lips on the surface. Or the way her eyes hold something in them he can't quite place his finger on. Or the way her lips tug up into the smile that never fails to take his breath away.

She pushes a shoulder to her ear, "Just making an observation."

A beat goes by of them just fondly staring at one another before her ringtone goes off to let her know she received a new text message. Shifting and reaching around her back pocket, she notices how the butterflies in her tummy make their landing when she reads the name on the screen.

Matthew: Hey hun, I know you're probably knocked out for the night so good morning when you read this <3 give me a ring when you're up and tell me all about the show! I love you.

With a sigh, YN locks her screen and pushes it onto the table next to her plate. She rakes a hand through her hair before settling back into the couch, wishing to go back to the feeling she felt before being reminded of her boyfriend. Matthew is a great guy, he's honest and loyal and caring...and not who she truly wants to be with.

"Y'alright, YN?"

"Y'know what I realized?" YN questions, impulsively finding the strength to confess something she's been holding onto since she was 16. But all the courage diminishes the second she meets his eyes and if she wasn't already sitting down, her knees might have given out.

"Hmm?" Harry encourages.

"That...you don't call me lovie as much anymore." She says instead and thanks God she did because now the heat is taken off of her and placed on top of his heated and dimpled cheeks. "What's up with that? Lately, it's been Morning, YN. See yeh on stage, YN. Y'alright, YN?" She deepens her voice to try to make his accent and a giggle erupts from his chest.

"Thought you didn't like it anymore." Harry lies through his teeth.

"And why in the bloody hell would yeh think that?"

The real reason? He stopped calling her that once she was officially with Matthew, it just didn't feel right having her so close yet so far from his reach. In all honesty, it hurt him more than it hurt her when he stopped calling her his nickname.

"Dunno." Harry lets out a huffed laugh through his nose.

"Well I do like it. I miss it actually." YN distracts herself by picking at the frilly bits on the decorative pillows.

"Okay," She feels his finger go under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Lovie."

In true YN fashion, she rolls her eyes with a scoff as she pushes her hand away both for hating the lovey dovey shit and not letting herself succumb her his lovey dovey actions. Harry chuckles at her antics and goes back to rest his temple on his fist. There's a tiny part of his ego that likes the fact that he can make her nervous, flustered at little bits of affection.

"Anyways," YN remembers her initial reason for inviting him over. "That was some show, huh?"

"Insane." Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "Y'know, if or when all of us decide to go our separate ways and do solo stuff, and I never perform to that big of a crowd again, m'perfectly okay with that."

"I was thinking the same thing. Was a bit overwhelming wasn't it? Just everything all at once. The fans, the music, the excitement of it all. Being with you and the boys on stage doing what we all love. It's a pretty amazing feelin' innit?"

She sees Harry nod along to her words, chuckling a bit when he has to sniffle his nose as his eyes get watery again. He even looks away from her direction, too embarrassed from being sentimental.

"S'okay to cry, H. S'just me." And that seemed to be the last branch holding the damn together because Harry leans forward, his elbows on her knees with his hands covering his face. His shoulders twitch as he cries and it has YN scooting over to his side in an instant.

As much as she's slowly inching her way to being more comfortable with physical affection, her anxiety about it all lessens when it's with Harry. She wraps an arm around his back and rests her cheek against his shoulder in comfort, making him feel safe to release the sob that he was holding back.

They like this for what seems like forever, YN rubbing his back gently and even blinking back a few tears of her own. After a couple of minutes, he straightens up a bit and takes in a much needed deep breath.

When he turns his head to face hers, they're so close that one easy movement can bump their noses together. She almost jumps out of her skin when she feels his thumb comes up to wipe a rouge tear from her cheek.

"Feel better?" YN whispers between them. The feel of her breath on his lips mixed with his heightened emotions has him holding himself back from leaning in the rest of the way. He wonders if her lips still tasted like syrup.

Not trusting his own voice, he just gives her a small nod. With a word, he rests his head on her shoulder. He closes his eyes and lets out a hum when he feels her finger softly rub against his scalp. It doesn't take long before his breathing evens out and they maneuver their position so his head lays across her lap.

It takes a while before YN falls asleep. She looks down at the man, her band mate, her best friend in her lap and wonders what the hell she's gotten herself into.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love-armin @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

552 notes · View notes

cherrydreamer · 2 years

Text

Thinking about Billy rocking up early one morning at Steve's house and hearing the muffled sound of Metallica coming through the open windows. So he wanders in, a little confused, only to find Steve in the kitchen making breakfast while Jump in the Fire blares out from the fancy music centre in the living room. And Billy just watches for a moment, leaning on the doorframe, a soft smile growing on his face as Steve bobs along to the rhythm of the music, flipping pancakes and pouring out coffee and occasionally mumble-singing a little, "Jump in the fi-yah," under his breath as he works.

And when Steve finally notices that he's being watched- jumping back with a hand on his heart and a Jeez Louise, the very picture of a Midwestern grandpa- Billy can't help but tease him a little, plucking that fresh cup of coffee right out of his hands and purring, "Nice tunes, Stevie. Looks like I'm rubbing off on you in a whole other way, huh?"

But Steve's answering smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and it takes more than a little bit of Billy's gentle coaxing before he sheepishly admits that, sometimes, when he wakes up alone and the emptiness of the house feels a little too much, he'll grab one of Billy's left behind tapes, set it playing nice and loud and just kinda... pretend that Billy's there too. Pretend that he's only a couple of rooms away, sprawled out on the Cassina couch, getting a little too into one of Mrs Harrington's Harlequin romances and blasting his music out with no regard for the neighbours. Cause it feels a little less lonely that way.

And Billy has to rein himself in from punching a hole through the drywall of the kitchen.

Because he's been trying so damn hard to pretend that all he wants from this is something casual. He's been trying so hard not to fall, and then, when that ship sailed immediately, trying even harder not to let on just how deeply he has fallen. He's been forcing himself to get out of Steve's bed the moment he's caught his breath, shoving on his boots and lighting a cigarette and practically hurling himself down the stairs without even risking a backwards glance because he knew that, if he gave into the temptation of actually taking any of the morsels of affection that Steve is so willing to hand out, well, he'd lose himself entirely.

But now Steve is looking at Billy, all big doe eyes and pouty lips and saying, "It's dumb, I know, but it...it just makes me miss you a bit less, I guess."

And Billy is lost. Entirely.

But he can't say that he really minds. Not when Steve's already found so much of him and apparently declared it something worth keeping.

So he stops pretending.

And the next time the mid-morning sun fills the Harrington's kitchen, it falls on Steve making breakfast. For two this time. And it also falls on Billy standing right beside him, pouring out two mugs of coffee before leaning over to pepper a whole constellation of kisses against Steve's exposed shoulder. And this time the only music they need is the soft crackle of the transistor radio on the counter, a gentle hum of The Beach Boys asking, "Wouldn't it be nice?"

And it is.

#harringrove #cherrywrites #more soft soft soft #it's what i do #fluff friday #is that a thing? cause i like it!

623 notes · View notes

thewriterg · 2 years

Text

♡︎sick and sound♡︎

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x Fem!reader, Pope Heyward x Fem!reader, John B x Fem!reader, Kiara Carrera x Fem!reader —could be read as romantic or platonic—

Summary: It was officially Fall your favorite season of the year but there always seemed to be a negative with a positive with came the crisp air, burnt orange leaves, and pumpkin spice everything was flu season —flufftober; day 4–

Word count: 1.1k+

Warning(s): Sickness, mentions of throwing up, fluff and language

A/n: —GIF’s aren’t mine— So I’m kinda scared of pumpkin flavored things I haven’t had something pumpkin since I was like 11 and I hated it so I’m gonna try it again (you guys have +1 more fic coming tdy :)

First it started with your occasional sniffles and dry eyes but you just brushed it off as your seasonal allergies nothing big, nothing major, nothing to worry about.

Then came the coughing, runny nose, and feeling if you sneezed to hard you would puke and so you finally accepted the fact that you were sick so there you were laying in bed on October 4th watching Hocus Pocus for the 20th time and drinking green tea dozing in and out of sleep

The pogues couldn’t be anymore worried about you than they already were you were MIA in October your favorite month and to top it off you favorite season usually you would have already dragged them to Spirit, volunteered you all to help set up a pumpkin patch, and the only thing they would have smelled is cinnamon, vanilla, and pumpkin

The group had brushed it off the first two days of the month thinking maybe you were off planning or shopping for Halloween decorations you had enough of and didn’t need

But ever since yesterday night when you’d dropped of Things to make sandwiches, boxed pancake mix and two of the biggest pans of Lasagna any of them had ever seen just on the doorstep they couldn’t help but start to panic

JJ was pacing holes in the floor, Kie was contacting any and everyone who she knew knew you, John B was on his third can of beer at 11am, and Pope.. Pope was the only person thinking rationally at that moment

“You all need to calm down, How about we just stop at her house and if she’s not there we can drive around the island alright?” Pope was the one calming them all down but the more Kie called you and you didn’t answer the more anxiety rose in his chest

“Okay yea, yea.” JJ nodded his head in agreement the look on his face stating as if he were going over the plan in his head a million times

“You’re tipsy and drive like a grandma” JJ muttered as he was the first one out of the door rushing the pogues to hurry and pick up their feet before all four teens were loaded in the Twinkie driving off to your house

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

You had dragged you sock covered feet from your bathroom that had connected to your room back into bed the crackers you had tried to consume to put something light and airy in you but your stomach disagreed with you wholeheartedly by the time you were on the fifth cracker you felt the intense need to gag and soon went the crackers back up the hatchet

You were quite literally miserable.

You had tried to go back to sleep because your body was entirely worn and exhausted but your stuffy nose was making it difficult to breathe and you couldn’t keep your hands away from you face Especially with your eyes that itched dearly

You began to think that you were sicker than you though or if your brain were messing with you because you could swear you could hear someone in your house

There was nothing wrong with it your padlock key was the only security you really used for your house you never used the second lock just for anyone of your friends around the island needed a place to crash they had the code but you still weren’t expecting anyone

Sliding out of bed and throwing a robe over your tank top and shorts the cool air not being something you were a fan of at the moment before opening your bedroom door stepping into the hall before beginning to trail down your steps

By the time you made it to the landing of the staircase you came into view you came Into contact with 4 pairs of wide eyes before JJ tackled into you ill body with a hug you returned it softly before pushing him away which he furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head like a kicked puppy at

“I don’t want to get you sick” You muttered your voice raspy and throat sore it hurt to speak unless you were whispering like a church mouse before you burst into a fit of coughs and Pogues couldn’t help but wince it sounded as bad a nails against a chalkboard and by the look on your face they could tell it hurt.

“We don’t care if you get us sick, you always take care of us and we have to return the favor” John B piped up as the rest of the group nodded in agreement and you couldn’t help but tiredly smile muttering a grateful okay

John B came up the small amount of stairs that put a distance in between all of you lifting you of the ground his arm coming under your thighs while you rested you head on his shoulder before Kie followed behind you both while JJ and Pope made their way towards the kitchen

When you entered your room Kie began to pick up the pillows that had fell on the floor leaning them against your head board making up Your bed while John b had yet to put you back on your own two feet while he bounced you up and down like a baby

Somehow you weren’t complaining it made you feel sleepy and sending how you couldn’t stay asleep for more than ten minutes you were grateful for the motions

It was at least five minutes of John B’s consistent bouncing before he felt a heavier weight on his shoulder and your soft breaths tickling his neck to indicate your peaceful slumber Kie had just finish up making your bed more comfortable and switching out your practically empty tissue box for a new one

John b carefully approached your bed lowering you softly onto the mattress as you shuffled before settling back in JJ and Pope came through the door with 5 bowls of chicken noodle soup they found in your cabinet heating on the Stove than adding a few spices and precut vegetables to add a little something

Kie hurriedly shushed the boys pointing to your sleeping figure which they started at sheepishly before Passing out the bowls of soup to the point there were only one more left over that they sat on vanity closest to your TV

The pogues crowded around you whisper shouting at who should be closest to you squeezing one your queen sized mattress before dozing off or continuing to watch the movie you had on

That day you laid in between four squished body’s sick and sound.

387 notes · View notes

astranite · 1 month

Text

CH2 of Where was he? Pancakes.

Behold, a second chapter!! Thanks for everyones lovely comments and encouragement! I did not quite mean to stay up until midnight finishing this, but ADHD and I'm excited about this!! Enjoy!!!

@idontknowreallywhy yes im going to sleep now.

@edutainer2022 The rest of this, as you've already seen the first little bit!

Tumblr part 1 :)

---

Instead of pulling away from his brothers and getting to work like drill sergeant at the back of his mind nagged that he should be doing, Scott sunk into the group hug. Just a while longer. He needed this.

"What do I do now? I don’t know what to do now," he asked, or rather mumbled into John's t-shirt where he'd smushed his face.

There. He'd admitted it even to himself. And his brothers.

His voice was small where he'd meant it to come out as a demand or at least a question, not a pitiful cry for help.

Gordon gripped him tighter and so did Alan, and Scott was already leaning into Virgil's enveloping embrace at his side and John's fingers were still in his hair.

He didn't actually know what to do with the mess he'd made of the kitchen or the unfinished pancake batter. The useless bowl of ingredients couldn't even be put back in their respective packets because he'd mixed them together because he hadn't thought further ahead than throwing them in. They were wasted.

The idea of sifting apart flour and sugar and the baking powder that was possibly in there until it was like nothing had ever happened buzzed in his brain. Every solution he could come up with to undo it all was summarily discarded as they were impractical, impossible or simply ridiculous. Life didn't work like that. You didn’t get a do over on your mistakes, and even if anyone could it certainly wouldn’t be him getting the chance.

But he didn't want to give up. What Scott wanted was to eat pancakes with his brothers, to get to laugh together without the pressing weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Alright, at this point he would definitely prefer to jump out of One without a jetpack than face the kitchen, or y'know go cry in the shower. He had such great coping mechanisms.

Just it was easier to think in the middle of a crisis. The present moment swallowed up all the mistakes of the past as the only thing that mattered in the universe was the next several seconds in the now. Doubt didn't have time to eat him alive; there wasn't time for vegetables to go mouldy in the bottom of the fridge.

Maybe he'd dissolve into a puddle of suspicious goop too. Ugh, then someone would have to scrub the floor, which he'd be responsible for doing given it would be his fault if he liquified into hypothetical ooze.

Gordon interrupted his thoughts, sing-songing out his name, "Scott, Scotty, Scooter, what can we do to help?"

If he knew how they could help, that'd solve a lot of problems.

Scott shrugged. Caring too much left him in the same place on the outside as caring too little.

His brain steamrollered over Gordon's clarification of whether Scott wanted suggestions for what they could do.

The batter needed to be finished except that needed the eggs and other whatever it was that they didn't have, the fridge stuff needed to be dealt with by putting it in a place that wasn't the fridge, but those containers would have to be cleaned—

When A plus B equals C, you've still got to work out what bloody A is to find C.

"None of you deserve to have to clean up my messes," Scott burst out, "I should be able to do this on my own if I can just get my act together."

I don't need help. I've totally got this, I'm fine. I'm so completely fine, not that any of you would believe me if I said that. Not that he was doing a particularly good job of lying to himself right now either.

He was barely managing not to yell.

His mind ran at lightning speed even as he knew he was missing out on the looks the others were throwing each other over his head.

He kept going, "I'd been meaning to do this for you guys, you know, as a nice breakfast we could enjoy on our day off..." Scott's voice jammed in his throat.

His brothers were here supporting him, but he still couldn't fix any of these problems because he was the cause of them.

"Scott." Virgil was as always his rock, there for him when Scott couldn't figure out which was was up. "You. Are. Allowed. To. Ask. For. And. Accept. Our. Help."

With how awful he was at remembering that no matter how many times everyone told him, he should let them permanent marker it onto his forehead and be done with it.

"We all need help with stuff. It doesn't make you incapable," Gordon said.

Scott never begrudged fetching Gordon heat packs when his back was bad so he didn't have to get up or rubbing at the sore muscles after missions or assisting with the physio exercises Gordon still had to do.

Alan butted in, “I mean I don’t like chores, ‘cause who does, but Scott, that’s totally unfair if you have to do everything!”

"Sprout, it's alright, I don't do everything," Scott reassured automatically.

Alan gave him a look of utter teenage incredulity. "Yeah, but you try to."

John’s arms tightened around him as he rested his chin on Scott’s head and said simply, "We help each other, on missions and at home. That’s who we are.”

Scott could hear the smile in John’s voice as added, “So, how about breakfast?”

He took a deep breath, filling up his lungs before letting it out, allowing his brothers’ presences steady him. “Breakfast.”

"They're Scott-special pancakes but that doesn't mean we can't all help," Gordon ruled firmly.

"We'd all rather that than you having to do it all on your own." John hesitated then added, "Scott, you remember when we used to cook with Mum and Dad? Sunday mornings, all of us crammed in the kitchen in our pyjamas, covered in flour, everyone helping out?"

Of course he remembered. It had hurt too much to think about for years and the ache of loss was still there, but now he had a chance to make new memories with his brothers right beside him. His small smile matched John's.

"It makes them more special, not less," Virgil said, "Because we get to spend the time together."

"Yeah Scotty, we want to hang out with you," Alan finished, and that was that.

The group hug transformed into a mission planning huddle, though John and Gordon remained propping Scott up on either side.

Gordon was bouncing on his toes in anticipation, the fins on his clownfish towel flapping. "Okay. Where were we? Oh yeah, suggestions for us helping if you want us to give suggestions, because I don't want to stomp on what you're doing and take away your control over it 'cause that's really not actually helpful. But I do know how hard the 'thinking up what people should be doing' is when your brain is—" Gordon waved a hand about to complete the sentence. "So, yup."

Scott pressed his shoulder to Gordon's in silent appreciation of his thoughtfulness in the face of Scott's overwhelm. That's what he was, overwhelmed.

"Having some ideas would help. Please."

"We'll clean up the kitchen together. We've all had a part in leaving stuff in the fridge too long," Virgil said calmly, like there wasn't any shame in it. Scott filed that away in the back of his mind for later consideration.

"Alan can take One to Aotearoa and get the eggs and blueberries. He needs the practice flight hours anyway," John put forward.

Alan’s face lit up as he immediately shook off Virgil's arm around his shoulders to jump to the ready. “Can I? Scott. Scott, please? I promise I won’t scratch her, I’ll be as careful as I am with Three, in fact I’ll be carefuller! Wait is that even a word? So can I?”

"Nope. Not quite a word," John chipped in affectionately when Alan had to take a breath.

"Alright, alright." Scott held his hands up. "But you'd better bring her back in one piece or you won't be getting any pancakes," he joked. Mostly. As long as One didn't end up wedged in the swimming pool...

One last moment was spent in the huddle with his brother as Alan darted back for a goodbye hug, no matter how short the flight would be.

Putting their hands out in the centre in a stack, grinning at each other, they yelled in unison, “Tracies are go!!!”

Alan ran towards Scott's launch chute entrance, tossing over his shoulder, "Don't let Gordon eat them all before I get back!"

Gordon's indignant, "Hey!" was lost as the painting swung around, taking Alan with it.

"He does know that we need the eggs to make the pancakes which he is getting, right?" John asked as an aside.

"Eh, he'll work it out." Scott was looking after where Alan had gone wondering when their undeniably littlest brother had grown up so much. That applied regardless of continued brotherly taunting ‘cause wasn’t like he, John or Virgil had ever grown out of it.

Finally, the rest of them returned to the kitchen. Scott steeled himself as he stepped over the imaginary threshold separating it in the open plan design from the lounge.

The containers of spoilt food were sitting out on the bench where he'd left them, condensation dripping from the outsides in the subtropical heat. Unfinished pancake batter loomed from its bowl. Where would he even start? The multiple frying pans he'd need to cook such a big batch with were languishing in the bottom of the sink too.

Gordon set his hands on his hips, in a stand off against the mess. "Okey dokey. Scott, would you rather do dishes, begin emptying out the containers or make coffee so the Virge doesn't keel over? We'll split up the rest between us."

Scott found himself wandering over to the coffee station before he answered. It was the easiest, most straight forward task right now.

He bit his lips guiltily. "Can I?"

Virgil was already standing beside the sink, putting on an apron. He waved a pink rubber washing up glove at Scott in a 'go ahead' gesture, idly chewing on the corner of his flannel shirt collar.

That was about as much as he'd normally get out of Virgil before coffee, excluding missions and brotherly crises as this morning.

Scott inspected the array of coffee types set out in the cupboard next to the overly complicated, super fancy coffee machine Virgil insisted they have. It had more knobs and dials than Thunderbird Two's console he swore and that was already far too many, but Scott couldn't deny it made the best coffee.

None of that mattered though because above the machine was a laminated sheet of paper covered in Virgil's blocky handwriting outlining exactly the steps he had to follow in the order he had to do them, the same as a pre-flight checklist. Scott relaxed. Like a math problem, if he took it bit by bit he'd eventually end up at the right answer.

He'd make a cup for himself too. Not that it would wake him up, thanks ADHD, but he enjoyed the taste and it might do something for his focus.

Virgil's favourite coffee brand came in an electric green package with its name written in an indecipherable font most expected on a death metal album cover. Though at the strength Virgil drank it, it was pretty fitting. Scott had tried a sip once. Only once, as drinking undiluted tar was not his cup of, well, coffee. But Virgil loved the stuff.

Scott made the coffee and got out their biggest mug with the silly, absolutely tiny in proportion Thunderbird Two perched on the handle for his brother.

After passing Virgil his coffee, his brother turned it this way and that then grinned up at Scott. "Did you draw Two in the middle of the froth for me?"

Scott fetched his own coffee, before standing next to Virgil to squint into his mug. A lighter blob of foam floated in the centre. Those bits on the side could be the stubby wings. Though maybe Virgil was kidding, but he might not be so if he saw the Flying Turtle, the Great Green Bathtub, Thunderblob Two, who was Scott to protest artistic genius?

"Happy accident?" Scott told him as Virgil rolled his eyes and nudged his side.

Gordon stood on tip toe to look too. "It's not green. I mean, I could make it green!"

Virgil hunched protectively over his coffee. Do not get between Gordon and food dye was wisdom learned early.

"I think it looks more like Four," John deadpanned to significant outrage.

Scott cackled as Gordon attempted to mess up John's hair in revenge, both of them laughing at each other.

The coffee was warm going down as he took the moment to lean on Virgil as they both quietly sipped theirs, watching the others' antics.

His own mug had a comic of a Boeing aircraft crashing then bouncing down a runway, captioned 'boing.' Scott had giggled when he saw it in amongst the other mugs in the cupboard as he always did since Gordon and Alan had gifted it to him on his birthday, and decided he needed that today.

He held up for Virgil to inspect, along with John and Gordon glued together in their tackle hug.

Laughing, he read the text out loud, complete with sound effects.

Several hilarious minutes followed of them all repeating the sounds between them, bouncing around, echoing and playing off each other. Scott grinned so hard his cheeks ached. He needed this.

Maybe it was the placebo effect or the time spent freely messing around with his brothers, but with the coffee in him Scott was starting to feel a little better about the world and possibly himself too.

Better enough that he could face approaching the counter of suspicious containers to help Gordon.

Gordon was currently inspecting them with equal parts fascination and repulsion. He poked at the box Scott had found wedged at the very back of the fridge.

"Do you reckon that's last month's meatloaf? Or maybe it was the stew. I think it's got its own ecosystem!"

Nope, nope, nope. It looked like it was about to crawl away. "Do not open that, Gords!"

Virgil and John gathered behind him, peering over his shoulders. Scott could tell without seeing exactly which utterly icked out face John made.

Come on, Scotty, he told himself, you've dealt with grosser things on rescues. And in raising very little brothers; he certainly did not miss some stuff.

"We can sacrifice one container, right?" he said. Right? You had to know when to call it in the hopeless cases.

Unanimous noises of agreement were rapidly made. The container was summarily carried over to the bin with caution equivalent of handling radioactive waste. Scott wouldn't be surprised if it set off a geiger counter.

The punnet of blueberries he'd meant for the pancakes joined it. They were well beyond salvage.

Scott tugged a hand through his hair, trying his best not to let the guilty regret swallow him up. The frustration surged, as even though they'd finally cleaned out the fridge and dealt with the stuff, he hadn't been able to prevent the waste happening in the first place.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he and Gordon wiped out the shelves so they could put back all the non-archaeological bottles of lurking sauces that he'd also taken out to get at the other stuff. The patch of mystery sticky substance probably didn't require as much scrubbing force as he was putting into it.

...it wasn't a mystery. It was the strawberry smoothie leftover from a morning Gordon had made too much that Scott had spilt while getting it out midnight to fuel his deadline induced frenzy of report writing. That had been only after he'd realised the reason he felt so shaky and sick was that he'd forgotten to eat all day despite several heavy, exhausting rescues.

After wiping up the last of it, he tossed the cloth into soapy sink with a splash. Immediately he was apologising for startling Virgil as the cloth flew past him as he did the dishes.

There went Scott and another stupidly impulsive action. No one even had to tell him off for the gaping hole to open up in his chest. He stood in middle of the room, feet rooted to the floor, frozen as he resisted the urge to storm off to One's hanger or some other darker, damper crevice to curl up and probably sob about such a dumb mistake, so he wasn't abandoning his brothers.

Gordon's much smaller hand slipped into his own.

"Do you wanna take a break, Scotty?"

Silently, honestly, Scott nodded.

He followed Gordon's lead as he tugged Scott over to the patch of clear floor in the lounge by the full length windows.

Then, because this was Gordon, he just lay down on the ground with an exclamation of, "Floor time!"

Scott got down next to him and flopped onto his back staring upwards. At least attempting to work out where Gordon's offbeat schemes were going was a distraction from his thoughts tearing him apart.

Virgil and John were still working away in the kitchen. The guilt gnawed. Scott screwed his eyes shut then rubbed the heels of his hands over them, hard enough to see spots before he opened them again as he really shouldn’t do that. He wound his fingers through the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

Blue sky stretched above them, framed by the edge of the roof. Beyond the glass, sun shone through the cloudless expanse. Scott let himself relax into the floorboards.

"See, it's all good if you need some time out. We're proud of you, big bro." Gordon edged closer to press their shoulders and sides together.

"Thanks," Scott whispered.

He fixed his gaze back on the sky outside, on the wide, open, beautiful sky.

"How did you know this would help?"

The fish nudged him. "Sometimes a change in perspective is what you need, getting in the ant's eye view if you will. You're too tall, the air gets thin up there."

"Like you'd get the heights, fish sticks," Scott joked.

Gordon's impression of mock offence, complete with hand clutching at his chest and shocked gasp, was ruined by his giggles.

For a moment he grew serious again, amber eyes taking Scott in. "And like literally it’s also a break so the rest of you can catch up with your brain. I get when there's so much going on up there anything extra tips you overboard."

Slowly, the world felt less like it was about to end as he briefly met Gordon eyes then turned to the blue above.

Scott bumped their heads together. "Thanks, again for everything."

"No problem, I'm always happy to help my bros."

It was impossible to miss the emphasis that this very much included Scott, despite him being the eldest.

Lying on the floor with Gordon in a pool of sunlight streaming in cut through the frantic spiralling he had been nose diving into again.

Scott calculated the windspeed outside from the movement of the small branches at the tops of the pōhutukawa trees he could see upside-down at the corner of his vision. Little bits of leaves and debris, a constant pain to clean up on their heavily vegetated island danced across the concrete patio outside.

"You reckon it's blowing about twenty, twenty-two kays per hour out there, Gords?" he said.

Gordon levered himself up and leant towards him to get a better look over to the ocean. "Yeah, thereabouts. Twelve knots."

They heard Virgil's hum from the kitchen before he chipped in, "Closer to twenty-four or so kays, I'd say."

"Bets all in?" The mirth in John's voice was obvious as he pulled up a holo, though Scott didn't doubt he had his own number in mind. "Our weather system puts Tracy Island local windspeed at twenty-two—"

Scott pumped a fist in the air.

"—Point nine kilometres per hour."

Gordon cheered. "AKA twelve point four knots, boom!"

Scott rolled his eyes and high-fived Gordon in celebration.

With several more breaths of watching the sky, he sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Ready to go, Scooter?"

Scott stood before giving Gordon a hand up from the ground. "Yeah, I am."

Coming back to the kitchen, the first thing Scott did was fall into Virgil's offered hug before he, Virgil Gordon and John gathered in a circle to work out what was next. When John got too wobbly on his feet to keep standing, he hopped up on the counter, sorting through the papers that had been stuck under the fridge magnets as Scott handed them to him. Categorised piles formed from the sticky note and post card debris heap before his eyes.

Alan's holo popped up on the com. "Hey everyone!"

Scott jumped at the sudden noise before grinning at his little brother.

"I swear I was listening but what am I supposed to be getting, again?" Alan said, twisting one of his hoodie strings up before tucking the end into his mouth to chew on.

"It's alright Alan. Get a dozen eggs, actually make that two dozen if we want to have any for breakfast another day. The blueberries, a couple of packets. Bananas, while you're at it. Maybe more maple syrup, I don't know if we're out," Scott listed as he wandered over to the pantry to check. "More cornflakes!" he yelled back.

Scott returned to the kitchen proper to stick his head in the fridge to find out about their milk situation. He turned back to his brothers after determining they were probably two days from running out.

Alan on the holo glanced up from inspecting the bottle of caramel sauce that had materialised in his hand. "Uhh guys, I kinda missed everything after how many eggs?"

Scott winced. He should've noticed Alan was distracted by the overstimulating hell of a supermarket, and that as ADHDer number three he probably wasn't going to remember all the points on Scott's rambling list, hell, Scott didn't ever remember half of them and he was the one who'd just said them. He hadn't thought—

"Scott, I've got it." John waved his phone in the air before resuming tap-tapping out Scott's dictation. "Allie, I'll send you the list once I'm done.

"Awesome, 'kay thanks! Hey, can I get ice cream, it's half off?"

"Get the one with the marshmallows and the little fish!" Gordon exclaimed as he shoved his way into view.

Alan hung up before Scott managed to get a word in edgeways. The fish of Gordon's favourite flavour were made of chocolate, not actual fish as Scott had feared the first time he'd tried it.

Alan would have the written list to refer back to, it was all alright. Scott didn't need to worry. Even if Alan had spent a while wandering the shops as One must've gotten there fast, his littlest brother had been more sensible than Scott had been in the past in calling them up for clarification. Or in the present.

It hadn't been the first time and it definitely wasn't the last, but Scott remembered getting sent out to the local shops to get bread as a teen and how he'd made sure to get everything from John's bagels, to the type of cereal Virgil liked and all the other stuff to go on sandwiches for school lunches, except he'd forgotten the bread and Dad had just sighed disappointedly, going back to his way more important work. Scott had barely managed to put everything away before bursting into tears, hiding in the kitchen by ducking below the cupboard level so no one would see at a glance. Damn, he hoped he was doing better than that with Alan.

"Thanks for the save, John," he murmured, approached to lean against the counter next to John.

Typing one-handedly, John reached out to squeeze Scott's hand with his other.

Instead of throwing himself back into the fray with frustrating emotions ready to boil over like he usually would, or joining in with whatever the fish and the tank were getting up to that involved overly loud whispering near the pantry, Scott boosted himself up to sit on the bench with John, carefully avoiding all the papers. With a quiet question so as not to surprise his brother as he was focusing, Scott ended up leaning his head on John's shoulder for a bit to rest. John leant into him too.

A change of perspective did help. Scott was doing okay. Not perfect, but well enough, no matter how hard that was to admit that when he spent too many nights up worrying about all the things he should've somehow done better. As well, some part deep inside him nudged that maybe, possibly he also deserved the kindness he gave everyone else but never himself.

Gordon spotted him taking the moment out and they shared a smile. Gordon being Gordon also gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. See? Scott told himself, Progress.

Shortly, Alan's holo popped up again, back in Thunderbird One.

"Groceries are stowed, enroute to Tracy Island now!" Alan chirped.

"FAB," sounded off from all of them.

Everyone was now listening out for the sound of One. Several stomachs growled.

Soon, soon they'd finally have pancakes.

The minutes passed in suspense. Scott put the organised papers back on the fridge, filed them over at the desk or chucked them in the recycling as John directed.

They discovered the fishtank plan in the form of the opened bag of chocolate bits being squabbled over.

"Can we make some choc chip ones too?" Virgil was practically vibrating with excitement.

Gordon unrepentantly stole a chocolate chip. "What he said," Gordon campaigned, despite Scott knowing that Gordon actually preferred the blueberry and banana pancakes as his top pick.

Finally rockets arrived with a roar, as the pool slid open and One disappeared into it.

Then the elevator dinged and Alan triumphantly stumbled out carrying far too many bags for one person.

"Good work!" Scott cheered, as he and Virgil rushed to help.

"Thanks, Scotty!" Alan lit up. "Also I'm starving."

"Well we'll soon fix that problem!"

Scott took the eggs and cracked them one by one into the bowl of dry ingredients for his pancake batter. Just to show off, he did it one-handedly. The blueberries were washed and he added them in, popping a couple in his mouth too for good measure. Someone needed to taste test, it was tradition, all the way back to the ranch and small hands trying to sneak around Mum before she bopped them playfully with the sticky wooden spoon. The berries were the perfect ripeness, sweet with that tiny edge of tartness cutting through right.

"The baking powder," Scott began, "I don't—I've got no idea if its in there or not."

The pancakes wouldn't rise it he had forgotten, they'd fall flat as unfortunate, failed pancakes. But in reverse, if he had put it in and added more—he'd made that mistake before. The resulting puffy ooze resembled a science experiment more than an edible food.

"I found the box of baking powder open on the bench, if that helps," Virgil gave him.

"Yeah, it was right next to the bowl. Looks like it had just been sat down." Gordon confirmed.

Alan's eyebrows were crumpled into an incredibly serious expression as he contemplated. "I think you probably did put it in, Scotty."

There was no guarantee. But he could take the leap, having faith in his brothers and the best guesses they all had.

"Okay, alright. The batter is done then!" he said, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster.

Virgil shooed Alan out to set the table , following with plates so there wouldn't so many cooks in the kitchen with the potential to bump the hot stove.

Gordon set the several pans to heat, guarding over them as he added butter, melting and bubbling.

Scott lingered, beating the last lumps out of the mix with the whisk. He bumped John's dangling legs out of the way of the drawers so he could dig out a ladle.

"Worse case scenario, we will make another batch. We have enough ingredients," John said quietly, just to him as the others danced about preparing things to eat the pancakes with, Gordon pretending he wasn't listening to them also.

Scott could always trust John to think through all the possibilities on missions, even, especially the hard ones. It was more reassuring to know that they had a plan if stuff all went to hell, than pretend it simply wouldn't. Biting experience had taught him better than that.

This though was just making pancakes for his brothers, not saving the world from high stakes catastrophe. His brothers, who no matter how badly he messed up would always love him.

Scott ladled batter out into the pans, flipping the pancakes over once they grew bubbly and cooked at the edges.

Even when the first one fell apart and turned out rather burnt on one side as he attempted to salvage it after flipping too soon, they all tore it to pieces and ate it anyway as a snack before the proper ones.

The next turned out golden brown, speckled with the blueberries.

Scott grinned happily, joy bubbling up inside his chest.

He made sure to make some blueberry and choc chip ones, and blueberry and banana ones, separating out the mixture. Then some all of the above ones too for good measure.

Virgil and Alan were singing along to a boppy pop song Scott would probably find stuck in his head later. Gordon twirled around the kitchen, dancing along with his wonderfully ridiculous clownfish towel swirling. John kept him company, nodding his head with the beat before he joined in the singing, swinging his legs slightly out of time, carefree. Scott flipped the pancakes, tossing them recklessly high in the air, waving the spatula and moving his whole body with the music, wiggling his hips and bouncing on his toes in excitement.

Scott ate pancakes with his brothers, closer to noon than to breakfast time but everyone swore this lot were the best they'd had. They laughed together and the weight of the world pressing on Scott's shoulders didn't feel so heavy.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #astrawrite #adhd scott tracy #neurodivergent tracies

18 notes · View notes