#pre relationship

[steddie-as-they-come]

Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.

Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.

Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.

The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.

A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."

The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."

He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.

This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.

They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.

He misses the shitheads.

No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.

Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.

It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.

It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.

Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.

In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.

"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.

"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."

"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."

He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.

She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."

Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"

"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.

Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"

Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.

Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."

"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."

Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."

"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"

Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.

"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"

"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."

The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.

Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”

Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”

“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.

Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”

“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”

“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.

Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”

Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”

He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.

Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.

Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”

Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”

Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”

The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.

part two!

#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room #one of them just got his license and im now even more worried #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #college au #pre relationship

[amidnightjen]

“What the hell is this?!”

The words startle Steve awake more effectively than his alarm ever managed and he flails a bit, almost falling off the couch until he recognises Dustin looming over him, hands on hips looking extremely unimpressed.

(Later Steve will have time to be fondly amused that the gesture came from him.)

“Henderson?” he asks, blinking up at the kid with bleary eyes. “Jesus, what time is it?”

“6:30,” Dustin informs him.

“In the morning?” he croaks.

“Yes, in the morning!” Dustin snaps. “What the hell is this Steve?”

Steve is still mostly asleep, he knows he looks like a mess and he also knows that he and Dustin did not have any sort of plans that would give him reason to be waking Steve up at six-fucking-thirty in the morning. So he says, “Sleep, Henderson. It’s sleep.”

Dustin does not look amused by this. “Do you always fall asleep on the couch with Eddie?”

Steve blinks up at Dustin, confused. “What? Eddie?”

Dustin gestures behind Steve and Steve, against his better judgement, turns his head to find that Eddie is in fact on the couch behind him. Turning put him face-to-face with the other man and Steve just sort of blinks in befuddlement before wondering aloud, “Jesus Christ how is he still asleep?” Because he genuinely has no idea how anyone could be sleeping through Dustin’s sheer volume.

“That’s all you have to say?” Dustin demands.

“It’s early,” Steve complains.

“You’re sleeping with Eddie!”

“Well i was,” Steve groaned, “right up until you started shouting. Why are you even here?”

“Sleeping. With. Eddie,” Dustin repeats in case it was lost on Steve the first time.

“It’s six thirty in the morning!” Steve points out. Again. What else was he supposed to be doing at that time of day?

“Sleeping with Eddie!” Dustin repeats like a bad record, needle skipping back and forth.

Steve is too tired for this. “Make sense or go away and come back in two hours.”

“Steve,” and Dustin sounds very serious now, “are you having sex with Eddie?”

“…no?” He squints at Dustin, a little concerned about the kid’s knowledge of sex if he’s asking that when Steve is lying fully clothed and half asleep next to an equally fully clothed and still asleep Eddie.

Dustin does not find this funny. “Then what the hell is this? Why are you cuddling on the couch?”

Relieved, Steve says, “Oh, you didn’t mean that literally.” Then he shrugs. “We must have fallen asleep down here.”

“You fell asleep cuddling on the couch?” Dustin’s voice is very dry.

“…i guess?” Steve doesn’t actually know how the cuddling came about - would he call it cuddling? - but he gets the feeling he should be more worried about what Dustin is insinuating than he is. Mostly because, “Seriously, why the hell are you here so early?”

“Apparently, to catch you and Eddie snuggling on the couch,” Dustin snipes. “Is this going to be a thing?”

Steve looks long and hard at Eddie, doesn’t let himself sink too deeply into the thoughts or the fears, just looks at him and then he says to Dustin, “Yeah, probably.”

Dustin’s outrage is not faked this time and it is loud enough to finally wake Eddie.

#july writing challenge #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie munson #pre relationship #steddie #implied steddie

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.

Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.

Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.

For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.

Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”

Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—“ Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”

“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”

“I have so many questions.”

“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”

Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”

Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”

Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.

Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.

“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.

“Take it back?”

“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.

“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.

Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”

Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”

“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”

“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.

Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”

“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.

Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”

It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.

“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”

Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.

#steddie #this is silly but it got me through work #Eddie only has the upper ground for now #later Steve gets confident and it throws Eddie for a loop #they are both disasters #I need a fun name like fruity four but just when it’s the three of them #but in love #platonic soulmates stobin #bisexual steve harrington #gay Eddie Munson #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #stranger things #pre relationship #fluff #lesbian bisexual solidarity #stobin #robin buckley #coming out

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

#hellfire adopts Steve #i just love the idea of steve being hellfires mean girl his senior year #like you cant look me in the eyes and tell me Eddie Munson wouldnt be argueing with himself constantly about #Sad Boy Hours Steve #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve x eddie #pre relationship #i just wanna see them in school together dammit #gareth emerson #i love him so much

[saytr]

#miraculous ladybug #doodle #miraculous fanart #doodles #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #comic #post reveal #pre relationship #prpr

[mrspasser]

I'll lay my head down here

Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.

Also available on A03.

image source

“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 

Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”

Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -

“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 

He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 

“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 

Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.

Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!

At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 

He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.

It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.

Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 

As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.

Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.

But…

The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.

Stiles can see inside. 

He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.

Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.

***

He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.

“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.

Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”

“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.

“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.

There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.

“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.

***

Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.

Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 

Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.

He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.

“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.

“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.

“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.

Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.

He falls asleep.

He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.

Stiles sleeps.

***

Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.

Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 

“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.

“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”

Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.

“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.

He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 

It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.

The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 

“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.

Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 

Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 

When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.

Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 

“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.

Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #written by ilse #derek hale x stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #pre relationship #ilse writes fanfiction

[morganski-19]

The One with Shaved Legs

Eddie walks into Steve and Robin’s apartment, planning on asking if can borrow a charge since Nancy has banned him from borrowing hers. But instead, he’s stood there staring at them with a hand on the door handle.

“Oh, hey Eddie,” Steve waves a greet as if what’s happening is completely normal.

“If you’re going to ask for a charger, the answer is no. Nancy already told me you’re blacklisted.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, closing it and reopening it a few times. “I’m sorry, what are you doing?”

What they are doing, in question, has Steve with his leg on a chair, wearing the shortest shorts known to man, with shaving cream rubbed all over his leg. Robin is standing next to him with a razor, delicately shaving the hair off.

“Yeah that. Robin’s shaving my leg,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, finally able to step into the apartment. “But why?”

Robin stand upright, rising the razor off in a bowl and glaring at Steve. “Do you want to tell him why or should I?”

“I didn’t know, ok I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know?”

“Did he not show up to parent teacher conference?”

“Fuck he did, I forgot.” Steve runs his hands over his face, mortified.

Eddie clears his throat. “Explanation, please. Clue in the person not connected to your weird twin telepathy thing that you have.”

“Steve’s on a sex ban,” Robin informs. “He slept with one of his student’s parents, again.”

“Divorced,” Steve clarified, “I knew that much. And he was very hot, could you blame me?”

“Yes, always.”

“How hot?” Eddie asks.

Steve reaches for his phone on the counter and almost falls over in the process, swiping through his phone to pull up the guys dating profile.

Eddie takes it and stares at it. “Yeah, very hot. Not for me, but I can see why you went for it.”

“Thank you.”

Nancy walks into the apartment. “Oh, there you are Eddie.” She takes one look at what’s happening and immediately gives Steve a deadpanned look. “Sex ban again, seriously, Steve.”

And because the timing couldn’t be more perfect, Jonathan and Argyle show up and walk into the apartment unphased.

“I forgot, ok. I wouldn’t have slept with the guy if I knew.”

“Parent again?” Jonathan asks while already knowing the answer.

“Wait, how many times has this happened?”

“Too many,” Nancy says annoyed. “The first time was in college when he slept with the TA to get a better grade.”

“That was not why, it was not grade motivated,” Steve depends.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Either way, he got a weird grade boost so we invented the sex ban.”

“It happens like once every year or so,” Jonathan fills in.

Eddie crosses his arm, still confused. “How exactly is this a sex ban?”

“We only shave one leg,” Robin explains.

“Yeah, shaving both would do nothing, now I get so disgusted by the feeling of my legs rubbing together that I won’t want to sleep with anyone. I can do with both having hair, or both shaved, just not one with both.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense.”

“I shave my legs all the time,” Argyle says unprompted.

Jonathan nods. “It’s true, he does.”

“I like how soft they get.”

“Very soft.”

“You’ve touched his bare leg to feel how soft it is,” Eddie questions.

Jonathan shrugs. “Hard not to when he does that thing where he shaves and then makes me feel how soft it is.”

“Because I want someone to appreciate it,” Argyle reasons.

“Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate it.”

Argyle rolls his eyes. “Well, you could have said it.”

“Your relationship still confuses me.”

Robin finishes the last stripe on Steve’s leg, swishing the razor in the bowl of water. “Done, go rinse it off.”

Steve brings his leg off the chair and walks to the bathroom with a wide stance, so he doesn’t get any of the shaving cream on his other leg. He comes out with a clean leg.

“You missed a spot.”

“Even better.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #spicy six apartment schenanigans #friends au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #modern au #steddie #ronance #jargyle #pre relationship #for alll of them though

[steddieas-shegoes]

pinned with a look

for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'pin'

388 words | rated g | no cw | tags: pre-relationship, meet cute of sorts, single parent steve harrington, why yes steve "safety is so important" harrington did invite a man he doesn't actually know to his apartment, i only have 388 words so take it up with the other mod

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

The elevator doors opened and Olly jumped over the crack.

"Daddy, I made it! You need help?" He asked Steve as the person who was on it stepped out with a smile.

"No, I'm gonna be careful," he smiled at his five year old son as he made an exaggerated step over the crack. "You remember what floor we're on?"

Moving into this apartment building had been good for them, but it had been very stressful. Steve was all about safety, and it was important to him that Olly knew his address and how to get to their apartment in case they ever got separated in the building.

"Five like how old I am!"

"Yep! You wanna push the button?"

Olly nodded and pressed the button with a somewhat faded number five.

Just as the doors were starting to close, someone shoved their arm in and muttered 'thank god.'

"Daddy said you're not supposed to stick your arms and legs in if the doors are closing. You can get hurt," Olly pinned the stranger with the bitchy glare he definitely inherited from Steve.

The stranger smirked,kneeling down to get on Olly's level. "You're absolutely right. I could've been hurt and I shouldn't've done it. Thanks for reminding me."

Steve ignored the way his heart skipped at how this stranger was talking to Olly, pinning him with his own look of mild suspicion. Most people didn't like being spoken to by a kid like that. Why did this guy seem fine with it?

"So you won't do it again?" Olly asked him.

"I swear on my Uncle Wayne's life that I won't do it again Sir…" the man leaned his head forward in question.

"Olly."

"Sir Olly. I, Eddie James Munson, promise to be as careful as possible from now on."

The elevator doors were now closed and they were going up, but Eddie had never pushed what floor he needed.

Turns out he didn't need to.

As the doors opened on the fifth floor, Eddie stepped out with them and turned to the right. He started walking down the hall and then turned back.

"Apartment 586B if you have any more safety instructions!" He called to them.

Eddie pinned Steve with a look he knew well.

"586A if you want homemade ravioli for dinner!" Steve called back.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmarch #pre relationship

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: Missed Mistletoe

“Oh, Robbie!” Steve sing-songed out in a tone of voice that told Eddie he was up to no good.

Robin didn’t seem to notice, just giving a questioning hum in response, her head still stuck in Steve’s tv cabinet, looking for something to watch.

“Looks like you missed something.” Steve continued to sing, slowly approaching her from around the coffee table.

“What-?” Robin poked her head out, looking confusedly in Steve’s direction who had turned on the innocent big puppy dog eyes, twirling a sprig of mistletoe that he’d plucked from somewhere.

“No, Steve. Absolutely not.” She said, backing away as he continued to approach. “You keep those boy cooties away from me!”

“You gotta pay the toll, Birdie.” He shook it at her again as he approached.

Robin turned her eyes towards her girlfriend and Eddie, perched the couch, painting their nails.

Chrissy shrugged at her. “You gotta pay the toll, baby.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just sulked down at the polish.

He didn’t get told to pay the toll. 

He’d have loved to be told to pay the toll.

A high pitched squeal made him look up and he was treated to the sight of Steve chasing Robin around the room. Though she was shouting at him to stay away, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and he knew Steve wouldn’t be pushing it if Robin was actually uncomfortable. 

She made a sudden break for the stairs and while Eddie could hear them scrambling up, Chrissy nudged him in the ribs.

“Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting. I don’t pout. If anything I’m brooding.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Okay, stop brooding then.”

“How can I? She’s stealing all my kisses.”

“He probably doesn’t know you even want to kiss him.”

“Have I not made it obvious enough?”

“Have you said it to him, using your big boy words? Or have you just stared at him wistfully from across the room, hoping he would get the message.”

Eddie glared at her, scowling at the nail polish bottles before muttering “The second one.”

“Exactly.” Chrissy gave him a condescending pat on the head. “Maybe try a new strategy.”

“Chris!” Robin screamed from the landing, throwing the sprig of mistletoe she’d somehow managed to wrench from Steve’s grasp through the air towards them.

It was way too wide of a throw but Chrissy wasn’t cheer team captain for nothing, stretching over the coffee table as it skidded along the wood to catch it before it disappeared over the ledge.

She sat back with a little fist bump to herself, bringing the sprig close to her cheek before Steve materialised next to her, snatching it back and smacking a sloppy kiss against that same cheek and taking off again to the sound of Robin’s outraged screams.

Eddie crossed his arms and turned what he hoped was a heartbroken expression on Chrissy.

“Now you’re stealing my kisses? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend, and as your best friend I’m telling you you need to make it more obvious and not just hope he gets it.”

Eddie huffed, turning his eyes around the room before his gaze landed on the bundle of mistletoe tied over the front door.

With a new plan in mind he pushed himself up to standing and dragged one of the sturdier looking end tables over the floor until it was sitting just underneath his prize.

“Ed, what the hell are you doing?” Chrissy asked, watching him like he was a cat trying to climb into a Christmas tree.

Eddie clambered up until he was nearly eye level with the greenery. Jesus, Steve’s doorways we’re tall. The end table was a little wobbly but it was fine. He was pretty sure it was solid wood and it would probably take a train running over it to break it.

“Making it more obvious.” He muttered, tongue between his teeth as he tried to untie it from the small nail it had been attached to.

“Oh my god, Eddie-” she muttered to herself, drowned out by the unmistakable sounds of Steve finally capturing Robin up and pressing wet sloppy kisses to her cheeks while she weakly shrieked about boy cooties in between her giggles.

Eddie nearly had it, he just needed to change the angle a little bit and-

He stepped back a little too far and felt his stomach fly out of his throat with that sickening feeling of stepping through nothing, like missing a step on the stairs.

There was a great big clatter as the table teetered out from underneath him and then he was falling.

He felt the impact the whole way up his back as he landed hard on his ass, momentarily breathless and shocked as Chrissy screamed out for him.

The back of his head throbbed. He’d probably hit it against the door on his way down and he rubbed it gingerly with a grimace as he sat up properly, feeling the tenderness right at the base of his spine.

“Eddie?!” Steve’s panicked voice reached him and he blinked his eyes open to see the man himself skidding to a stop next to him and crouching down, his eyes worried.

“‘M fine.”

Well.

So much for that plan.

He tried to wave them away but winced again when he moved his head.

“Can you girls get me one of the ice packs from the freezer?” Steve asked.

Robin and Chrissy nodded to him, their eyes worried before turning and rushing out towards the kitchen.

Steve turned his furrowed brow back towards him. “Any nausea, double vision?” 

“I’m not concussed, Stevie, don’t worry. Just a little bruised.”

“What on earth were you doing?”

Eddie looked up at Steve hovering over him, his great big concerned eyes and his pink pouting mouth. He felt his own eyes slide from Steve’s face up towards the mistletoe which was gently rocking side to side, still above the door.

Steve followed his gaze up and huffed out a little laugh.

“Y’know,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “I had a plan for that, if you’d only waited a few hours.”

“You… what?”

“I was gonna use that to kiss you before you left.” Steve pointed up, grinning down at him while Eddie could do nothing but blink.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Eddie was forced to close his eyes at his own mortification, letting his head fall back against the door, ignoring the pain that came along with it.

Something lightly bumped him on the head and bounced into his lap. 

When he opened his eyes, he looked down to find that same sprig of mistletoe he’d tried to untie had fallen down, hitting him on the forehead as it made its journey directly towards his fucking dick, because the universe was funny like that.

He chanced a glance up at Steve who was also staring down at it, his cheeks getting even redder.

Eddie swallowed down his nerves before asking “Pay the toll?”

Steve snapped his eyes up and grinned leaning forward and Eddie thought for one horrifying moment that Steve was gonna do it. That it was going to happen in front of his obscenely big front door and out in the open where the girls could walk back in at any second.

But Steve just gripped Eddie by the chin and leant forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Oh.

Yeah, that was just as good.

But based on the look on Steve's face, he didn't think it would be too long before he could claim the toll fully paid.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #penny ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #robin buckley #stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #dailydrabble #missed mistletoe #christmas #mistletoe #pre relationship

[holdmytesseract]

When a God Loves a Woman

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N (Pre-Relationship)

Summary: Loki and you get paired up on a mission, much to the god's dismay - but not because he doesn't like you, no... Quite the opposite. He's hopelessy in love with you. How is he supposed to get through this mission?

Warnings: Loki being a cute idiot in love, pining/bit of mutual pining, a few suggestive things, fluff, swear words, thirst? short mention of weapons? short mention of drugs, mentions of a w*nst - blink and you'll miss it

Word Count: 5,5k

a/n: This is a request from my wonderful friend @fictive-sl0th ! 🥰❤️ I hope you are going to like it - and everybody else, of course as well! 😁

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not," Loki stated; crossing his arms over his chest. Tony blinked in disbelief. "What does that mean 'No'? Are you kidding me, Laufeyson?" The god squinted his eyes at his 'team colleague'.

"You must be deaf - or stupid, metal man... Perhaps even both. No... I said no." Tony growled; was already annoyed. "Thin ice, Reindeer Games, thin ice." The billionaire took a few threatening steps closer. "Listen. I don't care what you want, princess. You are the one who needs to prove himself to Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D - and basically the whole world. So if you don't want to end up home and get send into a cell by daddy, you should cooperate now." Loki's jaw clenched; knowing that Tony was unfortunately right. "I'm calling the shots at this mission - which needs to be a success, and if I'm telling you to team up with Y/L/N, then you're going to fucking do it. Are we clear?"

The god was positively fuming with anger - and despair (which Tony didn't notice). "Yes," he hissed. If looks could kill...

It's not that Loki didn't want to team up with you. In fact, he wanted nothing more in his life - and exactly that was the problem. About a year had passed now since he'd been sentenced to prove himself worthy and make up for the chaos he had caused. He became an Avenger - no matter if he liked it or not. It was his only chance to escape the dungeons on Asgard.

It had been a bitter pill for the god to swallow; without a doubt.

Earning the team's trust wasn't easy. Everybody despised him; was suspicious - except you. From the first day he arrived at the Avengers compound, you tried your best to give him a warm welcome. You were nice, kind and sweet. At first, Loki didn't like this at all; thought it was just a fake show you put on. A little game you played or something. After all, why should you have mercy? Why would you accept him? It simply couldn't be.

So, Loki pushed you aside - several times; cold-shouldered you. But you stayed stubborn and continued to treat him friendly - like he deserved and didn't let yourself get shoved away by the god for long. It took a lot of time (and energy), but at some point Loki realised that your intentions were pure. You really meant it. He realised, that you gave him something what nobody else did... A second chance. And from then on, he let you in. Step by step, of course, and slow, but he did.

He talked more to you, spent more time with you, trained together with you - and at some point it came how it had to come... Loki fell in love. Hard. Something he wasn't willing to admit, of course. Norns, he'd rather die than admitting that he fell in love with a Midgardian woman. He also didn't want a single soul to get a whiff of this, so his mission was to keep it a secret - no matter what it took.

The problem was, that preserving this secret turned out to be more difficult than Loki thought. It wasn't easy for him to keep his cool around you; given the fact that he didn't feel this kind of love for ages. By Odin's beard, he felt like a lovestoned teenager! Therefore, he tried to avoid being too close to you - not always successfully, though...

"Good boy."

Tony's words brought Loki back down to earth; out of his head. He clenched his jaw. The anger flooding through his veins was back. Full force - but nevertheless, he tried to control his temper and keeping his mouth shut.

"Why don't you like to be in a team with Y/N anyway? I thought you two get along quite well - or did I misinterpret the situation? Do you have a problem with her?" Tony asked suspiciously. Loki blinked. "No, I-" Before he could say something he'd regret later, the warning bells in his head started to ring at a deafening volume; causing his brain to switch into defence mode immediately.

"I mean yes. Yes. I don't like her. She's annoying me."

The billionaire frowned; crossing his arms over his chest. "You're confusing me, Reindeer Games. No, then yes. Geez, you're worse than a diva. Do you have a problem now with Y/N, or not?" Loki was a hairsbreadth away from grabbing Tony by the lapels of his shirt and throwing him against the nearby wall of the conference room.

"Yes," the god hissed. "I can't stand her." To say those words hurt him deeply; his heart wincing in pain - but for Loki, there was no other way.

"Well..." For a moment, Tony's expression was understanding and almost soft - but then he shrugged his shoulders. "Your problem. The teams are set. I don't care. Make it work." With those words and another shrug, the billionaire turned on his heels, walked away, "See you tomorrow, princess." and left the room.

Loki's eyes followed him, before he squeezed them shut; shaking his head. A sigh left his lips. "How foolish..." He mumbled. "How foolish of me to think Stark would cooperate." Running a hand through his raven curls, he returned to his room. Tomorrow was going to be a hard day for him...

The next day arrived way too quickly - and Loki had slept way too less and spent the whole day thinking about that damn mission, causing him to be the first to stand by the Quinjet; waiting for his 'team mates'. It was an awkward situation. Usually, he was never the first - except today.

Tony arrived only ten minutes later; a shit eating grin spreading over his whole face as he saw Loki. "Well, well... Eager, are we, Reindeer Games?" Loki just rolled his eyes; certainly didn't have the nerves for the billionaire's stupid little games.

"Mind your own business, Stark."

Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Oooh and we're already in diva mode?" The god clenched his jaw; was about to say something not exactly nice to the billionaire, when a booming voice cut through the air. "Ahhh, brother!" It was Thor, of course.

The god walked over to Loki and Tony with a broad smile on his face. "Finally, the time has come! We're on a mission again together!" He said happily, giving Loki a harsh slap on the shoulder. Loki coughed, "Yes, brother, I am thrilled." and glared at Thor - who didn't even notice his younger sibling's discomfort.

"Ah! Don't fret, brother!" Loki rolled his eyes subtly; already questioning his life choices. But when he crossed his arms over his armour clad chest and slightly shook his head, the god's eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of somebody approaching the team. It was Natasha - and you. Loki's gaze immediately got stuck on you - against his will; eyes widening. "This is going to be..." Thor's words faded as Loki's mouth fell agape and suddenly the world seemed to turn in slow motion around him.

You walked casually beside the Widow; your Y/H/C untamed hair flying in the wind. Unlike Natasha, you wore a white and black body suit. Several pockets were attached to it. For comms, weapons and other gear. It was tactical and convenient, but also form-fitting and especially tight. It showed off your curves to perfection - and by the holy roots of Yggdrasil... You looked stunningly sexy. Not that Loki didn't see you before in your mission gear - but you had never worn something like that before.

"Norns, give me strength..." Loki whispered, before he was able to prevent it; attracting Thor's attention. "What did you just say, brother?" "Nothing!" Loki almost shouted in slight panic, before clearing his throat. Get a hold of yourself, Laufeyson!

"I mean... Nothing. I didn't say a word."

What the god didn't think of, was that his eyes were still locked on the beautiful woman only a few meters away from him - and Thor noticed; raised an suspicious eyebrow, as he followed Loki's gaze. "Um, brother, you're staring."

Fuck.

Loki's eyes widened even more; cheeks turning pink as he quickly pulled his gaze off you. "No, I'm not! You must be blind, brother! Or hallucinating!"

Thor wasn't stupid, though. He knew exactly what he saw - and Loki's reaction only proved his assumption to be right. The god said nothing, only smiled, before he went to greet his fellow team mates.

"Ah, greetings, Lady Romanoff and Lady Y/N!" Natasha gave him a smile and a nod. "Hey Thunderboy." You smiled and waved at him. "Hi Thor!" While the Black Widow went to join Tony already on the Quinjet, you walked up to the Asgardian princes - which caused Loki to get slightly nervous.

"Is that new a new armour I see on you, Lady Y/N?" You giggled; nodding. "It is. Nat told me to try something new and I needed anyway something more... functional, so... Do you like it?" You turned in a circle; showing off your new outfit - much to Loki's dismay. He felt his breath hitching in his throat; his chest seemingly growing tighter - just like the space within the front of his leather trousers.

By Odin's beard... How am I supposed to survive this mission?

"It suits you very well, Lady Y/N!" "Thanks, Thor." Then you turned to Loki. "How do you like it, Mischief?"

Like it? LIKE IT?! I love it. It makes me want to pin you against the wall of the Quinjet and ravish you right then and there.

"I agree with my brother."

"Thanks! Now, let's go, boys. I bet Tony's waiting already for us and we don't want to make our diva angry, do we?" You prompted; already entering the Quinjet - which caused the fabric of your suit to bend and stretch around certain body parts even more.

Shit...

You sat alone in a corner of the Quinjet; checking your weapons and mentally preparing yourself for the task ahead, since Tony had announced that you'd arrive soon. Then you heard steps approaching you. Familiar steps. You didn't even have to look up to check who it was. You knew.

"What's up, Nat?"

Your best friend sat down beside you. From the corner of your eye, you could see that she had already changed. A beautiful black, long-sleeved dress was hiding her catsuit underneath. She looked stunning - as always.

"He's into you."

You frowned immediately; were taken aback by the Widow's words. Nat was definitely not somebody who beat about the bush...

You looked up to face her; seeing her lips curled upwards in a smirk.

"W-What, I- Who?"

"Laufeyson." Natasha spoke out the god's name without even blinking; kind of shocking you.

"Whaaat?" You laughed; shaking your head. "No fucking way. I mean, yes, he probably likes my body - like the handsome naughty little shit he is, but that doesn't mean he likes me. Loki has a lot of women and men..." Natasha raised an accusing eyebrow. "Babes, no... Sorry to disappoint you, but Loki didn't have somebody in months."

You frowned. "How do you know that?" Your best friend shrugged her shoulders. "Bruce's apartment is across his and trust me, babe... I hear if he's giving somebody a really good time, 'cause fucking hell, he apparently does." You almost choked on your own spit by her words. "Nat! You cheeky minx!" Again you got just a shrug, accompanied by a grin.

"Okay, let's say you're right... That doesn't mean he's into me." The Russian beauty rolled her eyes. "Y/N... Sorry to say that, but... Are you blind? I don't mean what happened earlier. Sure, his eyes almost popped out of his head, seeing you like this - but that was just another proof." Now you were the one raising both your eyebrows.

"Another proof? What is that supposed to mean now?" Your best friend giggled; shaking her head. "You really didn't notice." "Notice what?" You asked almost desperately know. "The way he's looking at you? How his mood always seems to lift when you're in the room? He smiles - as soon as you're around him. The way he opens up to you? How kind he is to you?" You blinked; staring at your best friend.

"Uhhh, no? I, um, no..." "You should pay a bit more attention then," Nat said; winking. You were still a bit stunned and overwhelmed by those 'news'. That was never your intention. "I... I didn't mean to... I was just trying to be kind. I always knew there's more in Loki than just the bad guy everybody thinks he is. All I wanted was to give him what he deserves... A second chance and a way to proof everybody wrong."

The Widow smiled; placing a hand on your shoulder. "Well... It seems like you were successful in bringing out this other side of him. There is more. You were right about that. But it also seems like you tickled something else awake inside of him... Feelings." "Feelings?" "Feelings. That man is head over heels for you." You bit your lip. That wasn't what I wanted... "Are you sure?" Natasha stood up again, "To 100 per cent." and walked away with a smile; leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You sighed; leaning back against the wall. Your head hitting the metal with a soft thud. You couldn't help but to think about what Natasha said. He's into you. Perhaps it was true and your best friend right, but... What were you feeling? Was his love... requited?

You swallowed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes upon, with his long, raven curls, chiselled face and trained body. You loved his wit, how utterly charming he could be, how eloquent he was, how well-read, smart and his other-worldly humour. You liked to spent time with him and talk to him. You'd even go as far and say you were some kind of friends, but love? Not yet.

But when you closed your eyes and thought of Loki, you could easily picture a future with him as a couple - and who knew... Perhaps it was going to happen.

Okay, maybe you had a tiny crush on him.

"Alright. Everybody knows what to do. Let's get those documents, so we can finally make sure that this asshole gets behind bars," Tony spoke and everyone nodded.

The mission was... Well, you wouldn't exactly say easy, but with a good team perfectly manageable. The Avengers got the assignment to help the police to get one of the biggest drug dealers of America - and literally the whole world finally behind bars. Bernardi had always managed to slip the F.B.I through their fingers the past years. Now it had to end - and it was going to.

Today was a big gala in New Haven, Connecticut - the best chance to get Bernardi. But to finally convict him, important documents of the next big drug deal were needed - and they laid safely in a safe in his security monitored and secured suite in the big building, where also the gala took place.

The plan? Tony was going to hack the security camera systems, to make you and Loki - who were going to sneak through the ventilation shafts of the building and actually 'steal' the documents. Nat was going to attend the gala with Thor as her backup and caused distraction - if needed. This time, it was no 'going like a bull at a gate' task. It was no big fight or war. It was some kind of movie like spy mission - and you were hyped.

You didn't understand first, why Tony hadn't sent you and Nat to get the documents, but then you realised that Loki and Thor probably weren't the best duo to attend the gala together. Their cover would probably blow up faster than Tony's patience...

"Y/N, are you coming?" The soft, low timbre of Loki urged to your ears; causing you to blink and snap out of your thoughts. "On my way." You checked if you had everything you needed, then joined your team mate. "Ready, partner?" Loki smiled; gesturing for you to walk down the ramp of the Quinjet. "Lead the way, milady."

Tony had given you the exact positions, coordinates and maps. Loki 'was just your helper' - like the billionaire put it and 'had to follow your orders'.

You sneaked around the big building at the dead of night; looking for the exit of the ventilation shafts. You were quick to find the exact one Tony told you to find and quietly removed the grid, while Loki's eyes scanned the area for any 'intruders'.

"Let's go." You grabbed Loki's attention with your words; nodding towards the ventilation shaft. Just when you were about to climb inside, Loki stopped you. "Y/N, wait! I, uh, I think I should go first." You turned to face him; looking a bit confused. "Why? That wouldn't make sense, Mischief. I have the maps. I know where to go. That's why I..." You climbed inside the ventilation shaft. "... go first. Now come!" Unbeknownst to you, squeezed Loki his eyes shut; face scrunching. "Loki!" "Coming!"

He sighed, then followed you. It was dark inside, of course, but you had your torch and Loki, well, his seidr. Nevertheless, the light source in addition with his position gave Loki the perfect view of your ass; sending shivers down the god's spine. Exactly what he wanted to prevent. Sure, he enjoyed the view, but it was also torturous. You were close and yet so far. "Norns... Can this evening get any worse?" He mumbled underneath his breath, while crawling behind you. "What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing!"

After crawling through the tight, dark space and crossing endless corners for what felt like eternity, you finally announced that you and Loki had reached the destination - the tenth floor of the building.

"Oh!" You abruptly stopped; causing Loki to almost bump head first in your bottom - head first. "What?" "I think we made it. According to Tony's plans, this must be the exit we have to take. The tenth floor." "Let us do that then. My knees hurt." You giggled; working on getting the hatchway open. "Not used to kneel a lot, are we?" "Sounds like you are." Loki answered dryly, without even blinking - and your jaw almost dropped. A blush creeping up your cheeks. He just couldn't help himself. You had given him the perfect opportunity.

"No! I-I mean... I do a lot of work on missions which affords... Kneeling and crawling." The god nodded, but gave you a cheeky smile. "Sure, Y/N. I do kneel from time to time, too."

Gods... You felt the heat in your cheeks increasing, so you busied yourself even more with the hatchway - and to your sheer relief it clicked open mere seconds later. Carefully, you peeked out; head first, looking for any signs of security guards. "Not a single soul to be seen. The coast is clear." You sat up; ready to jump, when your partner stopped you for the second time. "Allow me to go first this time." "Alright." Loki jumped and you followed; the hatchway falling close behind you.

The hallway you had landed in was big with white, clean walls and a black tiled floor. It reminded you of a hotel, but also didn't look like such at all.

"Where to now, milady?" Loki whispered; just in case. "We have to find Bernardi's room," you answered in a hushed voice; pointing down the hallway. "This way." The god nodded; following close behind. So, you sneaked down the hallways; crossing each corner carefully. Another look on the map told you that you weren't far from your destination, when you suddenly heard voices - and they came from behind you.

"Securityguards!" You whisper-yelled at Loki, who looked surprisingly just as panicky as you did. Well, after all you were in a hallway... Not exactly many opportunities to hide there. Loki was about to just teleport you somewhere else, but before he could make use of his magic, you had reacted faster and literally shoved him inside a little broom closet you had spotted mere seconds ago. With one hand clasped over his mouth, the other gripping the lapels of his leather coat tightly and your back stemmed against the door, you hid away from the nearing threat. It caught Loki completely off-guard of course, but he found himself once more enjoying the situation. Your touch. The roughness of it. He liked it.

Once you were sure he wouldn't make a single sound, you let go of him. "Sorry. I just had to make sure that-" "I know," he interrupted you, nodding. You nodded back at him; staying quiet. You had to wait until the security men passed. Unfortunately, though, the broom closet was everything but spacious. Quite the opposite... tiny. And with cleaning supplies all around the two of you, it was a really tight fit. So tight, that body contact was inevitable. Your chest almost touched his. You were so close, you could feel his minty breath on your face. Loki's chiselled bone structure looked even more handsome from this point of view - and dear god, had he always smelled that good? Like a mix out of leather, blood oranges and charred wood? You couldn't explain why, but it smelt so comfortable to you. So rich and musky, yet sweet.

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Focus, Y/N, focus.

Unbeknownst to you, Loki had the exact same problem; struggling even harder. His hands almost trembled from holding back from touching you. He would've loved to just kiss you right here and now; your scent intoxicating him. But he couldn't, and he knew that.

"I think we're good to go," you breathed out then; slowly lurking through the crack of the door. "Come."

Loki had noticed the slight tremble in your voice - and it sparked something inside him... Hope. Perhaps he had a chance to win your heart. A chance he never thought he had. And maybe, just maybe he shouldn't see this mission as a burden, but as the first shot he could shoot.

Loki knew that women liked to be wooed. So, he decided to try to impress you. After all, he had conquered already a lot of hearts. He knew how it worked. But you... You were different. You had conquered his heart first - and you didn't even know it.

Wordlessly, the god followed you, until you had reached Bernardi's room. A complicated lock adorned the door. Easy access? No chance. "Alright," you stated; switching on your communication device. "Tony. We're standing in front of the room. Pick the lock." The billionaire answered immediately. "Consider it done, Y/N." "Perfect."

Tony's 'consider it done' took longer than you anticipated... Almost fifteen minutes had ticked by and the electric lock still hadn't moved an inch.

"Hey Tony, what's taking so long?" "It's more complicated than I thought. Give me another minute."

And even another minute wasn't enough. So slowly, Loki grew impatient. After all was the risk very high of getting caught by security guards any momenr. Rolling his eyes, he stepped over to the door and placed his hand on the lock. "Loki? What are you doing?" You asked, eyes widening. "Unlocking this damn lock." You blinked. "And, uh, how?" The god gave you a smirk; "Seidr, darling." winking.

Not even a second after he said that, a green cloud enveloped the lock - and it clicked open. Your jaw dropped. "Woah... That's... That's pretty cool."

Step one of impressing Y/N: Done.

"Tony, we got it." "Yes, I can see that... How?!" You smiled; following Loki inside the room. "Mischief." You could practically hear how Tony rolled his eyes at your answer.

After tiptoeing through the big, spacious room and 'stealing' the documents like professionals; you and your partner left again, as if nothing happened. Loki even managed to fix the lock with his magic.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" You nodded; checking your watch. "We should, yes. The 10 o'clock patrol will pass this hallway in exact... ten minutes. Either we hurry, or tell Thor and Nat to distract them." "I know I have no say in this mission, but I would recommend option two, Y/N. Better safe than- uh... How's this Midgardian saying going again?" You giggled - music to Loki's ears. "Better be safe than sorry." "That's it, yes. Thank you." "I guess you're right... Nat, can you hear me?" "Loud and clear, babes." "Perfect. Can you and Thor distract the 10 o'clock patrol up here? We won't make it in time." "Sure thing!"

Well, unfortunately, it turned out they couldn't...

Just as the two of you rounded the corner into the hallway of the ventilation shaft, rounded a group of five security guards the other corner. You and Loki stopped immediately in your track; standing like frozen to the ground. "Well... Now we have a problem." The guards noticed you, of course, immediately. One of them gave you an angry look. "Indeed we have," the bulky man snarled; switching on his walkie-talkie. "We have intruders on the tenth floor. Most likely burglars; calling for back-up." "Understood, Sir. Back-up is on the way."

Now you were really fucked.

You sighed; cracking your neck and prepared to fight. "Guess we'll have to-" That was the moment Loki had waited for. The ultimate chance to impress you. His hand on your arm interrupted you; pulling you gently behind himself. "Stay behind me, darling. I am going to take care of this little... issue." Loki stepped slowly forwards - like a wolf stalking its prey; read to fight, when suddenly something caught his attention... A small loudspeaker box hanging high up in the corner where both hallways met.

Smiling mischievously; he snapped his fingers. Let's put on a little show for the lady.

The security guards didn't know what was coming their way. Especially not as 'Holding Out for a Hero' by Bonnie Tyler started to echo through the empty hallways. And before any of them could react, Loki had already started his attack. Unlucky for the men, they were just as surprised and kind of shocked how you were. The god moved gracefully; dodging here a kick and there a punch. The security guards didn't stand a single chance. Not even the back-up - and by the end of the song, Loki had knocked out every single man who had stood in his way.

You just stood there; mouth agape and not quite knowing what to do or think. Loki though, had a victorious, smug and self-confident smirk on his face. Running a hand smoothly through his black curls, he leaned casually against the wall. "There we go. They won't bother us anymore."

Loki didn't quite know what he anticipated of your reaction. A nervous smile perhaps. Reddened cheeks or a impressed facial expression - but he certainly didn't anticipated what came his way... "Umm... Thank you? But I could've taken care of them as well. I know, uh, how to fight."

The god had a hard time hiding the shock on his face. And the embarrassment, which followed only a few seconds later. She didn't like it. She thinks I'm stupid. I made a fool out of myself. He face-palmed himself internally.

Swallowing nervously and clearing his throat, Loki stepped away from the wall again; trying to somehow 'save' this situation. "Sure, I... I know that, of course, Y/N. I just... wanted to be... nice." "Well, I appreciate it. Thanks." Before an awkward silence could settle between you and him; the god cleared his throat once more. "We, um, we should leave." You nodded, "We should, yes." and watched him turn on his heels; quickly walking away.

Therefore, Loki couldn't see how a dazzling smile spread across your face. Whatever it was what he just did - or tried to do... It was very sweet of him.

The rest of the mission went smoothly. You and Loki made it safely and uncaught out of the building.

When you reached the Quinjet, Natasha stood on the ramp, already changed in her black bodysuit; grinning. She said not a single word as you and Loki passed her by, just kept grinning. You gave your best friend a confused look; mouthing: "What?" All she did was winking, before she followed you as the ramp closed shut behind the three of you.

After you had handed Tony the documents and the Quinjet was in the air again; heading towards New York, you decided to seek out the Widow.

"What was that grinning about, huh?" You gently poked her side to get your best friend's attention. She turned to face you; smiling again. "Oh, nothing. Just Loki fighting off thirty guys alone," Nat said with a wink. "And this got you smiling, because...?" You looked expectantly at her, not quite getting what she was insisting.

"Gods, Y/N/N... You truly are blind," Nat stated; shaking her head and crossed her arms over her chest, before she walked towards the metallic door. "He did that in order to impress and most likely to protect you. That man is in love with you. Open up your eyes, babes."

The Quinjet landed quite late at night on the compound. Only a few lights were on; signalling that most of the other Avengers were already asleep.

"Alright, guys. See tomorrow," you bid your goodbye to your fellow teammates. After hugging Natasha, you turned to Loki. "Good night, Mischief." The god gave you a soft smile. "Good night." Then you turned and walked away; following Nat and Tony.

While Loki couldn't help himself, but to stare after you with mixed feelings about the last few hours coiling within his stomach, Thor came to stand beside him.

"You are staring again, brother." He stated simply; smiling. "I'm not-" Loki wanted to immediately reject Thor, but the God of Thunder spoke faster. "Do not try to deny it, Loki. I saw everything. You tried to impress Lady Y/N with fighting off those men." Loki's eyes widened at Thor's words - proofing the god to be right. "You... saw that?" "Yes, brother. We all did."

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. The cameras.

He couldn't control his body longer; a blush creeping up his cheeks. Thor laughed heartily; clapping him on the shoulder. "No need to be ashamed, brother. I am truly happy you found love - and Lady Y/N is a great woman, if I might say so."

Loki grumbled, but knew very well that he had lost this game. "I don't think Y/N feels the same, brother. I made a fool out of myself. I will never win her heart."

Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulder, shaking his head. "No, you did not make a fool out of yourself. I tried to impress Jane a lot of times and failed." "Yes, because you're an oafish ape. I'm not," Loki mumbled under his breath; inaudible for Thor. "Don't you give up. One day, Lady Y/N will be yours."

After the kind of awkward conversation with his brother, Loki headed straight to his little apartment in the tower. He considered to go to bed straight away, in order to escape the hold you had on him, but he also was aware that his mind wouldn't switch itself off so easily. So, instead to forget you, he decided to fully indulge in his thoughts, heartache and fantasies, and took a very long shower; whimpering your name over and over again in his throes of pleasure at the imagination of you in that damn body suit.

Now the god was standing naked in front of the sink; staring at himself in the mirror. His damp raven curls falling loosely over his shoulders; pecs still glistening with water, causing a few single water droplets to drip from his chest hair.

Loki took a deep breath; shaking his head. "I'm fool... I'm such a fool..." With one simple snap of his fingers, he was perfectly dry. He sighed. "... and hopelessly in love."

After slipping into a fresh pair of boxershorts, he went to bed; laying awake for seconds. Minutes. Hours? Just like he anticipated. The god stared at the dark ceiling above him, arms crossed behind his neck; thinking. Until suddenly his mobile vibrated for a second; announcing that he just received a message. Frowning, Loki turned to reach for his phone on the bedside table and unlocked it - only for his eyes to widen. You... It was a message from you. Quickly, he entered the chat to read it.

Hey, Mischief. Just wanted to say thank you again for fighting off the bad guys. Very cute. Thanks.

Loki's whole face lit up. Cute? He was smiling so bright, like he had probably never did in his life before. She thinks I'm cute? His heart skipped a joyful beat.

Perhaps was his brother right... Perhaps hope wasn't lost yet and one day... One day you will be his.

#the baby fever au #pre relationship #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up to Pierce the Veil, this morning.

He buries his head in his pillow and screams as loud as he can.

Of course, it does nothing. The music is playing inside his head, because his father is the most annoying being ever to pop into existence. Apollo’s children get whatever song suits their father’s current mood — not a good sign that it’s emo today, fuck — blasted directly into their cranium as the sun crests over the horizon, every single day, just so they know how much their dear papa is thinking of them.

Will, however, is head counsellor. And as head counsellor, he gets his daily brain torture exactly one half hour before the sun rises, because fuck him, apparently.

Has he not been through enough.

He screams again, quieter this time, conscientious of his still-sleeping siblings. The song does not go away. It will not go away until he is on his feet, any chance of unconsciousness having swiftly betrayed him.

The creaky floorboards groan in protest as he slams onto them, not bothering to remove himself from his blankets before rolling onto the floor. He considers remaining there, in the fetal position, strangling himself in his tangled sheets, for twelve point three seconds. Then he remembers he has a stupid shift in the stupid infirmary that he stupid runs, and forces himself to get up.

“Being alive is a prison,” he laments hoarsely. It has, tragically, considerably less effect when there is no one awake to hear his complaints, because it is four forty-two in the godsdamn mcshitting fucking morning.

His father is not getting so much as a grape as an offering today. He’s going to scrape an entire plate for Auntie Artemis.

He takes an extra-long time brushing his teeth, spitefully determined to be two minutes late for his shift. No one will notice, because no one is awake. The thought soothes him.

Nine minutes to his shift, he forces himself out of the bathroom and pads over to his dresser. He has no surgeries planned, today, so he’s not gonna bother with the scrubs, and he’s gotta do inventory, so he needs pockets. He picks out his head medic shirt and his lucky cargo shorts and starts to dress himself, squeezing his eyes shut to try and force his muscles into keeping him awake. He can do this. It’s fine. He’s got training with Nico today, so that’s something he can look forward to. If he can distract Kayla and her teasing mouth with training Gracie, he can ogle all he pleases as the son of Hades attempts, for the ninetieth time, to teach him how to use a sword without beheading himself. It’ll be great.

He barely manages to swallow back a shriek when he misses the leg hole for his shorts and goes sprawling.

Fuck mornings. This is an omen. He should go the fuck back to sleep.

As if hearing his thoughts, the stupid song in his head blasts louder. It’s hard to make out the words with all the screaming and drums and all, but he’s almost certain he hears the lyrics, don’t you dare!

“Al-right,” he snaps, scowling. “I’m going, I’m going. Lemme get my damn shirt on, yeesh.”

It takes him a second to find the head hole in the dark — because the godsdamn sun is not up yet — but after a minute of fumbling he manages.

He realizes, the second he tugs it over his chest, that something is wrong.

“What the —”

Now, Will orders his shirts in bulk. He has to. He’s the only one wearing them, after all, and the sheer amount of times per day that he is covered in bodily fluids is a number he chooses, for sake of his sanity, not to count. He is well used to the process of ordering his shirts along with other linen and infirmary supplies. Every fortnight, without fail, he orders a set of orange Head Medic t-shirts one size too big, because it gives him a little breathing room without being too baggy.

When he pulls on this shirt, however, it practically clings to his skin. He can practically feel the fabric groaning as it stretches over his broad shoulders.

And, worst of all — the hem barely brushes the edge of his ribcage.

“Austin,” he growls, practically lunging for his drawer to inspect the rest of them.

As he suspected, each one of them has shrunk. If it weren’t for the Head Medic decal printed across them in bold, Will would assume his laundry was mixed up with Yan’s.

“Why do I still try to assign him laundry duty,” he hisses, cursing himself for his oversight. He’s been busy lately — he didn’t do a very thorough job writing this week’s chore chart. He must’ve put Austin on laundry, and Austin is never allowed to do laundry, because for whatever reason, no matter what he does, he ruins someone’s clothes.

“Fuck!”

His watch beeps at him, LED display reading five o’clock. His shift has already started. All of his shirts are shrunk, and he’s out of time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He shoves his feet into a pair of flipflops, sprinting for the infirmary. Hopefully, today is on the warmer side, or else he’s going to freeze, on top of looking ridiculous. Fuck.

———

Thankfully, the first couple hours of his shift are blissfully empty and quiet. With no one to distract him, he manages to finish the laundry list of chores he’s been putting off the last week — nectar and ambrosia restock, cabinet reordering, file sorting, et cetera. He has the place spick and span in under ninety minutes.

Unthankfully, he starts to get bored fast.

Feeling an awful lot like his father, which is unfortunate, he begins to slip into what his siblings call “the dramatics” (and what Will calls rational emotional responses, but, take some, lose some). Without his permission, he begins to glance at the door every few minutes, disappointed every time no one is there. He spins around his desk chair, kicking half-heartedly at the desk. He sighs, once or twice, with a tone that he would call tastefully bored and Lou Ellen might label as histrionic. After a half hour, there is on his face, Will cannot deny, a pretty big pout.

In his defense, he can hear the sounds of the rest of the camp waking up through the open windows: laughter, cursing, yawning, Drew chasing her siblings around the camp with her knife, shrieking, promises to return stolen hair straighteners, begging for mercy. Morning sounds. Familiar sounds.

“Ugh,” he mumbles, sinking back into his chair. Then, for good measure, he frowns harder and repeats with more feeling: “Ugh.”

As if summoned by his yearning, disparaging loneliness, the little bell by the door rings as someone stumbles in. Will brightens, jumping to his feet.

“Hi!

“Hey, Will, could I get some ambrosia, Sebastian stole Drew’s straightener and she — woah.” Mitchell freezes. “Um. Woah. Huh?”

Will rushes over to the supply cabinet. “Yeah, of course! I heard the screeching, did she stab him fully or just slash him? Should I come over? Should he come here?”

“Hnngh,” Mitchell says.

Will frowns, hands stilling on the ambrosia. “Mitchell? Are you okay?” He tilts his head. “You’re — really red, dude, maybe you should —”

“I! Hngh! Am fine!” Mitchell shouts, scrambling back from Will’s outstretched hand. He won’t meet Will’s eyes. “Actually, Will, you know what? Sebastian needs to learn, actually, and he’s barely even bleeding, so I’m gonna —” He stumbles backwards, knocking his head into the doorframe. “I’m just going to! You keep that, Will, I’ll chest you — see! I will see you later! Goodbye!”

He turns away and flees, leaving Will alone, again, with a container of ambrosia hanging limply in his fingers.

“That was weird,” he mumbles, and turns to put it back away.

———

Mitchell is far from the first Incident — capitalised, because they are indeed Incidents — of the day.

Maybe a half hour after Mitchell leaves, two more Aphrodite campers walk in. Will smiles, turning to greet them, but before he can even say anything, they shriek in unison and sprint off. As silly as he knows it is, a bubble of hurt begins to bloom in his chest — is everyone actually avoiding him today? Or does it just feel like they are?

(The ADHD makes it hard to tell. He gets his feelings hurt really easily, and constantly has to remind himself what is and isn’t rejection. It doesn’t help that he sometimes feels trapped, as one of the only campers with vitakinesis and therefore constantly in the infirmary. It’s hard not to feel a little isolated. But usually, he’s got his friends and his siblings to remind him he’s not alone. Hopefully, today is just a fluke.)

Nobody else comes into the infirmary during breakfast. Will eats the oatmeal one of the nymphs brings him, smiling at her and thanking her profusely — he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. She leaves pretty quickly, too, but a lot of the nymphs are kinda squeamish around the infirmary, so Will doesn’t think too much of it. In fact, he‘s put most of his shitty morning behind him until Kayla walks in for the start of her shift.

“Huh,” she says, after a solid minute of staring.

Will shifts defensively. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just preparing for our day, brother dear, pay no mind.”

“You are so strange,” he mutters, but he’s long since given up on trying to understand her.

For the next hour, things are almost normal. He and Kayla chat as the freshen up the linen on the cots, treating the odd camper who comes in for lava wall burns or sword scrapes. The infirmary is rarely ever empty once the camp activities start, but in terms of numbers, today’s a pretty slow day. Will starts to feel fidgety pretty quickly.

“Oh, ho ho ho.”

Will grins when he hears his friend’s voice, shoving his clipboard aside and standing to greet them. Lou Ellen and Cecil linger by the door, matching grins on their faces. (Which, usually, would be cause for great alarm, but Will is so bored and so happy to see them that he decides, just this one time, that whomever they’ve just robbed will just have to be an unfortunate victim. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too valuable.)

“Hey, guys! Please tell me you can stay for a bit. I’ve still got a few hours left of my shift and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course we’ll stay, Willy,” Cecil says innocently. “How could we refuse with such a wonderful view?”

Will is too happy to bother correcting him about his name.

There’s not much to do, so the three of them sit by the nurse’s station and chat. If anyone asks, they’re talking strategy for the upcoming capture the flag game, but really, Lou Ellen heard Damien White from Nike and Chiara Benvenuti from Tyche arguing behind the canoe shed again, so they’re talking shit.

“I honestly don’t get what she sees in him,” Lou Ellen whispers, and Will is nodding fervently, “Right? I mean if she’s happy then good for her, obviously, but come on —”

“Hey, Will?”

Will leans around Cecil, looking for who called him. A group of maybe nine campers crowd around the door, all standing behind one of Cecil’s sisters, Julia. Many of them are giggling.

“We, uh, totally need your help.”

“Here we go,” mutters Cecil. Lou Ellen starts snickering.

Will hardly hears them, absentmindedly grabbing his stethoscope and toolkit.

“What happened? Was there a fight, do you need —”

“Rosamie’s leg is, like, super sprained.” Julia gestures to a younger girl behind her. “We got her this far, but she needs you to lift her to a cot so she can rest.”

“Hermes’ fucking wings,” Cecil says under his breath.

“O….kay,” Will says slowly. “Did you…all need to come for that?”

“My heartbeat is all weird,” pipes up a boy from the back. “I need you to look at that.”

“And I need a band-aid!”

“I broke a nail.”

Their voices start clambering over each other, rapidly getting louder. Will holds up a hand, silencing them.

“Okay, okay, I hear you. If you’re fine to walk, head on over to a cot, I’ll be with you in a minute. Julia, can you help Rosamie —”

“Can’t,” blurts Julia quickly. She holds up her arm after a beat if hesitation. “Totally pulled a muscle. You’ll have to carry her.”

Will furrows his brow. It’s Mitchell all over again.

“Okay, I guess.”

Unwilling to have a group of campers loitering by the doorway any longer, Will gets it over with, scooping up Rosamie with a hand under her knees and behind her back and carrying her to the nearest cot. Will knows that everyone experiences pain differently, but she seems awfully giggly for someone whose leg is apparently sprained.

A cacophony of giggles erupt as he sets her down.

“Gods, Will, do you work out?”

Will flushes. “I do the same training as everyone else, I guess.”

“Cool.”

Will looks at them strangely. How is that cool? He glanced back at his friends, eyebrows raised, but they’re hunched over the station, badly biting back laughter.

“Maybe everyone’s got the flu, or something?” he mutters to himself, even though he knows that’s not true.

He makes quick work of healing the group of campers. Most of them are fine — he couldn’t even find a sprain on Rosamie, but wrapped her knee anyway in case there was more pain. They left as quickly as they came, giggling to each other and running down the porch.

Without even a minute between, another group of campers barged in, just as giggly as the first.

The rest of his shift is chaotic. People practically pour into the infirmary, all with minor, barely there injuries — and all of them demand Will’s help.

Will is no stranger to busy days, but this is nothing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t get it,” Will remarks to his sister in a rare minute of calm, totally bewildered. “It’s like everyone’s suddenly got glass bones.”

Kayla blinks at him. He stares back at her, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” she drawls, after a minute. She looks him up and down. “What a deeply confounding mystery this is.”

Twelve campers rush in before he can ask her what she’s talking about.

By the time Will manages to escape, it’s an hour past the end of his shift, and he’s crawling out the window in the back office of the Big House to avoid the crowd of people at the front door.

“Solace? What are you doing?”

Will yelps, losing his delicate balance and falling face first into the flowerbed. Low, raspy laughter curls around the air, and Will goes bright red.

“Just let me pass away,” he mutters, curling around a crushed daisy.

Nico snorts. “You are such a drama queen. Here.”

After another quick second of wallowing, Will takes his offered hand, letting him pull him to his feet. His shorts are smeared in dirt and there are flowers in his hair. Frantically, and uselessly, he tries to brush himself off.

“…Damn,” says Nico slowly. When Will chances a peek, he finds his friend looking him over, slowly dragging his eyes from head to toe. If at all possible, he goes even redder. “So it is true. You are walking around half-naked today.” Nico grins, wide and wolfish and teasing, and Will genuinely has to grab the wall behind him to keep upright. “No wonder the rest of camp has been so empty.”

“Is that what it is?” Will cries. “The infirmary has been — packed! All day! And no one has been hurt! They’ve been — they came for —”

“I think they came to watch the show, Solace.”

Will lets out an agonised wail. Alongside the flush so bright it puts his father’s cows to shame, he feels himself start to glow, like an flaming beacon of idiot.

“They’ve been demanding I carry them around places!” He looks at Nico, aghast. “I’ve been doing it!”

For a moment, Nico tries bravely and valiantly to keep a straight face. But then Will remembers the camper who told him he lost feeling in his hands and asked Will to hold his biceps to try and get them back, and his face must absolutely crumple in mortification, because Nico loses it.

“Zeus, Hera, and Hades,” he gasps, doubled over. “Oh my gods, Will, your face, you —” He cracks up again. Genuine tears pour down his face. Sometimes he manages to calm himself down, but then all he has to do is look at Will’s horrified grimace and he breaks down again, until he is literally writhing on the ground, holding his stomach.

“Oh — oh gods, I’m gonna — I think I’m gonna throw up —”

“I hope you choke on it,” Will says hotly. “I won’t help you. I will let you die. You’re a horrible friend.”

Nico shrieks again. Will has never seen him laugh this hard, ever, which is wildly unfair because he’s been practicing jokes with Piper in an attempt to see him smile more often, and this is what finally gets him?

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, Solace,” Nico sighs, finally starting to calm down for real. The smile on his face doesn’t go anywhere. “Help me up.”

Will pouts. “Whatever.” He should leave Nico there to rot, but he reluctantly clasps their palms together and yanks him upright. He goes to pull away, but Nico squeezes his wrist, holding fast.

Will stares at him with wide eyes. Slowly, his wide smile thins into a crooked, downright dangerous smirk.

Will goes weak at the knees.

“I know you’re going to go get a bunch of new shirts immediately,” he murmurs, and honestly, who gave him the right to a voice like that? Huh? Who did Will piss off? What does he need to do to make amends? “But, well.” He glances down, then back up, smirk widening. “If you wanted to wear that shirt when you’re ogling at me during training, I wouldn’t mind. Might even the playing field.”

And then, because the gods actually hate him, Nico winks. He lets go of Will’s wrist and saunters off without another word, idly swinging his sword as he whistles.

Will crawls back into the flower bed, face plants in the dirt, and yells for ten whole minutes.

#in my oblivious will pov era. please enjoy a couple thousand words of his melodrama #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #will/nico #nico/will #pining will solace #down atrociously bad will solace #whipped will solace #smooth nico di angelo #idc idc argue w the wall #dramatic will solace #he is his fathers son #pre relationship #flirting #human disaster will solace #my writing #fic #longpost

[cutielights]

OMG can you please do the pre-relationship hcs with Leo?!?! The Donnie one was so good

Ofc! <3 Donnie’s one

Tw: none

Hanging out with Leo pre-Relationship (g/n)

Play it cool play it cool play it cool

Doing his darn best with those one liners

Over the moon if he gets you to laugh

Nobody distract him he’s doing skateboard tricks for his crush FRIEND His PLATONIC friend

Tries cheesy pickup lines

Doubles down if you engage in said pick up lines

Watching Jupiter Jim together

He’s shown drinking tea in a few episodes so y’all are just gonna take a rare relaxing moment

Showing you his favourite hidden city places if you don’t already come from there

Hanging out on rooftops at night

“You know what’s more beautiful than these stars?”

“What?”

“Me.”

“Sure Leo.”

Buying pizza to eat under the stars

Only to get rained on

Using his portal to save the precious dish

And yourselves

He almost accidentally hit your head whilst making a portal in the effort to impress you

Don’t tell Donnie, Raph can’t deal with anymore shouting

Playing video games together

The Lou Jitsu one

He is not a gracious winner

Even co-op games get turned competitive

Mikey wanting to join in

Much to Leo’s dismay

#rottmnt leo #rise fanfic #rise headcanons #rise leo #rise Leo headcannons #leo x you #leo x reader #rottmnt hc #rottmnt x reader #rise leo x reader #leonardo x reader #leonardo x you #rise leo x you #leo headcannons #pre relationship #leo fanfic #anon answered #anon <3

[strige-art]

Dai 1: Pre-Relationship | Sneaking Around | We Need To Talk

Okay, I stretched the pre relationship prompt a bit because I had this scene in mind for a while.

One of the many missions after Kanan joined Hera, after the events of A New Dawn.

Of course, during the TV series we saw him do this stunt without any problem, holding the blaster with two hands and jumping like a cricket without losing control.

But here he was definitely out of practice, not connected with the force and probably in hang over so, well…he had to hold on somewhere!

Hera probably explained to him the importance of respecting personal space later. XD

Fortunately, she is the best pilot in the galaxy and certainly doesn't go crashing over something like this!

#kaneraweek2023 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #digitalpaint #art #star wars #star wars rebels #kanera #pre relationship #fan art #star wars rebels fanart #my art #digitalpainting #artist of tumblr #kanera week 2023

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie draws on the edge of Steve’s hip, where his shirt rides up from stretching across Eddie’s bed. He’s humming to himself a song Steve doesn’t recognize, but it soothes him.

“What are you drawing?” Steve speaks softly; something about the moment feels gentle. He doesn’t want to break it.

“Hmmm, it’s a secret.” Eddie peaks beneath his bangs and smiles.

Steve leans up on his elbows, “Well, that’s not fair; I think I should know what’s going on my body?”

Eddie only looks at him with mischief as he continues to doodle. “Be grateful, Harrington. You’re getting an original Munson for free.”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes him. It is just like Eddie to say something like that. Playful and mean, it makes something settle in Steve. For a long time, he only knows the pain from harsh comments or a sentence with a bite. It is a welcomed change, to feel a bubble of happiness after a light jab.

“Whatever you say, Munson. Just let me see.” Steve tries to push up further to sneak a peek, but Eddie uses his free hand to push him down to the bed. He just happens to catch Steve off guard, sending him into a sprawl that can only be described as a starfish.

“I’m not finished yet.” Eddie grabs his hips and pins him still while he draws. After a few more moments, he says, “Done!”

Steve looks at his work and releases a snort that breaks the careful tension between them. “Are those boobs?”

“Why yes, they are, and a good representation if I say so myself.”

“Do you even know what boobs look like? Like the live version?” Steve knows he should be mad at the sharpie-drawn breasts on his body, but he can’t find it in him to have an angry tone.

“We’ll no. I don’t. And I would much prefer to keep it that way.”

Steve chokes on his spit a little bit, “Did you just come out to me, Eds?”

Steve isn’t sure what he expects. Denial, maybe, Eddie taking back what he said. Steve knows he isn’t handling this right. He doesn’t think Robin would be too happy with his response.

Steve thinks maybe he should see a little bit of fear in Eddie’s demeanor. That shakiness that comes with telling someone a dangerous secret.

What he gets, in the end, isn’t something he could have predicted. Eddie smiles softly, a little bit of his tooth peeking out, and lays his head gently on Steve’s leg. He’s calm and collected. He’s happy, Steve realizes.

“Yea, I guess I did. Not like it was much of a secret, though. Are you upset?” Eddie draws soft circles around the drawing on Steve’s hip—the rough callous on his thumb contradicting his tender touch.

Once again, although the conversation should be anxious, it’s not. Eddie’s question is spoken like he already knows the answer. Maybe he does.

“No, Eddie. I’m not mad. Never would be for that. Just thought it was a funny way of sharing a secret. Though, gotta admit, a very you way of doing it.”

This time Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, before settling back down on Steve’s leg. His giggles never really settled. “Like I said, Stevie wasn’t much of a secret anyway. Well, between us, that is at least. I like to think some, if not all, the kids are oblivious.”

“Erica definitely knows.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in mischief, “Oh, for sure. Pretty sure she would kick the others' asses, too, if they gave me shit for it. And she kicks hard too.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. He’s never had this before, this casualness to serious conversations. Before, Steve is used to screaming and punching, drunken confessions in the bathroom, and throwing up on the mall floor. It isn’t like this, now, with Eddie in his trailer bedroom. It’s good. It’s safe.

“Thank you for telling me, Eds. Something like that is hard to share no matter who you tell it to.”

The softness is back again, “Like I said wasn’t much of a secret. Besides, I don’t think there isn’t any secret of mine you don’t know, Stevie. I think even when I don’t tell you, you kinda already know, don’t you?”

Steve leans one arm forward, while he places his weight on one elbow. He gently takes Eddie’s face in one hand, rubbing circles in the same motion as Eddie’s thumb on his hip.

God, I want to kiss him so bad sometimes, Steve thinks.

“Yea, I already know.”

#steddie #stranger things #I needed something soft #it’s been a long week #they know they love each other but sometimes it’s hard to say #I’m not sure if this makes sense but it made me happy so shush #steve harrington #pre relationship #pre steddie #they are falling in love #Eddie Munson #platonic stobin #only briefly mentioned #Robin Buckley #ficlet #fluff #steddie fluff #my writing #steve x eddie

[reagi-df]

Runt and Usagi: Bonding

A bit of lore notes

Spending your whole life fighting for your place in the world makes you realise your nothing, Runts just been going from one fight to another. The Heads need strong soldiers and if your not strong enough then your as good as dead.

Runt is the prodigal son and has high expectations, groomed to be The Heads finally weapon against the Kraang, however being sent on the mission to try and bring in Mikey, Raph and Donnie into the fold is their down fall, as Runt begins to realise how messed up his upbringing was and gets to know what it’s like to have a family.

Usagi is the bastard child of the Usagi family, sent to The Heads as a last ditch effort to see if he’s worth anything. All he’s ever wanted was to be loved by his parents, to not be cast away like he had been, and he’d do anything to show his family he’s worthy even if that means betraying the ones he called friends. He’s always had to live in Runts shadow, even when he’s way ahead of the turtle.

The Heads want the Shredders armour and he’s sent to retrieve it when Runt fails in his mission.

(Please ignore the young runt and usagi drawing it was a last minute 😂 also still trying to figure out how to draw them young)

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #runt au #leosagi #leoichi #pre relationship #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rise usagi #rottmnt usagi #save rottmnt #rise of the turtles #rottmnt fanart

[wikiangela]

I'm comin' back, don't let me go

rating: G

word count: 7.3k

tw: mild suicidal ideation

summary: Buck's post-lightning breakdown takes him on a drive through the country, fighting not to give into his dark thoughts - a phone call from Eddie might be all he needs to lead him back home.

[read on ao3]

___

As soon as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot at the station, he thinks he doesn’t wanna go home, like all the time lately. Well, he doesn’t wanna go to his loft. He’s not sure he can call it home, it’s- it’s not. It probably never has been and never will be. He thinks he knows what home feels like, with Eddie and Christopher, if he’s even allowed to think about their house like that. That’s his home, that’s where he feels safe and comfortable, and like he can just be himself, and be wanted. 

He doesn’t want to go to the loft. He doesn’t want to go home, either, doesn’t wanna bother Eddie, worry him, when he has no explanation for how and why he feels the way he feels. His screwed up head is his concern, Eddie is probably busy anyway.

Ever since he died, Buck has been feeling… off. Numb. Sad. Exhausted. He’s not even sure how to explain it, how to voice it, so he doesn’t. When people ask how he is, he says he’s fine. And he is, he swears he is. He’s okay, he’s alive, he has his amazing friends and family, a job he loves, everything is fine. But… but. He’s not sure what the hell is wrong, but a part of him is not fine. Hasn’t been fine since the lightning strike.

[read on Ao3]

#buddie fic #buck driving fic #angst #evan buckley angst #emotional hurt/comfort #wikiangela writes #pre relationship #tw sui ideation #< not really but just in case #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fic #roundabout love confessions bc eddie couldn't shut up lol #self indulgent