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#get together fic
ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 11 months
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Before Your Kisses Turn Into Bruises
Summary: Kaz is stuck in a time loop. No matter how many times he tries, they still end up dying in his arms. Is there anything he can do to change this fate?
Word Count: 3360
CW: Blood mention, food mention, cursing
Kaz took a step forward, his cane thumping along with it. Anger mixed with protectiveness within his stance. It turned his voice cold and loud, passion running through it like water under a frozen canal. “No! You aren’t going on-!” He took another threatening step forward only to find himself back in his Slat office. The subject of his ire was now nowhere near him. Instead, he knew for a fact that they were approximately halfway across the district with as few cares in the world as a Barrel rat could have and listening to a street musician.
He growled in frustration and slammed his cane against the floor, listening to the sound reverberate in time with him. “Dammit!”
He had lost count of how many times this exact thing had happened already. Ten? More? Too many, that’s all he cared about. Too many times had he found Y/N, bruised and battered and seeming to only be hanging on to their life by sheer spite, only to have time seem to rewind and find himself back in his office. Even now, he had been through this same process so many times, each time only having few changes outside of what he did, he knew exactly where they were in that moment. 
Right then, they were watching a street musician play at the mouth of the Government District and would be there for the next few minutes. After that, they would go on a job Kaz had assigned them a few days ago. Little had he known it was almost a suicide mission he was sending them on and he wished with every fiber of his being that he hadn’t assigned it to them.
He had been through the night enough times to know how it would end. Y/N would come back to the Slat with bruises so dense across their body, their natural skin color would be almost unrecognizable. Kaz’s heart stuttered every time they came in with the bruises, every time he saw the blood running down their side and that determined look in their eye that said they would report what they knew or bleed out trying. Even before this Never ending Night, he hated to see them with even the smallest mark across their skin, no matter how it was inflicted. It was times like that that he wished he was the type of leader who could pull someone into his office and patch them up while getting the report. Instead, all he could do was order them to one of the gang’s mediks to get patched up before they, “stained my good rug with your blood.”
Kaz shook himself back to the present and picked up his coat. He breezed out of his office, coat slung over his arm and cane tapping the ground in an angry staccato. Just as he was in the middle of the entryway, he had an idea to possibly change this night again. Pausing, he turned and scanned the room until he found someone he wanted. He briefly spoke to the other Dregs member, who scurried away as soon as Kaz was finished speaking to them.
With his plans starting to come into place, he stepped out of the Slat and started down the street. Soon enough, he came to the street corner where Y/N was listening to a traditional Kaelic instrument being played. Their eyelashes fluttered against their cheeks as they kept their eyes closed to feel the music better. They leaned against a building, their hand gently swaying to the music. Kaz thought they looked like sound in human form, as if they were going to spring into a dance at any moment or fly into the wind and never be seen again as they spread joy to all who came across them.
When Y/N’s eyes opened, they seemed to instinctively find Kaz in the shadows on the other side of the square. There was a look in their eyes that did something to Kaz, a gravity about them that always tugged at him. It threatened now to pull him closer and into their orbit, closer than he would let almost anyone else get. He managed to resist that gravitational pull, but only just.
If he were free of his mind, he could stride over to them, sweep them into his arms, and show them just how much he thought of them. He’d kiss Y/N so soundly, they would be clinging to him to stay upright. They would be breathing heavily, eyes staying closed even when they both pull apart for air. He’d press them against the wall the way he’d seen other men do with lovers, using it to support both their weight as he pulled them insistently closer, as if they were the last breath of air he would ever breathe.
Instead, he watched as Y/N made their way across the small space of the intersection and came to stand at his side. “Kaz?” They asked, eyes shining in the light of the streetlamps and making them look ethereal. “Did you need something, Boss?”
Kaz shook himself out of the spell. “The job I had you on for the night. It’s canceled.”
“What?” Y/N stepped around him, blocking the alleyway he was turning down. “What do you mean? Did it get rescheduled? Or . . . “ Their voice trailed off, eyes betraying the fear that kept them from thinking of the alternative: that Kaz was deliberately taking them off a job he’d given to them specifically.
Y/N took a step back, disbelief on their face waring with the knowledge of the truth and the hurt they felt at it. “Kaz. You wouldn’t, would you?”
He sighed and continued his steps back to the Slat, a defeated Y/N trailing behind him. “I didn’t take you off the job because I thought you couldn’t do it. I did it because you’re needed on a different one tonight. Someone else is already filling the first one.”
The energy back in their steps caused them to quicken until they were walking two abreast. “This one better pay the same or more than the previous. Tonight was supposed to be my last job and you know that, Brekker.”
Kaz felt his heart twist at the mention of their plans and the impersonal address. Y/N was someone he had picked up off the streets himself. They’d been stealing from those under Dregs protection and had even managed to pickpocket a few of the Dregs themselves. When Kaz caught them being bold enough to go for Wylan’s bag, he’d offered a deal. Work for Kaz and pay back what was stolen, or be prepared to not be looked at kindly by anyone in the Barrel. They made the right choice and Kaz sent them on thieving jobs, what they were best at. Occasionally, they were sent to rough someone up or be a spider if it was needed. They did their job well, sneaking in and out of crowds with the same ease as most spiders sneak around buildings.
Their indenture almost fully paid back, Y/N had made it no secret that they planned to leave Ketterdam as soon as they were free from the Dregs. They’d even gone so far as to say there would be nothing they would miss and Ketterdam would hold no lost love from them.
Love.
Kaz loved them. The revelation was so sudden, it almost made him stop in his tracks. He stole a glance at the Dregs next to him, wondering at the thought that made everything fall into place. How had he been so blind as to not see it before?
Quickly, he stepped down a different alley at the nearest crossroads, changing the plans for the evening. Y/N stayed silent next to him, unaware of his original plans nor his new ones. It didn’t take long to come to the sparkles and glam that was the showier side of the pleasure district. Y/N stayed close to him as they wound through the buildings.
Eventually, he stopped at a small theater that was out of the way but always showing something. Y/N bounced on the balls of their feet, a throwing dagger slipping into each hand. “What’s the mark here, Kaz?”
He glanced up at the title of the play being shown. He didn’t know why he’d come here. Maybe he needed to think.
No, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why he’d come here. If his life was this one night repeated forever, he was going to have at least a few turns of it be good. He wanted to take them here, to watch a play and talk about it like a normal courting pair. Because he wanted to court them.
Ghezen, he was in deep.
He knew from previous loops that no matter what kind of interference he ran on the job, it always ended the same way. So, he was taking them away from the job. If even his presence on it with them caused them to still almost die in his arms back at the Slat, there was nothing to be done about the job. Let the other Dregs deal with it, they could have other methods of avoiding the danger or getting stitched up by the mediks. Right now, Kaz was being selfish. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t bring them close and whisper sweet nothings into their ears. Nor could he kiss them the way he wanted, keep them safe in any way possible except this way.
So, if the ambush always results the same and Y/N never remembers the previous tries through, there was nothing left to do on the job but not go. Instead, he switched his tactics to being selfish. He wanted to spend this night with them, even if it was the only night he would ever see again, especially if that. If they were to leave him as soon as their next job paid enough, the most he could do for himself is to spend this one night telling himself he did what he could. He needed to show himself they didn’t want him, not the way he wanted them. The way their eyes shone wasn’t for him, their smile wasn’t broader when he was around, their humming and dancing was not for him to experience. He didn’t deserve them and they didn’t want him and he needed to use tonight to truly understand that.
So, they sat together and watched the show. Y/N asked if the job was in the theater and Kaz just squeezed their hand through a glove and told them to enjoy the play. When it was over, Kaz took them walking down the pier where there was some dancing and music, a few people offering snacks. Kaz paid for the food, a welcome warmth against the chill of the night. Y/N hummed along to the music.
Kaz watched them, the way they almost seemed to glow from the inside with joy at the music, the tapping of their feet that begged to dance, even just the way they held themself was gorgeous. His eyes couldn’t move from them, as if he could commit that moment to memory the same way he did numbers and documents.
All of a sudden, it was pulled away. One moment Kaz was staring at Y/N and enjoying life, the next he was breathing in the smoke tinged air of his office. No matter how many times it had been cleaned, nothing could remove the smell of Per Haskell’s old pipe. Kaz took a few more greedy gulps of the almost rancid air to clear his head.
The next sequence went much the same as that one. Kaz found them in the square, called off their job, and asked for their company for the rest of the night. Even so, all they could talk about was Y/N leaving. They sat on a park bench in the brightly lit University District and Kaz asked about where they planned to go when they paid him off. They didn’t say, only that they might never step foot in Kerch again.
Kaz felt his heart break again just as he found himself back in his office, sitting in his chair and looking out the window.
Not willing to give up, he did it again. He hastily pulled his coat on, yelling to a Dregs to take Y/N’s job, and stormed out the door. He stopped once again at that street crossing, watching Y/N soak in the music as if it were the one thing to energize them. He stepped through the crowd, watching the way they mouthed along with the song. He had done this exact moment so many times, Kaz was sure he could sing along with the song himself. 
When they opened their eyes, Kaz was in front of them. “The job is off, someone else is handling it for the night, I need your company instead tonight.”
Y/N nodded, their eyes wary. “Okay, boss, what are we doing?”
He took a deep breath and did the only thing he could. “Whatever you want. I’m paying off the last of your indenture from my own pocket. If you want to consider this your last night in Ketterdam, so be it. Just know, you will always be a Dregs. You can keep doing jobs and get more money, keeping all of it. Even if you don’t, you bear the Crow and Cup and that marks you as one of us until the day you die.”
Y/N nodded, eyes soft with unshed tears. “Kaz, I-”
“You don’t need to say anything right now. Just allow me to spend this night with you doing whatever you wish.”
Y/N shut their mouth and instead started walking down the street. Kaz trailed behind them, keeping watch for anything that would ruin the last time they would spend together. If he wasn’t to be pulled out of this night, he didn’t want his last memory of them to be walking away from him forever or dying in his arms. Instead, he wanted their smile lighting up brighter than the moon, he wanted their joy wrapping him in the warmest cloak ever. He wanted them. Pure and simple. There was nothing else he could do but want them, even if they forgot what had happened come morning.
That time around was the easiest with them and the best one. Kaz kept every moment locked in his mind, determined to remember every detail of how they looked in the moonlight, their joy and light and the essence of them that had pulled him from a dark place.
Finally, both lounging in Kaz’s sitting room that had replaced his attic office, Y/N brought it up again. Leaving. Kaz couldn't help the way he felt heat rise in his chest, as if the long buried anger from many rounds ago had finally caught up with him.
“Why?” The word came out so cold and hard, as if it were an icicle he hurled at them in defense of his thawed heart.
Y/N took a step back. “Kaz? Why what?”
He sighed, hands clenching on his cane in an attempt to rein in the anger they didn’t deserve directed at them. “Why are you leaving? Is this place not good enough for you? Are you so desperate to seek out more you are willing to trample others to get there?”
Y/N’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Kaz, you’re starting to scare me.”
“Good!” He almost threw the word at them. “Be scared, be as scared as I am!”
With that, it was like a gate opened and the words came pouring out like water. “Because I’m scared, deathly so! I’m scared of putting a name to the feelings I’ve had for years now, scared that as soon as I put that word to what I’ve been feeling that my heart will shatter at the impossibility of it all. Scared you’re going to leave me, to go away to someplace else and find someone who can love you the way I’ve always longed to. I love you so much and I’m so scared of losing you and this is going to kill me if it keeps happening.”
Without realizing it, tears had started to course down his cheeks. “Please,” his voice started to break with the effort of admitting all of this. “Please, Y/N, don’t leave me, you can’t. You can’t go away and find someone soft to love, I don’t know what would happen to me. I’ve dragged myself up tooth and nail with just the sight of your light to guide me, I don’t know what would happen when that light is no longer there. I’m-I’m not strong enough to do this alone, I need you. I know it’s not right, it’s not fair, it’s selfish of me to say it. But I’m a selfish man so, please, stay with me.”
“Oh, Kaz,” they started, taking a step closer to him.
Kaz backed up. “No, I don’t need your pity. If you’re going to leave, just do it quietly. I don’t know what would happen should I actually have to watch you leave.” He dropped into his chair, head falling into his hands to hide the tears and give himself a moment to recover. “Please, just, do as you wish. Don’t let me influence you.”
Footsteps crossed the floor until Y/N was crouched before him, ducking their head down enough to see him. “Kaz, darling, I’m not going anywhere.” They laughed. “The only reason I said I would leave is because I love you.”
Kaz raised his head slowly, brows furrowed in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
“I love you but seeing you always being so cold to me, I thought you didn’t feel the same. So, I was determined to leave Ketterdam and leave you alone. I thought it would be better that way. It broke my heart to decide and every step closer, every word we spoke about it tonight, only tore my heart into smaller pieces.”
Kaz looked into their eyes, his gaze intent and searching. “Do you still want to leave?”
Y/N shook their head, a smile and laugh brightening the room. “Not in the slightest. I’m here to stay.”
Before his courage and elation could fail him, Kaz stood and pulled Y/N to their feet as well. One hand went up to cup their cheek, leather sliding against skin until they fit together perfectly. The other hand held their waist, pulling them in. For a brief moment, Kaz stared at their neck, watching the skin there faintly pulse in time with their heartbeat. He needed to know they were alive, and there with him on dry land, not dead in the water.
Y/N looked at him with those eyes he adored so much and he couldn’t help but lean in and press his lips to theirs. It was gentle and soft and only lasted for a few heartbeats before he had to pull back, the water rising around him. Already, he could feel the cold and wet hands grasping at him and threatening to drag him under again.
Y/N smiled at him, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “Oh, look, the sun’s rising! We rarely ever get such a clear view of the sunrise unless it’s a countryside job, but I do love it so.”
He turned to look out the window at the night finally coming to an end. He was still there, seeing the sunrise for the first time in a week. Smiling, he pulled Y/N in again and kissed their face, feeling the puffs of their breath on his cheeks and chin as he worked his way around it. Those kisses would not be reset, they would not be wiped away to be replaced with the bruises of a job gone horribly wrong. Those kisses would instead stay on Y/N’s smiling face.
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wolfstarshipping · 9 months
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The Things We'd Do For A Coffee Maker (6805 words) by AllThisAndLoveTooWillRuinUs Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter muggle AU, fake dating
Summary: In which to cover up a lie to Lily, Sirius and Remus have No Choice but to get fake married.   “So what you’re saying is, you’re planning to marry Sirius for. . . fun?” “And for a coffee maker, yes.”
Comment: This fic had everything I want from a fake dating fic, and the premise of Sirius sending Lily a fake wedding invite to get a free coffee maker is just so hilarious, if you haven't read it already I highly recommend reading it!
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theresthesnitch · 1 year
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13 please!
Ohhhhh yes. I love that you asked for this one.
Send me an ask about my WIPs.
So, for Knot Fest, I wrote two fics that were Starking, Those fics are in the series Knot the Time (Knot the Place). In them, I referenced an implied established Moonchaser multiple kids. This fic is the establishment of Moonchaser in that universe.
Basically, it starts at the end of Hogwarts, and Remus is Sad Boy™️ because he's not going to be able to get any sort of stable job because of his lycanthropy. James, comes up with a solution
“What if I could help you, Moony?”
Remus looked up from the book he was reading, lounging in the window seat of their dorm room to relax at the end of what ended up being a long day. However, several hours after their conversation that morning, Remus was not quick on the uptake. “Sorry, help me with what?”
“The whole needing to find a job after graduation thing.” James beamed liked he’d found the solution to everything that had ever been wrong with him. “I could help.” 
Remus sighed. “Did you find a job for me or something?”
“What if,” James paused, hands splayed wide to build suspense, “you didn’t need a job?”
Remus stared at him blankly. “I won’t just take money from you, James.” 
James waved him off. “No, of course not. I mean, if I thought for a second you’d take it, I’d split my Gringotts vault with you right now, but that’s not what I meant.” 
“Okay…” Remus waited, but James just smiled at him. Meanwhile, Sirius, who was sitting back against his headboard with a sketchbook and pencil in his hand, watched with a smile like he’d never been more entertained. “What did you mean then?”
“I mean you should bond with me.” James literally bounced on his toes as he said it. “Bond with me, and I can take care of you. Then it won’t matter if you have a job.” 
“James.” Remus rubbed his temples with his fingers. “I can’t bond with you.” 
Sirius snorted. “I told you he wouldn’t go for it.”
Unsurprisingly, Remus doesn't go for it. He also can't stop thinking about James, and this is the story of them falling together. (Spoilers: they live happily ever after.)
It's something I started just because it was stuck in my head, but they're so sweet with each other, and Sirius is a little too invested with them as always, and it's just a lot of fun.
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matchbookarmy · 2 years
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Bring Me His Heart by jellybeanforest
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Steve Rogers, infamous cat burglar, is hired by Tony’s business rival and ex-girlfriend, Sunset Bain, to carry out a little corporate espionage, namely to steal the original arc reactor prototype Stark had surgically removed from his chest.
Steve does steal his heart, but perhaps not in the way his employer had envisioned.
Or:
Tony interrupts Steve mid-heist in his penthouse and assumes he is the escort he hired for the night; Steve doesn’t correct him.
Why I'm Reccing: This is the first AU I'm reccing and it's a good one. Tony is still Tony as we know him, for the most part, if Tony hadn't become Iron Man after Afghanistan. Steve is a completely non-powered AU version of himself here, but his characterization still stays really true to the Steve we all know and love.
There's a really great relationship between Steve and Natasha here, that I am all for. It's obviously inspired by CA:TWS, so it feels very much like them, and I absolutely adore it.
Tony is... well, Tony. It's a great characterization of Tony that is, maybe a couple of shades lighter than Iron Man 2 Tony. So, you know, he's sad in this, and lonely, and looking for comfort, despite maintaining the playboy persona of Tony in public.
And you can clearly see how Steve would fall for Tony here, and how Tony would fall for him in return. That is, it's a very believable transition from two people who are complete strangers at the beginning of the night, and almost adversaries, to two people who have really come to care for one another at the end of the night. And that's not an easy feat to achieve.
There's an excellent scene where Steve and Tony are talking about two different things (but also the same thing, kinda) and it works really well.
JARVIS is also written really well here. I love JARVIS and this is such a great depiction of him.
And there's also a hilarious follow-up in the end of work author's note that is the perfect cap to what is a truly great fic.
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anticomedygarden · 1 year
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i know what i'm needing, and i don't want to waste more time
-
title from billy joel's 'new york state of mind'
slight nsfw, barely passing a teen rating honestly
-
Harry’s head whipped around when a flash of golden movement caught his eye, then sighed when he realized it was just another Gryffindor holding up a sign and not, in fact, the snitch, which had been noticeably absent ever since Madam Hooch had called the start of the game three hours earlier. 
Yes. Three hours. With no snitch. It was really starting to get suspicious.
“Potter!” 
Harry turned toward the sound of his name, ready to tell whichever one of his teammates who was about to whine that he hadn’t ended the game, that he hadn’t seen the damn thing yet but instead found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy. 
“What do you want, Malfoy?” 
Draco sneered but answered. “Have you seen the snitch yet?” 
Harry shook his head. “I’m starting to think Hooch forgot to release it.”
“But we all watched her,” Malfoy said. He scratched his neck. “I’m starving.”
“Oi! Potter! Stop fraternizing with the enemy!” Angelina yelled as she raced by them, quaffle in her hand. “And catch the damn snitch while we’re ahead!”
Harry laughed. “You know what? I could use a break.”
-
That was how the two of them found themselves on the roof of one of the spectator’s stands, brooms set aside and a plate of sandwiches between them. 
“This is nice,” Harry said around a mouthful of bread. 
Draco answered with a glare. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you heathen.”
Harry ignored him and continued to look out across the pitch only to see a quick flash of gold-white flitzing around near the Gryffindor goalposts. He pointed. “Hey, there it is, finally.”
“Nice of it to show up,” Draco responded, though Harry would swear he heard a twinge of disappointment in his voice. 
He took another bite of his sandwich. “It can wait.” 
-
It happened again at the next Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match. They watched Hooch release the quaffle, bludgers, and the snitch, and then didn’t see the little gold ball again for another four hours. This time, they had apples and grapes in the same spot above the seats, and Draco caught the little gold ball after a grueling battle between the scarlet and green seekers. 
Then it happened again. Four hours of no snitch until Harry spotted it by the Slytherin goalposts, but only after he and Draco had a delightful little lunch in what he had come to think of as their spot. 
Then it happened between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Draco was waiting at their spot with food. 
Then Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. Fred and George had declared they would bring their own food to the next game. Ron said he would take Felix Felicis for real if it meant a less than four hour match. 
Then Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff again. Angelina was beside herself. 
Every time, Draco was waiting at their spot with food. What the fuck. 
The next match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin again, was the last straw. They waited for the snitch for six hours before Harry finally snapped. 
“All right, where is it? I know it’s you that’s doing this,” he said, getting up off of the rough blue shingles and brushing off his red robes. 
Malfoy, the bastard, just smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Malfoy, it’s not funny anymore. I’m hot and tired.” He sounded whiny even to his own ears, but seriously. Six hours. In May. He was done. 
“Oh, you’re hot, are you?” Draco said, biting his lip. There was a suspicious gleam in his grey eyes. 
“Are you flirting? Do we do that now?” Harry asked, disbelieving. 
“Do you want to do that now?” 
A shout stopped him from answering, thank god. “Potter!” came Angelina’s voice from somewhere up above. “Catch the fucking snitch!”
Harry turned back to Draco, but he was already muttering some spell and jumping on his broom, rushing for a tiny flash of gold all the way across the pitch near the professors’ stand. Harry grabbed his broom and raced after him. 
He was too late. Within seconds, Malfoy had the snitch clutched in his long, graceful fingers up above his head, and the crowd, threadbare from heat and restlessness, gave an unenthusiastic cry, sluggishly moving toward the steps back down to the grounds. 
There was no immediate announcement of the winning team as Lee Jordan had left ages ago, but before long McGonagall was saying, “Congratulations to the Slytherin team for a 450-230 win. There is cold water in the Great Hall, and Madam Pomfrey is ready in the infirmary for anyone suffering from heat exhaustion.”
Harry started to turn his broom down to the ground to meet the rest of his team, but a hand-Draco’s hand-on his broom stopped him. 
He met the other boy’s grey eyes. “Meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight.”
-
Who was he to deny a spoiled pureblood Slytherin that had never shown him anything but malice? He went to the fucking Room of Requirement at midnight. 
Thank god the whole dorm was passed out cold after that quidditch match, but Harry was far too wired. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Draco wanted with him. Maybe to threaten him not to tell anyone about the whole snitch thing, though what could Harry say, anyway? “I think Malfoy, the boy who hates me, has been bewitching the famously unbewitchable flying object so he can spend time with me.” 
Yeah, no. It had to be something else. 
Eventually, he made it to the Room of Requirement and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak to see that he was standing in the middle of what seemed to be a library with stacks upon stacks of books. “Malfoy?” he said tentatively. 
At first, there wasn’t an answer, and Harry feared that Malfoy had lured him there to kill him, or worse, that he had been stood up. Then, from the back of the room: “Potter.”
Harry started walking toward Draco’s voice, dodging bookcases until he came upon a little study area, complete with two tall chairs standing around an equally tall table laden with food. 
“What the hell is this?” Harry said, perhaps a bit too hotly. 
Malfoy didn’t even blink. “I think we both know what it is.” 
He really, really didn’t. 
Malfoy sighed. “C’mon, Potter, don’t make me say it.”
Harry just looked at him, barely comprehending what this apparently was. 
Draco groaned. “Merlin, Potter, I’m in love with you! I hate it, but I am. And you are, too.”
“You can’t just announce that and expect it to be true,” Harry said immediately. Nevertheless, his frozen brain was starting to work again, and he couldn’t deny the ache in his chest or the heat in his gut. 
He stepped forward. 
So did Draco. 
Then they both surged forward at the same time, crashing together in a messy embrace. Draco’s arm ended up hooked over Harry’s shoulder, and their lips nearly missed, but somehow, it was amazing. Magnificent. It tasted like fried chicken. 
“Did you start eating the food before I got here?” Harry said incredulously. 
Draco sucked in a hot breath against Harry’s neck. “You were late, Potter. What did you expect?”
He licked a crumb off of Draco’s bottom lip. “Impatient-” He kissed the bump in Dracos’ nose. “Spoiled-” He pulled Draco closer to whisper in his ear. “Brat.” He felt Draco’s knees knock into his own, and the ash-blond whimpered into Harry’s mouth. “I can’t believe you bewitched the snitch to spend time with me. You could have just asked.” 
If Draco had planned on responding, it was lost to the sound he made when Harry slid a hand up his shirt. 
They didn’t talk much after that. 
-
“Here we are back for another match between the lions and snakes, and I think we’re all just hoping this game ends before the sun ends it for us. Although, I have it on good authority that the seekers are fucking now-sorry, Professor!-anyways, Potter and Malfoy are together,-is that better, Professor? Yep, they’re dating, so rest assured, we should be done pretty quick, I’d say.”
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dragonsorceress22 · 2 years
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Illustrated 6k kaishin get-together fic
Art by @airu27
Rated T
Temporary character death
Kaito and Shinichi whump
“KID?!” Conan could barely hear his own shout in the aftermath of that horrible sound. The gunshot. He tore his eyes from the spot where KID had dropped, out of sight now from where Conan was crouched farther from the edge, and looked to the tunnels. Two men in black – two more Organization agents – were stepping out onto the platform. One held a gun. The other held Conan’s gaze.
“Hand that over, little boy,” he said. “That doesn’t belong to you.”
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stronglyobsessed · 2 years
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Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Kingsman (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Merlin/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Characters: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Harry Hart | Galahad, Roxy Morton | Lancelot, Original Kingsman Character(s), Merlin (Kingsman), Daisy (Kingsman), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Reincarnation, Eggsy Unwin as Arthur, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Relationships, Estrangement, Falling In Love, Missions Gone Wrong, Angst with a Happy Ending, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Everyone Lives - Sort Of, Eggsy Unwin Needs a Hug, Everyone Sorta Needs a Hug, Fix-It of Sorts
Summary:
They say life is full of second chances. Eggsy should know, he was given one when Harry proposed him during the candidate trials. But how many second chances does one get in a lifetime?
Decades after Poppy Adams and the loss of a very special person, Eggsy is proposed as Arthur by his predecessor, Harry. While the crown may be heavy on the head, it’s his only shot at living a relatively normal life, and repairing his estranged relationship with his teenage son, Lee. He expects it to be as rocky as it sounds, while also juggling his new title and a candidate trial to fill his retired seat as Galahad.
What he doesn’t expect is one of the candidates proposed to have the face of the man he loved. One who died years ago. The face of the late Merlin, only 25 years younger.
One could imagine the shock and devastation Eggsy felt, even more so once the young man’s memories surface and Eggsy has to come to terms with more than just second chances.
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otaku-girl-ao3 · 12 days
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“Arthur. What on earth are you thinking?” Felix hissed, pulling him to one side before he could follow Wonka out into the cool night air.
“Quiet now, Felix. It really is none of your business.” Arthur sent Felix a pointed look, eyebrows raised. Wisely, Felix removed his arm, taking a step back.
“It most certainly is my — our — business.” Felix said, pointing between himself and Gerald. “And I, for one, would like to know what the bloody hell you think you are playing at. We have the money. The boat is ready and waiting. The Chief and the Captain are at the docks. What kind of games are you playing here? What is the end game, as it were?”
Arthur shook his head. “There are no games, Felix. I am merely taking a dejected young man out for a little nightcap. Whatever is the problem with that?”
“Oh! He’s trying to sleep with him, Felix.” Two sets of eyes swivelled to Gerald as his cheerful exclamation reached them.
“No, Gerald. This is Arthur we are talking about. He does not do…that.” Felix sighed, waving his hand.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, hands clenching tightly enough around his umbrella to hear the solid wood handle creak. “I do not do what, precisely?”
“Date.” Felix said bluntly. “Or take young gentlemen home with you. Though, I suppose taking advantage of a young gentleman in his time of need would be right up your alley.”
“Felix.”
Felix let out a show, nervous laugh. “Right, right. My apologies. Just…are you sure about this, Arthur? Truly? The plan—”
Arthur shook his head. “Tell the Captain and the Chief to stand down for now. I shall let you know when there have been any developments.”
(A World Of) My Own - complete one-shot Wonka 2023 Teen Arthur Slugworth/Willy Wonka
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54184039
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xiaowhore · 3 months
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intoxicating.
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premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
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Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
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“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
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When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
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just-more-pr0mts · 6 months
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Consider an alternate universe (AU) where Danny is dragged along to a gala and introduced as Vlads heir. And instead of the classic meeting bat children, he meets a young Bruce Wayne.
The young Bruce is around 4ish and Danny makes quite the impression on him being the "cool older boy who can make snowflakes". Next thing he knows Danny is coming around the Manor 3 times a week to babysit Brucie.
They grow up together for 4 long years. Danny hanging out with Bruce and Galas and being an older brother figure for him. Until the fateful night of the Wayne family murder. Now there aren't any more galas and Alfred's busy taking care of things around the manor. Soon Bruce and Danny loose all forms of contact.
Skip to years later, when the Justice League summon the ghost king, intending to establish a peace treaty after a harsh scolding from contsintine and dr fate. And when Danny comes through the swirling green portal in full Ghost king regalia and swoops down and Hugs Batman. And when batman doesn't back away and proceeds to hug back.
Chaos, absolute chaos
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fandomaddict505 · 2 months
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Wait theres no fucking way its this early
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It has to be later in the case right???
Oh my god no way
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ITS THE FIRST FUCKING THING HE SAYS TO HIM!?!?!?!? WE DONT EVEN KNOW HIS NAME YET!!!!!!!!
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
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Bit by bit, Eddie finds out that Steve Harrington has many in-jokes going on. He falls in love a little more every time he discovers a new one.
Some are self-explanatory: Robin and Steve quipping obscure ice-cream orders back and forth to refer to annoying customers of yore at Scoops Ahoy. There’s other times where Steve will whisper, “Muppet,” and Robin will crack up, and Eddie will just look on with bemused affection. But he doesn’t need to know the context to get it: to see the way their eyes sparkle with mirth, how they shake with almost silent laughter, falling against each other in a diner booth—like siblings wholly unable to keep a straight face during a family dinner.
In school, Eddie came to know in-jokes as a source of exclusion, all too aware of eye rolls in the cafeteria, snide whispers. Oh, you weren’t there, you wouldn’t get it.
This is something far different. Something precious.
He understands without needing to be told; there are stories he does not know yet, but he can read them in Steve’s voice when he laughs and calls Dustin, “Roast Beef,” when he puts on funny voices, singing along to the radio to make Max laugh, when he echoes random phrases in a conversation and Lucas snorts, and it’s so clear that everything’s come from years of knowledge, years of friendship, this rich tapestry of knowing smiles.
Eddie loves it all. Feels so goddamn lucky that he’s here to witness it, to even be the slightest part of it—wants to reach back in the past, find the Steve who’s just starting the story of a lifetime and say you will love these kids, and I will love you for it, your past, your present, your future. Steve Harrington, it’s a fucking privilege to know you.
The first time Eddie is given an in-joke of his very own, is such a tiny thing: bored out of his mind, making pleasantries with the Wheelers, and Ted makes a passing comment from his armchair about how so-and-so from down the street has bought an RV, but they don’t know a damn thing about how to drive it, let alone park it on their driveway.
Steve smirks behind his hand, catches Eddie’s eye with a fleeting wink.
Oh, Eddie thinks.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know where to start with that, Mr Wheeler,” Steve says, voice level, but Eddie can hear the secret giggle, just for him.
“Well,” Eddie says, “maybe if someone got it started for you.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, grinning. “Maybe.”
He briefly nudges Eddie in the side, a soft brush. Warm skin. Leaning into each other, sharing a secret.
Here’s something no-one else knows. It’s our little joke. Our story. Ours.
And oh, Eddie wants. He wants.
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wolfstarshipping · 9 months
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Terms and Conditions (6852 words) by @mblematic Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
flatmates to lovers, post hogwarts
Summary: These terms and conditions create a contract between you and R.J.L. (the “Agreement”). Please read the Agreement carefully. To confirm your understanding and acceptance of the Agreement, check “Agree” and sign.
Comment: This was such a fluffy and great flatmates to lovers fic (which is one of my favorite wolfstar scenarios anyways), and I'm just absolutely in love with the idea of Remus writing up a contract to manage his flatmate-relationship with Sirius to control his own feelings and the whole thing backfiring, it's so hilarious and great. Also, the way Remus behaved in the motorbike scene was just absolutely perfect and just so Remus, I loved it!
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steviesummer · 10 months
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inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:
Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.
“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.
He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.
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imfinereallyy · 11 months
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“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.
They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.
Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.
“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.
“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“
Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.
“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.
“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.
“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.
“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”
“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”
Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”
Ryan startles backwards, “I—“
“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.
“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”
Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.
Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”
Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.
Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”
Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”
They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.
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bizarrelittlemew · 5 months
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calling it right now that season 3 starts like this
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