One Word: Perfection!

So cute 🥹 I want a hug from Steve too 🥹

prompt again for #5! steve gives the best hugs in the group — it's another reason why the kids call him the mom of the team. when you have a hard day you always go straight to steve for comfort. he'll rest his head on yours and hum a little and the two of you won't have to say anything — steve just knows you need some comfort - lav

5. giggly cuddles; 0.6k words

thanks for the prompt my little apple cake ⚘️ steve h x gn!reader.

****

Today has been too much.

You're at the Harringtons for a game night. It had been agreed the kids needed something to take their minds off what happened. Steve had put it upon himself to coordinate such a thing. You know he loves people in his house and the noise and warmth the kids bring.

And while your capacity for people doesn't match Steve's, you still adore all of them to death. And any other day, you'd be smack in the middle of the heated game of Monopoly happening downstairs. You can hear Mike yelling that Dustin should go straight to jail and rolling doubles before you go to jail doesn't protect you from future jail time!

You want to join the action and eat your weight in popcorn but instead you're in the kitchen, slowly sipping your glass of water and sagging against the counter. Your social battery is near drained. Every interaction, every worry, and every responsibility has nestled in your brain and zapped your energy.

You lean over the sink to try to find your breath and keep it.

"Hey."

You feel a warm hand on your spine. Steve sets the popcorn bowl on your other side, rubbing circles into your skin.

"D'you feel sick?"

You shake your head, hoping Steve will understand. You two have been friends for a while. Sometimes he just knows.

"Too much?" he murmurs, quieter this time.

You nod. Steve urges you upright.

"C'mere," he says, taking your hand. "I'll bring down the popcorn and then we can camp out up here."

"The kids—" you start.

"They'll be fine," he soothes. "They're occupied with the game. Nancy and Robin have 'em."

You go to the living room and linger by the couch. Steve is down and back in moments, dusting his hands on his jeans. He smiles at you, only slightly tinged with worry. He's such a mother hen, fretting over how much rest you're getting or checking your anxiety levels.

"Sit down," Steve instructs gently.

You frown. "I don't wanna keep you..."

He shakes his head.

"You're not, promise. C'mon, I got you."

You sit and Steve does the same, positioned against the back of the couch. He pulls you up so you're slotted between his thighs. Steve is warm and smells like caramel corn. He begins to rub at the base of your neck. Your muscles loosen.

"Bad day?" he asks.

"Jus' a lot," you murmur, clinging to his sweatshirt, head on his shoulder.

You feel him nod. You don't have to say much. Steve knows you inside and out.

"Had a guy come in today asking what the best movies for lizards are."

"Lizards?" you hum into his chest. "Like lizard movies?"

"No, like, he has a pet lizard named Wendell and he wanted my personal insight on films lizards would enjoy."

You bite your lip.

"So what did you tell him?"

"Well, first I asked what kind of personality Wendell has. Apparently he's a party boy."

You can't help your giggle at that. Steve joins in, shaking from the memory.

"It was bizarre! I had to get Robin involved. She must've given him a good selection. He seemed pretty happy."

You look up at Steve, curling your arms around his neck. He smiles down at you. Your foreheads bump.

"Thanks for this," you whisper. "You give the best hugs, Steve."

"Of course. Anytime. Y'want anything? You didn't eat much earlier."

"Later?" you plead. "Just wanna stay here with you."

Steve shifts and presses his cheek to yours. He continues to rub your neck.

"Sure, honey. We can stay here as long as you want."

I'm obsessed with protective girlfriend who dates Kirishima. Absolutely the best! She is so badass. I dare you to say a single bad thing about Kirishima! Do it if you want to die.

Loved it! 😍

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐞.𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of broken bones and blood, reader is a badass and acts morally grey, because I got carried away <3

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. a student from another class decided to insult kirishima, unaware of you standing right beside your boyfriend, ready to snap their neck at any given moment.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. listen, i just love that “i’m a literal sunshine and my partner is scary as fuck” trope and kirishima is just a sweetheart… spiky hair, spiky teeth and a heart of gold. i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy this fic! reblogs are appreciated as well 🖤

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.350 words

MASTERLIST

Continuar lendo

Poor Steven 😭

Oh, reader caring for him melts my heart and Marc content and calm 😭🥰

Neighbors and Nightmares

Steven Grant x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration!)

Warnings: fluff, neighbor!reader, mention of nightmares, hurt/comfort, kisses, sweetness, pining, brief appearance by Marc too

Notes: Even though this fic is not explicit, my blog still is so please do not read or interact if you are under 18 thank you. Thanks so much for the request anon, I loved this prompt so much!! And it works so well with Steven cause he deserves the world!! I have an update only blog too to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

A pained scream woke you up from a peaceful dream and immediately you were on high alert. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door as another scream echoed against the wall you shared with your neighbor, Steven Grant. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to the sounds of his agony while he slept, but this time seemed more urgent than before. Quickly, you grabbed your keyring, which included the spare key he gave you, and bolted out the door.

“Steven?!” you pounded at his door first. Dread filled your mind as you heard him yell and thrash around inside, “Steven, I’m coming in!” you called through the door as you slid the key in with shaky hands.

Continuar lendo

😫😭😫😭😫😭😫😭

Everything is so beautiful. It's been awhile since I last read some Moon Boys fic and this one was the perfect one to come back to the habit.

Lovely writing and the plot warmed my heart 🥹❤️

Celebrate (Marc Spector x fem!Reader, Steven Grant x fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So, I have had this done for a while and just never posted, so better late than never, amirite? And besides, we can all always use more Oscar Isaac and the Moon Boys in our lives. Enjoy! :)

Summary: The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

Warning: Fluff (established couple with all the Moon Boys, super sweet affection, kisses, a very important question), angst (negative emotions about birthdays), implied smut

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 3,348

Steven, Marc, and Jake love you. They loves everything about you, from how you talk, to how you have a ‘lucky’ something for every category of item you own, to how big your heart is. But there is one thing about you that particularly irks them.

In the year and a half that you have been together with them, they has yet to find out when your birthday is. For all they knows, they could have missed it twice! Hell, you’ve remembered theirs twice and have done incredibly loving things for both.

They have tried everything—Steven even tried to sneak a peak at your license once, but turned out to be in a different wallet. Steven only knew his lack of knowledge wasn’t by virtue of him not trying extremely hard, because Marc and Jake couldn’t find out either.

Jake enjoyed playing around with the fantasy that you were a secret spy or assassin who stepped away from the action to lead a normal, quiet life. Steven and Marc were ready to quickly dismiss it when they remembered that they served as an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon. In all honesty, there was a chance that Jake could be right. 

“Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, Pharaohs didn’t celebrate birthdays on the actual day?” Steven asks as he hands you a dish from the suds. “They celebrated their coronation day since it was when they were born into the role of ruler.”

“Interesting,” you respond as you use the towel to dry the plate.

“It’s a bit sad, though, innit? That other people didn’t celebrate their birthdays. It wasn’t a common thing.”

“Well, I mean, I guess people make a big deal out of birthdays and place a lot of pressure on them. Maybe the Egyptians had it right.”

“But it’s an important day, you know? Someone fantastic was brought to the world, that’s worth celebratin’.”

You have a feeling you know what he’s getting at. You choose to remain quiet.

“You’re worth celebratin’, (Y/N).”

You feel tears sting at your eyes, and you suck in your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying.

“Why haven’t you told us when your birthday is?” he pleads softly.

You dip your head and shrug. “My birthday . . . I don’t know,” you mutter. “I have a lot of mixed feelings about it, and I don’t know how to say them without sounding whiny.”

Steven tilts your chin up with a sudsy finger so your eyes lock onto his.

“We’re all ears,” he says tenderly.

You let out a sigh, but Steven’s finger refuses to let your gaze leave his.

“No matter how old I got or whatever new friends I made, my friends and colleagues and even my exes always forgot my birthday. I always made it a point to remember theirs, get a gift, a card, whatever, because—it’s the friggin’ day they’re born! And then I always had these small, wistful expectations there’d be something done for me like a surprise, but it was always nothing. Once I got into my college years, I’d have these hopes and expectations of what I’d have done by that birthday, and most of them never came true. My ‘have a first kiss’ goal was deferred for eight years until I was 25.” You close your eyes and give your head a little shake. “I’m just always disappointed by my birthday with other people and myself. Never a real reason to celebrate.”

Steven dries his hands and wipes away yours tears with the pads of his thumb as he pulls you in for a loving hug.

“Will you tell us when your birthday is, love?” Steven whispers into your hair. “Please?”

Unable to resist his tender embrace, you tell him the date, and he pulls back to scan your face. “That’s Thursday,” he states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It is.”

You don’t expect him to cradle your face in his hands while he kisses you deeply. “Boy, do we have some idea’s stewin’ in our brain,” he beams as he gives you another kiss. “And you know what? Since I missed it last year, you’re gonna have a half-birthday celebration that is gonna knock your knickers right off of you.”

“My knickers?” you laugh, your hurt feelings quickly leaving your body.

Steven whistles and moves his hand like a plane to emphasize the absolute absence of panties you’ll have before he hops up and rubs his hands together in excitement. 

“Oh,” he says as he holds up a finger. “This is why we couldn’t figure out your birthday, right? You’re not secretly a spy or assassin?”

You laugh at the implication, the sadness rolling off of your body. “Jake’s idea?”

Steven nods. 

“Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. And then there’s the issue of getting rid of the body, and we’re on the fifth floor—.”

“See, I know you’re jokin’, but part of me is actually a little spooked right now,” Steven says.

“No, hon. I’m not a spy,” you giggle, moving to kiss his cheek and push his curly hair back. “Sorry to disappoint Jake.”

Steven breathes a sigh of relief and dips his head as you hold onto him. "Oh, thank the gods!"

You’re vaguely aware of the shifting on your mattress as you continue to enjoy a cozy slumber under the comforter with your head on the pillows. After a bit, you feel another shift on the mattress along with the warmth of another body whose smell you know all too well. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” Steven whispers with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You let out a tired moan as you roll into Steven’s body, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face into his chest as you try to pull yourself back into a deep sleep. 

“Come now, I’ve made you your favorite. And I have a nice big mugga mornin’ Joe with your name on it,” he encourages.

You unbury your head slightly, looking up at him with still heavy eyes. He smiles as he looks down at you, kissing your forehead.

“I knew if the kisses didn’t do it, the coffee would,” he chuckles.

As you sit up in bed, Steven twists his torso and places a breakfast tray on your lap, presenting you with waffles, fresh cut fruit, and veggie sausage.

“Thank you, hon,” you tell him, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Anythin’ for the birthday girl,” he hums, placing a kiss on your neck that sends goosebumps throughout your body. “I still wish you could’ve taken the day off.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have these big meetings, I’d probably just stay in bed with you three.”

“Don’t give Jake any ideas—he’d find a way to make those meetings cancelled,” Steven chuckles, stealing a strawberry for himself. You know there’s nothing particularly aphrodisic or phallic about a strawberry, but watching Steven’s lips move around the red fruit and how his tongue licks away the juice sends your head spinning. Steven catches you looking at him and smirks. “Yes, love?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blush as you move to take a bite of the waffles in front of you.

“Mm, likely story,” he hums as he licks his lips once more, bringing his lips to your pulse point for a chaste kiss.

“I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to finish these, hon,” you chuckle as you take a closer look at the stack. “You made eight?”

“I’ve seen you devour a stack of waffles with no issue before.”

“Yeah, on a weekend where I don’t have to go do a full day of work later.”

“Then lucky for you, I am here to help,” he smiles, stealing your fork to snatch a bite of waffles for himself. “Bloody hell, I’m a good cook.”

We continue to sit in bed and eat the fluffy breakfast food until you have to get ready for work. As you fix your hair in the bathroom, Steven takes care of the dishes; he finishes drying them as you move from the bathroom to put on your clothes. As you slide on your sweater, Steven shuffles into the bedroom.

“Let me walk you to work today?” he whispers as he lifts out the hair tucked into the collar of your sweater. 

“I want to say yes, but then I wouldn’t want to go in or have you leave,” you respond just as quietly. “Especially after a morning like this one. It’d be the bed predicament on the sidewalk.”

Steven brings his lips to yours slowly as you wrap your arms around his waist. The kiss is tender and lazy, much like how you wish you could spend the day with one another. Steven lets out a defeated sigh as his lips part from yours, resting his forehead against yours.

“Text me when you get there?” he asks as his fingers play with your hair.

“Of course,” you tell him. "Love you."

Steven hands you your purse, letting you adjust it on your shoulder before he places more quick kisses on your lips, murmuring a "Love you more," as you attempt to make it out the door.

“What?” you chuckle as you put your purse on the table by the door. Jake is leaning on the kitchen table like a puppy that needs to be let out.

“I can’t wait for my girlfriend to do part two of her birthday?” Jake smirks as he suavely moves over from the wooden surface and meets you at the door, his hands on your waist as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips.

“And what would part two be, exactly?” you smile as you bite your lip, keeping them just out of reach of his so you don’t spend the rest of the night making out in the kitchen—although, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“I can’t give away all of the details, mi corazón. Now, go to the bedroom, put on what’s laid out, and then we’ll go to part two.”

You smirk at him and scrunch your eyebrows playfully as you try to figure out what he has planned. You do as he asks, nonetheless. Lying on the bed, you see a beautiful sky blue satin dress with an asymmetrical hemline and silver strappy heels. You slide on the dress and it fits like a glove—so much like a glove, you can see the line of your underwear underneath the fabric. Lightly chuckling to myself, you slide off your panties and take off your bra. Usually, you’d be opposed to going full commando, but when you see yourself in the mirror, everything looks better—the dress was made to be worn on your body without undergarments. You slide on the heels to finish off the look and quickly comb your hair to revitalize it from the day. When you meet Jake back in the living room, he licks his lips and smirks as he looks at you, giving you bedroom eyes as you move closer to him.

“Now will you tell me what we’re doing?” you coo as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“No,” he smiles as he pulls you in for a searing kiss, squeezing your ass for scientific reasons, you’re sure.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath this, are you?” he breathes against your lips.

“Not a stitch,” you hum as you move his hands off your rear, taking a step back and opening the door with your things in hand. “Lead the way, Lockley.”

He gives you a bedroom smirk and mutters a string of Spanish curses and erotic notions under his breath—something about not realizing how sexy you’d look and what he’d rather be doing to you.

“Don’t worry, babe, I think all of you boys will be able to do those kinds of things later,” you assure him as you pull him down by his tie for a kiss. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not when vice looks as good as you in satin.”

Jake captures your lips in a passionate and lusty kiss that still maintains an air of chastity to it—his mind on the mission of the surprise, but his heart veering towards your shared bed.

“Come on, cariño,” he rasps as he takes your hand and leads you out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“I don’t even get a hint?” you try again as you walk along the sidewalk.

“Tell me what you think we’re doing.”

“Really? Twenty questions on my birthday?”

“Play along,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically as you lace your fingers with his. “It’s definitely somewhere fancy?”

“Is it, though?”

“I’m dressed to the nines. I don’t see how it can’t be somewhere fancy.”

“Or I wanted to show you off.”

“Okay,” you say, processing Jake’s cheeky remark, thinking of all the possibilities. “Well, dinner would be too obvious, so it clearly can’t be that.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “Come on, cariño, I thought you knew me better than this.”

“Ouch, gut punch!” you say, poking at it side. “I’m still thinking. You are an expert at being sneaky, I’m trying to process my options.”

“Well, you should come up with one soon. We’re almost there.”

Knowing the area, you scan through all the storefronts you can bring to your mind, when something clicks with your ensemble.

“Jake Lockley, are you taking me dancing?” you hum as you look over to him, his eyes sparkling in the dim London light.

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” he chuckles as he guides you to the left into a little courtyard that is all done up where other couples are waiting to start the lessons. “We’re gonna put those hips of yours to a different kind of work. Just for a short while, at least.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything fun or culinary up my sleeves,” Marc says as the two of you walk hand in and through the quiet park, the path lit by beautiful old street lamps.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” you tell him. “I know how much effort you all put into today. It’s nice to wrap it all up with dinner and a little stroll.”

A gentle breeze begins to pick up, and Marc immediately shrugs off his bomber jacket to place on your shoulders. You want to protest, but you love having things that he wears on your body—the warmth form his frame, the smell of his skin and cologne, the silent gesture of love.

“Thanks, baby,” you tell him softly as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you have a good day today?” he asks, matching your tone. “I know you mentioned your meetings—.”

“Yeah, the meetings from hell,” you sigh as you roll your neck, the mere thought of them bringing tension to your body. “Not only could they all have been emails, but they were ridiculously long and were so unproductive that we knew less by the end than we did at the start. Debbie led both.”

“Oh no, not Debbie.”

“Mmhm. Don’t get me started with that one.” You let out a long sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “But it’s all worth it, because I get to come home to an amazing system of men who love me.”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. “We love you, too, baby.”

“How about we go home and take a bath? Wind down from the day. Get naked and wet together.”

“Mm, two of my favorite adjectives.”

“Maybe we can add some other adjectives you like to that mix,” you chuckle, lightly checking his hip with yours.

Taking a turn off the path of the park, you hop on the sidewalk and make the short walk back to the flat, snuggling close in the old elevator as it drags its way up to the top floor. 

“You want me to put on a kettle for tea or coffee or something?” you hum as you unlock the door, tossing your keys into the dish as you make your way in. “Or are we going to save all the warm water for—what are you doing?”

In your living room, Marc is perched down on one knee, a little open box in his hands as he looks up at me with his rich brown eyes.

“We were actually gonna do this next week,” Marc starts, his voice soft, the edges brimming with emotion. “But we thought this might be a really great way to end your birthday.”

“Baby . . .”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I need to begin to tell you how much we all love you. If I did, we’d be here for a hell of a long time, I’d loose feeling in my legs from the knee down, and you’d offer to help me walk over to the bed, just like how you are always there to help me and Steven and Jake with whatever comes up. You see us as whole people. You make us feel whole. You have the biggest, most caring heart that a person can have, and you love so selflessly . . .” Marc sniffles and furrows his brows as he tries to keep his cool. You take a few steps toward him, kneeling down and wiping his tears away with your thumbs. 

“Marc,” you say softly, his name on your tongue dripping with emotions.

“We can’t imagine our lives without you in it, and we never want to,” Marc continues. “Will you marry us?”

“Of course,” you practically sob, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. He holds you back just as firm, neither of you saying a word. Marc is the one who eventually breaks the embrace, moving to take out the ring out of the box to slide it on your finger slowly.

“It’s a pink sapphire, but it looks purple, and you love purple—,” Marc starts.

“—and gold jewelry looks so lovely on your skin, cariño—,” Jake continues.

“—and it’s a vintage settin’ so there’s no ill-environmental effects,” Steven finishes. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“You guys are sure?” you sniffle, your teary eyes frantically scanning their faces. “Are you sure you guys love me? That this is what you want?”

“Mi corazón, where is this coming from?” Jake asks softly, brushing tears off of your cheek. “Of course this is what we want. We’ve never felt this way about anyone before. We only want you, amore.”

“It just doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s very real, love,” Steven says, gentle hands on your shoulders as he leans forward to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And you already said yes—there’s no take-backs.”

You let out a wet laugh as you move back in to kiss Steven—he always knows just what to say to bring a smile to your face.

“Well, I guess if there’s no take backs.”

As Steven leans forward to kiss you again, and you feel distinct shift just before we part, and you’re met once more with Marc.

“Is it still a yes?” he asks carefully.

“Of course it’s still a yes. I’ve got the three best guys in the world—why wouldn’t I want to make it official?”

Marc smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen in your life. He leans forward to kiss you once more, his arms wrapping around you tightly and picks you up, much to your surprise. The two of you continue to kiss as he walks you to the bed and lays you down on the mattress, only briefly parting from you to brush some stray hairs off of your face.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, his forehead resting on yours, allowing you to feel his eyelashes brush your cheeks. 

“I love you all so much,” you whisper. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Marc gingerly kisses the tip of your nose. “Forever and always.”

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Marc Spector/Steven Grant Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @later-gators12​

Omg 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 That's one of the funniest fanfics I have read in some time 😂😂😂😂😂😂

I really like fanfics that are in a "video style" and being with Pedro?? Everything to me

(Not At All) Secretly Into You

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Pedro thinks the best way to be slick about his crush on you is to be 100% unabashed about it. Ha ha! No one will expect that he has feelings for you if he's outright about it!

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: gender neutral reader, Actor/Actress!reader, the use of y/n T_T, dummy!pedro, fluff, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: i cant help myself. i just head empty only pedro look at this gif people. take a good long look at him. what is it about him that has us in such a chokehold? i think this is the tipping point of humanity. what is it about him that has us like this? 😩 HES SO STUPID AND DUMMY HELLO?! he needs to be stopped. he needs to be jailed. or better yet SOMEONE MARRY HIM SO THAT WE INHERETLY GO OH SHIT ITS OVER SOMEONE WON T_T thank you for reading my little rant Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak

Let me set the scene for you It's a cold, rainy day. There's a person all alone in their bedroom. They're bored AF. They look up, 'movies to watch 2023', and finds a film they're interested in. It's staring Pedro Pascal & [Y/N]. It's good. So good. Too good. It becomes their personality. They begin to hyperfixate. They look for other related content. Behind the scenes. Interviews. Interviews. They fall in love with the dynamic of the main characters IRL. They hyperfixate on them. They're not the only one in this boat. They search for other content. They stumble across a fan edits. Fan edits. Their mouth waters at it. They watch it.

Here's how one of them starts:

Hello.

After watching the movie of Pedro Pascal and [Y/N] and going absolutely feral (GO WATCH IT WIMPS) I have taken it upon myself to do a thorough investigation of their relationship (because I am CERTAIN they smashed and BY THE POWER OF ANIME I'm going to make it certain YOU think it's certainly so) so-

Without Further Ado, I present:

They Smashed, And Here's The Evidence.

You and Pedro are doing an interview answering questions while eating snacks from your respective hometowns. This is a snippet from that interview.

Cut scene, the question, which is read by a staff member off camera, is 'what is your favorite thing about the other?'

"You know, what my favorite thing about you is?" Pedro asks, albeit somehow rhetorically, as he chews on something. He was looking at you when he asked this. He watches with crossed arms as you struggle to open the snack packet.

His eyes dart to the small, plastic wrapped cookies as you sigh in defeat and hand it to him. He grins to himself, dramatically rolling his neck before he takes it from you and begins to open make his attempt to open it. Because of your lack of response, he asks as he rips at the package, "do you want to know what my favorite thing about you is?"

"Not really, no," you say, crossing your arms, knitting your brows, shaking your head.

Pedro makes a face looking out to no one in particular. He turns to you, just as he opens the wrapper, "meanie."

You beam, claiming the treat he hands it to you, "thank you."

He watches as you carefully get a cookie for yourself. Pedro looks at the camera, "as of this moment, I rescind any positive feelings I may have ever felt for-GRFF-"

You shove a cookie in his mouth as you excitedly moan and speak half-muffled with a full mouth, "it's still good!"

Pedro chews on the cookie.

"I used to love these when I was like," you raise your hands, "this big."

It takes a few moments for you to merit a response.

"You're literally still that big, what do you mean?" Pedro says.

You give him a second's glance as you clear your mouth, "talk to me like that after you retire your heels to join the 6 feet and above club."

Pedro shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "You're not even getting anywhere near the entr-"

You shove another cookie in his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

"My favorite thing about Pedro is when his mouth is shut."

Pedro's chews viscously, rolling his eyes all over again. He looks into the camera with a wholly exaggerated look. He then scoffs loudly, throwing his head back, crossing his arms all over again, mouth half-full, "you better pray you can keep your mouth shut later tonight."

Cut the cameras.

Did yall hear that?

WELL LET ME MAKE SURE YOU DID

"You better pray you can keep your mouth shut later tonight."

Later Tonight

Later Tonight.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING LATER TONIGHT AND CAN I PLEASE PARTICIPATE?

Now, ok, if you're some weird puritan that got mixed up in this mumbojumbo for lolz and you're thinking, 'oh maybe they're going to play Uno. Uno is pretty intense.'

you're wrong

get the fuck outta here /:

Now.

I raise you some out of context clips that give off domestic energy.

Clip #1: In the subway

Quite literally, it's a video post on your Instagram of you and Pedro riding a slightly packed metro in New York. You're holding your phone closely to you. It's showing both yours and Pedro's double chin. The only reason why you're recording is because he's singing a children's song from Barney, 'And The Green Grass Grows All Around' under his breath. You ardently hold back your laughter as he begins to do the gestures.

>>>COMMENT SCREENSHOT: @pascalispunk: it's a bop, fam. 😔 why'd you have to play me like this @yn_000 replied: literally no one said it wasnt a bop my love @pascalispunk replied: i love it when you call me your love 💗

IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING SALAD.

THE SHEER AUDACITY OF THESE LOVE-DOVEY SEWER RATS. I DEMAND SATISFACTION.

Clip #2: The Breakfast Person

"I'm not really a breakfast person," you casually admit, mid-interview.

Pedro audibly gasps, "you're not a br- Wait, no, suddenly that makes so much sense. You stuff your face so quickly during lunch."

You slap him on the chest, "hey!"

Pedro snorts, "it's okay, baby, I gotchu," he begins to cook on his imaginary pan, "bacon and eggs, pancakes, oatmeal, whatever, I gotchu."

"You make oatmeal in a pan?" you ask, furrowing your brows.

"Only for the people I love," he smiles and leans towards you. He begins to make a weird laughing noise that sounds part motorcycle, part massive idiot who's so damn annoying.

You take a seconds look at him before smacking him on the face.

Cinematic parallels.

Clip #3: Our Fridge

"There," Pedro holds up the portrait of you that he had been completing the entire interview.

You look up from your own paper and break into hysterics. You lean into your knees from where you sat, nearly toppling forward. Pedro chuckles as he reaches out to you to keep you from falling. You lean back in your seat and wheeze, "what IS that?"

"What do you mean," Pedro grins, "don't you recognize yourself?"

You make a face as you catch your breath. You point to the top area of his paper, "is that supposed to be an eye?"

Pedro looks at his creation, "no, that's... that's that-- but this is your eye."

"You mean to tell me you drew me one eye?"

"I took creative liberties."

You chuckle in disbelief, "this man just told me he thinks I look like Mike Wazowski."

"Mike Wazowski wishes he'd look half as good as you, mi amor."

You turn to the camera, "I don't know how I feel about that."

"Which part?"

"Every part!"

"Well," he rips the page off the sketchpad, "better put this on our fridge."

"We are not putting this on our fridge."

"Why not?" he whines.

"Well besides the fact it's ugly-"

"WOW," he trails off loudly, "just because it doesn't meet twisted societal beauty standards doesn't mean it's ugly."

You simply shake your head, "that is not going anywhere near our fridge."

YOU TELL EM PEDRO.

PEDRO SAID BOO YOUR PETTY SOCIETAL BEAUTY STANDARDS 😩😩😩

Also, they really said

OUR FRIDGE

And I think that's beautiful.

And now quite possibly, the most damning evidence of all.

THIS.

You and Pedro are sat next to each other on a sofa across an interviewer during one of those fan meet interview sort of segments. It's a fan cam, and from the angle in which this particular audience member is sat, its very much visible that Pedro, with his arm slung on the top of the back rest, was drawing circles onto your back. You do not outwardly react to his touch at all. [THIS RAT SO USED TO IT FFS]

You turn to Pedro and ask on through your mic, "what do you think?"

He says 'huh' off mic, then straightens up and brings his mic to his lips, only to give you a confused look.

"What do you think of that scene?" you repeat, brushing his brows with your thumb in affectionate annoyance. [BOO 👎 PDA BOO TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO 🍅🍅🍅🍅]

"Oh," he says, "that scene," he nods his head and widens his eyes at you, hoping you'd help him out.

The crowd laughs. [SIMPS smh]

You only mimic his wide eyes and offer a raised brow.

Pedro and you stare for a moment. Ultimately, he sighs and rubs your nape with his fingers, "fine-" the person recording says 'WTF' "-I have no idea what you're talking about."

There is a chorus of laughs.

"I'm still on the part where you said I was hot when I was covered in blood."

The crowd screams. You roll your eyes. Pedro laughs as he literally grabs your neck and pulls you into him, crushing you against him.

The crowd goes wild. The person who is recording is cursing.

Deep breath. FIRST OF ALL-

The person recording's a real MVP for managing to keep (relatively) calm while witnessing the gall of those two to do that in front of EVERYONE'S SALAD.

Second of all, aint no way, aint NO WAY you let someone like tHIS-

-with his itty bitty tiny waist and manhandle you like THAT in, and I can't stress this enough, FRONT OF EVERYONE'S SALADS, and not do anything further. It's science.

You're honor, the ruling, please.

100% Guilty of ✨Smashing✨

I love a good Paul Lahote's fic 🤩😍

Safe - Paul Lahote

a/n: finished this in a couple hours last night :D

summary: during a winter storm, paul’s car breaks down on the side of the road, at a time in which rampant vampires are running wild

warnings: mentions of anxiety

word count: 1.3k (exactly omg)

It was a stupid idea to begin with. The roads were slowly becoming fully covered with snow, but you two wanted to stay at the lookout for just a little while longer, enjoying the peaceful view and getting away from civilization for a while.

However, it was now dark out, even though it was only six o’clock, and there was no indication of a road in front of you.

“Paul, why don’t we just pull over for now and wait till the morning,” you offer, your anxiety rising as he swerves due to some ice on the road.

“Babe, you really wanna stay in this truck for twelve fucking hours?” He snaps, though not too harsh, it was coming from a place of security and protectiveness.

“I’d rather that than attempt to drive and fall off the fucking road into a ditch,” you reply. Paul glances over at you and right away, he can sense your worry. He sighs softly and carefully maneuvers his beloved truck down the road.

“I’ll try to be as careful as I can, baby, but I want to get back home so you’re not freezing in here.”

“You do realize that you have a super high body temperature that could keep me warm all night?” You joke. Paul laughs along with you and shrugs his shoulders.

“I know, but I don’t-no, no, no no!” He groans as a clicking noise sounds from the truck, the engine giving out just as he pulls onto the side of the ‘road’, thankfully on the side with the wall of rock, so there was no way to skid off the edge and into the forest.

“Fucking shit,” Paul mutters to himself, trying to turn the car on. But it’s no use. The truck was completely broken down, and there was no way to jump start it.

There was most likely no one else out at the moment, so no passing cars could be of help. The pack was away for the night and wouldn’t return until the morning, deterring some new group of vampires that was terrorizing the town.

“Well, good thing we have some leftovers,” you murmur, trying to lighten the mood. Paul glances over at you and smiles, grabbing your hand.

“I’m sorry. We should’ve left earlier,” Paul says, shaking his head and looking down in his lap.

“I also wanted to stay, so it’s just as much my fault as it is yours,” you tell him, hoping it makes him feel better. “But I’m glad that you’re not gonna be driving anymore tonight because it’s really scaring me.”

Paul’s face falls and guilt settles in his chest. He should’ve listened to his instincts when he first felt your nerves arise.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s…” he tapers off, nervous about telling you his true feelings. However, he’s also cut off by you shivering, the cold temperature outside starting to seep inside.

His protectiveness kicks in and he hops into the backseat, motioning for you to join him. But you are unable to gracefully climb into the back, so you get ready to hop out and just get in through the backseat door, but Paul stops you.

“I don’t want you going out there, even if it’s for a split second,” he begs. You stare at him in disbelief.

“I’m not gonna get frostbitten in two seconds.” The look in Paul’s eyes tells you something else is up, so you sit back in your seat, looking at the space that you have to crawl over.

Finally, you manage to stumble back with Paul, falling into his arms, which wrap around you to make sure you didn’t fall off the seat and onto the floor. Your giggles fill the car and Paul grabs a blanket from the trunk while you get comfortable, picking up the picnic basket and finding something to snack on for now.

Paul throws the blanket around your shoulders for now, you curling into his side, finally relaxing into his body.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” you whisper when you finish your snack. Paul chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“For now. Just wait till it drops to ten degrees later in the night.”

“But at least this gives us more time to talk,” you point out.

“Or make out?” Paul offers. You gaze up at him, finding him smirking down at you. A similar smirk tugs at your lips and your hand trails up to his neck to pull him down to you.

Forty-five minutes go by, and you could already tell the temperature was beginning to drop. But with Paul beside you, it wasn’t a big issue. You end up throwing a second cover over his body, just to lock the heat in so that you could feel it more.

He even slipped his shirt off to allow you to feel his burning skin, which you very much enjoyed.

“Does…does you not wanting me to go out there have to do with that group of vampires?” You ask during a lull in the conversation.

You’ve been stuck for about four hours now, and it was coming to the point where you had no idea what to talk about anymore. So, you decide to bring this up.

“Who told you?” Paul mumbles, upset that the pack secret had gotten out. Sitting up from his chest, you grab his hand.

“Emily. It slipped out and I promised I wouldn’t say anything but-”

“Shh,” he coos, placing a finger on your lips to silence you, “it’s okay. I figured one of the other girls would tell you because the guys tell them everything.”

“Then how come you didn’t say anything to me?”

He pauses and carefully thinks over his words, his mouth falling open and closing as he does.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he finally says. “I know you had a close call with Victoria, and I didn’t want to frighten you with another set of vampires. I knew the pack would be able to drive them up north, so there wasn’t any real worry, but of course vampires are unexpected, so who knows what would’ve happened.”

“And you were scared that they could be around us and smell me when I stepped out of the car?” You could feel your anxiety rising once again, and this time, Paul senses it immediately.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, cradling your face in his hands. “Yeah, I was…but again, I didn’t want to scare you. You’re safe with me, like you always are. I promise.” You nod and curl back into his chest, sighing softly.

“Paul?” Your voice rings out in the still air, after a few minutes of nothing.

“Hm?”

“Hold me tighter?” You softly beg. Paul’s heart aches in his chest at the tone of your voice. But, he obeys your wish and tightens his grip, pulling you as close to his body as possible.

“Do you wanna switch positions? Do you want me to spoon you, or is this okay?” He asks. You hum happily, snuggling your face into his neck, a small grin displayed on your lips.

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.” He kisses your head softly and rests his cheek in the spot afterwards.

“Get some rest, alright, baby? I’ll call Emily in the morning for her and Sam to come help once he’s awake.” You nod against his shoulder and shut your eyes, focusing on the heat surrounding you and the feel of his body next to yours.

It always did the trick to get you to sleep, and within minutes, you were out like a light, but Paul stayed awake, keeping a lookout to make sure no one else was around and that you were safe.

Though you knew you were safe with Paul, no matter what.

—

paul lahote taglist: @volturiwolf

I think I'm in love with giggling Bakugou... Loved your writing 😍

✝ 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖨 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖢𝖧𝖱𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖬𝖠𝖲 (𝖨𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴) — 𝖪.𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮𝖴

i was in the mood to write something fitting for this season, even though i’m not really a fan of christmas. thank you @dilfteracy for reading this and supporting me with your amazing commentary.

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, language, mentions of alcohol, underage drinking (listen, it’s legal to drink at the age of 16 in germany)

𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need 

Bakugou scoffs into his cup of hot cocoa. He’s had about three of them now, spiked with a good amount of rum Mina managed to sneak past Aizawa’s observant eyes, but the alcohol has yet to unfold its effect to make the voice of Maria Carey somewhat bearable as she sings the lines to her infamous Christmas song for the fourth, no, fifth time that evening, warbling her high-pitched notes through the sound boxes Momo and Jirou placed in each corner of the common room for the party his class planned. 

To enjoy the last days of school together before everyone leaves to spend the holidays with their families, they had explained after he had nearly blown off the decorations a few days prior, bellowing at them why on earth they’d even want to throw a party as stupid as this one, but now, as he glowers over the rim of his mug, he’s convinced they set it up for the sole purpose of getting on his nerves. 

(and I) don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree

But despite his initial dislike of this party, he has to admit that his classmates did a decent job at capturing the festive spirit for this night — red and green ornament decorate the walls, colorful stockings that carry the names of his friends are filled with sweets and hang upon the fireplace and there’s a distinct smell of vanilla and cinnamon tickling his nose.

I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace

Somewhere near the kitchen, Denki is fighting Sero over a batch of freshly baked cookies Sato brought, though their playful banter seems to be more to the amusement of his classmates who have gathered around them to watch their antics. With their red hats and equally ugly Christmas sweaters, they somehow resemble angry elves in Santa’s toy factory and despite trying to keep a stern face, Bakugou can’t help but crack a smile at his friends.

Yeah, they’re idiots, but at least everyone seems to have a good time.

Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day

Between the cheers of his friends and the unwavering tootling of yet another Christmas carol, he can faintly hear your voice, laughing softly with someone. Instinctively, his eyes scan the crowded room to catch a glimpse of your face, but you’re neither standing among the group of students howling at Dunceface who has proceeded to throw cookies at Sero’s head nor does he find you talking to some of the girls sitting on the sofa and around the small table, happily reaching for the snacks as they chatter away.

“Were you looking for me?” You ask with a raised brow, pushing a plate of baked goods into his hand before you settle for a spot beside him, comfortably leaning against his shoulder. A smile creeps across your lips when he shrugs, suddenly far more interested in the pink marshmallows floating around his hot chocolate, though the treacherous blush that tints his cheeks and reaches the tips of his ears tells you that you caught him red-handed. “Hey, I’m talking to you, idiot. Are you enjoying the party?”

I just want you for my own

“Yeah, ‘s alright,” he mumbles softly. Blonde lashes flutter against his brow bone when he looks back at you, sharp gaze studying the curve of your nose, the space between your eyes and the smoothness of your cheeks, tracing each feature with a hint of secret admiration. A grin flickers across his lips, baring his teeth for just one second before it disappears behind his usual scowl and he slumps against your back, focuses on your body heavy and warm against his own — he likes it, the feeling of your shoulders touching and his fingers faintly grazing your hand as he stands there with you and suddenly Bakugou realizes he likes you. 

More than you could ever know

He actually likes you. 

Right, maybe he’s had too much of that stupid rum Mina mixed into that awfully sweet hot chocolate and a part of him is becoming aware of the blush that creeps up the back of his neck and seems to flush his entire face in embarrassing heat, but before he can stop himself, he’s fucking giggling. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he tries to stifle the sounds behind his raised hand, clasped tightly over his mouth until he can’t take it anymore and drops his head on your shoulder, laughing quietly into your hair.

“What’s going on with you now?” You ask. There’s a teasing lilt to your voice that coaxes another fit of giggles out of him and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “Katsu, c’mon! What’s so funny?”

“I think I like you,” he wheezes, barking out a laugh. His hands find yours, fingers curl tightly around your wrists and then he’s sliding down the wall, pulling you with him to the floor where he gently knocks his head against yours. There’s a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth and you think you should be alarmed, because you’ve never seen him like this before or maybe you should take the empty cup out of his grasp and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get another sip of the spiked cocoa, but this is—

Make my wish come true

"You think?” You repeat quietly, full of hope.

“Yeah,” he mutters after a beat and turns his head. For a moment, neither of you dares to say more before he finally leans in to press his lips against yours in a clumsy kiss that faintly tastes like hot chocolate and rum and your heart punches your ribcage in excitement. “I like you, dumbass.”

All I want for Christmas is you

I just finished The Umbrella Academy and I need someone to talk about with!!

I confess that I cried my eyes out reading this 😭

ALSO STEDDIE ANGST IDEA: the reader is always super supportive of the boys endeavors, she goes to all the corroded coffin shows and steve’s basketball games whatever, but the one time she has something important, they accidentally sleep through it @mysticmunson

elora elora my beloved. this is for u i love u 🤍

— poly relationship, however they have their own bedrooms for this one! for the sake of the story, anyway. fem!reader

the boys' ears perk up at the sound of your bedroom door opening. steve turns away from the stove, eddie stops chewing and lets his spoon fall onto the cereal bowl and beneath the milk that he's too distracted to frown about it. they hear your heavy footsteps, which quite sounds like feet dragging through the floor and more like stomping.

when they see you emerge, it's nothing like they expected.

while your hair is combed and your clothes flattened, your eyes resemble the long hours of weeping; from the puffy eyes, the pinkish scleras, and the loud, long sniffing. steve's excited smile falls, eddie's shoulder slumps. it's sometimes amusing how they mirror each other's expressions.

"hey," steve turns the stove off and drops the spatula on the pan, a hand reaching out towards you with his lips into an upcoming pucker. but you dodge his hand, swerving, maybe even flinching with a stoic look. his heart swells.

eddie tries next. he moves away from the kitchen island, a hand hovering at your back to place itself there but you swerve away to take the decanter off the coffee maker to pour yourself a cup.

his hand falls disappointedly down his side, his lips twitching downward, looking at steve sadly and miserably.

you ignore them both, the octave sound of hot coffee falling onto the porcelain mug filling the silence that coalesces with the tv in the back and the muffled yelling of children outside of steve's house. out the corner of your eyes, you see steve swallow thickly before he takes a plate from the rack and tilts the pan until the eggs fall onto the middle, whereas eddie hesitantly goes back to eating his cereal.

when you place it back, steve sees you debate, whether you go back up with your coffee only, or sit down with a chair between you and eddie. he makes the decision for you, wanting to know what's wrong — he slides you a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast.

you stare at it for a bit, before you finally decided to sit down and look down at your food than at steve, though you speak your gratitude through a small 'thank you,'

they decide to settle in silence, both of them eating breakfast as you slowly sink into your corner, trying your best to eat your food faster so you could just go back into your room. you only wanted silence for now, anyway. you're still upset. too upset.

but eddie, poor boy can never stand the silence, looks at you and clears his throat. "so, what'd you do yesterday, sweets? don't think stevie and i saw you the entire day."

their cluelessness ignites the vexed incendiary inside your chest. your fingers tighten around your fork, shoving an egg inside your mouth, your eye twitching and your eyebrows furrowing together slowly as you reply,

"it was fine," you say curtly, sharply. both of them taken aback by your laconic reply. eddie senses something wrong, his mind racketing through countless memories, while steve tries to stop the bomb from exploding.

"yeah?" steve spreads the butter on his toast, the rough scraping of knife against the toasted bread. "uh, where'd you go?"

he looks at eddie cautiously, who's eyebrows raise like a shrug. you stab the egg this time. "an event."

"an event?"

at this point, you're about to break the plate. you shrug, taking deep breaths. "yes."

steve wipes his fingers on a towel hanging by a knob, taking a bite of his bread. "what event? why didn't you tell us?"

maybe you could have bent the fork in half if you could. your eyebrows furrow, all of you dissolving into nothing but a vestibule of exasperation.

eddie sees it as clear as day; he knew that what steve said had struck up a mark, so he shoots him an wide-eyed 'what the fuck' kind of warning to him, the soggy cereal stopping on the left side of his cheek.

"wow, gee, i wonder why i didn't tell you," you snort, though despite that, it's absolute irritation in your voice. with a hint of sadness, eddie thinks. "maybe because i told you, like, everyday of the fucking week. maybe even the night before that event."

it clicks to steve, only then, that you actually did tell him. and eddie, who's expression has fell similarly to his when it comes to a realization.

"i was thinking maybe you guys would have remembered because you promised." you continue, barely looking at them in the eyes, like they're embedded between the hills of your egg. "but maybe, maybe you guys didn't remember. so i guess it's my fault that i didn't fucking tell you about it,"

"babe, i—" steve looks forlorn. you don't feel guilty about it at all. maybe a little, even though your voice had been soft yet somehow sharp, because you really are upset. you had every right to be.

eddie reaches out to hold your hand but you flinch and he thinks he could have just sobbed in his seat. "sweetheart, we must have slept in. i- we're sorry."

"no, you're not," you can't help but sniff and blink from something that stings your eyes, pushing the plate of eggs away.

"we are, baby, hey–" steve rounds over the counter so that he could kneel in front of you. eddie, who's got no clue how to deal with this situation, decides to kneel beside him. "baby, come on..."

you look away from them with a small whimper, your bottom lip wobbling. "i just thought, maybe, you guys would have done the same thing. come to this event and be there, y'know? and i just- i just kept waiting and waiting–"

"and we're complete idiots," you feel eddie take your hand. you know it's him because you feel the roughness on his ever-loving fingertips that dotes heat over your trembling hand. "we slept in, (y/n)."

steve nods. "we slept in and we're idiots." he rephrases. he doesn't like the way eddie had said their reason, and pinches his thigh. he winces quietly that you miss. "that's– that's not a good reason. in fact, we shouldn't even be reasoning at all,"

then, it comes as a jagged whisper. it's a blunt knife that pierces deadly through a heart. "i just thought that maybe i was as important as you said i am."

the two boys quiet down and stare defeatedly, both rocking back from their weakened knees.

"you are important,"

"steve—"

"punch me in my goddamn head if i ever made you feel like you're not important."

and eddie, ever the jest, knocks his shoulder against steve's. "in fact, do it now. now baby, he's an idiot. he deserves it."

"you're just as much as an idiot as i am,"

"just stop," you dig the heels of your palms on your eyes, your chest heaving.

none of it is helping; normally, a thing like this was something you were just gonna brush off. but they'd promised, and you expected, and then all you felt was disappointment and utter shame. and now you're mad, because you feel that way and because they'd been the one to make you feel that way.

you're mad because they made you wait for nothing.

eddie's whiskey eyes are sorrowful at his mistake. it's a sight that makes you cry abruptly, looking away from them and hiccuping into your damp palms. steve's hands reach up to tug on your wrists and wipe your fat tears with his thumb, eddie standing up to move behind you and to wrap his arms around your neck to keep you close.

"stopping, baby," steve leans up to kiss your forehead. "stopping. we're stopping, honey, i'm so sorry,"

"it won't happen again," eddie's lips move against the hair on your temple as he spoke, his mouth puckering to leave the faintest kiss ever. steve picks up a tissue somewhere above the counter and wipes your tears. "i promise you, princess,"

"we promise," steve wipes gently under your nose. you let him, clasping weakly onto eddie's forearm around you. "we love you, okay? you're important to us,"

you sniffle, the slightest scrunch on your nose. your proclamation is baulky as you say, "i still don't forgive you,"

"you don't have to," eddie swerves in front of you to face you again, placing his hands on your arms and massaging them. "not right now, at least."

the sigh you admit reassures them, even the small smile that paints your tear-stained face. the two boys come up to kiss each cheek, making you giggle; forgiveness is yet to be built, but you know they're willing to work for it.