Working on my novel and couldn’t figure out why it felt so empty. I didn’t have any filler. It was all 100% plot. The characters only interacted when necessary. I didn’t prattle on about the scenery or how the birds sounded. I had all my fuller stuff that I loved saved in another file because I “didn’t need it”.
Y’all, I knew this existed in TV shows but it didn’t hit me until this that everything is being whittled down. We are so starving for filler that we snap up anything. I unload all mine on Tumblr or keep it in a massive Google Docs. It SUCKS.
Honestly? Death to plot necessity. Revive filler. Revive unnecessary interactions. Revive just vibing with characters sometimes. I don’t want to just consume the plot and I don’t want to just create the plot either.
In the spirit of the holidays, can we get some headcanons/mini fics for the ACOTAR guys during Winter Solstice with their s/o (x reader)? This request was inspired by your cute Archeron Sister Winter quiz.
Thank you! 🫶💕🫶
❄ Acotar Headcanons ❄
Winter Solstice: Acotar Males X Reader
summary: These are my headcanons/mini fics for the ACOTAR boys and how they celebrate solstice with someone special! featuring Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Eris, Tamlin, Lucien
word count: 3,079 total
author's note: Had to save this request for the perfect time of year. Here are some winter solstice moments with each of your favorite males. They range from fluffy, funny, angsty, and wholesome, but all with a happy ending guaranteed!
⊹Masterlist ⊹
Azriel, Yuling the Riverhouse
“What are you doing?”
Azriel didn’t flinch. He knew you were watching him. He knew you had been watching him for quite some time, actually, but he was content to let you puzzle out exactly what it was he was up to.
You failed. It was rather hard to find an answer for why the Shadowsinger of the Night Court was hauling in about 20 feet of hand-woven pine garland into the hall of the Riverhouse.
“Cassian and Feyre decorated this year.”
Ah. That was a sensible answer. You hadn’t yet seen the house as it was for Solstice, and though the dark likely hid some of the chaos, it did not soften every rough edge. Cassian may have been the Lord of bloodshed, but each step of your bare feet across the wood produced a subtle crunch. Pine-shed, naturally.
“Cauldron, did any of the decor actually survive them?”
“No, that's why I’m fixing it.”
“You mean to tell me you brought all of… this?”
All around you were hair strands of silver tinsel, hand blown glass baubles in every shade of frost blue and blustery violet.
If it weren’t so dark, you were sure the most handsome decoration would have been the flush on Azriel’s cheeks.
“I just really like decorating.”
“Fair enough,” you shrugged. “But don't do it alone in the dark. That’s… odd.”
“I also like the dark.”
You huffed, clicking your tongue as you joined his side to help lift the 80 ton garland. “Yes, Az, I know.”
With a bit of help from his shadows, semi-corporeal in a way you didn’t understand but surely appreciated, you had finished nearly everything.
The great walls were strung with ribbon and green fronds, and the monstrously large tree looked heavy with all its cheer. You had left only the star for the very top.
You took the diamond-shaped crystal, carefully handing it to Azriel. “You do the honors, Shadowsinger. The icing on the cake.”
He said nothing. He was suddenly very close to you, much closer than you had perceived. Warm, gentle hands alighted on your waist, and then you were in the air.
“Go ahead,” Azriel whispered, his voice gruffer than before.
Ever so carefully, you placed the star upon the highest bough, praying to the mother that it didn’t tip over and shatter into a million fractals.
Curling tendrils of smoke, his shadows, brushed your arms on the way to steady your hand. They nudged the star into place before shyly retreating back to Azriel’s tense form. He lowered you.
Tamlin sputtered behind you, allowing you to drag him through the halls of his manor, but not without a fair bit of resistance. “You are foolish to stay here. It is snowing in my court. Snowing, when Spring is supposed to be the end of pain and suffering.
“Enough of your brooding, look at this place!” You spun dramatically, the hem of your gown flaring until it mirrored the high dome of the ballroom.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the crumbling porcelain in the ballroom’s mosaic floor, nor the cracking plaster frescoes of delighted nymphs that danced across the walls. “It’s ruined.”
“It's not.” Your answer was firm. The past month had been rough, but you had convinced the High Lord of Spring to begin fixing his castle. Slowly, yes, but progress had been made. He had learned to control his magic, to tame violent vines into impenetrable supports for brick and moulding, to turn his barren winds into lively, floral breezes.
This ballroom, though, scared him. As did the snow. “It’s me,” he said under his breath. “My home, my court, the balance of spring itself.”
“It’s snowing because it’s solstice.”
“It never snows in Spring,” he insisted. The land is weak as long as I am like this.”
“I lived in the human lands for many years.” Your hands cupped his face, brushing back loose tangles of blond hair. “And I can tell you with certainty that nothing stops spring from coming. No snows will suffocate new shoots of grass, no frost could consume every breaking blossom. The cold may delay arrival, but Spring always comes back. As will you.”
Tamlin leaned into the touch, a shallow laugh escaping the tightness in his throat. “I am centuries old and you make me feel like I am the child of us.”
“What’s wrong with feeling like a child again?”
Tamlin grinned at the way your brow quirked, and the glint of amusement in your eyes. “I suppose nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” Your hands guided his own to your hips before trailing up to his shoulders. “A dance?”
“There’s no music…”
“You can figure it out.” A challenge once again, daring him to rise from the sea of self loathing he had poured around himself.
Tamlin turned quiet, eyes closing, and for a moment you thought this a mistake. Too much pressure, far too soon.
But a thin, whispery breeze tickled the back of your neck. It flowed forward, past you, to an old fiddle left leaning against the wall. He held his concentration, that phantom wind circulating until the fiddle began to float. Until the bow righted itself in the air and kissed the strings in one sweet chord.
“Well that’s hardly enough to dance to.”
Tamlin’s eyes opened to bestow a harsh glare, but he complied. The bow tipped back and forth, strumming out the beginning notes of a slow melody.
“Less mournful.”
“You vex me,” he replied. The music changed, sped up a bit, melted from melancholy into joy. Tamlin pulled you closer, allowing himself to perform the beginning steps of a lively waltz.
“Excellent, my Lord.”
Despite himself, he laughed. His chest shook with the sudden sound, and he spun you across the room. “Lord? Lord of what?”
“Of change. Of grit. Of perseverance. Of hope. Shall I continue?”
He went quiet again, but it took only a moment for the resounding music of his fiddle to take over. “No, just dance with me.”
And you did. You danced until the land sewed over with blooms, until the snow settled, until every unearthed mosaic lay back in place.
Another room down, only a few more left to go.
Lucien, Preserving the Tradition
“I didn’t take you to be a home maker.”
“I didn’t either…” Lucien grunted, a slight panic on his face. He was determined to get the souffle right this year. After all, it had been a staple recipe of your family years before you crossed the wall to Prythian. “Eris was always the cook, since Autumn Court males are seen as providers for the family.”
“How refreshing,” you smiled, whipping a bowl of thick cream into an airy butter. “Men are also providers in the human lands, and yet women do all the cooking.”
“Ridiculous,” he said with a sigh, tongue poking out in concentration. “No hunted game is edible without being cooked.”
You laughed. “At least you see sense.”
The smell of food already overwhelmed your home’s cozy kitchen. Every year since Lucien had moved in with you, Solstice time made it feel a little more yours. A little more permanent. You knew Lucien felt that way as well, having spent his life moving court to court without ever truly belonging.
“A-hah! I got it,” Lucien said proudly. “Now into the fire with you, you stubborn vixen.”
“Don’t call the souffle a vixen,” you chide playfully. Lucien bent down, depositing the porcelain dish into its chamber without gloves. He didn’t really need them, you remembered. And with that… “My love would you also torch the creme brulee?”
He grinned. “Of course, I like being useful to you. Now what is that, ten dishes out of…?”
“Twelve. One for each of the Mother’s children.”
“Right. I can fix up the fish,” he was already reaching for the fresh catch he had gotten for you earlier. “And you?”
“I’m already on the rolls, and the butter. Just a few cloves of garlic will finish it off.”
“So then… we can take a break?” He said, hands suddenly winding around your waist as you set aside your knives and cutting board. They didn’t stay on your waist long, slowly migrating up to your breasts and under the apron that blanketed them. “I want to kiss the cook.”
“Dear Gods, Lu.” bu he only laughed, his mouth eagerly finding your neck. “Aren’t Jurian and Vassa on their way?”
“Yes, but they come from across the wall, we still have a good hour. I intent to fill that hour with activities equally important to cooking.”
“Alright, but we better make it quick,” you relented, allowing Lucien to sweep you into a bridal carry.
“Have you ever known me to be quick?”
Rhysand, Lighting the Sky
“You know how I said I was planning something?”
Rhysand had the mischievous look in his eyes, one that promised trouble. Starfall was over, the last shimmering tails fading from the sky above Velaris. And yet, the night didn’t feel over. “I do, is it finished?”
“Mostly, but it’s missing the final touch.”
Rhys took you by the hand, leading you toward his office. You didn’t frequently go in there, not for any particular reason, mostly because it was a serious space. It was where your mate handled the day to day necessary business. Ledgers, research, correspondence. That sort of thing.
“I know you’ve wanted to take on more responsibility with the court. Of course, no pressure is on you to do that sort of thing but… I wanted to make this space more welcoming to you, should you wish to join me.”
Rhys unlocked the door with a touch of a hand, pushing it open to reveal the space.
It was just as big as before, but different. Instead of one solitary desk across from his working mechanical planetarium, there were two desks. Two private booths, and one long bench, made for two.
But that was the more boring update. The fireplace now viewed heavily stuffed couches and chunky hand knit blankets. The mantle boasted trinkets and bobbles that you had collected through the years, all bracketing a large, custom ordered oil portrait of Rhys holding you beneath a sky streaked with comets.
And if that hadn’t been enough to take your breath away, it was the ceiling that did it. Enchanted now, there was no sign of the plaster you knew roofed this room. All you could see was a clear, artificial sky.
Rhys was pressed against your back. He carefully took your hand, guiding it up to stretch toward that cosmos. “They move at your command,” he whispered.
Gently, his hand pushed yours to the side. A million small, crystalline stars rearranged themselves into the cartoony shape of a heart.
“Cheesy,” you whispered back. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of the display.
“I know. I hope you’ll join me here more often. You are what this space truly needs to feel alive.”
Slowly, you traced your finger above your head, guiding more little stars into another heart, linked through the larger one he had made. “I’d be honored.”
Eris, Meeting the Family
You had half the mind to rip Eris a new ass. What was he doing out there in the cold? It was autumn, yes, but snow was no stranger to the season of decay.
He jolted, flinching as you pushed open the door to an awfully snowy balcony. There was already a light dusting of sugar white on the burnished bronze of his overcoat, making him look like a sullen puff pastry. And of course, you would find every excuse to leave early. As soon as he came back inside and apologized for leaving you stranded at the table with his conniving brothers and gossip of a father. “Eris.”
“I know,” he said. “But I don’t want to.”
The expectation was clear enough. It wouldn’t do to leave without farewells. Of course, you had told Eris a thousand times over that meeting his family didn’t matter to you in the first place, if it meant his discomfort. But Eris had been raised courtly, and he knew it was just as much a human custom as it was a fae.
“A little longer,” he said to your silence.
“My chocolate will grow cold,” you coaxed gently.
He turned, then, dragging his gaze from the melancholy fields of snow to meet your eyes. His hands reached out, cupping your own and the drink in his broad warmth. Simmering orange embers, only pleasantly warm, weaved between your fingers and around the glass, reheating your drink. “There, now it’s warm again. You’re warm again.”
No, he was not going back inside. And neither would you, if this was his choice.
You joined him at the railing, tracing carved strips in the dark walnut, the ridges of a long, wyrm-like dragon’s back. He relaxed slightly at your nearness, using a scrap of fire to warm up his own carefully perched drink.
“I’m sorry.”
But your words came at the same time as his. “Jinx,” you added with a small smile. “But you go first.”
Eris sighed, the slight spark that had curved his lips into a smile fading away. “I didn’t think this would be perfect. But I had hoped…”
“They don’t need to like me. It’s nothing personal, and I know that. They dislike what being human means. They dislike our history. It’s nothing personal.”
“Exactly,” he muttered. “They don’t even have the guts to learn you before making such a judgement.”
“Your mother seemed to like me.”
Eris winced. “She was being polite to you, not necessarily… friendly.”
“Well this isn’t exactly the atmosphere most conducive to friendship.”
“Fair enough…”
Eris leaned in closer as you placed a hand on his shoulder. Watching as flakes of snow began their dainty tumbles yet again, misting the glow of distant amber fireplaces and grey chimneys. “I love you. Through it all.”
Like that, his lips were on yours, hands at your waist as he held you against the balcony railing, just in case you swooned. It was a very real concern. Heat filled your body. Both the natural heat that always overtook you at the feel of him, and the heat of his magic chasing away any lingering chill inside you. “Through it all,” he echoed, pausing the kiss to tighten his grip on your waist. “You won’t… judge me if we go home without goodbyes?”
“Hell no,” you said with a grin. “In fact, we should probably leave before Beron finds out I took this.” Eris balked as you pulled out a cylindrical flask from where it was wedged in your boot, dumping some fiery liquor into the rest of your hot chocolate.
His incredulous laugh was all the only trace left of your visit as Eris winnowed you from the Autumn Court and straight back home.
Cassian, Tempering the Blade
“We’re here.”
“And where are we exactly, Cass?” you teased, not truly minding the mystery. Wherever you were, the interior was toasty. A welcome reprieve from the icy chill of Windhaven, which was, as its name suggested, windy.
He strode inside without answering, shaking hands with a burly, winged stranger. They spoke in native tongue, the words sounding like rough metal, hammered to precision.
Fitting, because you became more aware of where you were with every step inside. Beyond your mate and his illyrian companion were several roaring mantles. They blazed in deep brick hearths, the stones glowing with heat as they struggled to contain the enchanted fire. A forge.
“Cassian, why are we here?”
Your mate finally turned to you, the keeper of the forge whistling a gruff tune as he he conveniently disappeared to foster the intimate moment Cassian was shooting for.
“I’ve been wrong. For a long time,” he confessed, taking your hands in his own. “After the war, I wanted you to have nothing to do with this. This life. My real life. No blood on your precious hands.”
Seeing your eyes widen in confusion, he quickly continued, emptying everything before you could cut him off.
“I never took into consideration what you wanted. You don't need to be helpless… and gifting you protection of your very own? It doesn’t mean you need to be a warrior either. It means you can choose your battles. It means comfort that you will win those battles.
Cassian laughed suddenly, taking in the almost comical sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Within each of the enchanted fires, glittering swaths of metal took shape.
“For me?”
Cassian nodded his confirmation. “The choice is yours.”
Instantly you were at the edge of each mantle, peering into the flames like a child gone yule window shopping. Cassian winced at your proximity to the searing heat, but it was clear he had been practicing control over his protective mate instinct.
Past the first and onto the second, trading a simple broadsword for a needle thin rapier, its handle shaped like coiling vines. Too ornamental, onto the next. The third too thick and the fourth too thin. But the fifth…
This one was perfect. It was simple, but not lacking. A sharply filed blade about the width of your own arm, its pommel embedded with a ruby. It shone as bright as the siphons on your lover’s armor, and you had to have it.
As if the sword itself was answering your call, the magic fire surrounding its keep banked to nothing but a fragrant smoke, allowing you to retrieve the contents. The sword was just slightly too warm, but you didn’t care. It was of excellent balance and craft. And now it was yours.
“What is its name?”
Cassian laughed at the reverence in your voice. “The blacksmith calls it ‘Lady,’ but you may call it whatever you wish.”
Pride colored Cassian’s voice as he waited for your answer.
“I like it. A fitting pair to the Lord of Bloodshed. Lady it is.”
“Alright then,” Cassian said, that terrible, no good smirk crossing his face as always. “I expect to see you and Lady out in the ring tomorrow, no later than seven.”
Your face fell into a pout. “But tomorrow is Solstice!”
Warnings: fluff, established relationship, childhood friends to lovers, secret relationship, soft Katsuki Bakugo, nosy bakusquad, affection, sneaking around.
Word count: 1.9k
Author note: my first fanfic, shower some love and stay tuned for more <3
─•──── ᯓ★ ─•──── ᯓ★ ─•──── ᯓ★ ─•──── ᯓ★
You and Katsuki were childhood friends. Bought together by Izuku, accidentally. And as it happened, you both grew closer, practically cutting Izuku out of picture. And here you are, best friend- more than friends? Or at least that's what your friends thought.
This particular morning, Katsuki woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And was snappy, more than usual. You were preparing coffee for yourself and Jirou, and finally had snapped out of your sleepy haze. Sliding in beside Kats, you noticed his demeanor.
“Snappy much?" You asked. And he replied with surprising calmness, “Maybe."
You just shook your head, and patted his arm in a not-so-just-friends way. That didn't go unnoticed by Kats, but did by your group, The Bakusquad.
By 2nd period Katsuki was not yelling at every second person he was seeing, which surprised the squad and even raised some suspicions. And then he says to Kirishima, “I'll be back in a minute, you head ahead." And without letting Kiri reply, he slips away and walks over to their secret spot- the terrace of dorms.
After waiting for a solid ten minutes- of course he reached early, he's whipped - you emerged, being careful to not slam shut the door. And he says in a soft voice, "Finally.” Almost as if he has been waiting months rather than minutes and pulls you in a crushing hug.
After being satisfied from his clinging, he let go and looked at you softly- close to something like puppy eyes - expectantly. You being you, complied and gave him a soft peck. And then he broke the bubble, “fourth period too?"
It sounded almost like a plea but you didn't gloat and just agreed. Due to sneaking kisses every hour, his mood shifted back to normal and by night Denki had won yet another bet from Kirishima over ‘how long will Bakugo sulk.’
Ofcourse, Jirou had noticed. And asked later, “where did you go?” You replied vaguely, "to grab my stuff from dorms.” Partially a lie. But she, thankfully, didn't push much.
This sneaking continued around for months- at least that's when their friends figured it out. Until they finally caught them red handed not-so-accidentally at the roof. All because Kirishima let his tongue slip and told others about Katsuki’s peace spot.
Katsuki goes on, sighing,"well no more sneaking fun now.” She nods along, “sneaky people."
Meanwhile, Denki whispers to Jirou, “now you owe me a date. I told you they weren't just friends."
“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy.
Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing.
He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt.
Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?
The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him.
Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times.
“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.
Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”
He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.
“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”
Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”
He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.
Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.
“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling.
“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again.
“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him.
Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.
He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.
Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.
“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!”
It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,
“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes”
Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better”
Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.
“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.
Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,”
“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.
He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.”
Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”
He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.
“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,
“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”
They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.
What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie.
Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.
Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.
Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.
“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.
As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.
Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him.
“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.”
Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.
“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely”
They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.
“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.
“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”
Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”
“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.
“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.
Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.
He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end.
He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after.
“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.
“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.
Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.
“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.
There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.
🚗📱🍔💙
It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.
“Hello?”
“Steve?”
“Eddie, I”
“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”
“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”
have a little sevika smut to make up for my lack of posting :) (and good boy usage again but you really shouldn't be surprised by that at this point 😭)
MINORS, AGELESS BLOGS AND MEN DNI
sevika waking you up with a hand down your pants, tracing slow and gentle circles over your clit. you moan softly, very sleepy but the feeling of sevika's fingers now keeping you from falling back asleep.
you shift so you're laying on your back and bending your knee up to give sevika better access. when you did, you noticed it was still fairly dark in the room, only some moonlight coming in from the window. you guessed it was probably very early in the morning.
you waking up to sevika touching you wasn't an unusual occurrence. well, maybe this early was a little unusual but you didn't question it. you had told her multiple times if she wanted to wake up in this way then she was more than welcome to, whichever hour of the day it was.
her hand find its way into your boxers, running her fingers through your wet slit. you were so sleepy, so relaxed and already so wet that she can slip her finger in with ease before pulling out and adding a second one.
she slowly pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, making you moan quietly.
"such a good boy, already taking my fingers so well." she said into your ear before pecking your cheek. her voice was very raspy, much like how she sounds after she wakes up.
she sped up her pace, now hearing the wet sounds of your cunt as she fucked you. you brought your hand down to rub at your throbbing clit. your other hand grips the bedsheets beside you.
"oh, please don't- fuck,"
"gonna cum on my fingers, baby?"
"yeah, please don't fuckin' stop."
that was the last thing sevika wanted to do. she wanted to make you come. needed to make you come. when you finally tipped over the edge, your legs shook as sevika's fingers still moved inside you, fucking you through your orgasm.
