#tua cast mates fic

[badsext]

Three Spoons: Robert Sheehan x Fem! Reader (guest appearance by Justin Min)

Anon request: Domestic fluff with Robert Sheehan/Fem Reader

Warnings: Just fluff, kissing, flirting…

“Since we’re having Justin over for dinner, will you make the grilled prawns with yellow rice?,” Robbie begged.

“Prawns!,“ you giggled. “I still love it when you use Irish words.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “OK, but you have to clean the shrimp, prawns, whatever.”

“For you, my love, I’d scrape a hundred dirty shrimp taints!,” he said, posing heroically.

“Ugh, gross!”

Rob was happy for you to drive to the store, but he was a very distracting passenger. His long legs made it difficult to get comfortable in the car, so he’d experiment with different positions throughout the drive. He loved bursting out into random topics of conversation whenever something popped into his head and gesticulated wildly with his hands.

When it came to getting recognized in public, Rob was in that sweet spot where he’d get an occasional fan asking for a selfie, but he could usually go about his business in peace. Fortunately, this time you had him all to yourself.

After putting all the dinner stuff in your cart, you huddled close together in the frozen foods section, just staring at the dozens of ice cream varieties. It was summer in L.A., so you were both in tank tops. Neither of you ever thought to bring a sweater and you had fallen into the naughty habit of absentmindedly stuffing a hand into one another’s back pockets, regardless of time and place. In fact, it caused quite a stir when it happened in front of your family at Christmas.

Back at your apartment, you started cooking. “The rice is not that special. The secret ingredient is saffron,” you said, giving him the jar.

Rob tossed it back and forth in his hands. “Hey, careful with that! It’s like forty dollars an ounce.”

“What? Why?” He examined the unassuming spice.

“It’s the stamen of the crocus.”

“Ooh, say that again.”

“Sssssstamen of the ccccccrocuuuuussss.”

Rob lifted you up onto the kitchen counter and kissed you softly, as if commanded by the ‘magic words.’ You played with one of his curls and drummed your heels silently against the cabinets until the timer went off. Dinner was ready and a moment later Justin was ringing the doorbell.

You had recently quit your job to start a new business. Rob was so supportive and encouraging, he became your unofficial spokesman. Justin had clearly been prompted to ask you about it, which was a little awkward at first, but once you got going, your passion was contagious. You caught Rob staring at you, grinning.

The boys shared their funny stories from the set. It was adorable how they chimed in, fact checking eachother’s version of events. It sounded like so much fun. You’d come up to visit once during filming, but they wouldn’t allow you on the set. You waited for him back at the hotel and spent the weekend exploring Toronto together.

“Justin, I’m living for your Instagram,” you said, gesturing excitedly with your fork.

Justin flashed his signature megawatt smile. “I aim to please.”

“Robbie, you should take more photos,“ you encouraged.

"Well, Justin is the documentarian. I am his wild animal subject,” Rob pawed at him like a cat. Justin put on an Australian accent and began narrating his movements in a spontaneous bit of improv.

“Oh my god, stop!” You cackled.

You noticed Justin’s wineglass was empty so you tilted to bottle towards Rob, motioning for him to fill it up. Rob caught the hint and started refilling the glass. “You know I get drunk after two glasses of wine.” Justin warned. “Are you guys trying to get me into your bed?, he joked.

“Not without your consent, you sexy minx.” Rob replied, puckering his lips at Justin.

“Boys, enough flirting! Robbie, go get the dessert,” you laughed.

He returned with the cake in one hand and three spoons in the other. The cake was scrawled with hot pink frosting baring the words 'Happy 2nd Season,’ in honor of the show getting picked up again.

“Where are the plates and the forks, love?,” you asked sweetly.

“I thought it would be more fun to share it this way," he popped his eyebrows mischievously. You just shrugged and smiled.

"Okay, I’m too drunk to argue,” you laughed. “I’ll start at this corner.” The three of you devoured the cake. Rob was right, it was more fun sharing. He was often right about things like that, forever thinking of clever ways to bring people closer. It was one of the many qualities you loved about him.

Soon it was time for Justin to Uber home. He thanked you both for a lovely evening, kissing each of you on the cheek. Then the second the door closed behind him, Rob took off like a shot towards the bedroom down the hall. “Race ya!”

It was impossible to catch up. He flopped down on the bed, disturbing the many pillows of varying levels of softness he insisted on. Not wanting to get up to take his clothes off, Rob slinked out of his pants like a snake shedding its skin. You changed into your favorite old t-shirt of Rob’s, the one that had been washed a zillion times, with the logo of a pub he couldn’t even remember patronizing. Then you climbed into bed with your beautiful six foot Irish dream. Your usual stellar oral hygiene and skincare routines be damned! There you would remain, nestled together until morning.

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