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awkward-sultana · 11 months

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5 Times Joel Engaged in Minor PDA + 1 Time He Engaged in Major PDA

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Implied smut, use of Y/N, medical terminology and mentions of medical conditions (child death/miscarriage, head injuries) and operations (stitches,) injuries, drinking/alcohol, cursing, mentions of death, guns and shootouts, PDA (mostly kissing), panic attacks, unwanted advances from minor male characters.

Summary: Joel Miller has always had a bit of trouble with PDA, but he's learning.

I. You loved Jackson, loved this new normal you had never even considered possible in your 30 years of life. You had only been 10 when the outbreak happened, all scraped knees and tangled hair, giggling over notebooks and glitter pens. Now, after losing your entire family, being expedited through an intensive medical training program, and trekking across the country with a feral 14 year old and a loaded gun of a middle aged man, you felt about 100.

Here, in Jackson, surrounded by laughing children, smiling parents, and a wall that seemed to keep out the rest of the world, you felt like maybe you could discover some semblance of the normal you had before.

Even you, Joel and Ellie had bloomed into the little family you dreamed of having on those warm nights when you couldn't sleep for the sound of death in the distance. It had been rough, the three of you settling into your small home in Jackson, especially between you and Joel. It had all culminated one night in a screaming match in the barn between the two of you when, like you knew he would, he tried to run away, afraid to lose another family. You had told him to leave and never come back, so goddamn angry he would abandon Ellie like that, make her lose another person when you had both promised her you'd give her a good life with two people who loved her. Joel had left, shattering your heart and sending Ellie into a spiral that resulted in quite a few fist fights with older kids. Thankfully, she had had Dina to ground her. You had no one. You didn't let Ellie see your heartbreak after he rejected you, didn't let her take on the weight of someone else's world again. Joel had ended up returning a week later at 3 AM with soft words you didn't know he was capable of, promises to never leave again, and a ring you didn't pry about, not wanting to know where he got it. You had forgiven him almost instantly like the lovesick idiot you were, but it took a few days and a few rancid curses and half hearted shoves from Ellie before he found forgiveness from her.

Now, your normal was beginning to lay a foundation. Ellie was attending school, Joel had found his footing as a handy man and patroller, while you were at the medical clinic, using your medical education from one of the last remaining hospitals in the US and learning from the more experienced doctors already set up in Jackson.

Things were as perfect as they could be. Except for one or two things that irked you a little bit. Most specifically, Joel's complete aversion to PDA. You were young, pretty (of course you were pretty, you looked like your mom and your grandmother), and had a growing appetite for physical affection now that you found a man who spoke to every part of you. Joel, on the other hand, struggled quite a bit with physical affection in public settings. He was affectionate in private and had no problem keeping up with you behind closed doors, but out in public...let's just say, people were honestly shocked when they found out you were a couple, and not just because of the age difference.

While it was something you had long ago made peace with, you still found your mind wandering down other avenues of possibilities, such as now as you finished putting away the last of the files at the clinic. It was Friday afternoon and the clinic was closing early because there were no patients on the schedule and it was the first day of fall, so everyone wanted to get outside while the sun was still up and enjoy the beautiful weather before the winter chill settled in. The other staff had taken off before you, eager to go and be with their families. You were happy to stay behind and close up, as Ellie was staying after school to help out with one of the teachers and Joel was on patrol until late.

"Need any help?"

Cursing hysterically, you whirled around at the sound of a male voice behind you. Greg, one of the farmers stood in the doorway, having the courtesy to look bashful for scaring the hell out of you.

You took a moment to catch your breath, putting a hand to your pounding heart and letting out a startled laugh. "Jesus. Sorry. No, thanks, Greg. I appreciate it but this is all confidential information. I'm actually almost done anyway."

He grinned and you had to admit that he was handsome. "Is anything really confidential in Jackson?"

You laughed again, seeing his point. Nothing was private in such a small town. Sometimes 300 people felt more like 30. "Even so, I know at least four people in these files who would be pissed if anyone besides their doctors saw their medical information."

Greg held up his hands in a well meaning acknowledgment of defeat. "Totally understand. I actually have a question for you."

More than used to having citizens pull you aside and bashfully ask for medical advice, you set down the stack of files in your hands and turned to fully face Greg, your stethoscope swinging on your neck.

"Sure. What the problem?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

You blanched, but recovered quickly. This wasn't the first time a man in Jackson had asked you out since you had arrived in Jackson, and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. Greg was the second this week. Of all the gossip that seemed to travel around Jackson, the fact that you weren't interested in dating didn't seem to be part of it.

You pasted on what you called your 'patient smile.' "I'm flattered, Greg, but I'm not really looking right now."

He chuckled. "I'd be careful with that. Pickins' are pretty slim here. Wouldn't want to find yourself runnin' out of time." You pursed your lips and narrowed your eyes, not impressed by his not so subtle implication that you were already over the hill at 30 years old.

"I'm actually not too worried. Again, I'm flattered, but I'm not interested." When Greg took a step closer, you instinctively backed up further into the room. You didn't know if he was purposefully being intimidating, but you weren't a fan either way. "Any way I can change your mind?" he asked.

"She said she wasn't interested."

You jumped at the deep voice coming from the doorway and Greg turned, neither of you having heard Joel come into the clinic. He stood in the doorway, his rifle slung over his shoulder and his brow furrowed deep. In his heavy boots and heavier coat, he looked even bigger than normal.

"Hey, Joel," Greg chirped, somehow unaware of the menace in the room. "I'm just chatting with y/n here. Thought you were on patrol."

Joel was walking through the room this time, sticking to the perimeter, his eyes not leaving Greg. "Horse started limpin'. Doc Jetson's takin' a look at her." Joel had made it to your side and had angled his body toward you, the front of his coat brushing your shoulder. He looked ready for a fist fight. You were just shocked he was being this obvious about getting close to you in a semi-public place.

"Well," Greg continued, somehow missing the obvious body language of the two people in front of him. "I was hoping to talk y/n into changing her mind." A bright, boyish smile. "Got any tips?"

"Don't think it's going to work out for you this time, bud," Joel responded, no longer looking at him. He was now reaching very deliberately across your chest and pulling the stethoscope from around your neck and tossing it gently on the counter next to you. "You ready?"

You nodded, still baffled at his behavior. His hand on the small of your back sent a thrill up your spine and you allowed him to usher you past Greg, who was staring at the both of you with raised eyebrows.

Outside, the sky was frosted and there was a glorious bite in the air. You had been in the clinic all day and the sharp temperature change made you shudder and wrap your arms around yourself.

Joel looked down at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You bring a coat?"

"No, Bev Lanson's daughter fell out of her bed and needed stitches in her scalp at 5 this morning so I didn't get to grab one."

"And Ellie said she never saw you at the mess hall for lunch."

You grimaced at the chiding, but a glance at Joel showed his mouth was quirked up in amusement and he was shaking his head. "Hold this." You only just caught his rifled as he hauled it over his shoulder and plopped it in your arms to take off his coat.

It was heavy and warm as he settled it around your shoulders. You grinned like an idiot as you held it around your shoulders and leaned into him. While he didn't put his arm around you, he let you lean deep into his side as you walked through the town.

II. You exploded out of the clinic, making three women who were headed to 5 AM morning patrol jump and look at you like startled deer, their rifles clattering together as they stumbled against each other. You ignored them and Dr. Hansen's voice behind you as you stormed down the steps and down the road toward the barn.

Your chest was tightening. Your lungs were constricting. Your heart was a hammer in your chest. You were having a panic attack. The first since you got to Jackson and the first in months. Your last panic attack had been when you though the fireflies were going to tear Ellie's brainstem out. Flora's baby hadn't made it. Only two months left on a seemingly health fetus and she had miscarried. Jackson didn't have the equipment for an operation, so you had done your best to stem the bleeding, then held her as Dr. Hansen finished up. She had been bawling so hysterically you thought she was going to pass out and you were the only person she would let hold her.

It was the first time in Jackson that something had felt so truly hopeless. Was this the future here? Watching people die? You had come to Jackson to escape that and now you wrist deep in the blood.

You sucked in a violent breath as you approached the sheep pen, a new sense of panic settling in when you realized breathing was getting more difficult.

In...Out...In...Out.

You closed your eyes and repeated the mantra in your head as you leaned against the rails of the paddock, gripping the splintered wood in your palm.

"Y/N?"

Starting violently, you whirled around and ran straight into Joel's chest. When he grabbed your arms to steady you, you jerked back, your body defaulting to fight or flight. He held fast, pulling you back into his chest, even as you shoved at him.

"Calm down, honey. Take a breath. Just like you taught me."

You closed your eyes again and took another deep breath, but it only whistled through your lungs in a weak gasp. Gripping the lapels of his thick coat in your hands, you tried again, shutting your eyes tight and bending your head in concentration. Joel took a step forward until the top of your head was pressed to his chest. After a few more deep breaths, he cupped your face in his callused hands and pulled your head up to rest your forehead against his heart. You listened to the strong beat beneath his sternum and the soothing words he murmured into your hair, felt the bite of his zipper against your palms and the scent of hay on his flannel.

After what felt like a lifetime, your breathing returned to normal and your heart resumed it's regular beat.

"There, honey. Good. Good."

Pulling your head from his chest, you opened your eyes and stared up at Joel's bearded face, his eyes creased with worry but strong with resolve. Leaning forward, you buried your nose against the exposed patch of skin beneath his shirt and took a deep inhale. The two of you stood like that in comforting silence until you cleared your throat and pulled lightly at his grip. He let go of your face, but cupped your shoulders and pulled back slightly to look down into your eyes.

"What happened, baby?"

You cleared your throat again. "Nothing. I mean...I'll tell you later. I have to get back before Dr. Hansen finds me and calls me a pussy." A grizzled old army surgeon, he didn't take lightly to what he perceived as weakness.

"I'll walk you back."

That took you a bit by surprise, but you wouldn't say no. One of the first things Joel had ever told you when you met - after nearly blowing your head off - was that he didn't do comforting or coddling. He had gotten better, but he was always visibly uncomfortable.

He didn't press any further as you walked down the road back to the clinic, but he reached his hand out to brush it against yours and eventually tuck it into his own.

You took another deep breath when you got to the porch of the clinic, bracing yourself for Dr. Hansen's inevitable speech.

"You sure you're okay?" Joel asked again.

"Yeah," you answered, not actually lying this time. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks."

Before you took a step forward, he took the back of your neck in a gentle grip and laid a long kiss to your temple.

As you trudged up the stairs, you turned and gave him a sultry look over your shoulder. "You can just talk me through anything, can't you?" You squealed and laughed, jumping through the door as he reached out to pinch your ass.

III. "Hey!

When Joel didn't immediately turn around, you looked around for something to throw at him. Spotting a bucket of freshly picked apples, you picked one up, tested the weight with a little toss, then hurled it at the back of his head.

He turned immediately, looking every bit the grumpy old man as he glared at you and rubbed the back of his head.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I didn't hear you."

"Hence the apple."

Joel rolled his eyes as he picked his way through the sheep he had been corralling into the paddock. Slipping yourself through the gaps in the fence, you leaned back against it and gave him an innocent smile.

Crossing the paddock, he fixed you with an exasperated but amused look. "What do you want?"

"What do you want for dinner tonight?

He snorted. "That's what you threw an apple at my head for?"

You rolled your eyes in response. "Ellie left for that nature trip with her class this morning so we can make whatever we want." For a feral cat of a child, Ellie could be surprisingly picky.

That seemed to peek Joel's interest. "Hmmm. How about steak and potatoes?" You grinned, having started prepping this morning knowing he would choose that. "Perfect."

You stood in companionable as Joel got the sheep settled and fed. You piped up again, "Ellie won't be getting back until Sunday night."

"That's what I heard."

"And neither of us are on shift this weekend."

"Yeah, 'bout time."

"I wonder what in the world we'll do all weekend."

Joel shrugged, your innuendo flying straight over his head. "No clue. Probably catch up on the sleep I haven't gotten for the past 20 years."

You rolled your eyes. "Joel...Joel." His head shot up from the stubborn sheep he was trying to push around with his knees. "What?"

"We're alone for a whole weekend, with no reason to leave the house, for the first time since we got here and all you can think about is sleeping?"

It took him a long moment, but then his mouth turned up into a sly smile and he maneuvered around the sheep to stand in front of you.

"Did you have something else in mind, darlin'?" His broad hands settled on your hips.

You pretended to think. "I'm not sure. Sounds like sex isn't on my husband's mind half as much as mine. Plenty of other single men to choose from--"

You squealed and laughed when Joel plucked you up off the ground and sat you down on the top rung of the fence. You hooked your feet around the bottom rung and clutched his shoulders for balance. He squeezed your hips and gave you a narrow eyed look, oblivious to the stares you had garnered. "Brat. Try it and I'll suddenly remember how to brawl."

"I've seen you brawl at least ten times since I've met you."

"Should've seen me in my twenties."

You squeezed his shoulders, kneading your nails into the thick material of his coat before murmuring quietly, "All I care about is that you know how to brawl with me." Joel groaned and hauled you down for a long, desperate kiss to your mouth. Turning, he tried to adjust himself as discreetly as possible before walking back out into the pen. You remained on the fence for a little while longer, heart glowing every time Joel walked past to give you a peck on the knee and a sultry look that promised many things.

The two of you turned in about three hours early that evening, your carefully prepared steak barely touched.

IV. "Where'd you get that dress, y/n?"

You turned away from the carrots on the counter to Ellie, who was flopping down the hallway of your home with her usual puppy-like grace.

"Oh, Mrs. Sawyer made it for me for delivering her new grandbaby. Do you like it?" It was short and airy, made you feel feminine and beautiful after spending day after day in scrubs. It was unseasonably warm today, probably the last warm day before fall fully settled in. "Yeah, I like it a lot," she answered as she swiped a carrot off the counter.

You gave her a side eyed smirk. "Want me to ask her to make you one?"

Ellie blushed and sputtered. "What? No! No way! I mean...I'm okay. Seriously. Where are you going?"

"Maria, Leslie and Megan invited me to the bar. And no I'm not sneaking you a beer."

Elli glared and grumbled something as she headed to the front door, trying and failing to dodge the hand you reached out to ruffle her hair. As you turned back to your food prep, you heard Ellie say hello to Joel as he walked into the house, heard his answering grunt of greeting. The door closed behind Ellie and you heard Joel stride across the wood floors until he was standing right behind you. You shuddered when he traced his hands lightly up the sides of your thighs, inching the dress up your legs. "I like this dress," he rumbled, laying a long kiss to your hair.

"Yeah, me too. Brenda Sawyer wanted to pay me somehow." He was pressing in tight to you now, cradling your hips back against his, your dress above your waist now. He nuzzled another kiss to you hair. "I'll have to thank her. Where you headed all dressed up?"

Your grip tightened on the hilt of the knife as he slowly kissed down your neck, his hands kneading your hips. "Tipsy Bison with Maria and, um, some other women. Drinks." Joel gave your hips a squeeze one final kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. "I'll go with you." You looked over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He raised an eyebrow right back. "Yes, really. Why is that so shocking?"

You shrugged and went back to chopping carrots. "No, it's just you've never gone with me before. I guess you're usually on patrol." He struggled being idle.

"First time for everything. What time you going?"

"I was thinking about 30 minutes?"

"Plenty of time."

The knife was pushed out of your hand and the carrots swiped to the side. You shrieked and laughed when Joel whirled you around, shoved your dress back up your hips, and plucked you up onto the counter. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as his mouth found yours.

A quick 20 minutes later and narrowly avoiding a second round, you two were walking into Tipsy Bison, which was already in full swing. Joel had walked a little closer to you than normal, his fingertips brushing the hem of your dress as you walked. After a brief brush of his hand on the small of your back, you went your separate ways in the bar, you heading toward a booth with the women who had invited you, and Joel toward his brother and some other men he often found himself paired with on patrol. As much as you would have liked to stick by his side all night, you were happy he was trusting people enough to make friends. Despite the fact that he fucked you hoarse nearly every night, you felt a bit like a proud mom sometimes.

As the night went on, the drinks flowed and the laughter became louder. The warm weather seemed to settle in everyone's bones and everyone was on the small dance floor, from the 70 year old carpenter shuffling with his three toddler granddaughters to the fifteen year old girl shyly asking her classmate to dance. You and your friends had made your way out to the floor as well, your drinks sloshing onto the floor as you laughed and danced like teenagers. When a slow song came on and the lights dimmed, the string lights on the ceiling coming on, you began to make your way back to your booth, but a warm hand on your wrist stopped you. Turning, you found Joel standing behind you. You frowned in confusion. "You okay?"

He frowned right back as he tugged you toward him, pulling your arm around his shoulder and sliding his other hand across your waist. "Does something have to be wrong for me to dance with you?"

Smiling big, you tightened your arms around his shoulders and pressed tight to his front as his callused hands settled on your hips, massaging your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. "Joel Miller knows how to dance?"

He chuckled as you both began to sway to the beat. "I never said that." Grinning back, you massaged the nape of his neck and nuzzled you cheek against his shirt, closing your eyes and listening to the strong pulse of his heart. When the song ended, he wrapped your hand in his and led you back to the bar, shouldering through curious looking patrons. Maybe it was the whisky, but he was handsy for the rest of the night, pulling you between his legs as he sat at the bar talking with some of the other guys from his normal patrol, his arm around your waist as he laughed and sipped his whisky. Around midnight, it was you who tugged on his hand and informed him it was time to go. You only made it around the back of the bar before your dress was around your waist for the second time that night.

V. It had been a long, busy day at the clinic. All the doctors and nurses were called in to treat all sorts of injuries, allergies, bites, coughs, stomach aches, bloody noses, etc. By 6 PM, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, but a pile of charts was waiting for you and you had already been hounded twice about being behind. Scrubbing your hands over your eyes, you reached for the folder at the top of the file.

"Y/n?"

You turned as Maria came into the clinic, red cheeked and huffing like she had run there.

"Yeah, hi, what's wrong?"

"It's Joel. Sally's gun went off close to him, grazed him on the side of the head. He says--"

You were already shoving past her and sprinting down the road, your heart hammering beneath your ribs. You heard Maria call after you then curse, but you didn't stop, dodging people and moving past the guards through the now open gate.

The patrolmen had stopped a few hundred feet from the entrance. A few had dismounted their horses and were gathered around someone with their head down. "Move," you ordered, putting every ounce of hard earned medical authority into your voice. The crowd parted and you saw Joel standing there, his head bent and his gloved hand prodding at a serious laceration at the side of his head. Your heart flew into your throat as you stopped in front of him and pulled his hand away from his head. "Stop doing that," you snapped.

Joel rolled his eyes but did as he was told, letting his arm fall to his side but keeping his head bent so you could take it in your hands and turn it this way and that. You cleared your throat, not fully trusting yourself to speak, but knowing you had to nonetheless. "Decent laceration, nothing serious. Worse than it looks. Few stitches should be fine."

"Can you make it to the clinic, Joel?" Tommy asked, earning an irritated look from his big brother. "Yes, I can make it back to the damn clinic. She didn't blow my head off." Then he turned back to you. "And what are you doing out here without a gun or an escort?"

You gave him a furious glare. "Don't start. C'mon before you faint." With that, you turned on your heel and strode back toward the gates. There was some shuffling and mutters before you heard the group following behind you.

You got back to the clinic a few minutes before them and grabbed the suture kit, laying it all out for when they arrived. Hearing heavy boots come up the stairs and Joel tell Tommy to "get off me", you turned in time to see Joel poke his head in, then quickly duck back out. You came to the door. "What?"

He cleared his throat, looking a little green. "It...It smells. I'm gonna be sick if I have to go in there."

"You're nauseous?"

"Yeah, I guess."

The anxiety flared back up but you slammed it back down. "Then your head wound is worse than I thought. You might have a concussion. Fine, sit down on the bench."

He did as he was told, this time not yelling at Tommy for guiding him with a hand to the elbow. He sat down with a grunt, pulling off his gun and disarming it.

"Ya'll good here?" Tommy asked and you nodded. "Yeah, I'll patch him up and put him to bed."

"I don't need-"

"Be quiet."

Joel scowled at you and then at Tommy, who didn't bother hiding his grin before turning away toward Maria, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

You unloaded your kit in silence, cleaning up the dried blood before running a lidocaine pad over the cut. It really wasn't too bad, but it was over his old scar and would be tricky to suture at the angle you were now at. After a few minutes, you very gently prodded the skin around the cut. "Feel that?"

"No ma'am."

"Good, tilt your head to the side and don't move or I'll sew your ear to your head." You heard him chuckle, but he once again did as he was told. Stepping closer to him, you angled his head to the side. You were so focused you almost didn't notice his hands come up and begin massaging the backs of your legs in slow, sweeping motions from the tops of your thighs to the back of your knees. When he got close enough to your backside to make you shudder, you gave his hair a little tug. "You're distracting me."

Joel only hummed in answer, his eyes closing almost in relaxation, as if you weren't sewing his head shut. His hands settled at the backs of your knees, his forehead resting against your chest as you finished up your work. He didn't let go of you immediately, instead pulling his head up and resting his chin between your breasts, blinking lazily up at you. You let yourself wrap your arms around his neck and stare down at him, the forceps and scissors still in your hands.

"You were shot."

"Yep."

"Don't let it happen again."

His mouth curved in an amused smile and his hands squeezed your knees. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now go to bed."

He seemed to open his mouth to object but you cocked your eyebrow in a withering glare. Sighing, he stood with your help, gave you a chaste peck on the head, and grabbed his rifle before moving off toward your home.

+ I. "Wait, so are you and Joel actually, like, married?"

You blinked at Maria's question. You had never actually never been asked that before, as most people didn't even know you were together. You often wore the ring he gave you, if not on your hand, then on a thin chain around your neck, and you had never bothered getting a ring for Joe, as you wouldn't even know where to get one. You did refer to him as your husband and he told you he thought of you as his wife and referred to you as such whenever it came up.

When you were younger, you had, of course, had the girlhood dreams of a big white wedding and a storybook marriage, but when the virus struck, it all seemed so trivial. Now...you weren't really sure how you felt.

"I mean, I guess not," you finally answered with a shrug. "Never really considered making it official."

"What're you two yappin' about back there?"

Both you and Maria flinched in your saddles when Chet barked back at you, nudging your horses faster to keep up with the rest of the patrol. They had been short a man today after Will sprained his ankle, so you volunteered to step in since the clinic was slow and fully staffed. Joel had groused about it, but you were excited to go beyond the walls for even a few hours. And nothing had happened on patrols in months, so you weren't particularly worried.

"Do you want to make it official?" Maria prodded when the two of you got a little closer to the rest of the group, but still far enough back to have some privacy.

"Again, never really thought about it. We've just been getting settled and making sure Ellie gets settle." Another shrug. "It just hasn't been a priority."

"Do you want it to be a priority?"

You gave her a hard side eye. "What's with the sudden investment in me and Joel's relationship? When we got here you didn't even like-"

"RAIDERS!"

Your stomach dropped, panic barreling up your spine into your heart as chaos ensued. Shots rang out and people shouted as horses screamed and reared up in surprise. You scrambled for the gun at your hip, pulling it out just in time to get a raider in the knee and finish him off with one to the head. More shots sounded, closer this time and there was another cry of pain as eleven more raiders closed in.

Pain burned through your arm and you cried out, dropping your gun, which went off as it hit the ground. Your horse reared up in surprise, sending you out of the saddle and sprawling to the ground. When your back met the grass, the pandemonium faded away, overwhelmed by a deafening ring as your head snapped back on your spine and your brain slammed against your skull. Groaning, you tried to breathe through the pain.

It all came roaring back when a massive weight fell into your gut, pushing the air out of your lungs in a massive below. The unblinking eyes of the raider sprawled over you stared back at you and you heaved him off with a grunt. Pushing to your knees, you just avoided a riderless horse as it galloped past you, back toward the commune.

There was still shouting, gunshots, shrieking horses and grunts of pain. As everything came back into focus, you managed to reach out and grab a raider by the ankle, sending him sprawling onto the ground in front of you. He turned onto his back, eyes wild as he leveled the barrel of a pistol between your eyes...

His head snapped back and his gun dropped from his hand, his whole body going limp from the bullet in the back of his head. Blinking against the sun, you could see the group of people running from the direction of Jackson, each of them stopping sporadically to steady themselves and fire off a shot. It was Joel who slowly lowered a rifle aimed in your direction, his eyes wild and his chest heaving.

The group was on you in the next second, falling on the last remaining raiders as they attempted to escape, leaving their dead behind. You hadn't made it to your feet yet, the pain in your arm screaming even as the pain in your head receded. It was Joel who finally hauled you up despite your cry of pain when he grabbed you under the arms.

"What is it? Where? Where does it hurt? Show me! Show me!!" You had never heard him sound so frantic as he ran his hands roughly over your body, unzipping your jacket to look for blood on your shirt.

"My-My arm. It's my arm."

His hands became gentle as he took your arm in his hands and cradled it for Dr. Hansen as he bustled over with a medical kit.

"Just a flesh wound," he said gruffly. "Let's get her back to the clinic. You'll need quite a few stitches. Thank christ you're the only injury."

Joel rounded on you, taking your other arm in his hand and placing a hand on your back to guide you back toward Jackson with the rest of patrol following close behind.

An hour later, you and Joel walked out of the clinic, your arm freshly stitched but still burning in pain. Joel had watched over Dr. Hansen like a bear until you thought the two of them would come to blows. You were exhausted and just wanted to shower and sleep forever. Joel had been quite since you had gotten back and you had a feeling he would blow up when you got back to your house, ban you from ever going on patrol again, and sleep outside your bedroom door with his rifle.

"Joel," you finally prodded as you stepped onto the porch of the clinic, his back to you as he stared out over the town, hands on his hips. "Are you okay?"

Silence.

You sighed. "Joel, will you please--"

"Let's get married."

You blinked, not sure if you had heard that right or if you had rattled your brain more than you thought.

"I'm sorry?"

He turned to face you, his face completely serious. "Let's get married. Right now."

"Joel, what are you--"

He strode toward you and cupped your face so tenderly you could have cried. He let out a trembling breath as he leaned his forehead against yours. "We should have gotten married the day we got to Jackson. It didn't seem important then but now...I didn't know why."

You reached up to grip his wrists. "It doesn't matter to me if we make it official in any way or any of the legal stuff. Is that what's bothering you?"

"You could have died today."

That realization settled into your stomach for the first time and you barely suppressed a shudder. "I could have."

"We've both almost died a hundred times since we've met, and every day I wondered...would they have buried us next to each other? Would anyone have known that we loved each other after we're gone?"

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless, enamored by this man who made you weak.

"I just..." he took a shuddering breath. "I-I love you on purpose. And I want everyone to know. I want you to know."

You opened your mouth once. Twice. "I...okay. Yes. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"TOMMY!"

His shout sent your brain reeling again and you nearly fell as he let go of your head and whirled around.

Tommy poked his head out from behind the horse he was leading to the barn. "Yeah?"

"Where's Pastor John? Y/N and I are getting married."

"What?"

"Pastor John? Where is he?"

"I heard that part." Tommy had abandoned the horse to a passing woman and headed over, his face comically confused. "You're getting married?"

"Yeah."

"Right now?"

"Yes! Right now!"

Joel had grabbed your hand in his and was pulling you down the stairs toward the church.

"I...okay." Tommy trailed behind the two of you, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out for Pastor John. You had drawn a crowd by this point, Jackson citizens wandering out of the buildings and murmuring excitedly as Joel beat a warpath toward the church and you stumbled after him, grumbling at Tommy to stop yelling before you punched him.

Finally, Pastor John appeared out of the mess hall, adjusting his glasses and straightening the collar of his flannel like it was a full cassock. "What's all the hollerin' about?"

"Y/N and I are getting married," Joel stated as he came to a stop, causing you to run into him with a grunt. "Right now."

Pastor John blinked and looked at you as if for confirmation. You leaned into Joel and nodded happily, the reality of the situation finally beginning to settle. You were getting married. Joel wanted to marry you. And he wanted the whole town to see.

"Ah, okay," Pastor John finally said, adjusting his glasses again. "I guess we should head on over to the church."

The mass of people at your back grew with every step you took through the town until you were all 300 of them were tittering like school kids behind you.

"Move! MOVE! No, you get out of my way. Y/n!"

You turned in time to see Ellie shoulder her way through the crowd until she was at your side, her chest heaving like she had personally shoved aside all 300 people to reach you. She stared up at you with huge eyes. "Were you really going to get married without me?"

You cupped her face in your hands. "Baby, I didn't even know I was getting married until five minutes ago."

"Can I be your bridesmaid?"

You laughed. "Of course." She gave you a massive grin and threw her arms around your middle, holding you tight and you could hear her sniffling against your chest.

Twenty minutes later, every citizen in Jackson, from the oldest to the youngest, had squeezed into the small church with you and Joel at the front with Pastor Joe, Elli standing behind you holding a handful of daisies she had ripped from the ground outside the sheep pen.

"...I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

You expected a small, chaste peck on the lips, but Joel took your face in his hands and swooped down to take your mouth in a kiss so intense you had to grip his shoulders to stay upright. The church exploded in applause and cheers and Joel pulled you back upright, giving you one more chaste kiss before giving you the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. Taking your hand in his, he walked you down the crowded aisle.

He never let go of it again.

#The Last of Us #The Last of Us HBO #Joel Miller #Pedro Pasal #Joel Miller x Reader #TLOU #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller x Y/N #Joel Miller x You #The Last of us fanfiction #Awkward-Sultana #5 + 1 #TLoU fanfiction

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passthe5sauceplease · 3 months

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since people hyped up my 5 + 1 fic I'm posting a snippet for yall

please note that this is beta'd by @urgaydotca

“You’re what?!” Eddie shouted over the phone with a tone mixed with both pain and anger. The phone clutched in his hand so hard he was afraid he might break it.

“I'm leaving Texas,” Buck said more confidently than the first time he'd mentioned it. He didn't want to leave Eddie, but he still didn't know what was right for him yet. He promised himself and his sister that he'd do that, so that's exactly what he intended to do.

“Why? What the hell Buck?” Eddie couldn't believe what he was hearing, and over the phone nonetheless. Buck hadn't even bothered to show up in person to break his heart.

Buck sighed over the phone, running a hand through his hair and leaning against his jeep while thinking out his next words to his clearly angry soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

“I gotta figure it out myself, Eddie. I promised Maddie that I would a-and I promised myself that, too.” He stumbled over his words, wringing out his free hand as he looked around the gas station he was parked at.

He had thought about stopping by, but he was worried that Eddie would somehow manage to change his mind.

that's it. that's the snippet.

for the people in my comments:

@racerchix21 @pleasestopdeletingmyaccount @run-with-wolves @diazpatcher

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 abc #evan buck buckely #eddie and buck #buddie 911 #911 #buddie fic #5 + 1

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hoffmannwrites · 1 year

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On My List

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note: Look at me! New fic, new fandom, new style, ouhhh! So new, so shiny! Anywho, this is a 5+1 fic based off THIS text post which has been rattling around in my brain for weeks. Thank you @stevietruther for the insufferable thoughts in my brain.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, being inebriated (the gang is drunk here but nothing too bad, just in a fun way), uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, let me know if I missed anything?

You Spin Me Right Round

One

The first time Steve and Eddie kiss is also the first time Steve kisses Robin and Eddie kisses Argyle. It’s just the older members of the party and a few random acquaintances that tag along, and there ain’t shit to do but get high and drunk and play party games. Later into the night, when everyone is inebriated enough to feel comfortable around each other and they have managed to lose both beer pong balls, Vicki suddenly perks up, chest a blotchy bright red under her button up. “We should play spin the bottle,” she announces, feigning bravery with a hopeful glance in Robin’s direction.

“Oh fuck, seriously?” complains Steve, who is already doing a mental inventory of the people there and how terrible it would be to kiss all of them. Well, most of them, at least.

“What? You afraid someone’s gonna realize that Big Bad Sex God Harrington isn’t actually all he’s cracked up to be?” teases Eddie, pushing his shoulder into Steve’s with a huge smile on his face.

“No- that’s not- I just…the ratio is off!” Steve sputters, going hot under the collar. He knows that at least one of the girls is a lesbian and the other is his ex girlfriend and the OTHER is the girl his best friend has a crush on. And as he has this thought, his eyes shift to Robin who is wringing her hands in her lap, not looking anyone in the eye. Oh. Oh. This is her chance. To kiss Vickie without any one thinking too much about it. To see if Vickie is as into her as she is. To see if there are sparks, without any pressure. Because it’s just a drunken game.

“We’re actually gonna motor,” says Jeff, getting up off the floor and pointing to the two Hellfire members behind him. “As much as I would LOVE to stay and lock lips with Munson, some of us have actual jobs in the morning. And Gareth is 1 beer away from ralphing on Harrington’s front lawn.” Gareth just shrugs, knowing he is notorious for over imbibing.

The three Hellfire boys make their way out the door, leaving just the usual suspects and, of course, Vicki.

“See? Almost even now, Harrington. Pass me that empty Seagram’s,” says Eddie, oblivious to the fact that this is, by all accounts, a horrible idea.

“You go first if you’re so intent on planting one on all of us, Eds,” Steve replies, determined to call the older man’s bluff.

“Gladly.” And with that, Eddie spins the empty bottle and watches smugly as it settles on Argyle.

“Oh, come to Daddy, Surfer Boy!” Eddie exclaims, shooting his eyes from the bottle up to Argyle, who had already leaned over the bottle towards Eddie expectantly.

“Dude. I’m expecting greatness. Lay it on me, bro!” Argyle says so seriously it was startling and puckers his lips in the most cartoonish way possible. Eddie grabs his face with both hands and lays one quick and dramatic kiss directly to the other boy’s lips, complete with a loud “Mwah!” Sound effect added. Everyone chuckled at the display, all relaxing slightly due to the fact that the first victims of the game were the two must unserious people of the group, who had no problem breaking the ice.

The game continues, with Jonathan landing on Vickie. He decides to chivalrously go for a kiss on the hand, as he previously declared his loyalty to Nancy. Nancy lands on Robin and kisses her softly on the cheek, sighting the same reason as Jonathan. Argyle goes next and ends up landing on Jonathan. He kisses the photographer lightly on his forehead and pets his hair, which left Jonathan furrowing his brow, but laughing nonetheless. Vickie goes next. Robin holds her breath as the bottle spins and spins and spins for what feels like a lifetime until it lands on…Robin. The girls lock eyes immediately and Vickie subconsciously ducks her head and pushes a piece of hair behind her ear. They turn to each other and just kiss. No preamble or bullshit explanations or disclaimers. They just kiss softly and sweetly for a few moments before breaking away. Neither girl says anything, but Robin is noticeably redder in the face and Vickie seems to lean into her just slightly for the rest of the night.

Next is Robin’s turn and although she prays to whatever high power she can think of for the bottle to land on Vicki again, it lands on Steve. “Ugh man, no! Gross!” Robin whines. “Dems da rules, sugar plum,” Eddie smirks and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Fuck. Fine! But Capital P, guys. I’m so serious,” she warns everyone before turning to Steve. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best not to woo you with my masculine charms,” Steve says before kissing her so quickly that if anyone blinked they would have missed it.

“Ew,” she states simply when it’s over and wipes off her lips dramatically, like a petulant child wiping away a kiss from their mother. Steve silently takes the bottle and spins it, just begging that it lands on anyone except his ex girlfriend. Anyone! Anyone at all even…Eddie. It stops on Eddie and Steve looks at him, like a big brown eyed idiot in headlights, all that previous confidence gone. Eddie clears his throat, shuffles almost uncomfortably. “So, you gonna show me what Hawkins’s Most Eligible has to offer?” he asks, trying so hard to look like he’s not sweating bullets.

And Steve is just drunk enough that he’s got the balls to shut Eddie up the way he’s been thinking about for months, since he was called “big boy” in that stupid trailer when the world was ending. Suddenly, Steve is all siren-eyes and sex appeal, letting his voice drop just a little when he almost whispers “Get ready, big boy,” and grabs Eddie by the back of the neck. Steve tilts Eddie up just enough and takes his sweet time leaning in and ghosting over Eddie’s lips, just enough to make him shiver a little, but not enough for anyone to notice. They share each others air for a fraction of a second before Steve leans in the rest of the way and kisses Eddie, really kisses him, the way he’s been doing to girls for years. And Eddie kisses back, just enough that somewhere in the back of the rockers head, red flags and sirens are going off. But he doesn’t notice, too lost in the feeling of Steve on him to register anything else. They separate after what feels like entirely too long for a kiss during spin the bottle, and wait with bated breath. What for, they’re not sure. But no one says anything and the air feels like it’ll shatter is if they do. And then the moment is gone, because the doorbell rings and Argyle jumps up, chanting “Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” And suddenly they’re all too hungry to focus on that moment that felt just a little too charged. The rest of the night, Eddie and Steve take turns sneaking glances at each other, like they’re really noticing each other for the first time. But come the morning, everyone is too hazy on the night before to read into it. They all remember the nights activities, but no one thinks to question the tension, chalking it up to being cross faded. Except Eddie suddenly pays a lot more attention to Steve.

A/N: Fun fact! Wine coolers came out in the early 80s and have only gotten better tasting and more hangover inducing since!

#Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve x eddie #Steve Harrington x Eddie munson #stranger things #fluff #hoffmannwrites #5 + 1 #5 + 1 fic #spin the bottle #everyone lives/nobody dies #they're gay your honor #idiots to lovers #friends to lovers #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

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vwritesaus · 9 months

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The first thing Thomas notices is that he is standing in a well-lit room. Sunlight streams in through large arched windows, casting long rays along the floor and opposite walls from which framed paintings hang. He can’t make out any of the faces, most of them blurred or faded from age, but he can see every miniature groove in the elaborate frames carved with fleurs-de-lis, tiny leaves and rose petals. The second thing he notices is Alastair Carstairs sitting sideways on one of the window seats of those arched windows, his back leaning against the edge of the arch and one foot planted firmly on the seat, the toes of the other grazing the wooden flooring. His attention is fixed on the world beyond the glass panes—a streaked mass of fluffy clouds and a blue sky stretching for miles—and his expression is contemplative, almost serious. That attention quickly turns to Thomas, possibly having sensed his presence, and something close to coyness blooms to life in his expression. ‘Lightwood,’ he greets politely. When Thomas blinks and doesn’t respond—too shocked to do so, because Alastair Carstairs is talking to him? To Tiny Tom, willingly?—Alastair rolls his eyes. He swings his whole body around to face him, both feet on the floor and his gaze fierce. ‘Well?’ he prods. ‘Are you simply going to stand there like a cad, or are you going to come here and sit beside me?’

continue reading on ao3

hello!! long time no see, haha...

but here i am, and i bring with me a little fic i wrote for my wonderful best girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨✨ it's based off this art of hers where thomas dreams of kissing alastair, only to get rather the rude awakening lol. hope you enjoy it!!

tagging people who might be interested: @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone @ferrari-go-vroom-vroom @astriefer @luciehercndale @claritywithclary @bluewrite

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

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setokaibapetty · 6 months

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5 + 1 Fic Friday Roundup: It Has Pictures!

Some fanfiction that is made of images or comes with images; it was inspired by a piece of art or has inspired the creation of fanart.

Servant to a Different King (AO3) - "As the head disciple of An Ding Peak, Shang Qinghua threw the plot out the window and abandoned his sect, and now he enjoys a luxurious life as Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan's most treasured and trusted advisor, as the happy couple rules over the Demon Realm together with iron fists. He has everything a transmigrator could want."

The many lives of Hatake Raiden (AO3) - A series of variations of an SI as Kakashi's child.

I'll Tell No Lies (AO3) - "When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job."

Like Betta Fish Do (AO3) - "Danny had ended up trespassing in Jason's haunt. He didn't mean to. Total accident, he swears. (He blames Johnny.) So he bought the other halfa a basket of bathbombs and chocolate as a 'sorry, please don't disembowel me' gift. It was the proper thing to do, alright?"

Odin's Son, Tyr's Son (AO3) - "This whole thing sprang from a prompt wherein someone saw Loki being mistreated, myth-style, and stepped in to stop it. That's Chapter 1 of the first story. Everything else in that story is the fallout from that moment. The rest of the series grew from there."

Bonus: Mando Back to the Clone Wars (AO3) - "In which Din and Boba are time travelers--and also tiny. Din has no idea what's going on, but focuses on one goal: reuniting with Grogu. Boba's along for the ride. Unfortunately for them, the misunderstandings are only beginning..."

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okayplanetary · 1 year

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#fic recs – Goncharov (1973) [English] [No Crossovers] [SFW] [>1k words]

My personal top 5 recs for Goncharov (1973) fics currently on AO3. Click a moodboard to read just based on vibes. Or if you’re picky, full reviews & tags are below. (But you won't regret reading any of these.)

1 : A Brief Pause by QueenRiza [ot3]

2 : we, so like birds on broken wings (come to warn the sun of thieves) by IdentityConstellations [Katya-centric]

3 : what started as a fever by waterandsilver [Sofia-centric]

4 : Coffee O’Clock by Erisah_Mae [Coffee Shop AU]

5 : I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm by jriracha [Modern AU] [ot4]

(+1) : Real Power by Mortalmab [Ice Pick Joe]

Preface

The great thing about Goncharov (1973) fics is that you barely even need to be familiar with the source material to enjoy them and understand what's going on. The film was rediscovered only about a week ago, and the fans have taken to it with an enthusiasm that borders on the deranged and alarming. At the time of posting (26-11-2022) there are over 580 fics on the Archive—when I started this two days ago, there were about 100 fewer.

I've now read well over a hundred fics in this fandom and I've gotta say there are some incredible bangers. The 2022 revival of Goncharov (1973) has clearly sparked a ton of creativity—I lost count of how many author’s notes I saw from people who hadn’t written in years or were posting for the first time. I added at least 20 titles to my list of faves before (agonizingly) needing to narrow it down.

Overall, fics for Goncharov (1973) are more aesthetic and character-driven than plot-focused, so they’re a pleasure to read if you're in a literary mood. I had a ton of fun putting together my moodboards because these stories are all so decadently evocative. And we love tropes in this fandom, so if you're a bit of a film nerd, you might recognize a few motifs from the movie!

Lastly, shoutout to @clockworkspider’s recent post on fic recs in fandom for inspiring me to do this.

These 5 (+1) fics range from 1k–6k words and are non-explicit, but may include canon-typical violence.

1 : A Brief Pause by QueenRiza [ot3] [character study] [canon-compliant] [Katya] [Andrey]

A Brief Pause just squeaked past my 1k word cutoff for this list, but its 1,034 words are absolutely packed with insinuation and exhilarating sexual tension. Reading this felt like biting into a chocolate truffle—so rich and luxurious you only need a little.

This fic is a true OT3 among Goncharov, Katya, and Andrey, and you get a strong sense of the link between each of them. It’s a vignette centred on an exchange between Katya and Andrey, set after the boat scene. Since it’s canon-compliant, don’t expect a happy ending—still, it left me feeling electrified (and honestly, a little hot under the collar). I’m personally obsessed with this OT3 so this one gets top billing from me, though each fic on this list is top-tier in its niche.

CW: [canon-typical violence]

2 : we, so like birds on broken wings (come to warn the sun of thieves) by IdentityConstellations [Katya-centric] [Goncharov/Katya] [canon-compliant] [character study]

A multi-chapter Katya character study? Yes, please! we, so like birds on broken wings follows Katya's perspective on her marriage to Goncharov starting from pre-canon. Its imagery is vivid and striking, and it paints Katya in a softer light than we see in the film.

Although the focus of the story is Katya and Goncharov's relationship, we also get tastes of Goncharov/Andrey and Andrey/Katya, and a whisper of Katya/Sofia. It’s character-focused, introspective, and poignant, offering the reader glimpses of emotion as the plot advances inexorably in the background. It's beautiful in a tragic way—much like Katya herself.

CW: [canon-typical violence] [period-typical sexism] [non-graphic implied murder] [implied infidelity]

3 : what started as a fever by waterandsilver [Sofia-centric] [Goncharov/Katya] [Katya/Sofia]

I never knew how much I needed a fic about grungy 70s lesbian mobsters until I read what started as a fever. A very slight AU that imagines how the story might have gone if Sofia were a member of Goncharov’s crew. To wit: quite differently and yet much the same.

Perhaps some things are inevitable even if you are an incredibly cool, hot, and buff lesbian working for the mob in grungy 1970s Naples and pining for a married bisexual woman. Sofia makes the best of it, and this fic gives a visceral rendition of her side of the story.

CW: [canon-typical violence] [infidelity] [betrayal] [non-explicit mentions of past sex] [lavender marriage]

4 : Coffee O’Clock by Erisah_Mae [Coffee Shop AU] [Goncharov/Katya] [Katya/Sofia]

No fandom is complete without a coffee shop AU, and thankfully Coffee O’Clock has us covered. It might also be considered a “for want of a nail” fic—Katya runs a coffee shop in Naples blissfully unaware that it’s a front for the mob, and Goncharov doesn’t have the heart to tell her.

It features a guest appearance by fan fave Ice Pick Joe and plenty of Italian coffee drink snobbery. It’s a little less serious and evocative than most stories for Goncharov (1973) aim for, but overall it’s an utterly charming read with no bad vibes.

CW: [none]

5 : I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm by jriracha [Modern AU] [ot4] [Goncharov/Andrey] [Katya/Sofia] [Goncharov/Katya] [fluff]

I admit this fandom has a tendency toward very aesthetic angst, and I’m personally guilty of indulgence in the same, but sometimes all you want is a fic where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm is that fic for Goncharov (1973).

This story is cotton candy fluff, where our four faves play board games and kiss in their cozy apartment. In this AU, there’s no mafia, no betrayal, and lots of love. You will be happy you read this.

CW: [none]

+1 : Real Power by Mortalmab [Ice Pick Joe] [Katya] [strong female character] [no relationships]

It’s simply not possible to put together a list of 5 things in fandom without adding a +1, and Real Power certainly deserves a mention. There are no ships. The main character is Ice Pick Joe.

Ice Pick Joe, a slightly-above-goon-tier mobster, meets Katya and gets a free lesson on power. She doesn’t use an ice pick.

CW: [canon-typical violence] [illness] [asphyxiation] [non-graphic past murder]

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darsynia · 1 year

Note

Ace challenge mode since you asked: Some interactions between Bruce Banner and Tony Stark? Science buddies! Maybe while they’re working on engineering projects together or on their downtime.

I had a lot of fun writing this, it's surprisingly heartfelt, and I hope I've come up with what you were looking for! Science Bros!

Summary: Tony's really excited to have a lab partner of Bruce Banner's intelligence and skill, but he definitely doesn't want to do anything to set him off. It… takes a while to calibrate.

Length | Rating: 3,635 | T (for language)

THIS IS MY VOTE FOR '5 + 1’ IN ROUND 1 OF TROPE MADNESS 2023 which is run by @thestanceyg! (note: also posted on AO3, same title!)

Tags: @deepbatched @djarinsbf, @starryeyes2000 @themaradaniels @ronearoundblindly @tiny-anne

5 Times Tony Almost Pushed Bruce Too Far, and 1 Time He Definitely Did

(1)

Bruce Banner was a morning person. Luckily, Tony knew this in advance, so he’d recorded a whole Welcome Message for JARVIS to play on the first morning Banner had access to the lab floor in the tower.

What Tony hadn’t realized (but should have) was that Banner lacked the patience to listen to Tony’s self-aggrandizing message when there was a bunch of expensive equipment to play with. So when Tony went to find Bruce at the crack of ten AM, his new friend was already arms-deep in one of the machines, figuring out how it worked. Out of sight. Where Tony wouldn’t know not to startle him.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Tony boomed, seconds after he’d walked through the door.

There was a dull thud and a very un-Bannerian swear word.

Things went downhill from there.

An hour later…

“Mind if I put on some music? How about…” Tony snapped his fingers, and Zeppelin started blaring. That was a surprise, because his Welcome Message had made clear that Bruce ought to pick a few songs for the two of them to share, and if he did not, then Tony would pick them. This was one of Tony’s choices.

No response.

“Okay, maybe this is more your speed?” A finger snap swapped the music instantly to Metallica, Suicide and Redemption, which Tony thought was a really clever touch.

Across the room, Bruce looked at the ceiling but didn’t comment.

Tony tipped his head to the side. It was possible that someone with the side effect of turning into a green monster when he was angry might not go for heavy metal while working, but that was why he’d had JARVIS set up to ask Bruce to pick his own. Ahh, well. He’d planned for that, too.

This particular lab had one of the best speaker systems money could buy, and Tony had commissioned a buddy of his to record a version of Pachelbel’s Canon to take advantage of that.

He waited to pull the trigger on that till Bruce was doing something less important like scribbling into his notebook.

“Okay I get it. You’re not into that kind of music. I’ve got you covered, my friend,” Tony said, snapping his fingers one last time.

The loudness of the beginning notes made some of the glass beakers shiver against each other, and Bruce actually jumped in surprise, his pencil scratching a long line across the notebook page.

“Tony, what the hell are you trying to--” Bruce took off his watch, tucked away his glasses. “I thought you invited me here because you wanted to collaborate, and I am happy to see that you’re able to work in tandem silence. But I gotta say, it really seems like you want me to--” He stopped, hands at his fists turning distinctly non-flesh colored.

“Shit, Bruce, I’m sorry. I got excited,” Tony said, hating that his instinct was to make sure he had a readily-available suit of armor to don for future lab visits. If there were going to be any. Today’s was clearly over, because Bruce was already heading for the door.

“I didn’t make clear how important this was to me,” Banner said through gritted teeth as he walked past. His ears were actually green.

“So, no music then?” Tony said, in a desperate bid for levity.

“No music.”

The bleak, double-toned resonance behind those two words had Tony feeling like shit for the rest of the day, even though Bruce hadn’t even slammed the door.

(2)

It took some delicate e-mailing and three days for Bruce to come back to the lab, and two more days after that for Tony to join him.

He was prepared, this time. Tony wore a suit. He put those CSI booties over his shoes, wore sunglasses to obscure his expression, and he stuck a hand-sized whiteboard into a holster on his belt, for communication. Everything that Tony Stark could do to mitigate how being himself might set off his new science buddy, he’d do, because this was really important to him, too.

When he walked in on that fifth day and Bruce looked up, the way his confused expression turned into giggles told Tony he’d done something right.

“Okay, see, now that’s funny. Go take all that off and join me? I need three hands, and you’re one of them.”

(3)

Even when Tony was the most happy, there was always something at the very back of his mind that worried about what could go wrong. Here, the thing that could go the most wrong was Bruce feeling like he wasn’t safe to stay and be Tony’s very best science buddy ever. Bruce had made him promise to come up with some contingency plans for containing the Hulk, and they were in progress, but not all fully implemented yet.

That was why at two in the morning after a stretch of eight hours in the lab, Tony went for containment overkill when he heard a slicing noise followed by a sound of pain from Bruce.

“JARVIS, isolate the lab. Be ready to cut power if necessary. Bruce?”

“Tony, please tell me that doesn’t include the internet?” Banner sounded upset, but not upset upset, so that was a good sign.

“Whatever you need, you let me know, okay?”

“I need you to stop it with this hair trigger!” Bruce came around from behind some machines to hold up two pieces of a mechanical belt that had been sheared in half. “I promise you, I have a handle on myself.” He scratched his head, looking like a cross between a kindergarten teacher wearing a scientist’s costume and a student that just got in trouble. “It’s starting to feel like you don’t trust me with your stuff.”

“Shit. I didn’t think of it that way,” Tony winced. “I definitely trust you. You’re the Phthalo Green Giant, I swear.”

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed, and Tony grinned, pulling out the whiteboard he still wore in its holster for shits and giggles. On it, he wrote: p h t HALO.

“You said you quit drinking alcohol?” Bruce asked.

Confused, Tony nodded.

“Maybe start that back up?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

(4)

Working with Bruce was like having a lab partner who didn’t actually hate you, who could keep up, and even better: had better ideas than you did sometimes. It was a dream come true.

All the more reason to learn how not to screw it up.

“So, do you have any guidelines on how I can avoid the Large of the Light Brigade?”

Bruce had been sipping his tea, apparently, and the sucked-in laugh at Tony’s awful pun caused him to cough violently.

“Shit,” Tony said, unsure of whether he should also laugh, or start running. He quickly grabbed a paper towel, small garbage can, and a broom, and approached cautiously with all three of them outstretched. “Pick one?”

“Am I supposed to hit you with the broom?” Banner’s voice was scratchy, but he didn’t sound upset.

“I figured, you know, either barf or get out the aggression before it becomes a problem.”

“Tony, I mean this in the nicest way, but you seem to be the only one out of the two of us with a problem. I’m not going to Hulk out if my tea goes down the wrong way.”

“In my defense, that’s why I was asking the smart-ass question in the first place!”

Bruce sighed and turned back toward his workspace, but the edge of his lab coat knocked down his tea cup, which shattered. Bruce was faced away, and he just dropped his head in silent defeat for a few seconds.

Tony set down the garbage can sideways, anchored it with one foot, and swept the broken pieces into it. The paper towel wasn’t quite enough to get all the tea, but it was close.

“There, all set. As penance, can I get you the mug I saw online the other day? It had the Hulk wrapped in the American flag and the words ‘Star Spangled Banner.’”

“Never change, Tony,” Bruce said in a strangled sort of voice.

“I mean, I will if I need to, that’s why I asked.”

Bruce turned around, a strangely tender expression on his face. “You don’t, but uh…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking as though he were at a loss for words. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

(4)

Bruce had clearly gotten a satirist from The Onion to write his list. It had stuff like ‘don’t fire a gun at me’ and ‘don’t wake me up with a bucket of cold water and an air horn.’ All things that would make Tony Hulk out if he had the capability.

They were working on a piece of Chitauri tech that he’d talked the government into letting him examine. When Tony walked into the lab, Bruce looked like he’d already been working for hours.

“I see you got the list,” he said with a shy smile, his face lit up by the purple glow of the device in his hand.

“Yeah, either that, or I got a kindergartener’s list of pranks! I thought you said you were always angry.”

Bruce was about to answer when Tony got an idea, holding up a finger and crossing the room to grab one of his early armored gauntlet prototypes. It still had actual wiring to connect to the power source, instead of the surface to surface transfer technology he’d come up with since then.

“You’re planning to… what? Jam those leads into this thing?” Bruce held up the glowing pod.

“Sure, why not?”

“I just gave you a list of why not!”

“So I’ll put on the suit, and you can go hide in my office instead of being a Guinea Big!”

Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

“You don’t want to know,” Tony grinned.

(5)

The best way to fight back against the ridiculousness of Bruce’s List, in Tony’s opinion, was to print out an extra copy of it and pin the damned thing on the wall. As with any sort of sticky note or wall sign, though, it didn’t take long for the List to fade into the scenery for Tony, where he didn’t really notice it anymore. That was until he saw it was different, one morning.

There were three new lines.

Do not set your coffee cup down on my notes

Turn off all power to equipment you are not using, so you do not electrocute anyone

RELAX. You’re my friend

Tony almost got emotional.

Bruce could have gotten upset, could have told him about the first two, but he didn’t, probably because of the third. That was on Tony.

He resolved to do better.

(oops)

“Tony.”

Immediately, Tony knew there was a problem. There was a depth to Bruce’s tone that wasn’t usually there, a recognizable depth.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous. I’ll just--”

“Damnit, it’s too late!”

Bruce was right; the current was overloading, and since Tony had just been trying something out, something that wasn’t meant to conduct that well, he’d skipped past some of the safety shit. Except instead of risking his eyesight by looking away without his safety goggles, he’d risked his whole life by without having a safe, grounded place to stand.

“JARVIS, kill the power!” As he spoke, Tony pulled the Fe-Hulk bracelets out of his pocket and clasped one to Bruce’s wrist, grabbing at the other with the desperation of someone who knew his plan would work. He’d built Bruce’s version of the protective suit in secret, because Bruce Banner was the kind of friend who would make you promise not to do something like that if he found out about it.

If he was protected by something other than his angry alter-ego, Bruce Banner shouldn’t feel unsafe enough to need to.

“Get down-- no, what are you--”

The rest of Bruce’s words were unintelligible, as large arcs of current started bowing out from the device. Tony was thrown sideways before he could get the other bracelet on. The last thing he saw before he passed out was an angry green blur.

Tony woke up in a hospital bed, which was just insulting. He was rich enough for someone to have called in all the medical people on site, wasn’t he? Was there footage of him being gurneyed somewhere while unconscious? How the hell had Pepper allowed this to--

“Tony?” It was Bruce, standing at the window.

“How bad is it?” Tony whispered.

“You have a concussion and a broken arm. Looks like about twenty thousand dollars of damage to the lab, but you’re alive, so--”

“No, the-- really?” Tony scowled and it hurt, which was new. “I mean, how much groveling do I need to do to keep you around! Do you have a suitcase hiding in the bathroom? Smart of you to run off while I’m damaged and incapable of following you, but you should remember I can fly.”

“You’re-- That’s what you’re worried about? Not the fact that I hurt you?”

“I don’t remember anything like that.” Bruce walked over, his brows furrowed, but Tony kept going. “In fact, I remember my best friend doing something he absolutely hates so he could crouch over me like a protective green lightning rod. Oh, wow, I really do have a concussion. That was terrible. I can do better, hold on.”

“Tony--”

“Hulk Norris!” He grinned up at Bruce, who was doing his level best to look cross, and completely failing. “That’s a thank you, by the way.”

“I gathered,” Bruce said. He looked down at the bed, hand fiddling with the adjustable side like he wasn’t sure he could stand to make eye contact. “Best friend?”

“You bet your big green ass,” Tony said, immediately frowning. “Shit, I’m off my game.”

“Keep that up and I’ll put nicknames on the List.”

Tony gasped, clutching his chest in actual horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I suppose that wouldn’t be Ferrous.”

“I thought you had healing factor! That pun is clearly the result of brain damage,” Tony declared, unable to look at Bruce for fear of giving away how pleased he was that his lab screw-up hadn’t driven him away. He raised his voice, calling toward the closed room door. “Nurse! Nurse, this man needs a check-up right now.”

It was a few days before Tony was cleared for lab work, and even then, it was more lab clean-up than anything else. In truth, the Hulk hadn’t actually created too much chaos. It was all in the center of the room, meaning that the equipment itself was damaged, but none of the structural elements. Tony used the suit to help him lift and deconstruct what was left, but once he’d gotten most of it, he walked over to the far wall, where the List usually was.

There, added right to the bottom of the ‘Things That Make Bruce Hulk Out’ was a new entry:

Not valuing your life as much as I do.

#bruce banner fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #bruce banner and tony stark friendship #trope madness 2023 #tm2023 #science bros #tony stark and bruce banner friendship #fluff #friendship #genfic #bruce banner and tony stark #tony stark and bruce banner #5 + 1 #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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destinationtoast · 1 year

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cats & tropes: 5 + 1

Five times Winter was blurry or mostly out of frame when I tried to take her photo...

... and one time, she wasn't.

#cats #tropes #five times plus one #5 + 1 #little kitty winter #toasty's adventures in unexpected feral kittens #op

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with-u-tillthe-endoftheline · 1 year

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i don't care how old i get, 5 + 1 fanfics are always gonna hit just right.

#fanfic #fanfiction #original content #archive of our own #5 + 1 #it was #ruehob #acofaf

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morenotles · 1 year

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Windows Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski, Malia Tate Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Mutual Pining, Hurt Stiles, Getting Together, Stiles Falls Out of Windows a lot, Don’t copy to another site Summary:

“What are you doing?”

Stiles started so violently that his hands slipped. He was leaning out so far, and his balance had been relying on his hands so much that he just tumbled right out the window, rolling along the slanted roof and letting out a loud shout when he fell over the end.

He landed hard on his side, pain shooting up his shoulder and let out a very loud curse that his neighbours probably all heard. He rolled onto his back with a groan, clutching at his injured shoulder, and opened his previously closed eyes in time to see Derek standing on the roof, staring down at him with the eyebrows.

How was Derek’s entire language just eyebrows?

“What the hell?” Stiles demanded, sitting up and still holding his injured arm. “Where did you come from?”

“The door,” Derek informed him, giving him a look.

#sterek #fanfic #5 + 1

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tahthetrickster · 7 months

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finding out about like 90% of bg3 shit like thirdhand whenever it crosses one of my feeds is so funny what do you mean the fucking cleric has higher str than the rapier-wielding folk hero warlock

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #bg3

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hoffmannwrites · 1 year

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On My List

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note: OMG this is the last part. I can't believe I actually finished a fic?? who am I??? anywho, this part gets a little hot and heavy, so just a warning there. Nothing super explicit, but like dicks are mentioned. Thank you for reading alone and indulging me!!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, heavy petting, brief sex talk, gay stereotypes, brief mention of Upside Down induced PTSD and panic attacks, uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, let me know if I missed anything?

I Think We're Alone Now

+ 1

There’s only so many platonic kisses from a super hot jock that a single-braincelled gay man can take. And 5 is the limit. Eddie has been absolutely losing it since he high tailed it out of the last sticky situation he was in with Steve, still trying to wrap his brain around what the fuck was happening. He’s gone back and forth between a bunch of different theories, but usually ends up ping-ponging between “Steve is just a very affectionate friend who is comfortable in his heterosexuality” and “Steve keeps kissing me for a reason”. Eddie refuses to acknowledge the fact that this reason is because Steve actually likes kissing other boys in a very gay, very homosexual way, refuses to even toy with the idea that Steve likes him in that kind of way. But even though he fully believes it is actually impossible, Eddie has been mildly avoiding Steve for the past few weeks. Not totally! But anytime that Eddie isn’t sure if Robin is also working, he waits to return his tapes until he’s sure she is. And anytime Steve calls to invite Eddie over for movie night or to do something with the kids or anything, Eddie makes sure he leaves early enough that he’s not the last one standing. Makes sure he only goes into the kitchen for a snack when someone else is already in there. It’s just safer this way, he thinks. He doesn’t have to deal with the issue if it’s never really an issue, right? Doesn’t have to answer or ask any questions if he and Steve aren’t alone together for them to come up.

However, Steve isn’t a complete fucking idiot and notices something is up. It takes him a little while, assuming Eddie is just busy with the band or D&D for a couple weeks before he really starts to notice the pattern. But once he does, he’s worried. Worried because he knows what Eddie’s been through in the past year, knows from personal experience how hard it is to live in "the after" of that. He knows that sometimes it can take a long time to really process and show any signs of PTSD, knows it can get even worse around the anniversary of the event (which is right about…now actually). And above all of it, he knows how fucking lonely it is, how hard it is to try to do it by yourself. I mean, hell, Steve didn’t really have anyone to talk to until Robin came around, because it was just too weird with Jonathan and Nancy, and the kids were just kids. And even after he had Robin, he still had to go home sometimes. Usually to an empty house. And even if it wasn’t empty, it’s not like he could tell his parents what was going on, just had to put on a brave face and blame his weird mood on a failed algebra test or a bad day at work. So yeah, he’s no stranger to having to go through all this shit alone and trying to just deal with the impossible- with the way his scars itch and he always feels like there’s something just around the corner and the ringing in his ears sometimes and the migraines and the way his chest starts to tighten when he thinks about any of it too hard. And Steve is determined to make sure Eddie doesn’t have to go through that alone, not like he did.

So they have a movie night. It’s supposed to be Eddie’s turn to pick, but he’s waiting for the new Evil Dead to get in at Family Video, so they let El pick and she chooses The Goonies (after some helpful suggestions from Robin), which no one is opposed to because it’s fricking The Goonies. And they're at the point where Chunk is telling the Fratellis about everything bad he’s ever done when Steve gets up and goes to the kitchen to make more popcorn. He hates yelling during the movie, but knows it’ll actually be less distracting in the long run. “Eddie can you come here and help me with something?” He knows Eddie is about to complain, ask why someone else can’t do it, he can feel it in his bones like a sixth sense, so he continues. “I need someone tall.” He knows Argyle is actually the tallest out of the group, but he’s been passed out in the recliner since the Truffle Shuffle. He also knows Eddie will never resist an opportunity to remind everyone that he is exactly one inch taller than Steve and yes it matters.

Eddie hops up from his spot on the floor, too blinded by his own ego to see this is obviously a trap. Steve would never ask him for help to reach something, his pride would prevent him. But Eddie is in the kitchen now, and Steve is pointing to the cabinet above the fridge “there’s more popcorn in there, I just can’t reach it.”

“Aw, too short down there in under 6-foot land? Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you, seeing that I’m the tallest man in the world,” Eddie says, patting Steve on the head patronizingly.

“In the world?” Steve just repeats, in disbelief at how Eddie’s ego knows no bounds.

“Ever, actually,” he casually replies, handing Steve the box of Pop Secret with a smug smile.

He turns on his heel to return to the living room, but Steve grabs his wrist before he can.

“Uh, actually I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” Steve says, voice softer and eyes kinder than they were a minute ago.

Oh no. Oh no oh fuck oh shit. He was about to tell Eddie that he thought this had all gone too far and he knew Eddie had a big fat gay crush on him and that Steve was flattered but just Straight with a capital S. And that was fine! Eddie could live with that, it was honestly probably the best let down he could hope for. But it was so nice living in this delusion where every kiss with Steve didn’t have an overcast cloud of “he rejected you!” over it yet. But Eddie realizes that he’s going to have to have this conversation sooner or later. And he wants to run, oh god does he want to high tail it the fuck outta dodge, but he can’t. No more running, right?

“Ohkayyyy,” Eddie says, feigning oblivion. He decided to stay, not to face it like a man. Baby steps.

“I just uh.. I just noticed that you’ve been ya know kinda off the past few weeks." (Eddie starts to sweat) "You haven’t been around as much-" (his eyes are looking everywhere except Steve) "-and you pretty much always leave while it’s still light out-" (oh god was it that obvious that he didn’t want to be alone with Steve at night?) "- and you’re just keeping to yourself a little more.” (God he’s so fucking transparent) “I just wanted to let you know that, I get it." (Here is comes) "It’s been a year since everything and it’s never easy on the anniversary and I know it’s fucking scary but you don’t have to do this alone." (Steve is still holding his wrist) “You know, you have me and Robin and everyone else to talk to or to stay with and we get it. And I know it’s hard to talk about this shit, but you went through literal hell and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. " (Wait he’s confused) "We’re all still processing and dealing with that trauma and PTSD is super complicated, so like we’re here to talk. It helps a lot more than you think, and I just don’t want you to have to deal with all your Upside Down shit alone, okay?" (He’s still confused but putting the pieces together.)

And Eddie just stairs at Steve for a minute, computing everything Steve just said. Just stares for too long then is appropriate, probably. And Steve looks so concerned, so sincere. And Eddie can’t help but laugh. Fucking fully toothygrincan’tbreathe LAUGH. And now Steve’s a little pissed because, hey man-we all went through shit and people died and we almost died it’s not fucking funny. But before he can chastise Eddie, the taller man is apologizing. “Oh fuck I’m sorry. I’m not—that was really sweet. And I appreciate the fuck outta you. That’s just so not where I thought this conversation was going.”

Steve’s relieved. “Oh.”

Eddie’s relieved “Yeah.”

“So where did you think it was going? “

Eddie is no longer relieved. “Oh it’s nothing.”

“Because something is definitely up with you.”

Fuck. Damn Harrington and his spider sense for always knowing what’s wrong.

Eddie has a couple options. He can keep walking on eggshells, ignoring his friends, and flaking early and pretend like nothing is happening forever. (Or until his crush on Steve goes away. Which it won’t. So forever). He can stop doing that, but still avoid this conversation, and just act like nothing ever happened. (Which notably will be impossible, with the way he can’t ever take his eyes off Steve when they’re together.) Or he can face this. Right here, right now. He can tell Steve what’s going on and they can both get the fuck over it. And hell, the man saved the entire world with a guitar solo, he can face a straight boy not liking him back.

“I like you”

“Yeah I’d hope so. You’re in my home and we’ve been hanging out for like a year.”

“No like… I have, uh, romantic feelings for you. And I know you don’t feel the same and you’re straight and that’s fine, I just couldn’t keep dealing with being around you all the time and you flirting back and kissing me because even though I know it never meant anything to you, it meant something to me and was really confusing so I just had to put some distance there. And I know that you’re probably gonna be pretty upset with me for, like, being gay and letting you joke with me or whatever and that’s fine, I just, uh. Yeah. That’s why I’m being weird. The Upside Down stuff is like, completely secondary to everything else going on in my head right now.”

Steve just lets Eddie ramble. Lets him get it all out while he listens with his arms folded across his chest and eyebrows raised. Once Eddie finally finishes, finally meets Steve’s eyes, Steve can’t help but quirk his brows into the bitchiest expression he can muster.

“First of all, you gotta sort out your priorities. The anniversary of our group shadow dimension almost-death should definitely come before worrying about boys. Second of all, who told you that?”

Eddie’s a little taken aback at Steve’s nonchalance. And confused again. “Told me what?”

“Like. Half of that shit. That I’d be mad at you for flirting with me? That it was a joke? That I’m straight?”

Now that last one really catches Eddie off-guard. “Well. No one. But like. You are. Right? Straight I mean.”

Steve’s face is just getting more contorted as this conversation goes on. “Eddie!” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Who’s my favorite singer?”

“What?”

“Answer the question”

“Springsteen. Or Madonna.”

"And what’s my favorite movie?"

“You tell everyone its Animal House but its Rocky Horror.”

It’s like Eddie doesn’t even hear the words that are coming out of his own mouth. And Steve is looking at him wide eyed with an eerily similar expression to the one Robin gave him in that Star Court bathroom stall in the summer of ‘85. “Eddie…” he takes a step closer and Eddie move his eyes to meet Steve’s, brow still furrowed, ass now pressed against the countertop. Steve boxes him in, puts both hands on the counter on either side of Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie, wants to kiss him and shut him up and drown in those stupid big eyes so fucking bad, but apparently that hasn’t worked yet! Apparently kissing 5 times is just too vague for the metal head. So Steve does what he does best, he flirts relentlessly. His mouth is inches away from Eddie’s and Eddie looks almost drunk off it, trying to follow around Steve’s eyes and lips at the same time. “Remember what you called me in the RV when you were hotwiring it last spring break?” Steve is whispering into Eddie’s blushed skin.

Eddie swallows heavily trying to focus on the meaning behind the words and not just the fact that he can feel them on his skin. “Uh…big boy?” He says, voice almost squeaking, completely void of all previous bravado or sex appeal.

“Mhm,” Steve nods slightly. “I always knew I was into guys. But you calling me that, while hot wiring a fucking trailer. It wasn’t just Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street in a crop top or Tim Curry in those fishnets anymore. It wasn’t a hypothetical anymore. It was right in front of me. It was you. A little dirty and in leather and me in your fucking vest and you grinning up at me like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to me.” The whole time he’s making this confession, he’s whispering it straight into Eddie’s skin. He’s getting impossibly closer and ghosting over ever where Eddie needs him. But they’re crotch to crotch at this point and Eddie can feel Steve getting half hard against him at the thought of the memory and Eddie is quick to follow in his footsteps. Eddie is silent, eyes half closed and just relishing at Steve being all over him. “Eds..” Steve practically licks up Eddie’s neck, getting only a hum that sounds like a question back. He removes his right hand from its place on the counter and brings it to Eddie’s chin, gripping it just enough to shock him into opening his eyes and really looking at Steve. “Kiss me.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands are in Steve’s hair, his shoulders his waist, his ass, just moving trying to feel all of him. Steve is pressing him into the counter so hard now Eddie thinks there might be a bruise across the backs of his thighs, but he doesn’t fucking care because the way the front of their bodies press together is worth everything. Steve’s hands are in Eddie’s hair now, tugging just right and Eddie’s mouth opens enough to let Steve bite his bottom lip and tug. And Eddie almost moans out loud, but catches himself just in time. “Steve.” Now it’s his turn to return a noncommittal hum. “Steve-“ Eddie says more pointedly this time, pulijng him back just slightly by his pockets. Before Steve can protest, before he can let out the whine he's on the verge of, Eddie reminds him of their current situation. “There are kids in the other room. And if you keep going, I’m going to cream my jeans in your kitchen.” Steve loves the idea of Eddie cumming in his pants for him, if he’s being honest, but understands the issue. “Stay the night?” He asks with a few more kisses to Eddie’s neck. “You’ll be lucky if you ever get rid of me again” and Eddie has to practically drag Steve back to the living room, where they’re now sitting almost on top of each other on the floor against the couch. It takes about 10 minutes before the kids realize they never brought back popcorn and Nancy decides to go do it her damn self.

A/N:

The Goonies came out in June of 1985. It’s a banger. I think that El would really like it because it’s got adventure and friendship and bad guys who get what’s coming to them and has a happy ending. It remind her of her friends and she has a crush on Mikey (also rip Bob)

Popcorn was like huge in the 80s? Act 11 and Pop Secret both came out in the early 80s as microwave popcorn and so did a bunch of other brands. I didn’t know it came out so late??? Wtf??? I forget microwaves didn’t exist.

I named each of these chapters after a song from the 80s and they've all been period accurate accept for this one, which came out in August of '87 ( this would take place around March/April of '87), but it's fucking TIFFANY so I made an exception. Anywhore, here's a list of the songs in case you wanna check them out.

You Spin Me Round by Dead or Alive

Every Breath You Take by The Police

Happy New Year by Abba

Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors

Drive by The Cars

I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany

Thank you for reading my little fic, gay people in my phone! Feel free to follow my fandom Twitter @ hauntedvaginas , check me out on Ao3 @ hoffmannwrites or shoot me DM here if you ever wanna be my friend. I love you and I'm kissing you on the forehead.

#fluff #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things au #rattwrites #steve harrington #5 + 1 #5 + 1 fic #steddie fanfic #smut if you squint #idiots to lovers

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thegrandharveyspecter · 7 months

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Grumpy Lawyer, Sleepy Ant; a Harvey & Scott Drabble

Or; 5 times Harvey found Scott sleeping in an odd place, and 1 time it was normal

1. San Francisco Park Bench

Mike complained that Harvey had been working too much and he needed to do something else. So, Harvey took a flight down to San Francisco. He wasn't planning on meeting up with Scott; it just happened that way when Harvey was strolling through a park.

It was around 9:00PM, the sun was gone and the stars and moon were out. Scott Lang was laying on one of the benches, one arm hanging off the bench, the other draped over his eyes.

Harvey could've been gentle in waking Scott, like a normal human being, but Harvey wasn't normal and Scott shouldn't have been sleeping on a park bench.

Harvey kicked one of the bench's legs twice. Scott made a sort of straggled noise and jerked up. He would've fallen off had he not grabbed the back of the bench.

"What's happening?" Scott slurred, looking around in a daze. When his eyes landed on Harvey, he tilted his head. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you that," Harvey replied, dryly. "I thought you'd have more sense than to sleep outside on a park bench. You could be jumped any minute."

"Hey, if someone tried to attack me, I could defend myself easily," Scott said, stretching his arms above his head. "I don't always need my suit, you know. I can fight without it."

"I know, but it's still stupid sleeping outside on a bench," Harvey said. "Go home."

Scott got off the bench and smirked a little. "Be careful, Harv. It sounds like you care about my well-being."

Harvey rolled his eyes, turned Scott around and gave him a light push. "I don't. Now go home."

2. Subway Station

When someone called Harvey's office and told him that His Nuisance was sleeping in the subway station, Harvey thought for the hundredth time that he should get rid of Scott Lang. If the citizens of Seattle gave him a title like that, it meant too many people saw them together and assumed they were friends.

Harvey drove down to the subway station and wandered through the area. There weren't many people around but there was no sign of Scott. He started to wonder if it was just a prank call after a few minutes of nothing. It was when he was nearing a staircase that he saw Scott curled up like a cat under it.

Harvey kneeled and thought about how to wake him this time. He took his phone from his pocket and started searching for the alarm. He turned the volume up to 100 and pressed play.

The alarm blared obnoxiously loud, almost echoing. Scott shot upright and his head smacked against the bottom of the staircase. Harvey winced, thought Scott's helmet would've activated when he got up, but it didn't. Scott groaned and held his bleeding forehead.

"That hurt!" Scott whined. He turned and glared at Harvey. "What's the matter with you?!"

"That's what you get for sleeping under a staircase," Harvey said, unfazed by Scott's glare. "You're like a cat, curled under there."

Scott crawled out and Harvey stood with him. Scott continued to rub his forehead. He was going to have that headache for quite some time.

"Why were you sleeping under there?" Harvey asked.

"I was on a mission, I finished the mission, and then I took a nap," Scott said, still glaring. "It was nice until you came along. What if I got a concussion?"

"You're being dramatic."

"How did you even know where I was?" Scott asked, lowering his hand.

"Someone called the office and said they saw My Nuisance sleeping at the subway station, so I came looking."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "How did you know they were talking about me and not Mike?"

"Because everyone in Seattle calls Mike my kid brother or My Problem Child," Harvey said. "So when they said "Your Nuisance", I knew they were talking about you."

Scott was silent for a moment as he seemed to contemplate what that meant. Harvey could see the wheels turning and the lightbulb ding when Scott realized what being called Harvey's Nuisance meant.

"People here gave me a nickname for you, that means they think we're friends." Scott sounded too happy and his smile would've been contagious if Harvey was a normal person. "Are you still going to deny we're friends now?"

"We aren't friends."

Scott groaned loudly. "Come on! Stop being in denial!"

"Go home and sleep off that headache," Harvey said, waving him off. "Shoo."

"I have this headache because of you. You should at least give me a ride."

"Jesus...Fine."

3. Harvey's Pocket

Harvey, as it turned out, was not safe from Scott Lang for more than a few days before he pounced. Or rather, when he half popped out of Harvey's breast pocket and nearly gave him a heart attack. Apparently it wasn't the first time Scott slept in there.

"I use your pocket square as a blanket. What can I say? It's soft," Scott sighed in content. "You also work as a taxi this way, getting me to places I want or need to be."

Harvey grabbed one of Scott's tiny arms and pulled him out of his pocket. The little ant started squirming, but Harvey knew if he wanted to, Scott could grow back to proper size in a flash. He was just being indulgent.

"Listen, Knievel," Harvey said, scowling. "I'm not a taxi service and I'm not a bed."

"But you can be, Pops! You need to have more faith in your abilities." Scott's helmet was on, but Harvey knew for a fact he was smirking. Harvey shook him.

Scott shifted out of his grip and grew back to normal size. His helmet retracted and Harvey could officially see his smirk. He was much too satisfied. Freaking brat.

"Look at it this way. This is the first time you didn't have a heart attack when I grew back to normal size in front of you."

"No, you gave it to me when you popped out of my pocket," Harvey said. "Stop sleeping in weird places. And this is the last time you're sleeping in my pocket."

Scott flatly said, "No."

Harvey didn't know which he was saying no to, but he had the feeling it was the latter. Or both.

4. Bonsai Tree

Donna said that their house needed more greenery, so she sent Harvey out to the flower shop to buy some kind of plant. He didn't really know what to look for. He was still bad at that kind of thing.

While Harvey was roaming the flower shop, he thought of asking the cashier for some advice when he saw something odd in one of the bonsai trees.

Scott Lang was laying underneath the branches of the tree like he was actually outside. Why and how Scott could sleep anywhere was beyond Harvey. He grabbed a nearby garden spade and poked Scott's side.

"Why?!" Scott complained, turning on his side and glaring at Harvey. "I was dreaming about pirate ships and dragons!"

"If you want to nap under a tree, why don't you go outside?" Harvey asked, ignoring his whining.

"It's too hot outside right now. I figured I'd nap here for a while," Scott answered, casually. "People would've left me alone if they saw me sleeping here anyway. Unlike you!"

By this point, the cashier and customers in the flower shop were giving Harvey odd looks. Right now, it looked like he was just talking to a bonsai tree and not Scott.

"Get out, come on." Harvey offered his palm for Scott to hop on. He did so and scurried up Harvey's arm and onto his shoulder.

"Hey. Hey...LISTEN!" Scott yelled, waving his arms. "Get it? Because you said I'm like Navi?"

It took all of Harvey's willpower not to flick Scott off his shoulder. "I hate you."

"Yup!"

Harvey left the shop without any sort of plants and instead had Scott yammering his ear off.

5. Caboose

Harvey was scrolling through his phone while he waited for his coffee when he saw on the newsfeed that Ant-Man was found passed out in the back of a caboose. He didn't like the headline 'passed out' and wondered if Scott was actually injured, or if he was just napping like all the other times.

Harvey left the coffee shop and drove to the train station as fast as he could. When he got there, he wasn't surprised that there was a crowd of onlookers and some journalists. Harvey felt a sense of frustration building in his chest. Scott didn't need this kind of attention, especially if he really was injured.

He made his way to the caboose and pushed people to the side, easily ignoring complaints as he tugged them away, telling them to get away from Scott.

Harvey hopped into the caboose and walked over to where Scott lay on his side. His helmet was on, so Harvey couldn't make out any possible injuries there, but the rest of his body looked alright. It gave him some hope that Scott was okay.

"Wake up, Ant-kid," Harvey said, lightly rapping his knuckles against Scott's helmet. "Naptime's over. Wake up."

He knocked on Scott's helmet a couple more times until he finally shifted. Scott's helmet retracted. He had no injuries but he was sweating and ghost white. His eyes were glassy as he looked up at Harvey.

"Heeeey," Scott mumbled, his voice scratchy. "What's happenin'?"

"You passed out in a caboose," Harvey said, not quite sure if Scott finished a mission and got sick after. "Can you stand?"

Scott scowled at the idea but he nodded. Harvey gave him a helping hand and with some effort, they got Scott up on his feet. Harvey had to keep a hand on his shoulder to stop him from falling over.

The crowd only seemed to get bigger and Harvey was about ready to break a camera. He threatened as much when someone started snapping pictures.

Harvey said, "Get that camera out of here before I break it."

For some reason, Scott smiled.

+1. Harvey's Couch

It was a long, gloomy day. It was nonstop rain, thunder and lightning. Harvey had the house to himself tonight because Donna was back in New York to see her father. Normally, Harvey would think about a movie night with Mike, but he was too tired to deal with his Puppy Energy.

He was soaked when he got inside and just wanted a nice, hot shower. As he made his way through the house, he noticed a figure on the couch. At first he wondered if Mike somehow got here before he did as a surprise visit. He was proven wrong.

Scott Lang was curled up on the couch, head rested on one of the pillows. Harvey suspected that Scott shrunk and came in through the crack under the door or through the lock. He was in his normal clothes now, making himself at home.

This time, Harvey couldn't be bothered to wake him. Instead, he took the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Scott's body. He ruffled his hair a bit and left him sleeping in the living room.

#Harvey Specter #Suits #antvnger #Scott Lang #Ant-Man #Scott just wants to sleep #but Harvey isn't having it #lol #5 + 1 #drabble #The Lawyer and the Ant

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