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steddiealltheway · 11 months

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Gareth is sick and tired of Eddie refusing to admit that he has a crush on Steve Harrington.

At first, Gareth had just brushed it off when Eddie seemed so adamant about interrogating Steve and his involvement with his new lost sheep. He had done something similar when he meet Gareth's few middle school friends the year before. But Eddie seems to think that one meeting isn't enough and insists that's why he always needs to rush out to talk to Steve and invade his space when he picks up the kids from Hellfire.

Gareth sees right through it. Eddie had come out to him a while ago saying he was definitely some form of queer after Gareth caught him making out with a guy in the Hideout bathroom. And he was more than okay with it.

But he is not okay with the way Eddie refuses to tell him - his best friend - that he has a crush on Steve.

"Then why do you always go to Family Video during his shifts and not buy anything, huh? Plus, you know that you never call anyone 'big boy.' Yes, I heard that when you were flirting with him after our last Hellfire campaign."

Eddie just rolls his eyes and dramatically flings out his arms. "I'm making sure the kids are safe with him."

Gareth snorts in response to that bullshit, and Eddie gives him an unimpressed look.

"Well, I'm going to Family Video to get a movie for my mom, and I would appreciate-"

"Yeah, I'll give you a ride," Eddie interrupts, looking way too happy to offer.

Gareth sighs but doesn't push it. He really needs to ride, and if the only reason Eddie's offering is to give him an excuse to be there... Gareth will take it and hopefully not be expected to pitch in for gas.

A quick ride over later, Gareth is almost displeased to see Steve behind the counter, eyes lighting up when he sees Eddie. Those two are absolutely ridiculous, and if Eddie would pull his head out of his ass for once, then Gareth could finally tell him that Steve likes him too.

He lets them lean into each other and practically giggle over anything the other has to say until he finds his movie and goes to the counter. That's when he finally notices Robin Buckley there staring at the two with a mix of fondness and irritation. Gareth is sure that he has the same look on his face.

He shoots her a knowing look, and Robin's eyes widen in an expression of hopeless, those two. Gareth gestures between the two and rolls his eyes - absolutely.

Then, they both look at each other in realization. Gareth knows Robin is cool and a bit awkward from their interactions in band classes, but he didn't know that she was that cool. And that she definitely knows about whatever thing is between those two.

Robin levels him with the same look, staring him up and down before finally seeming to settle on that he's cool too and also knows. They both kind of nod at each other in agreement that certain things need to be unspoken, but they absolutely need to rant about the two idiots.

They both start talking at the same time.

"Oh my gosh, I thought it was just me-"

"You have no idea how long I've needed to talk to someo-"

They stop and laugh a bit, both looking toward the boys, but they don't even register the interaction especially since Steve is tucking a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear while Eddie stares at him with heart eyes. Love is gross.

Robin takes Gareth's tape and goes through the process of ringing him up. "It's like they both are oblivious to the other's feelings."

"They are! Eddie won't even admit his feelings to himself, and I've been pushing it," Gareth complains, pinching his nose. He thinks he might feel a tension headache starting to form from those two.

Robin thuds her fingers on the counter in thought then slides Gareth's tape back at him. "Eddie's the jealous type, right?"

Gareth nearly scoffs. Jealous can be a bit of an understatement when it comes to him. "Of course."

Robin gets a grin that kind of scares Gareth to the core. She leans over the counter and whispers, "Then, I need you to flirt with Steve."

His jaw absolutely drops. "No way. Eddie would murder me!"

"And why would he if he has no feelings for him?" Robin asks with a bit of a manic twinkle in her eye that reminds him of Eddie.

Shit, she's right. It's definitely a plan that will work and finally get Eddie to admit how he feels... but also could get Gareth killed and banned from ever talking to Eddie again.

He glances over at the two and notices the way Eddie is blushing and trying to hide behind his hair as Steve stares on proudly. Gareth sighs. "Okay, I'll confront him one more time, and if he doesn't admit it after this little show, then I'll go through with the plan."

Robin sticks her hand across the counter and Gareth shakes on it. "Eddie should come in around six tomorrow during our shift. Come back before then with your tape or something as an excuse and have at it with the dingus here. But, you'll probably only be able to chat with him because I haven't seen him flirt with someone in a while - not since your dingus showed up. That should be enough to set Eddie off though, right?"

"Absolutely."

Robin laughs and loudly says, "Pleasure doing business with you. We hope to see you back at Family Video soon."

This startles Steve and Eddie out of the trance they put each other in, and Gareth watches with full annoyance as Eddie goes all puppy dog eyes as he sadly says goodbye to Steve.

In the parking lot, Gareth says, "You absolutely-"

And Eddie is quick to interrupt him, "Don't have feelings for him!"

Oh yeah. The plan is on.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next day with only a few minutes to spare before Eddie shows up, Gareth returns with his tape and a pulse that is way too high for his own good. When Robin sees him come through the door, she tells Steve that she's taking her break and shoots Gareth a thumbs up.

God, what has he gotten himself into?

He walks up to the counter and slides the tape across. "Hey, I need to return this."

Steve smiles at him politely but frowns when it doesn't ring up.

"I think Robin didn't ring it up for me yesterday. I don't remember paying," Gareth confesses. This is probably yet another part of Robin's genius plan to force them to have a longer interaction.

Steve looks him up and down for a moment then says, "Hey, I know you. You're Gareth. Eddie talks about you all the time, but I didn't know you knew Robin."

And woah, he did not expect Steve Harrington to know a single thing about him. Honestly, he's a bit flattered and even begins to blush a bit. "Yeah, we've had a few band classes together."

"That's cool. What do you play?" Steve presses on, leaning into the counter not in the flirtatious way he does with Eddie, but Gareth thinks as a means to make him more comfortable.

"Drums in the jazz band," he readily admits.

Steve's eyebrows furrow in thought. "I didn't know Hawkins even had a jazz band. I'll have to come see you play sometime."

"Yeah?" Gareth asks in disbelief and a bit of awe. It's Steve Harrington for Christ's sake. Of course, he's going to get a bit taken aback by the fact that he wants anything to do with him. He feels that damn blush again and barely registers the bell to the door ringing behind him.

"Yeah, man," Steve says with a smile. "Sounds cool as shit."

Someone clears their throat behind them and Gareth jumps a bit. He turns quickly to find Eddie fixing him with a look of hurt mixed with rage at the sight of Gareth leaning toward Steve with a damn blush on his face. He's not into him, but he can definitely admit that Steve just has some type of pull to him. But Eddie definitely does not see it that way.

"Gareth, can I talk to you outside?"

Gareth nods and doesn't utter a sound. Oh, he's going to kill him. He's about to die. He absolutely should not have gone through with this plan.

He wanders outside toward Eddie's van and lets Eddie talk first.

"What the fuck was that in there?" Eddie asks with anger in his tone but hurt in his eyes.

Gareth just shrugs in response and waits for Eddie to finally confess that he has feelings for Steve and he needs to back off.

Only, he doesn't. He just stands there staring at Gareth, and for some reason it pisses him off so he pushes. "Just thought that if you didn't have feelings for him then I could take a shot at him."

Eddie's mouth opens and closes until he finally huffs, "Great for you. You have a better chance anyways so good luck to you."

Eddie flips him off and starts heading to the driver's side of his van, but Gareth runs and gets there first. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Eddie crosses his arms but keeps a scary tension in his shoulders. "I mean that you're not the town freak, so you can have at him!"

Gareth scoffs and digs a finger into his chest. "That's why you won't admit you have feelings for him! You don't think he likes you!"

Eddie's arms fling wide open. "Of course, he doesn't like me! But I'm not about to cry over some bullshit feelings that will never be returned, so let me just have whatever it is between me and him and not have to put this label on how it makes me feel because I don't want to fucking deal with it! Let me live in sweet ignorance!"

"And that's where you're wrong," someone who is not Gareth says.

"Christ!" both Eddie and Gareth say startling back.

Steve stands in front of them with his arms crossed, but he only stares at Eddie. "What was that about bullshit feelings? Because I don't know about you, but I definitely like you."

Eddie's face flushes a bit red as he steps closer to Steve, unable to stay out of his space whenever he's nearby. "My feelings for you aren't bullshit at all. They're just fucking scary as hell, man."

Steve laughs softly and steps into Eddie's space. "You don't think that I've been scared, too? I would've made a move on you weeks ago if you would've said something."

"Well, I'm saying something now," Eddie says with a big smile.

Gareth really doesn't think he should be witnessing this.

Steve's eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips as he huskily says, "You sure are."

Yeah, Gareth has had enough of this shit. "Hey, guys?" Gareth says, interrupting them and ignoring Eddie's hell of a death glare. "Sorry to ruin your moment, but I'm still here. Plus, you're in a public parking lot."

Eddie still glares at him, but Steve nods. "Thanks, Gareth." He turns back to Eddie. "He's right, but luckily for you, I know of this really nice breakroom that has a door that locks. Plus, I was waiting for you to come so I could take my break."

Eddie's sour look drops from his face, and he practically starts buzzing with excitement. "Let's not waste another moment then."

Gareth is truly happy for them, but he doesn't think he ever wants to hear them interact again. But on their way back, Eddie stops and says something then runs back to Gareth and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, man. Thank you for dealing with me, but if I ever see you flirt at Steve again..."

Gareth pulls away from the hug and shoves Eddie's shoulders. "I wasn't flirting! I was talking to him to make you jealous and finally admit your feelings."

"Then what the hell was that blush!"

"He's like royalty! How else am I supposed to act when I find out he knows my name!"

Eddie takes a moment to really stare at Gareth then he gets a weird smile on his face. "You know, Steve knows this guy named Will..."

Gareth shoves Eddie again to cut him off. "Have fun making out with your boyfriend."

Eddie smiles widely then turns to run back to the store. Gareth smiles and watches as the two loudly laugh when they both try to squeeze through the doorway at the same time.

Then, Gareth looks around and realizes that by having his mom drop him off that he has no ride. He sighs and heads back to the store. Maybe he and Robin can celebrate, and she can tell him more about this Will while he waits...

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #robin buckley #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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latenightdaydreams · 1 month

Note

Omg girl please do part three for the trucker!!!

Love your writing

Here it isssss!!!! Thank you!🥹

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part3 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1, Part 2, Part4, Part5

Master List

Hello again🥰 Like parts one and two, three requires a strong trigger warning. I love you all and hope you're having a good day. Stay safe and take care of yourselves🩷

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, breeding, drugging, p in v

2.3k word count

It’s been two months that you’ve been with König, 10 weeks to be exact. You’ve gotten into the routine of gas station breaks and over nights at the motel. You’ve learned to not fight him after a few bad incidents. He lets you wash yourself now, but he has to watch. He’s traded zip ties for soft handcuffs while you sleep. When you do bathroom breaks, he lets you go into the woman’s side alone, without the cuffs and during the day time. A small taste of freedom.

You sit on the bed in the back of his truck's cab, arms bound and looped through the metal on the bed so you can’t move. König stopped at a gas station to fill up. You sit and look at all of the people walking past. If only they knew you were here. If only they could help.

König buys you a honey bun, turkey sandwich, water, and a soda. He has become soft on you, in his own twisted way. He enjoys treating you, and he’s learned that you have a sweet tooth. He pays at the register and smiles at the young woman. For once he doesn’t look at someone like her in a predatory way, he has you. You fill the hunger.

König walks to the side and opens your soda. He pours two crushed up sleeping pills into the bottle, knowing that you’ll probably drink this first. He has a drop off coming up and he refuses to take any chances of you escaping.

He walks back to the truck and you perk up. He smiles down at you and holds up the bag of goodies.

“I got treats for you Maus.” König sits in the driver’s seat and takes things out of the bag before standing to take your hands away from the bar so you could eat, still handcuffed though.

“Thank you…” You say in a weak voice.

“When you’re done with that, I have a soda and honeybun for you.” He sits and begins to open his own food and eat.

You smile, food has become your only form of comfort throughout all of this. Just sweet things. It’s almost like you get to be back home for those few moments while you’re eating. The better you behave, the more treats König buys.

You both sit in silence as you eat. He hands you the soda to take drinks from. You thank him as you finish your sandwich.

“Ready for your honey bun?”

“Yes, please.” You look to his blue eyes as he smiles at your submission.

You continue to drink your soda as you eat. You zone out and look out the window, starting to feel tired. You yawn, shaking your head to try and wake yourself up. Looking back at König, you’re blinking slowly. Realizing you were drugged you begin to panic.

“Why?” Your eyelids have become insanely heavy and it’s hard to focus.

“Just for a stop, Maus. I just don’t want you to run away. You’ll be safe.” His voice was oddly soothing.

“I- I wouldn’t.” You begin to struggle to stay awake, your speech slurred and body heavy. You simply can’t fight the pills.

König approaches you and grabs the almost empty soda bottle out of your hand and the half-eaten honey bun; he wraps it up to save it for you. He gently lays you back on the bed and covers your body under the blanket. He hides your hands under so no one could possibly see that you’re handcuffed.

After his drop off, König sits in the driver’s seat using his phone; the truck is blocked off and locked for sleep. He’s moving money from his subscription page, where he has been posting your videos, to his bank account. He looks over at you occasionally, admiring how adorable you look asleep.

He is planning on taking a long break and bringing you to his house. He wants to show you your new home, your new life. Plus, he’s always wanted to settle down and have a family. You seem like you’d be a perfect mom. At the very least you’d make beautiful babies for him.

Standing, he approaches you and speaks softly, “Y/n, you awake?” He shakes your leg slightly. He’s just making sure the sleeping pills are still working.

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he drops his pants to the floor. His erection springs from his boxers. He kneels next to the bed and pulls your sweat pants down and looks at your stubbly pussy, brushing his fingers over the texture before pulling your bottoms off all the way.

Spreading your legs apart, he gently kisses down your soft thighs. Kissing over the bitemarks he left from the last time he was down here. Deciding to not record this, he wants to make it a more intimate moment. He is starting to fall in love with you, and sex isn’t just for profit anymore.

He continues to kiss your soft thighs; it’s been two days since you’ve showered so your pussy smells divine. As he gets closer, he takes deep breaths through his nose to completely breathe you in. Finally, his lips meet your sweet warmth. He kisses gently up and down before pressing his face in, burying his nose deep into your lips.

“So süß…” He mutters to himself.

He pulls back and rubs his fingers up and down your pussy, listening to the mushy wet sound. Slipping two fingers into your cunt, he moves back to your pussy and begins to lick your clit gently. He knows you’re asleep, but he still wants to pleasure you. His other hand on his cock, stroking it quickly. He’s been waiting all day to feel you.

Once your pussy becomes creamy wet, he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your natural musk all over his face. Grabbing your panties, he wipes his face off on them and keeps them in his hand. He pulls his pants off his ankles and moves on top of you. Moving your left leg with his hand to give himself space to rest his body on top of you. The space is very small for a normal sized person, for someone 6 '10, it’s almost impossible; but he finds a way.

Sliding his cock inside of you easily, he’s learned the right ways to touch your body and to make you relax enough to take him without struggle. He whimpers pathetically as he feels your wet cunt wrap around him. He rests his full weight on you and wraps one of his arms around you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and bringing his hand holding your panties up so he can continue to breathe you in.

“I’m going to cum Maus.”

As his hips begin to thrust quickly, he moans out your name. His body enveloping yours completely, moving his head from your panties to kiss your neck. Moaning into you as his pace picks up. His balls slapping against your ass hard as he squeezes you tightly in his arms. He lets out a loud moan, shoving your panties into his mouth to muffle the sound as he cums deep inside of you.

Panting hard, he continues to just rest there; not wanting to let go of you. He pulls your panties from his mouth and kisses your cheek softly. Lifting his body off of you, he pulls out, savoring the little pop sound your cunt always makes. König looks down at his cum leaking out of you and uses a finger to shove it back in. He dresses you again and then himself. Putting his phone away, he gets ready to go to sleep.

When you wake up König is already driving again. Your head feels groggy from the pills he snuck into your drink. You look out the window and have to squint because of the sun shining brightly through the windows.

Hearing you stir, König looks over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Guten Morgen, meine Liebe.”

“My head hurts,” you say in a sleepy voice that makes his heart warm. “And I have to pee.”

König chuckles and nods his head, “We will be stopping soon. You can get out and use the bathroom. We can also get you a treat, whatever you want.”

“Thank you…”

“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time we take a break from the road and I take you home.”

The thought of being taken to his home makes your stomach drop. Everyday on the road you see small chances of possibly running away, an odd sense of freedom when you go to the rest stop. What if you never leave the house again? That would be your final stop.

“And maybe it’s time we think about children, I’ve always wanted a big family.”

His voice shatters your internal thoughts as you look up at him with panic. Technically, you’ve been having unprotected sex already, but he never cums in you, so you think. The thought of having his children, let alone this mans, makes you feel terrified and sick to your very core. Death would be kinder than being his breeding slave. You don’t respond, just zoning out and it catches König’s attention.

“Something wrong Maus?”

“N-no,” you think quickly on your toes, “I guess I just never saw myself having kids.”

“No? You’d be a wonderful mother. You’d make beautiful children, especially with my sperm.”

That just grosses you out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good father.”

How can you be when you’ve kidnapped and assaulted their would be mother? You think to yourself trying to suppress the new waves of anxiety this talk is giving you. You decide to try and change topics.

“I’m sorry to be whiny, but I really have to pee.”

“Ja, ja, okay.” König drives on just a little while longer before turning off into the first rest stop he sees. He parks the semi before standing and approaching you. He grabs your shoes for you and kneels down looking at your beautiful face. His Maus.

“Remember the rules. Eyes down, don’t talk to anybody, in and out. Then we can pick out a treat and head back home.”

Home. Hell.

“I remember.” You nod your head as he helps you put your shoes on.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the key to your cuffs. He unlocks you and the scars from the zip ties are still visible. He combs your hair back with a small purple comb to make sure you look presentable. There are always odd people here, so not many questions get asked anyway.

You finally step out of the truck, König’s fingers intertwined with yours as you walk. The hot sun on your skin makes you feel so alive, like you’re real. König stands there for a while and lets you take in its warmth before he tugs your arm for you to follow him.

You both walk inside and an older woman greets you both. König responds, but you keep your head down like you were told. He walks you to the bathroom and whispers in your ears.

“Remember, in and out. Quick.”

You nod in understanding and step into the restroom. Freedom. You rush into a stall and begin to pee hard, letting out a sigh of relief as you relax your shoulders and slump forward. You linger for a while before you wipe, any little small thing that you can do to extend your time alone you do.

Stepping out to wash your hands, you hear the door open and see an old lady with a cane walk in. She smiles at you kindly and you smile back before she goes into a stall. You want to ask for help, but she’s so old you’re scared she wouldn’t understand.

You dry your hands as the bathroom door opens again and as it lingers open, you can hear so many voices talking. You wonder what’s going on as you leave the bathroom.

Opening the door, you’re surrounded by a sea of older people waiting to go in. They just got off a bus for a rest break. You look over at König and see him a little bit away from you as the rude older people push their way past him. His eyes on you like a hawk. You stand there for a while, between the door to freedom, and going back to König. You could ask for help here, but what if he really kills all these innocent people?

König is currently cut off by at least 5 people, meaning he would have to go around then to hurry to you. You saw buildings on your way here, so you could possibly just run until you reach safety. Run and lose him so you can safely call for help.

This feels like it’s been an hour of thinking when really only five seconds pass. Looking at König still, you turn and run. The fastest you’ve ever ran in your life, catching the attention of everyone, not just König.

Running out of the door and heading towards the road, you just let your fight or flight carry you away.

König’s heart sinks as he sees you do that; you’ve been so well behaved he almost can’t believe you’d do this to him. With no care, he barrels through the line of people and goes out the door after you. Everyone at the stop is confused as they watch two people run in what looks like a chase.

König’s massive body is running after you at full speed, trying to catch up to you quickly before anyone can call for help or you can reach safety.

“MAUS!” He shouts after you.

You can hear his booming voice as you run, you don’t stop. You know if you do, he will catch you. There is no telling what an angry König would do. Tears begin to stream down your face as you run, your heart beat pounding in your ears. A little voice telling you to just keep going, don’t stop.

Part 4

Tag: @nachofriess

#please read the warnings #tw: noncon #konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #könig smut #konig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader smut #konig x you #konig x reader smut

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retrobutterflies · 2 years

Text

Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n

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cranberrymoons · 6 months

Text

tis the season

prompt: platonic stobin (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 581 rated: t tags: road trip, bickering, fluff, and one (1) daddy joke 💀

welcome to Day 17 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“If you’d just –”

“I told you, I didn’t –”

“It’s not my fault you –”

“Listen, Buckley, I’m –”

“Guys,” Steve says, cutting through their bickering. His hands are tight on the steering wheel, and he can feel his shoulders bunching up around his ears, and they’ve been trapped in this car for god knows how fucking long, and he just – “Cool it.”

Robin huffs, flopping back in her seat. “Sorry, Dad.”

Eddie does too, turning around from where he’d been twisted fully in the passenger seat to argue with her about whose fault it was that they ran out of car snacks a half hour ago. (It was Steve’s actually; he finished the pretzels when no one was looking, but he’s not about to rat himself out and face down the combined force of their snack wrath.)

“I’d call you Dad too,” Eddie says. “But that usually goes the other way around for us, doesn’t it?”

Robin makes a disgusted sound, and Steve catches a glimpse of her outraged face as she surges forward to punch Eddie on the shoulder.

“Okay, just –” Steve reaches behind himself, batting at Robin halfheartedly, cheeks going warm as he glares at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. “Chill. There’s a truck stop –” He squints at an approaching sign. “A mile ahead. Just hold out for literally one minute, and then you can have all the snacks you can carry.”

Robin huffs, and Eddie grumbles under his breath, and they both lean against opposite windows like a couple of sullen teenagers, but Steve manages to get them safely off the road and to the gas station without further incident, which he counts as a win.

“We both know it was you, by the way,” Eddie tells him once they’re inside, wandering down a long aisle of chips, shoulders bumping under the glaring fluorescents of the convenience store. “Snack monster.”

Steve smiles, letting out a little laugh. He turns to Eddie, toe to toe in front of the salt and vinegar chips.

“You don’t actually know it was me,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “You can’t prove it.”

“Are you kidding? I was present at the scene of the crime.” He leans closer, and Steve sways toward him, but Eddie just grabs a bag of Doritos from the shelf behind him and retreats. He shakes them in Steve’s direction. “These are going under lock and key, by the way.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude.”

“Dude.”

Eddie’s grin flashes at him as he starts back down the aisle in the direction they came. Steve follows, and they find Robin near the register, examining a rack of Santa hats with possibly too much intensity.

“Buckley,” Eddie says. He tosses her a bag of Combos, which she catches in two fumbling hands. “Dude. What’re you doing?’

“Trying to decide which of these Christmas-themed trucker hats I’m going to buy,” she says. She plucks one off the rack and shoves it on her head, turning to face them. “Thoughts?”

It has an embroidered torso with ornaments for boobs, and it says Tits the Season in script. Steve nods very seriously, clutching a fresh bag of pretzels.

“It’s perfect for you,” he says, and he’s only joking a little bit. “Matches your eyes.”

“Good,” she says. She takes it off her head and shoves it into his chest. “You can buy it for me, since you’re the one who ate all the fucking snacks.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic #robin buckley #stobin

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hugshughes · 5 months

Text

Patience is a Virtue C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - Colston gets the trophy, and finally gets the girl.

wc - 3.8k

contains - UNEDITED! this is based off of this request! READER IS COACH MINTER(michigan defensive coordinator)'S DAUGHTER!!!!!!! kissing, hugging, fluff, cursing, stress over the game. guys if u don't like my cute outfit i picked then #1 ur a hater and #2 it's not a big deal! think of something else🤞🤞🤞 cause my Adidas navy handballs with gold accents ARE STAYING. there IS a picture of the outfit im describing but im obvi not gonna stick it in the middle of the fic so if anyone wants that i guess request or message me lols?

an - GUYS PLEASE LET THIS POST LETS PRAY TOGETHER. THIS WAS CUTE. i've been getting the BEST requests lately. i'm on my Michigan FOOTBALL grind. ive spent a long while introducing the jesse minter daughter reader.... she might have to stick around. i want to write for Blake Corum but don't know what to do because literally all i have written for the past week is like "girlfriend or friend of player reader comes to watch their playoff game, reader and love interest kiss after love interest wins game" so... DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVEEEE WRITING THAT SHIT. but it feels so repetitive. BUT THIS? I LOVED THIS. daughter of the coach is so scandalous and i love it. minter is only 40 so like we're just saying he had his daughter (reader) pretty young, like 21. hope u enjoyyyyyyyy ;)!

You woke up with a start. Your body jolted as you brain registered a shout somewhere in the room. You sucked in a breath, opening your eyes, only to close them again. You squinted, trying to orient yourself. You were in a hotel room, your brothers were the ones shouting.

You groaned at the realization, then let out a shout when you felt three small bodies land on top of you.

"Holy shit, get off of me!"

They immediately scrambled, most likely going to tell your mom you cursed in their presence. You loved your 3 baby siblings, but they were pains in your ass sometimes.

You heard a faint "she said shit mommy!" in the conjoining hotel room, and rolled your eyes. You sat in bed, stretching, grabbing your phone before grabbing your bag and locking yourself in the bathroom before your mom could scold you so your siblings shut up about it.

Today was the college football playoff championship, and it was safe to say your family members above the age of 8 were stressed. It was 8:11, and you had to be out the door by 9:50. You showered, drying your hair after and then starting to pick your outfit. You brought a lot of different gear, you had not clue what you wanted to wear to the game. You had so much Michigan gear, and even more maize and navy colored clothing, courtesy to your father.

After almost 30 minutes, you decided on a cute denim skirt, a maize long sleeve, and your navy Adidaas Handballs. You perfected your hair and makeup, successfully erasing any signs that you'd only been awake for about an hour.

You came out of the bathroom all put together, your bag and pajamas in hand. Your siblings were sitting on your bed, watching something on the TV. Since you guys had 6 people in your family, you'd gotten two hotel rooms with the connecting door in the middle. You slept in one room with your little sister on the other bed, and your parents and brothers slept in the other room. You walked through the connecting door, checking the time. 9:17.

Your mom was getting ready in the bathroom when you walked into it. You sat on the closed lid toilet and started talking to her about the plans for today.

"You really gotta stop cursing in front of the littles!"

Your mother scolded you, a grin wide on her face. She was joking, of course. You and your parents had always been close, you'd been their baby for the longest. You'd been with them since they were two just married 20 year olds in college. Not that you remembered it, but you were there for all of your dad's junior and senior year games when he played at MSJ. You'd been there through all the coaching jobs. From Cincinnati, to Georgia State, to the Baltimore Ravens, you'd been there through all of it.

You sat with your mom until it was time to go. Your dad corralled everyone together, taking a photo before you all headed to the elevator. When an elevator came, it opened up and there was barely any room unless your parents held two of your siblings, so you told them to go ahead and that you would wait for the next one.

You only waited about a minute before the doors slid open again, revealing none other than Colston Loveland. His eyes lit up, a grin shining on his beautiful face. You'd always had a weird little thing with Colston. No words were ever said about it, but there had always been a vibe between you.

Being the daughter of the defensive coordinator definitely drove a lot of the guys, even ones you had classes and other school related things with, far far away. The boys knew how protective their coach was of his family, and didn't want any bad blood on the team. Something about you just attracted Colston so heavily. He knew he shouldn't even think about it, but he never could help himself.

"Hey coach."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you stepped into the elevator. He always called you coach, he had to remind you he was one of your dad's players. You would've loved to forget that for two seconds.

"Hi Cole."

He could've died. You'd called him Cole, instead of Colston. It was the smallest, most insignificant little thing, but it made him melt.

"Where's your family at?"

You tilted your head towards him, he wanted to talk, okay. You smiled at him, he loved it.

"The other elevator was too full, some of the guys were on the way down too."

He nodded, the smirk never leaving his face. You thought about kissing it off of him, then realized you had just thought of kissing his smirk off of him. Shit. You were in deep with this kid, and there was little to no chance anything would ever happen.

The elevator reached the lobby, and Colston gestured for you to step out first. You exited the elevator, the boy hot on your tail. You were immediately greeted by a hallway packed full of Michigan players, coaches, families, and more.

You have Colston one last glance and smile before finding your mom, taking your baby brother out of her arms and into yours, playing with him. Colston's eyes followed you, he admired you as you smiled and laughed with your brother. You were perfect. He was gonna have to find a way to get around the fact that you were his coach's daughter.

You held your brother with one arm and your sisters hand with the other as you smiled at the cameras, walking through to the buses. Your family followed behind the rest of the coaches and families, the team trailing behind you.

The ride to NRG took longer than you assumed it would, almost an hour because of the traffic, and it didn't help that everyone could tell that the buses were transporting one of the CFP Championship teams in them.

Everyone went into the stadium together, through some backstage type area. You walked with the team until you had to go separate ways. You hugged your dad, squeezing him tight. You would see him again before the game, so you saved your 'Good luck, I love you Dad.' sentiment for then.

You'd always had a special connection with your dad, you were closer to him than almost anyone else. You were his baby, his first baby. Still, you were his baby in his eyes. Your dad would do anything for you, and he was quite protective. Though he was protective, all he wanted was for you to be happy, and if it meant dating one of his guys, he would have no problem with it.

Your family sat bored in the box of the stadium, looking down on the field as Washington practiced. There was over 6 more hours till the game started, and there was practically nothing to do.

You took a nap on the carpeted floor of the box with your siblings for a couple hours, your mother snapping photos that although you were embarrassed of, were undeniably cute. Once you guys had woken up, there was about 2 hours till game time. You voted with your family on whether you guys wanted to stay in the box, or sit way close to the field. You all wanted to be closer to the field, you wanted to see the action head on.

Your family departed the box, along with a few others to see the team one more time before the game. You got down onto the field in about 20 minutes, and stood with your dad for awhile. When you were being told it was time to go, you quickly hugged your dad.

"Good luck, I love you!"

He thanked you, saying the three words back as you guys waved at him, going to leave. Your eyes caught on a certain brunette as he ran off the field, his eyes finding you quickly. He smiled at you, ugh, that smile.

"Good luck, Cole!"

You smiled at him, right before you turned to go up the tunnel. More and more fans started to pour in as you got settled into your bleacher seats. You were three rows from the bottom with a perfect view of the field. You settled in as the national anthem ended and the game began.

As the game progressed, you were so happy to say that Michigan was winning, the entire time. You'd caught Colston's eyes multiple times during the game, letting it linger for a few seconds before giving him a stern look and gesturing towards the field. He'd mouth back, 'okay, coach.' and turn back around. Your mother caught the interaction once, her heart warming seeing her baby with a crush.

You stood up, your brother in your arms as you jumped up and down, shouting, Michigan had finally won! You cheered and danced around with your little siblings as you celebrated. You were all so insanely proud of your dad. Soon though, you were being escorted to the field, eager to see your father and congratulate him.

Blood was pumping and hearts were racing as you exited the tunnel, smiles burned onto your faces as you went to look for your dad. You held your sister's hand as you two ran around, trying to find him. Your mom shouted, and you turned to look at her. She pointed to your left, and there stood your dad, hugging one of his players. Your sister went back to your mom, to walk over to your dad with her as you all but sprinted over to your dad, weaving in between sweaty boys and families.

Your dad saw you incoming and held his arms out accepting your forceful hug. You both laughed, your dad squeezing you tightly. Your best friend had finally done it.

"Literally told you you would do it."

He laughed again, agreeing as he laid a kiss to your temple, pulling back with one arm to accept your other siblings into the hug, who'd finally made their way over. After a minute, you took your siblings from your dad so your mom could hug him, and kiss him, much to your brothers' disgust.

After talking with your dad for a little, you spotted a familiar 6'5 frame standing by himself as his teammates walked away from him. You sauntered over, shouting his name when you were in earshot. The brunette quickly turned around, the smile already gracing his face deepening.

"Well hi, coach."

"Congratulations, Cole. You know your catches were pretty legit."

You gave him a slightly impressed face, shrugging your shoulders. He laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You can't win 'em all over, can you?"

You laughed in turn, stepping closer to him. Colston's heart was racing as he looked down into your eyes.

"But really, Cole, you were incredible, serious."

He nodded, accepting your praise with a grin, before he looked around, over-exaggerating a look of being in thought.

"You know, coach, I think I might just deserve a reward, for my quote incredible performance."

Your eyes widened, your heart starting off, faster and faster.

"Really? What might that entail, Cole?"

Shit, he was gonna have to kiss you if you kept calling him that. He was about to take the leap. He knew he had to at some point, and he was on an adrenaline rush, that just chanted at him to do it.

"Well I think it entails you accepting a date with me back in Michigan."

Your jaw dropped slightly, you were dumbfounded. Colston really wanted to go on a date with you?

"For real?"

Colston nodded, seemingly confident, though he was shaking in his boots on the inside.

"Well then, I think we can make that work."

Colston's heart erupted. He literally could not have been happier. He'd just won the Natty, and got his dream girl to agree to a date, holy fuck. You got nervous all of the sudden, leaning up to kiss his cheek, before turning to leave.

"Just text me, Cole!"

He nodded, his eyes following you as you went to go find your family again. His family came back over to him, they'd been gone for just a second but stopped and waited when they saw him talking to you. His family, especially his mom, knew quite a bit about you.

You found your family, immediately grabbing your moms hand to pull her a few steps away. You looked at her with the biggest eyes ever, still in shock over what had just happened.

"What's up, sweetheart? Why are you all, thousand yard stare-y?"

"Mom Colston just asked me out, and I said yes! And then I kissed his cheek! And then I left!"

Your mom laughed, her baby was finally growing up. You'd had a few boyfriends in all your days, but you'd never been proper crushing like you were right now.

"That's so good! I knew this was coming, we just had to wait for one of you to get the courage."

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands. Your smile suddenly dropped, a realization coming to you.

"Is dad gonna hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

Shit.

You ended up telling your dad later on in the night, when you were tired and sitting in the back of a restaurant the team was celebrating in. Your family didn't party for too long, having a 4, 7, and 8 year old didn't exactly allow you guys to stay out for too long. Even your parents 19 year old daughter got a bit cranky if she stayed out too late.

When you told your dad, he just laughed. He knew you and Colston had things for each other, he was waiting for the tight end to make a move.

You were stressing. Tonight was your date with Colston. You sat at your vanity, ranting to your roommate over it. You put on makeup and did your hair, wanting to look cute but not over the top.

Colston had told you to wear comfy clothes, so you were in one of your most common outfits. Leggings and a Michigan sweatshirt. You stared at yourself in the mirror, doubting yourself. You had known Colston for over a year, almost two, but you didn't really know him that well. You wanted him to like you so badly.

"Babe, you look fantastic. He's going to stare at you all night."

You sighed at your roommate's encouragement. But before you could respond, you got a text from Colston. He was outside your dorm building. Your roommate pushed you straight out the door, saying bye.

You went down the stairs quickly, making your way out of the complex. You saw Colston as you opened the door, slipping out. He looked up and smiled at you, his stupid beautiful smile.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You felt the heat on your face even in the Ann Arbor cold. You smiled, shaking your head as you gave him a spin, showing off your extra casual outfit.

"Even in this ensemble?"

He nodded, his smile deepening. He pulled you into his side, hugging you. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth. You ducked your head down to hide the shock in your eyes. He smelled really good.

When you pulled away Colston led you to his car, opening the door for you before going around and getting in. You two buckled up before Colston pulled out of the parking spot, setting off into Ann Arbor. He gave you the aux, warming your heart. You both knew he probably didn't listen to the same music as you, but he wanted you to listen to whatever you liked.

Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan came on when you hit shuffle on your main playlist, making you smile. You resonated with the song, always having thought that smaller acts of love were more important than any grand gestures. You got to really look at Colston while he drove. He kept his eyes right on the road always, until you got to a red light, that's when you'd jerk your head back forward as he turned to look at you. He was really pretty, his jaw was so insanely defined, he had a strong neck, and the deepest brown eyes. You stared at the tattoo on his left forearm, he was hot, to put it simply.

You drove for around 40 minutes before the car slowed, pulling onto a gravel driveway. You looked out of your window, seeing a large screen and projector, and lots of cars. He had brought you to a drive in movie. You could've cried when you saw the sign reading the movie you would be seeing. Ocean's 11. The very first time you ever talked to Colston, he'd asked you your favorite movie. You said you couldn't pick one, then settled on Ocean's 11 because it was one you'd seen so many times you could quote any scene.

You couldn't believe he remembered. You'd never mentioned it since then. That was the kind of smaller, seemingly insignificant thing that meant the world to you. You jerked your head to the left, staring at Colston with wide eyes. He was dealing with the tickets for a few seconds before you pulled into a spot, then he finally looked to you.

"Cole, I cannot believe that you remembered."

Colston smiled, and on the inside he was celebrating that you loved it. What he hadn't expected though was you leaning over the console and hugging him. It was honestly the sweetest thing any guy had ever done for you, you were beyond grateful for this boy, and it was your first date.

"This is the sweetest thing a guy's ever done for me, I'm being serious."

Though you were mostly saying that about the fact that he'd remembered, the date itself was also amazing. Colston knew you enough to know that you'd have preferred this over any fancy restaurant, and that meant a lot.

"It's the least I could do, coach. You mean something to me, 'm gonna take care of you."

You just squirmed in your seat, getting more comfortable and smiling as you looked ahead of you. You wordlessly reached over and slipped your hand into his, pulling them into your lap.

Colston was so happy he could've gotten out of the car and started dancing. He acted as cool as he could on the outside. You two settled in as the movie began.

At some point, Colston had reached back into the backseat and grabbed a blanket that he tossed into your lap, and a bag of food and snacks.

You traced your free hand over Colston's tattoo, admiring the line work and shading. The movie ended, and Colston's hand stayed with you as you two began the drive back. You fell asleep on the drive, your head leaning against Colston's arm.

You woke up slowly about 5 minutes out from school. You kept your head on Colston's arm, but allowed yourself to carelessly stare at him in your tired state. At a stoplight, he turned to look at you, smiling deeply when his eyes met your sleepy ones.

"Hey, coach. Nap good?"

You smiled and nodded, yawning at him. He laughed lowly, turning his head back when the light went green. You parked outside your building, dampening your heart. The night had been perfect. You sleepily got out of Colston's car, after he told you to not dare opening your own door. He walked you up to the entrance with his hand on your back, rubbing his fingers back and forth lightly.

When you got to the door you stopped and turned around, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Thank you so much Colston. This was like, the best date I think ever."

He smiled, hugging you tightly. Colston had the best time, obviously you were gorgeous, but getting to talk to you one-on-one without interruptions was his idea of a good time. His insides melted whenever you fell asleep, and before then, he could've swore he was in love while you traced over his tattoo.

You pulled away from him, looking at the boy through heavy eyes. He looked absolutely handsome in the dim lighting of a street lamp. You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning up and kissing him. You probably wouldn't have if your drowzy mind hadn't commanded you to. Obviously you wanted to, but you weren't sure if it was 100% mutual yet, but it was.

Colston's hands went to hold the back of your head, his hands in your hair. He kept the kiss shorter than you would've liked, knowing you were tired.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, a smiling fighting its way onto you face. Colston's hands shifted from your hair to your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow baby."

Your blown out eyes widened at the name, your heart clenching in your chest. Colston saw the reaction, his lips quirking up the slightest bit.

"I'll see you, Loveland."

You let go of him, turning towards the door. You paused for a second, quickly turning back around and kissing Colston again. Colston's hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you closer. Colston smiled brightly into the kiss, giggling to himself.

You pulled away from him, a grin falling to your face.

"You ever gonna let me leave, coach?"

"Thinkin' about it."

"You get inside, gorgeous. It's too cold for you to be out here."

You smiled, nodding at him, letting go of him for the last time.

"You gotta go too, off season just started. You gotta stay on your A-Game Loveland."

He laughed at you, shaking his head as he watched you walk into the dorm complex, turning the corner and out of his sight. You ran back up the stairs and to your room, squealing like a 13 year old as you described your date to your roommate.

Colston sat in his car, texting his mom that everything went well. When he put his phone away, he finally let himself think that you were the girl he'd want to be with forever. It was finally real. The boy just had to be patient.

246 notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 1 year

Text

what used to be mine |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: gina finds out that you and eddie got married.

age gap relationship. everything is consensual. set a few years after the initial series so the reader is 29 and Eddie is 45.

gina is eddie’s ex. brielle is his daughter with gina.

contains: older!eddie, dilf!eddie, language, gina, jealousy

Gina sat on the couch, coffee steaming on the table beside her, phone held lazily in her hand as she scrolled mindlessly through her phone. She could hear her mother's voice nagging her in the back of her mind, telling her she was so obsessed with other people'd lives, and maybe that's why she was so bored in her own. But Gina didn't care. She had to look, to be in the know.

Everything was typical, scrolling bored past the birthday posts, memes, and other updates about people she didn’t give two shits about on Facebook.

Then Gina saw it.

She stopped, eyes widening in disbelief.

Brielle Jo Munson was tagged in a photo!

Some person Gina didn’t recognize- someone who didn’t have her blocked like most of Eddie’s friends did- shared a string of photos, the caption reading.

‘Congrats to Mr. and Mrs. Munson! Wishing you both a lifetime of joy and happiness!’

There were the photos, Eddie and her walking down the aisle, some trendy, aesthetic venue. Her dress was stunning, and fit her like a glove. Gina gaped, scrolling, seeing Brielle in her bridesmaids dress, walking beside them, posing in photos with guest. Even having a dance with Eddie.

But none of that compared to the unexplainable rage that Gina felt when she saw the last picture. Eddie and her, he had her dipped down, a classic pose for a kiss, others waving sparklers for a photo op. Gina zoomed in, a stranger gasp leaving her lungs, heart rate rising, hammering in her chest.

The ring.

When Gina and Eddie had gotten married, he’d saved up and gone to a pawn shop, getting the best ring he could buy. A tiny diamond that she snarled at when he presented it to her- he’d worked countless hours overtime, even going back to giving guitar lessons and a night shift as a janitor at the plant to afford it. He’d promised her it was just until he could get a better one. They didn’t make it long enough for that to happen.

Though they weren’t together long, they were together long enough that Gina knew how close Eddie was to his mom before she passed. She’d seen the pictures at Wayne’s, and the one's Eddie kept in his wallet. She'd heard the stories, bittersweet and endearing. They'd even made Brielle's middle name Jo, in memory of departed and beloved Josephine.

Most importantly, she’d seen the ring- the ring he didn’t give her. His mother’s wedding ring, diamond cut and small. It was her mother’s before her, and her grandmother before that. Passed down to Eddie, a little under a carat, and on a dainty gold band. It was special. Eddie guarded it and protected it like Gollum, refusing to even take it out of the safe at Wayne’s except to show her once.

And there it was. On her finger.

Gina didn’t even register what she was doing until Henry came running in, frightened and concerned.

Gina screamed, hurt and angry, her chest heaving and cries spilling out with rage. She’d thrown her phone, leaving a dent in the wall where it landed. Pulling at her hair, she saw red, her vision blurring and dark.

Henry’s voice sounded distant, he was terrified. “Gina, honey, what-“

Gina rocked herself, deep heavy breaths that only fueled her rage, gas to a fire.

How could her have given her the ring? The ring that was hers! She had his child, and- Oh, that child- their child. Brielle. How could her daughter, her own fuckin’ flesh and blood, do this to her? Let her be blindsided like this! She could’ve talked to him! Convinced Eddie not to do it, she could convince him of anything. He didn’t love her. No, he couldn’t.

He loved Gina, Gina was sure of it.

Well, until those pictures. The love in his eyes, on everyone’s face. The fact that Eddie even had a wedding that big.

He never wanted that with Gina.

They’d had a shambled, put together wedding at the Hideout- the fuckin’ Hideout. Gina's parents hadn’t even showed up, and Jeff and Gareth were telling Eddie not to go through with it moments before she walked down the aisle. Brielle was in a carrier next to Wayne, and Gina had to leave to pump after the ceremony.

No one looked at them like that. Congratulated them, celebrated them.

Gina felt surges of jealousy, hurt, anger tear through her. She pushed past Henry and his rambling, scrambling to find her phone.

She picked it up, ignoring the crack down the middle from where she’d thrown it, clicking Brielle’s name.

The line rang, and rang, and rang.

“Hi, this is Brielle. I can’t get to my phone right now, but-“

Gina growled, huffing angrily as she hung up. Of course Brielle didn't answer. She hadn't in nearly two weeks. Gina twisted her lips furiously, pacing back and forth in the living room. She clicked on Eddie’s name, gripping the phone in a white-knuckled vice.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Yes, Gina?” Eddie sounded tired, annoyed already.

Gina laughed humorlessly. “You stupid, stupid fucker!” She roared.

Eddie winced, pulling the phone back. The two of you were packing for your honeymoon. You looked up, brows furrowed in confusion.

“How dare you? How fuckin’ dare you?” Gina boomed.

“Gina-“

“You get married, and you don’t tell me?” Gina screamed so loudly, static filled on the other end.

“It’s really not your business.” Eddie snapped. “You didn’t tell me when you and Henry-“

“Oh, don’t you dare.” Gina seethed. “Brielle told you, you sick fucker! Where is my baby, huh? What did you do to her?”

Eddie blinked, confused. “What?” He asked. “Gina, what are you talkin’ about?”

Gina scoffed. “My daughter! My daughter, not your child bride’s!” She screeched. An unfair low blow, sure, but she wanted to hurt him. Have him hurting like she was.

“My Brielle didn’t tell me shit! She didn’t tell me she was in town, or-or that you two were getting married! I found out on Facebook, Eddie!” Gina roared, but her heart ached. “Brielle hasn’t called me in two weeks! Two!”

Eddie’s face fell, running a hand over his scruff. He knew Brielle was distancing herself from Gina, he didn’t blame her. She had been too toxic for too long, but it still didn’t make his heart hurt any less at the ache in her voice. He didn’t want her to hurt like that, not with Brielle. Maybe if he was crueler, more like Gina, he would say it was her own fault, but he couldn’t.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to her, or-or what your little Lolita fuckin’ wife has done to brainwash her, but you’ve crossed a line, Edward!” Gina heaved. “That is my baby! My daughter, and you’ve taken her from me! What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, Gina, Jesus!” Eddie screamed back, throwing his hands out.

You looked at him pleadingly. Eddie’s jaw was tight. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she didn’t tell you because she knew you’d react like this?” Eddie snapped.

Gina faltered. Eddie never spoke to her like that. “Brielle is a grownup now, Gina. She can make her own choices. Neither one of us told her not to tell you. She made that call.” Eddie continued.

Gina felt her breath catch, heart hammering. She wouldn’t let him catch her vulnerable, hurt. “She’s not talking to me, Eddie, and that’s happening for a reason.” Gina snapped. “Is your new wife trying to replace me as her mother? You can tell that bitch she’s got another thing coming-“

“Hey,” Eddie barked. “I’m not doing this with you. You’re not going to talk about her like that, you got it?”

Your heart swelled slightly at his fierceness, protectiveness. Primal and strong, it made your legs clamp.

“You wanna know why Brie didn’t tell you? Ask Brielle. I don’t control what she does.” Eddie snapped.

Gina tilted her head back, keeping the tears that were threatening to fall. She clenched her jaw, breathing in deeply through her nose. “I told you,” she hissed, jaw still clamped shut to contain her emotions. “She’s- She’s not talking to me.”

Eddie fist loosened, looking at you. Your face shifted sympathetically, moving closer to hear the conversation better.

“Can you just tell me if she’s there?” Gina snapped, but even for her it was desperate, pitiful.

Eddie hesitated. “She’ll be in town for a while.” He said reluctantly. “Her and Madeline are house sitting for us while we’re gone.”

Gina felt her heart squeeze, ache. The honeymoon, it was the unspoken word. She never got a honeymoon with Eddie. Steve and Nancy had agreed to watch Brielle for the night so Eddie and Gina could have a night to themselves. That night was by far the best part of the entire wedding.

Gina took a deep breath in, pinching her eyes shut. “Could you-“ she stopped herself, fist clenching. She was embarrassed, begging Eddie like this to have him talk to her daughter. Having him hold control like this made her sick.

“Could you tell her to call me, please?” Gina asked, covering her mouth with her hand. “I-I won’t… Just tell her I want to catch up. I miss her.”

Your heart dropped, looking down the hall where Brielle sat, happy and contently catching up with your little sister. You didn’t blame her for wanting space, in some ways it was the best thing she could’ve done, but your heart still ached for Gina.

Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her, Gina.” He said softly. “But I can’t promise anything. She’s not little anymore.”

“I know that, Edward.” Gina’s biting tone had returned, making you roll your eyes. There was a pause. “Fuck, just-just tell her to call me. I won’t…” Gina didn’t finish her sentence, but you all knew what she was going to say.

“Fine.” Eddie said. “I’ll tell her. Anything else?”

Gina scoffed, hanging up the phone. The line beeped and went dead, Eddie looking at you with wide eyes, exasperated and drained. Gina had that effect on people.

“Well,” You chirped. “That went better than I thought it would.”

Eddie chuckled, collapsing on the bed. “Yeah,” he nodded. He looked out towards Brielle, then back at you hesitantly. “She’s real upset about it all, but…” he took a deep breath. “I know she’s most hurt about Brielle.”

You ran a hand down his shoulders, squeezing them softly, your wedding bands glimmering in the light of the room. You pressed a kiss by your thumb, nuzzling into his back.

“I know.” You hummed. “That’s her daughter. I’m not saying Brie is wrong, but… I get it. Maybe she needs to be a little hurt to get better. Repair their relationship.”

Eddie nodded. “You don’t think I-“

“Eddie, don’t you even start.” You snapped sternly, pointing a finger at him. “I’ve watched for years as Gina was so horrible to me, and you, and everyone else we cared about- everyone Brielle cares about too.” You gave him a knowing look. “There’s only so much you can deal with before you don’t want to anymore.”

Eddie sighed slowly. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“You don’t know what happened when we weren’t around either. What Gina said to Brielle. Remember when she was so horrible to me when we first started dating? Because she didn’t want to upset Gina.”

Eddie nodded. “You're right.” He said slowly. “I’m not going to force Brielle, but… I’ll tell her Gina misses her.” He looked at you as if for your approval. “She asked me to, and I think that’s fair.”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. “I think you should.” You whispered, your nose on his. “Then no more Gina talk. Get it out of your system now, because if I hear her name when we’re in Aruba, I’ll throw you in with the sharks.” You grinned.

Eddie smirked, hands gripping your waist and pinning you on the bed. “Oh, will you, Mrs. Munson?” He teased, tickling your sides. “Think you’re gonna get my retirement that easily, huh? My life insurance? I think you’ll be a little disappointed, bunny.”

You giggled, squirming out of his touch. “Stop!” You laughed, head tipping back in laughter. “Mercy! Mercy!”

Eddie grinned, his lips on yours, deep and passionate. Hands finding each other, gripping and squeezing, clinging to each other.

“Oh, God, not this again.” Brielle groaned.

“Ew!” Madeline retched dramatically. “Shut the door you freaks!”

You laughed, Eddie’s nose resting on yours. “Yeah, did you not learn the first time?” Brielle snapped teasingly. “I’m still traumatized.”

Eddie scoffed, leaning up. “You learned to knock before coming in, didn’t you?” He asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes.

Eddie looked over at you, pleadingly and you took the hint. “Hey, Maddy, can you help me pack a few things?” You asked, getting your sister away from Brielle so she and Eddie could talk in private.

Eddie shot you a thankful smile, arms wrapping around Brielle’s shoulder as they went into the living room. You rolled your clothes, chatting excitedly with your little sister about your trip. You wondered if Gina and Brielle would talk.

Gina was at home, Henry anxiously handing her Xanax and trying to pry her phone away from her clutches, terrified of the wrecked woman in front of him. Gina started blankly ahead, her own wedding with Eddie playing in her mind.

Her mind kept flashing back to the ring. The smiles. Every photo she’d seen of the two of you.

Gina grit her teeth, fist balling. She was angry, hurt. Not just because Brielle hadn’t told her she was in town, but because it was official for the first time in her delusional mind.Eddie wasn’t hers anymore. He was yours.

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whump-imagines · 4 months

Text

Ice

Will & reader (could be platonic or early relationship.)

900 words

For anyone else who was missing a certain red head on Wednesday...

You felt like Bambi trying to make your way across the parking lot toward the hospital. Between sleeping through your alarm and the icy road conditions you were running very late for your shift. In your haste to get out of the house, you’d thrown on your regular shoes rather than your boots.

About halfway to the door your tractionless shoes slipped and you took a full cartoon style fall– both feet up in the air to land hard on your back. The hit knocked the wind from your lungs and it took a moment to suck in a breath.

Seconds later, the pain registered. Your back and head hurt. Before you could even think of what you should be doing next, Will was kneeling beside you.

“Don’t move,” he said. He started to run his fingers down either side of your neck in search of any abnormalities. “You hit your head pretty good. Does it hurt?”

You coughed, your lungs still trying to function properly. “Uh, yeah. My back too, kinda like up between my shoulders.”

“Okay, can you squeeze my fingers?” He placed two fingers against both your palms and you did as he'd asked. “Good, and push against my hands like you're pushing the gas pedal.” Again, you did as asked.

“Fuckin’ ice,” you muttered quietly.

“Okay. Do you think you can sit up?” Will asked.

You took another deep breath. “Yeah.” He offered his hand and very slowly pulled you into a seated position. You closed your eyes tightly as dizziness set in. “Woah.”

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You peeled your eyes open, locking into his concerned ones. “Just dizzy. Really dizzy.”

“You probably have a concussion,” Will suggested.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Yeah, well, won't matter if I freeze to death out here.”

Will chuckled. “We are going to move slowly. I don't need you passing out because you stood up too quickly.” He shifted so he could stand to help you up. “Ready?”

“Yup.” You winced as you straightened up, pain flaring through your back. You took half a step to get closer to Will and your feet slipped slightly. You gripped onto his arm so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Okay, you're okay. I got ya.” He started to walk slowly and carefully towards the doors.

Once you made it to dry flooring, you sighed in relief. Will kept your hand wrapped around his arm as he headed towards the nurses station.

“Hey, Mags,” he greeted. “What's open? She took a hard fall outside.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She rubbed your shoulder gently. “Take treatment one.”

“Thanks,” said Will. “Can I get thoracic and cervical spine x-rays and a head CT?”

“And something for the pain? Please?” You asked.

“Let's get 50 micrograms of fentanyl, too,” Will added. “Oh, and a warm blanket.”

“You got it,” Maggie noted all the requests in the tablet she was holding. “Any blood work?”

“No, just the scans for now.”

About an hour later, you had finished all the scans and were trying your best not to doze off under your second warm blanket. April had brought a new one when she'd come to check your vitals.

Will came in with the tablet in his hands. “How're you feeling? In too much pain?”

You gave him a thumbs up. “I'm possibly too comfy. I'm fighting the nap hard.”

“Good news then. You can nap shortly,” he said.

“Yay!” You said lazily.

“You do have a mild concussion,” he explained. “As well as two bruised ribs. So you're stuck here for observation until at least tomorrow but you can sleep if you want.”

“Well that's gonna hurt tomorrow. Awesome,” you added sarcastically.

Will squeezed your hand gently. “At least nothing is broken. Get some rest, alright?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, already giving into the pull of sleep.

You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke up. It seemed a safe guess that the pain was what had roused you. It felt like someone was digging a knife into your shoulder blade and breathing made it even worse.

You groped around the bed for the call button as tears welled in your eyes. A moment later, you found it and proceeded to push it several times. April pushed the curtain back soon after.

“You're awake,” she stated.

A tear rolled down your cheek. “It hurts. It hurts a lot. I feel like I can't even breathe.”

She quickly moved closer and took your hand. “Just squeeze as hard as you need to. Take slow breaths.” Within a few minutes she had calmed you down quite a bit. “I'm gonna go find someone to get you something for the pain. I'll be right back.”

She leaned out the door and you heard her tell someone that you needed something for pain. Will came in a second later and gave April a dosage for morphine.

“That should help,” he started. “I'll make sure to get you a prescription before we send you home too. Sound good?”

“Thanks, Will,” you said. He took your hand. “What would I do without you?”

He laughed. “Probably would have just frozen to death in the parking lot. So my shift is over soon and you're getting moved upstairs. What do you say to some pizza and a movie?”

“Ooh, yes. Please! Hamburger, bacon and extra cheese for me.”

“Okay. I'll see you upstairs in an hour or so.”

#will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #chicago med fanfiction #one chicago fic

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unicorncornflakes · 9 months

Text

Family Sins - One Shot || Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: Every Thursday afternoon you and Aemond meet, even if you have to pay for his family's sins.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Emotional Hurt/Angst/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: I am just sad. This is the best I can write these days.

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 4.2 K

You were soaked to the skin. All your clothes were loose. But, you were still pretty. It was all Aemond could think when he saw you walking through the aisles of that roadside gas station. He followed you with his eye while you consulted the prices of a small cocoa bun. Your black sweatshirt was soaked all over while your damp hair was tied up in a ragged bun. Your black-painted nails grazed some of the price signs as you put the small dessert back in its place and grabbed a cheaper one. You smiled at him as he followed you closely and he picked up the same product that you had left in its place. You didn't talk, Aemond wasn't given to too many words and you were tired from the rain. But, storms always made you happy. It was something Aemond could never understand, but he shared with you.

Outside, at that small gas station in the middle of the forest, it was still raining. Only Aemond's gray Mercedes and the old bicycle that your mother had given you two birthdays ago were parked at the door. You always pedaled five kilometers to meet Aemond. Every Thursday afternoon. He came directly from the city and was waiting for you, drinking a coffee that he always considered awful while you arrived. He always thought he could go find you. Pick you up at the door of your house and take you to a better place. But, that would have been giving you greater importance than you really should have for him. Although, you had driven him crazy. That was all he could think every time he saw you arrive at that place on your bicycle. In summer you always arrived with your short shorts, in winter with your military boots.

On that rainy autumn afternoon, you arrived with that huge black sweatshirt that must have been borrowed, courtesy of your older brother, surely. Or that was what Aemond thought as he followed you through that small commissary that the gas station had. The idea that that sweatshirt belonged to a man other than your brother drove him crazy, so he preferred to think that it belonged to your brother. It made things easier for him. You looked at a series of cookies one last time and left them in their place.

Aemond continued to follow you at a safe distance. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye while you laughed. The two of them alone in that place. Thus, things seemed easier than they really were. Everything was simpler when you were alone.

You walked up to the register and opened the small cloth bag hanging from your back. You took out that cat-shaped purse that Aemond had bought you at a market in Flea Bottom. Also soaked, you opened it, careful not to break it while you counted the coins that that strawberry bun that you had left on the counter cost. Right behind you, Aemond also placed the cocoa puff you had chosen earlier and took the elegant black leather wallet out of his pants. Unlike you, he wasn't wet. His hair was immaculate and his clothes looked as always, well ironed and freshly washed. That black turtleneck sweater he was wearing that day, you knew, cost the same as what it took to eat at home for a whole week.

“Give me a pack of Lucky Strike too,” he said diligently as the cashier looked you up and down. Aemond also dropped a package of condoms on the counter and you blushed while he simply prepared to pay with his credit card. Two small buns. A pack of tobacco. A package of condoms…

Rob, the cashier, looked over his shoulder at you as he charged Aemond for that purchase. He was your neighbor and you were sure that he knew what you and Aemond were going to do that rainy afternoon. You left the store with the strawberry muffin even before Aemond finished paying, although it was clear that you preferred the chocolate one.

He looked at you through the huge glass doors of that gas station and wondered if it wasn't better to give you the treatment you deserved. However, he simply took the condoms and tobacco in one hand, that chocolate bun in the other and went outside. The water continued to fall hard and you were leaning against the door frame. It fell so hard from the ledge that it soaked your torn canvas sneakers, even though the rest of your body was trying to regain heat. Aemond gave you the cocoa puff and you reluctantly took it. You knew what awaited you at home that night because of that simple gesture that was intended to be kind on Aemond's part.

“I could have bought it,” you said without much encouragement, taking down your backpack from your back and putting the condoms and both buns in it. You looked at Aemond, who remained stoic and unfazed as always.

“You would have bought the strawberry one because it's the only thing you can afford and because you need to eat something,” he responded, shrugging his shoulders and opening the packet of tobacco. “This way you will eat something you like,” he said out loud, making the difference between him and you evident: he always paid with a credit card, it seemed like his money was created out of nowhere. You always carried coins in your bag and you never bought what you wanted because you simply didn't have the money for it.

“I guess,” you answered, not daring to look at him. Aemond approached you and finally kissed you. All of his slim, slender body against yours. The height difference was considerable. He just grabbed your face in his hands, his lips making contact with yours in a sweet and passionate way. You held his wrists, as if you always needed an anchor to the ground every time he kissed you. That kiss, surrounded by the storm, was observed under the disapproving gaze of that gas station cashier in the middle of nowhere. The rain threatened to soak you, but you didn't care.

As always, in the middle of all your kisses, Aemond opened his only eye, almost wanting to check that you were real, and not a simple fantasy of his imagination. He always slowly closed his eye again as your lips continued to crash against each other.

At the end of that silent kiss, Aemond took your hand, without looking back, and opened the passenger door for you in the rain. You quickly got into the car and Aemond ran to the driver's seat in the rain. You saw how his hair had now become wavy and he gave a half smile when he saw how you smiled silently, tiredly resting your head on the seat. “I could take the bike and put it in the trunk. Take you home after the motel,” he confessed, not daring to look at you. At that moment, he wanted to go further with you, beyond what he wanted to admit.

"No, do not worry. Then just leave me here and go. I’ll go home from here on the bike,” you told him, not daring to look at him either. You grabbed one of the wet, unruly strands covering your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I don't want my parents to know where I've been this afternoon,” you confessed dejectedly. You knew they would find out before nightfall, just when Rob walked through the door of your father's bar, the nerve center of the town where you lived.

“As you wish,” Aemond responded as the engine roared just started. He turned on his car radio. It only played classical music and you wondered as always if Aemond listened to anything else or the high cultural esteem in which you knew he was held prevented him from doing so. “I bought you other sneakers,” he whispered while keeping his eyes on the road. The windshield wipers of his car moving frantically in the face of such an amount of water.

“It wasn't necessary,” you responded, biting your inner cheek. You hated that he did that. You hated that he bought you everything you needed. You knew he did it for a simple reason: to hold your meetings every Thursday afternoon. As if you were a prostitute, Aemond bought everything he thought or felt you needed. It was his way of keeping you by his side. The only language of love that seemed to know how to offer, understand… “My sneakers are fine,” you said, looking at them. Destroyed and torn. That was all they were.

“They were just on sale,” he responded, putting the issue to rest. His voice always seemed to be devoid of all emotion. Sometimes you wondered if Aemond knew how to feel anything other than indifference or anger, but you knew he did. Every Thursday afternoon he demonstrated it to you. Always in the solitude of that motel room that he reserved for a few simple hours. The radio interrupted the broadcast to talk again about another urgent environmental disaster and Aemond turned it off.

Both you and he knew it was what was going to be talked about. You could see him tense up as he drove. And you directed your body towards his, releasing the seat belt. You bit your lip hesitantly as you brought his body closer to his, one of your hands gripping his seat. The other traveled to Aemond's fly.

“Hmm” was all you heard him say as your hand slowly lowered the zipper. The metallic sound of each and every one of the teeth that made it up exploded against your ears, just like the sound of the rain in the now silent interior of that high-end car. You unbuckled his belt and your hand quickly found his cock in his pants, hard and warm, soft and firm. You bit your lip seductively as you took her out of those extremely expensive underwear. “I don't want to have to give explanations at a police checkpoint like last time,” he answered, without taking his eyes off the road. Grabbing your hand with his as the other grabbed the steering wheel. “Don't be mean to me, (Y/N),” he asked you under his breath.

“I just wanted you to relax,” you whispered sensually and he smiled again without looking at you, although you never knew if when Aemond smiled he was truly happy. You returned to your seat and watched as he quickly buttoned his pants again. “If you don't like it…” you purred and he interrupted you.

“Hmm, I didn't say that,” he repeated again, remembering the fine he had had to pay and how your cheeks had blushed the most while that police officer asked you what your relationship was and forced you to take out your ID card to verify that You were actually nineteen years old and no less. Aemond was six years older than you at the time, but he had always looked older than he really was. He remembered telling the police officer that you were a couple and how you had looked at the ground in regret as those words came out of his mouth. The following Thursday you had not shown up, nor the next one. Three weeks later you came back with a very bad-looking bump between your ribs that you promised was the result of a bad fall on the bike. He knew you had lied, but stating it out loud would have meant never seeing you again.

You finally arrived at that roadside motel and Aemond left you in the car while he went to the reception to get the keys to room thirteen, the one he reserved every Thursday. You received a message from your mother asking if you needed her to pick you up after your study hours at the library. You answered no because you were carrying the bike. You lied to her again. You turned off the phone and closed your eyes. You could understand why your parents didn't want you to see Aemond, but it really wasn't his fault…

He woke you from your thoughts as he opened the car door. You walked out next to him and he held your hand again. You ran through the rain until you reached the second floor of the motel. He clumsily opened the door and you both walked in laughing and soaked. Aemond kissed you again, closing the bedroom door behind you. Holding your face again, with no escape. Your bodies swayed together in that room that had witnessed your meetings for the last two years.

You could hear him gasp as he kissed you. You broke away from his grasp and took off your soaked sweatshirt, which fell heavy to the floor. You also took off your wet shorts and were left in your underwear. Cold and shivering, Aemond covered you with his body, though he was almost as wet as you. You took off his eye patch and he laid you on the bed.

He smiled bright and powerful, like you knew he really felt about almost everyone. He was a Targaryen. He took off his turtleneck and you could see the symbol that already named him as such. The tattoo was fresh on his skin. A green and black dragon on his shoulder. Detailed to excess and you knew it named him as someone important within the family and business, criminal and legal structure. You didn't dare ask, even though he knew you knew the meaning. Your sister had explained it to you when Aegon received his. Years ago, you had both been naïve enough to think that type of tattoo was exciting and powerful. Your sister had been a fool. You weren't on a different path.

Aemond's arms supported his entire weight as he lunged at you to kiss you. His pants though on but his belt undone. He had never been a subtle boy. He smiled at you proudly and cockily, he almost seemed to know what you were thinking. He was dying to tell you that just two days ago he had given him the tattoo, that he had stood stoically and without any emotion while it was done, but his heart had been beating strongly, as if this were finally the moment of approval that he had been waiting for all his life.

He kiss you. His lips met with strength and need. They eagerly bumped into yours. A watery sound. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine, like every time he kissed you. You knew there wouldn't be much more foreplay.

He stayed silent over you. His single eye scrutinized you while the prosthesis remained immovable in that empty eye socket. He had never told you what had happened to him. He would never do it. You had heard rumors, but... His eye continued to look at you in silence. You looked beautiful with your hair wet, all spread out against the pillow, your eyes locked on his, a half smile on your lips.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip gently. Comfortable silence reigned in that cheap motel room. The gray walls. The simple sheets. That sad blind half lowered. The complete scene of your meetings every Thursday afternoon. “I love you,” Aemond confessed in a whisper. Your eyes appeared to offer a small surprise upon hearing him. He felt your entire body stiffen under him. It was the riskiest confession he could make to you. However, he was happy. At that moment, he was happy after a long time. “I love you” he repeated again with more force, as if he wanted to reaffirm his words.

His lips found yours again and you relaxed at the attention. You were in big trouble if Aemond confessed something like that, but it was really what you wanted him to do. Confess that way, with you, and only you. He lightly bit your lower lip with a smile, trying to relax you. Your hands ran up his arms as you kissed. The hand traveling on his right shoulder tried to avoid the dragon tattoo. Aemond was beginning to follow in his older brother's footsteps... You thought, you always thought that he was not that kind of man... but, he craved power like everyone else, right?

Aemond's always skillful fingers undid your panties, removing them heavy from not only the humidity of the rain that had soaked everything. You were too. Your core throbbing and waiting for a simple contact with him. An arrogant smile appeared on his lips when he saw the small soaked grotto, as if his mere presence already activated all the keys you needed. You smiled shyly at him and he kissed you again.

Your bodies merged in an embrace that promised to be eternal. You felt Aemond's cock hard, eager for what he always got when he was with you. The bright red tip protruded through the elastic of his boxers and you licked your lips in a reflex and subconscious act that Aemond was always grateful for. Seeing your wet lips and bright eyes, he could only think that you were perfect, terribly perfect.

“I'm going to get the condoms,” you whispered, a feeling of regret running through your head, as if those words had ruined everything. The atmosphere that had existed until that moment seemed to have almost disappeared and you felt his grip loosen.

“Sure” It was all he said as he stood up and took off his pants and boxers. He didn't dare look at you because he thought that afternoon was finally the moment you would leave him... bareback. He had confessed. He had done it... and you had been taking contraceptives for a year, he had no more sexual encounters than the ones he had with you... he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, crouched down rummaging through your bag, looking for the packcage that he had bought himself. You had never talked about it, but… “I'm not my brother, you know?” He whispered, looking back ahead, not daring to look at you. “If something happened, I would…”

You interrupted him by returning to bed with a condom and leaving it between the sheets while you lay on your side and he turned to look at you. “You know we can't take risk,” you told him as he went back to the bed and grabbed the wrapper. You didn't point anything out but it always made you nervous that he would tear it with his teeth. He put it on silently and positioned himself between your legs. He looked into your eyes and, for the first time, you saw an authoritative gleam behind them, almost as if that damn tattoo had changed him.

“I'm not my brother,” he repeated again under his breath. He entered you forcefully, without breaking eye contact. Your legs surrounded your hips and you moaned at that impact with such violence that it caused his testicles to collide against the slit of your pussy. You closed your eyes and didn't say anything. The sins of his family would always be present among you.

“I'm just saying that family is destroying the town.” Old Tom was sitting at the bar while your father cleaned it. It was late, but he kept moving that old rag against the bar. His eyes filled with worry as he waited for you. He knew where you had been. He knew what you had done. He had always thought of you as a smarter girl than your sister, but it was clear that you were not.

“Once again they have polluted the river with waste from the plant,” said Clark. His mug of beer met his lips. Your father knew where you had been, Rob had told him before he went home. His face had turned gloomy just then. “Those damned Targaryens…”

Just then, all the voices fell silent in the town bar. You had just walked through the door, soaked to the skin. You had pedaled there from the gas station in the rain, even though Aemond had insisted on giving you a ride home. You couldn't let your father see you with him, although when his accusatory eyes fell on you, you knew he knew. Everyone tried to return to their previous conversation as your steps led you to the bar. There a boy with white hair painted in silence. You sat next to him and saw your sister's son painting a green dragon. You were surprised to see him there. Normally the child was always well hidden at home.

“They are just destroying lives. That's the only thing they know how to do…” Tom attacked again. Clark agreed and your father approached in silence, trying to pretend he didn't know, but he knew, of course he knew.

“Your mom had to go pick up your brother… Why don't you join Greg for dinner?” your father whispered as the four year old was still engrossed in his drawing. You scooped up the little boy, who clutched the paper in his hand as you walked up the back stairs.

Your house was on the second floor of your father's business. The metal steps creaked under your weight, but your father's eyes exerted a greater weight on you. He would never tell you anything. He hadn't told your sister before he died either, but the Targaryens had destroyed his life, the life of the people in that place... your life.

Greg stared blankly as you dressed him in his pajamas after dinner. Sitting on your bed, his purple eyes seemed empty and innocuous. It had always been like this. Consciousness never seemed to have reached that unwanted child. You ruffled his hair, almost expecting a smile, but he just fixed his eyes on you. Empty and deep. As if he knew everything and nothing at the same time. You sat down next to him and took off the new sneakers Aemond had forced you to accept.

“Today I saw a dragon,” you commented, also staring at the wall. The boy turned his head slightly. His huge eyes fixed on you. The stories you always told him seemed to be the only ones that woke him up from his lethargic state. “A green dragon, like the one you were painting,” you smiled at him and his eyes seemed to get even bigger.

Greg's real name was Aeron, courtesy of your sister and his father, Aegon Targaryen. Your sister had been stupid enough to get pregnant by that rebellious boy and die in childbirth, leaving her son alone. Your parents had wanted Aegon to keep the child, but it had been impossible. A child who was not like the others, a dragon locked in a home where they were hated. Greg. It was a much better name according to your father. Your grandfather had been called that.

The Targaryens had destroyed the town with the pollution emitted by their businesses, both legal and illegal, and your entire family. And you… you had fallen in love with one of them.

Greg ended up falling asleep with you while you waited for your mother and brother. Your father always closed the bar late, but it wasn't normal for them to take so long to come back. Something must have happened...

At midnight, the lock on the front door clicked and you went out into the hallway to see if your brother and mother were finally arriving. However, that was a big mistake.

“Be thankful they're not going to press charges,” your mother's words echoed throughout the house, no doubt she was scolding your brother. He uttered something incomprehensible in the state he was in. At the time, you didn't know it, but your older brother was in trouble with Aegon again... bloody knuckles. His lost look. The split lip. While you had made love with Aemond, Gregory had punched Aegon to death.

You stood petrified, contemplating him in silence. Just then he located you. “You're a whore who sells herself for a simple cocoa roll,” he whispered. He had never told you anything like that. He, unlike your father, had always known how to hide his anger towards you. But, that night was the one that changed everything.

“Gregory, stop it,” your mother scolded him, knowing before you what he had in mind, after all she had given birth to him… Gregory pounced on you. “Gregory!!!” your mother shouted it. His bloody nails dug into your brother's skin as he hit you while you fell to the ground.

Your father had only hit you that one time... only that one time... was all you could think as you received one blow after another. He grabbed your hair, stretched your neck, and choked you until you were unconscious... The Targaryens had destroyed everything you cared about... and the only thing you could think about was that Aemond would be angry when he saw your body full of bruises... The enormous Greg's eyes watched everything in silence. That child had only seen violence in his life.

The Targaryens always destroyed everything, and Aemond and the tattoo he now had on his shoulder were proof of that.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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aaronplumbingltd · 1 year

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heatingrus · 2 years

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maykitz · 2 years

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causing a small ruckus at the gas station by incessantly demanding they bring in the usual night shift cashier in the alt girl outfit because i, quote, "don't feel safe" seeing a non crossdresser operating the register

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pedge-stuff · 10 months

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Fic request: Pedro or reader has an intense panic attack in a public. Reader has to talk him through it and calm him down enough so they can leave the event. Holding each other in bed.

clean up, aisle 4 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: sometimes, you deal with the downsides.

——————————————————————————

"I feel like we tried this and didn't like it."

Pedro inspects the back label on the box— some kinda chickpea flour protein pasta 'alternative' that came less-than-highly recommended by his personal trainer— before re-shelving it alongside the other sad, fake noodles.

The grocery store has become a little bit of a minefield. Gladiator 2 prep was exciting, until the rigorous hours in the gym started requiring a specialized diet. He can't eat carbs, you don't eat meat, both of you love frozen pizza, and neither of you really want to participate in the whole classic disordered Hollywood eating thing. And yet, here you are.

Home-cooked meals have consisted mostly of roasted vegetables and dry, baked proteins. You're attempting to eat "clean" in solidarity with him, but...

"We don't need pasta," Pedro laments, turning away from the shelving altogether. "What's left?"

You pull the notes-app list back up. "Whatever kind of frozen fruit you want for smoothies, plus pitted dates. I'd love those wasabi almonds from last month, but I dunno if they have them again. We could get Skinny Pop, if you want it?"

A grimace. "That's fine."

"We don't have to get it, Pedge."

"It's fine, really. We need something for the movie tonight, right?"

His shoulders slump as he pushes the cart onwards. The back right wheel is making a little squeaking sound, sharp and grating on your last damn nerve. This grocery store feels more and more like a minefield with every aisle turn. The balance between supporting Pedro in his training, and wanting him to just say fuck it and be happy, feels entirely precarious.

"Almonds," Pedro mutters, veering right, around an obnoxiously large Goldfish display and the toddler sobbing loudly in front of it. An obstacle course of bright lights and loud sounds. "Almonds, almonds—"

"Ohmygod, Pedro Pascal."

Immediately, no. Two college-aged, tri delta-looking, fresh-from-the-salon type girls, grinning like they'd won the damn lottery. Fans— no one he actually knows says "Pay-drow."

The wheel squeaks again as they grind to a forceful halt; the girls are standing directly in the path of the cart.

"Should we ask for a picture?" They speak at full volume, to each other, as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

"We have to, for the gram. Oh my god."

"Maybe Deuxmoi will pick it up."

Pedro grimaces as they start rummaging for their phones. He's always generous with his time— sometimes a little too generous, so concerned with hurting peoples' feelings that he'll take selfies through the drive-thru window, or walking the dogs. Even one memorable time, pumping gas.

Only at night, lights off, tucked away, does he ever confess his frustrations. As though he should not want privacy; as though being grateful was more important than being safe. Guilt eats him in ways that you alone cannot heal. All you can do is hold him a little tighter.

A phone is thrust towards you. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Before either of you can react, one girl has her arm over Pedro's shoulder. The other, on his waist. He's never been one to shy away from affection— had been pushing the cart single-handedly, with the other on the small of your back, since the dairy section— but that intimacy does not extend to strangers.

They are laughing, chattering— something about Game of Thrones. You distinctly make out so sexy and slay.

But you hardly register them, instead frowning at your partner as you snap a couple pics without looking. He is frozen, eyes fixed somewhere past you, though he offers a wan smile for the camera. Answers a question you can't hear with a half-hearted laugh, before gesturing to the next aisle. A polite gesture, too far from the fuck off on the tip of your tongue.

Pedro attempts to move away, but the girl's arm is still snaked around his waist. Trapped. She reaches to wrap the other around, attempting to encircle him in a teddy bear-style hug. This, here, is the limit.

With a rough, jerky motion, he forces her off of him. "Sorry, sorry," he says quickly. "We need to go."

"But—"

If you push the cart, and it happens to roll over a perfectly manicured foot, well...

Pedro is a few paces ahead of you, stalking towards the almonds like they owe him a grave debt. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

Not good.

His tells for a panic attack are well-catalogued in your brain. You push the cart to one side, mouthing an apology to the man you almost plow down, before approaching Pedro with caution. His chest heaves as he frowns at the Blue Diamond display, breaths noticeably shallow.

"Pedro." Fighting muscle memory, you don't touch him. Don't want to startle him, though concern burns a hole in your own diaphragm.

"Mm."

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes squeeze shut, instead. "I'm good. I'm good."

"Why don't you go to the car, I'll finish up quick."

"I'm good," he insists, voice cracking.

"It's OK if you're not good."

A hitch in his breath, and Pedro's face crumbles. "Just startled me, is all," he whispers, brown eyes pooling remorsefully. "So stupid. Can't even make it through the fucking supermarket to get my fucking fruits and veggies."

You reach for his hand, lithe fingers prying his clench fist apart. Soothe the red-crescent divots in his palm with the pad of your thumb. Wait for him to continue, as if you're not both standing in the middle of the nuts-candy-and-coffee section.

"Everything is just a lot right now," Pedro says, dragging in a shaky but deeper inhale. His other hand swipes across his cheek.

Mentally, you catalogue how difficult it would be to return the items in your cart; how fast you could retrace your steps, and rush the man home.

You bring his palm to your lips, instead. "Go take a smoke," you suggest. "And then we can get the fuck outta here."

"Someone's gonna post it online again. Everyone's talking about how I reek of cigarettes."

"You have reeked of cigarettes as long as I've known you. They are late to this." Tugging playfully on the hand you still hold, you wait for him to crack the barest, thinest of smiles.

"You still love me, though."

"Enough to fight off anyone else who tries to dry-hump you in this Whole Foods."

Slowly, you both retreat to the abandoned cart. "Can we—" Pedro stops himself, unsure of how to ask.

"Whatever it is, babe, yes."

He pushes forward. "What if I was asking if we could get naked right now and run through the supermarket parking lot so people would think we were crazy and leave us alone forever?"

"Then I'd start untying my shoes. It'd be hard to pull my jeans over 'em."

The wasabi almonds are, finally, pulled from the shelf. You proceed to the freezers. "That's not what I was gonna ask," he admits, grabbing a bag of chunked mango.

"Bummer."

"Can we just get some normal fucking popcorn? If one night's worth of fake butter is what does me in, someone else can be the Gladiator, I give up."

For him? Anything.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #din djarin x reader #din djarin #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the mandolorian

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