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#it was one of those bathroom restock ones
becca-e-barnes · 2 years
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sub bucky on a leash?? ugh torturing him w a vibrator as he calls you ma'am and begs you to let him come, using the leash to pull him forward so you can slap him and coo at your little puppy 🥺
I can’t get this fucking thought out of my head, why is this so hot?
Like subby Bucky who just wants to be totally dommed with a pretty pink collar around his neck that's attached to a matching pink leash. Maybe little dog tags that tinkle when he moves. Maybe they have your name engraved on them too, just so he remembers he's fucking owned.
And the way he'd whimper when you tug on the leash and press his face against your pussy. He'd lick you like he's starving, moaning with every sharp tug on his hair and thriving off the way you taunt him. "Stupid little puppy, aren't you? You just want to lick until you've had enough." You try to keep your composure as you're teasing him but God, it's too good. He's frantic, almost overwhelmed and he looks so beautiful like this.
"Yes ma'am." He pants breathlessly, looking up at you with tousled hair and blown out pupils. You know he's achingly hard. You don't even need to see him to know his cock is heavy and twitching between his thighs, begging to be touched but all his attention is still on you.
"You're fucking pathetic." You hiss, tugging his hair back so damn hard, making him look up at you before your free hand strikes his cheek. You don't hit him hard, just enough to sting pleasantly but it's enough to make him moan like a slut.
"Please. Fucking. Touch me." His voice is soft, barely louder than a breath because all that composure he usually has is gone. He's not far off begging but it's so much more fun when you get him all the way.
"Why would I touch you? You're my slutty little puppy, aren't you? You're just here to please me." The gentle reminder makes his eyes roll back in his head and he's humming nice and low because his resolve is slipping. "You forget that this collar means you're mine? Even with the pretty tags? Fuck, you go stupid when you're horny like this."
You're not far wrong and he knows it because he feels stupid. The only thoughts in his head are of getting you off and getting himself off and he knows that exact order will be the most rewarding.
"P-please let me cum." He sounds so broken, looking up at you with the gentlest eyes and oh, that's him begging.
You can't help but smirk at him, watching how he trails kisses up the insides of your thighs like that will change your mind in the slightest.
"No, baby. I want to cum first and I want to cum so fucking hard you make me see stars." You smirk, tugging his head back where you want it and while it's not exactly what he begged for, it's the next best thing.
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prosciuttulipa · 21 days
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Period Pain, Go Away
how the JJK men help you through your period
content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33
a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want
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Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.
Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?
It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."
Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.
The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"
You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"
Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."
He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.
He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."
Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."
When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."
His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.
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wttcsms · 3 months
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i wanna brag about it (i wanna tie the knot) ; choso.
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pairing choso x f!reader word count 2.6k synopsis overworked, stressed, and in need of relief, choso comes home to the sight of you looking all pretty and sweet. it's been a long time coming, and tonight is the night where choso finally gives in to his deepest desire: fucking a baby into you. content contains babysitter!au (babysitter!reader), ceo!choso, half-brothers!choso & yuuji, toddler!yuuji, implied age gap, breeding kink, obsessive + possessive!choso, housewife kink, misogynistic ideals, wet n messy, size kink, belly bulge, bro is literally so in love with you and dreams abt starting a family with you
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Choso could use a drink right about now.
He’s rummaging through his fridge, more than happy to grab one of the many bottles in the back (he doesn’t want Yuuji accidentally grabbing one by accident — not that it would happen, thanks to your supervision), but he startles away from the fridge when a voice fills the silence of the kitchen.
“Late night?” You tease, giving him that sweet smile of yours that has the stresses from today lifting from his body, easing the weight on his otherwise tense shoulders. 
Fuck. 
Proof that today was a major shitshow is evident in the fact that Choso has forgotten all about you. Staring at your body clad in nothing more than one of those skimpy cropped-cami-and-boyshorts matching sets you always favor, he finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget about you. The refrigerator light bathes you, envelopes you, casts a warm glow on your soft skin and makes it look like you’re an angel radiating some bright aura. A subtle glance at your entire body allows him a glimpse of two, tiny peaks poking through the thin material of your top. You like keeping the house cold. He swallows hard, finding the willpower to focus on your face.
Not like staring at your face is enough to stop his cock from twitching in his work trousers. In fact, he probably gets even harder looking at you, especially when he can tell you’ve probably just finished your very sacred and meticulous nighttime skincare routine, your face glowing. Seeing you all clean and fresh, savoring the domesticity of you washing your face in the same bathroom he brushes his teeth in, salivating over the way you look standing in his kitchen (it could be yours, too, if you would let him give you everything he wants to) wearing nothing but your pajamas — it all makes his hindbrain want to take over. He’s spent the last fourteen hours stuffed in a boardroom or his office, and your simple existence is enough to soothe his soul and send him spiraling, all at the same time.
Choso could really, really use a drink right about now.
“Sorry, I meant to call to tell you—”
“Don’t worry about it.” You smile at him goodnaturedly, like you’re not still in college with much better things to do on a Friday night than wait for him to come home. 
He should be thankful that you’re so sweet to him, but just the idea that you did have plans tonight makes a hot coil of jealousy tighten in his stomach. 
Choso knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way; he shouldn’t even notice you as much as he does. It starts out with the little things, first, like making sure his assistant gets your favorite snacks restocked during his usual weekly grocery delivery. He asks you about your schoolwork, and then finds himself filing away people he knows in your major’s industry. It’s good to have connections, he tells you, giving you the number to a good business acquaintance of his who’s looking for an intern in the near future. And of course, he’s hyper aware of the fact that you are a very beautiful girl. Unfairly so, with the curve of your lips and the slope of your nose; every time he sees you, he plays a game with himself. Tries to notice something new about you, a beauty mark, a new haircut. If he had the time, he’d probably try to get an exact count of your eyelashes. 
And now, he’s noticing too much of you. The way the fabric of your tiny matching set seems to accentuate every aspect of your body. How he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion. The way you’re staring at him, so innocently, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts that run rampant in his mind every time you have him cornered like this. 
Some nights, it’s almost too much to bear. 
It’s been a tough day, though. Week. Month. Endless meetings, negotiations that never result in any firm solutions, just more addendums to contracts. He hasn’t seen much of anything besides his office and the boardroom; what’s the point of having an office with a skyline view if he’s too busy staring at spreadsheets and emails to even enjoy it? 
Tonight, Choso realizes, is the night where he snaps. 
He says your name in such a low register, you almost don’t pick up on it. You’re in the middle of telling him a cute story about what Yuuji did during recess with his pre-k class, but you pause.
Maybe it’s all in your head, but it feels like something in the air has shifted. The way your tummy’s butterflies seem to be in overdrive is only proof of this. 
You’re used to the perpetual tension between you and Choso. Filthy rich, successful, always in a nice, tailored suit — looking purely on the outside, who wouldn’t want to get fucked by him? The more time you spend with him, the more time you fill the role of mother over just babysitter for little Yuuji, which gives way to deeper observation of Choso. He works incredibly long hours, but still has time to stay updated on all of Yuuji’s comings and goings, accomplishments and awards. He doesn’t have to; it’s not like he’s obligated. After all, Yuuji is his half-brother, a byproduct of his father’s mistress. He didn’t have to take him in, love him with his entire being, but he does, and this makes you fall for him only more. 
Then, there’s the fact of how he makes you feel. Every time his hands will brush gently against yours, innocently and so quickly, you swear you’re being electrified. The way he says your name, the way he tells you anything, in that low voice of his is enough to get you squeezing your thighs together. But most of all, it’s the way he looks at you. At first, you thought it was because of your crush, but the longer you work for him, the more you realize that Choso will occasionally stare at you when he thinks you won’t notice. 
But how could you not? How could you not detect the feel of his dark eyes scanning your figure, taking in your features? How could you not detect the way his eyes will darken over in lust when he watches you lick sweet cream off your fingers from an explosive can of whipped cream? How could you not catch the barest trace of a smile as he watches you interact with Yuuji at a park, willing to get your hands dirty to appease the toddler while Choso watches over the two of you from his seat on the bench? 
How could you not fall deeper and deeper into his spell when the threads of lust continue to spool, tightening over your body, practically choking you with desire. 
You don’t even realize how big Choso is until he’s standing so close to you, towering over you. So much bigger than you to the point where if you look straight ahead, all you can see is the rise and fall of his chest through his white button down (the one you ironed for him this morning). 
His hands curl into fists, like he’s restraining himself. “Tell me now,” he breathes out, words coming out tight, like speaking to you civilly is proving to be a strenuous task for him. “Tell me that I shouldn’t fuck you tonight. That I can’t.”
Is he joking, or are you dreaming? You’re hyper aware of your breathing now, of the way you reflexively lick your lips, of the way your nipples are pressed taut against the thin, cotton fabric of your cami. You’re also way too aware of him, with the lustful expression in his eyes that give way to something more, as if this request of his means something more. Most men his age and in his powerful position have a wife or a girlfriend by now. As long as you’ve known him, Choso hasn’t been with anybody. 
The stress, the agitation, that annoying, persistent feeling of constantly being pent up — all of it has been building up inside of him. Whoever is going to be on the receiving end of it will be lucky if they’re able to walk the morning after.
“But you can.” You say softly, almost scared that this is some elaborate trick, a means to see if his brother’s babysitter is to be trusted. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
There’s something animalistic in the way he takes you. When he kisses you, it’s hungry. Open-mouthed. Sloppy. It would be invasive if you weren’t so eager to let him, to allow his tongue to hit the roof of your mouth, to swap saliva in the messiest manner possible.
But there’s something gentle there, too. The way his hands cup your face, or travel to rest on your waist. He’s sweet, taking his time to help you slip out of your pajamas, and sweeter still — he lets out an appreciative hum as he takes in the sight of you bare, naked in the kitchen. Fuck a drink, Choso thinks as he takes in your nude body. You’re the only stress relief he needs. 
He whispers the nastiest things to you as he gets you to sit on the kitchen island. He asks you to please spread your legs so he can see that pretty pussy of yours, and when you comply, he takes in a sharp breath before running a single, cold finger against your wet folds. He makes a crude, appreciative comment, asking you are you really this wet, baby? All of this because of me? For me? 
You can’t answer him, of course. Talking is hard when he’s using two fingers to fuck you open, get you ready to take his cock. He’s knuckles deep, and when he curls his fingers right there, the only thing you’re capable of saying is a squeal of his name. Your juices are pooling into a puddle on the counter, the same counter where you served him breakfast so many hours ago. 
He loves watching you. Choso could watch you every second for the rest of his life and still never get his fill of you. He only catches you during particularly chaste moments, moments where you’re humming in the kitchen or playing with Yuuji. He loves those scenes; it feeds the archaic, masculine ego inside of him that tells him he needs to make life easier for you. That you shouldn’t have to worry about school or work, about money or other frivolous things he has an abundance of. He wants to take care of you. 
Seeing the way you lose control of yourself from the work of his own hand has him getting unbearably hard in his work slacks. He loves watching you, and he knows he’s going to love watching you get all depraved and drunk on his cock. 
When Choso first tries to ease just the tip in, you have to curl your fingers over the edge of the counter, trying to steel yourself. With how wet and willing you are, it should be an easy enough task, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s just too thick. 
Tip red and angry, leaking with pre, wide — just the sight of Choso’s cock is enough to get you even wetter, more pliant for him, but even the first stretch still has you hissing. 
“S’okay, baby.” He groans, one hand on your waist, trying to steady you, keep you still so he can keep on pushing himself deeper. “You’re doing so good for me.” 
You certainly don’t feel like you’re doing much of anything. It’s hard, when you can’t stop your walls from clamping down on his cock, making it harder for him to move or even think. When he fully enters you, your mind is already too dizzy with pleasure to think straight. You think he says something, but you’re not sure what, and you try to focus on his words, you really do, but then he starts thrusting, and you think it’s powerful enough to tilt the axis of the earth. 
Oh, so this is what sex is supposed to feel like. He redefines everything you thought you knew about it. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the way the slickness and heat of your pussy seems to keep motivating him to go harder, the way if you look down, you can spot a tiny bulge every time he hits as deep as he can go — all of this combined marks the height of pleasure for you.
“You’re so perfect.” He grunts out, relishing in the way you tighten up at his words. Your eyes are a bit glazed, almost like you’re struggling to focus on what’s in front of you. He doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, there’s pride settling inside his gut as he realizes that he’s the one fucking all the sense out of you. “Let’s do this every night, baby. Do you like the sound of that? Of being my stress relief?” 
He knows that you’re too far gone, too deep in the haze of pleasure, to process his words, to answer him. 
“I wanna fuck you forever, baby. Make you my pretty, little wife and have you waitin’ at home for me. How does that sound?”
He assumes when your pussy tightens up that that’s a yes. 
His hand finds your own, and he interlinks your fingers together. He might be fucking you all messy on the kitchen counter, but he still holds an overwhelming amount of affection for you. Of course he would want to hold your hand. 
He traces your ring finger, feels the familiar sensation of his release building up. So close, he thinks to himself. He’s so close to getting everything he wants.
“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum right. In. Your. Fucking. Pussy.” Each word is emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, and this — him saying that — is what your sex-addled mind registers. You’re vaguely aware that this could be a bad idea, but you’re too addicted to chasing after your high that you don’t put a stop to it. “Gonna give you a baby.”
“Please.” You moan out, the word coming out ragged and strained. Speaking is difficult, so so difficult. He’s happy to hear your beautiful voice, nonetheless.
“Atta girl. I knew you would understand.” 
As if confirming to him that the two of you are meant to be, you both cum at the same time. You feel weightless and drowsy, too out of it to even process how sloppy and wet the mess in between your legs is right now. If Choso pulls out, his cum and your juices would make the counter even more slippery. 
But Choso doesn’t pull out. His cock stays nestled in your wet heat, and he admires your fucked out form. You look a bit different from the fresh and clean girl who greeted him when he came home, but that’s okay. He loves you for you, every iteration you have to offer. He’ll carry you to the bedroom, where he can fuck you nicely, sweetly. Maybe he’ll try his hardest to not go too hard when he has you in a mating press. And after getting his fill of you, after the stresses of work disappear from his mind completely, then he’ll take you to the bathroom and get you all nice and clean. 
He’ll even be a gentleman, showcase what a great husband he’ll be, by letting you sleep in while he cooks the family breakfast.
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boldlyvoid · 1 year
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Employee of the Month
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eddie munson x reader
Summary: To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there
Warnings: mutual pining, partial slow burn, parental death, mentions of Eddie's murder charges (now dropped), being ostracized by the town, teasing, flirting, sick Eddie, hurt/comfort, falling in love, first kiss, first times, virgin Eddie, virgin reader, making out, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants. they're really horny touch starved adults
word count: 9k
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In a last-ditch effort to make some more money this Christmas, she takes a job at the local grocery store to stock the shelves at midnight. It’s not too bad, there are only 16 shelves and about 30 feet of freezer to restock, she gets to bring a walkman and headphones and wear whatever she wants. As long as the shelves look nice come morning, the boss didn’t really care. 
From the first night she worked there she knew it was going to be a good fit, mainly because the other stock person she’s been partnered with is the same guy she had a massive crush on in high school. Eddie Munson had one hell of a year while she was trying to graduate, he was getting accused of murdering her classmates. He disappeared mostly after that, the school gave him a pass and his diploma so they didn’t have to see him again, the town pretended they didn’t try and murder him in revenge for an entire week and she didn’t see him again for a while. 
“Hey,” she waves at him with her lips pressed together in a tight smile, “I’m—
“Y/N,” he points at her name tag with a matching smile. “I take it you’re my new buddy?” 
She nods, “yeah… um, what are we doing tonight?” 
“The snacks and chips aisle, the milk fridge and the cheeses,” he recites the list as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to her. 
While she is just in jeans and a sweater, nothing too fancy, he’s in a navy blue jumpsuit with his name embroidered on the left breast, and just under it, the grocery store logo. He was in uniform… “why don’t I have to wear one of those?” 
“Oh, I got this for being the employee of the month,” he shrugs it off, not meaning to brag in the slightest. “You like it?” 
“Yeah,” she smiles like a fool, nodding quickly and looking at the list he handed her to avoid his eye contact. 
She liked him so much in high school, and he was still so cute, it was all coming back to her. He’s much more laid back and reserved now, it has been over a year since she’s seen him in person, too. It made her wonder if he was still that same loud, opinionated nerd that she admired from a distance. 
He’s super nice about teaching her the right way to restock everything, bringing the old stuff to the front and the new things get pushed to the back of each shelf. They split up the aisles and met in the middle, trying to beat each other each time. He sang along to the radio playing over the speakers, and he danced when he thought she wasn’t looking… he was just as cute as he was in high school. 
They end up making a good team, they finish their list and pick up a few extra chores. They change a lightbulb in the guest bathroom, take inventory of the magazines and run disinfectant over every surface they could until their shift ends. It feels like it takes forever, they’re awkward when talking to each other but it’s kinda easy to hang out with him. This was going to be a good job for her. 
“You need a ride home?” He asks in the staff room after work, both of them putting on their coats and scarves. The November chill in Hawkins was not nice. 
She shakes her head and starts to point, “no, I just live—
“You can’t walk home in the middle of the night,” he cuts her off. “There’s too many creeps and animals out there. I don’t mind where it is?” 
“Okay,” she gives in easily. 
She gives him her address as they walk out to his van, he opens the door for her and lets her hop in before closing it for her too. He asks her about how long she’s lived there, trying his best to make conversation but it hurts. 
“Uh, we’ve always lived in Hawkins, my house is still a mess from the earthquake but the insurance is fixing it soon,” she assures, nervous for him to see the state of the place when he pulls up. “If my dad was still here he’d probably have it done by now, but it’s just me and my mom.” 
“God, I’m sorry,” he felt so bad for asking. “That was the worst fucking week ever.” 
“yeah… it sucked for everyone,” she doesn’t even know how to touch upon what he went through. “Glad it’s over.” 
“More than you know,” he sighs, turning onto her road finally. 
He doesn’t want to come in for coffee or anything, he gives her a smile and a wave and watches to make sure she gets inside her house safely before driving away. 
She thinks about him well into the morning when she should be sleeping. It’s easy to get sucked into an imaginary life where he asks her out after a shift and they hang out and fall in love and she finally gets to kiss that smile off his beautiful face… it’s not easy to make it come true. She would go to her grave with the fact she thinks he’s handsome and nice and funny and cute. She’s not big on sharing feelings, having no one to ever really share them with, in the first place. 
She doesn’t see him unless she’s working, which was only 3 nights a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. 
She uses those 3 nights wisely. She wears something nice but not too suspicious, and she always smells nice and does the best she can with her hair and makeup… she wants him to think she’s pretty. She wants to catch him staring at her instead of how many times he caught her looking at him as a teenager. 
He tells her that she looks nice every day in many different ways. 
“Did you come straight from the ball, princess?” 
“You know this is a grocery store, not a fashion show, right?” 
And her personal favourite… “It's too cold out there for you to come in looking so hot.” With a wink. A fucking wink. It almost made her pass out. 
He does it just to bug her, he likes to make her squirm and lose every thought in her head. He laughs when she stutters through a response and he always pats her shoulder gently and says, “I just mean you look nice today.” 
She has a hard time reaching the top shelves sometimes and he has no problem coming over and standing real close to her. “Here, I got that,” he says in such a low voice it felt like a whisper. He reaches up and takes everything down for her, “do you want me to put them up for you too?” 
“Sure,” she doesn’t mind, she works on the second highest shelf instead, still close to him, she watches him reach and extend his long arms and puff out his chest and ugh he’s so hot it makes her stare like an idiot. 
“You’re drooling,” he teases her. 
She wipes her face quickly, “what? No, shut up.” 
He just giggles and finishes shoving the new stock toward the back of the shelf. She bumps shoulders with him right before he heads back to his stack of things, he had boxes of croutons to unpack. She was now moving on to salad dressings and other condiments. 
She doesn’t dare start up any conversations, overthinking everything that comes into her head too much. She didn’t feel like he’d find anything she had to say interesting. 
They’re in the soup aisle when he finally speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”
She’s a bit shocked cause he’s been silent for so long, but she nods. 
“When you dream is there ever a specific topic you dream about the most?” 
“Tornados,” she can answer without batting an eye. “I had one the other night actually… I don’t know why but there’s always a tornado.” 
“That is an interesting one… did you just watch a lot of the wizard of oz growing up?” He teases. 
She can’t help but smile, “no, I’ve actually never watched it.” 
“You get more interesting every time you talk,” he means it as a compliment. 
“Yeah? Well, why’d you even ask about dreams? Do you have a good one?”  She turns the conversation back to him, taking a handful of soups and shoving them into the shelf. 
“I keep having dreams in high school where I’m failing again and none of the teachers will pass me,” he explains. “And I had one last night cause I guess seeing you again so much is reminding me of being back in school.” 
“Wait,” she turns to him full of shock and awe, “you remember me?” 
“Of course,” he doesn't see it as a big deal. “Your lunch table was beside ours, I saw you every day?” 
He saw me looking at him often… 
She wants to turn inside out with embarrassment. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t think you paid attention to that.” 
“How could I not? You always reacted the best when I did something stupid,” he reminisces, stepping in closer to her. “And I remember your laugh was cute.” 
She’s too nervous to even giggle awkwardly, he’s in her personal space and he smells good and his eyes are so inviting, “thanks…” all the air in her chest leaves as she melts in front of him. 
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do all that shit just for your attention,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at hers. 
It’s like time stops, her brain can’t process all the information so she just blinks a few times and stares back at him with a furrowed brow. “Really?” 
He nods with a laugh, pulling away and returning to the stack of boxes they had to put away. “Yeah, I uh, I should probably feel a little stupid telling you this now after all this time, but uh, you bring the stupid out of me… I kinda had a huge crush on you back then.” 
“Me?” 
“Yeah, you,” he teases. “You act like thats a total surprise? You’re so pretty and you were never mean to me, it was bound to happen.” 
She’s completely dumbfounded, “oh… that’s— I’m nice to everyone? At least I try to be.” 
But then she realizes what he really said, he used to have a crush on her, but that’s long gone. He wouldn’t tell her if he still had one, would he? Guys weren’t that open about feelings, it was always a game with them… right? 
“Sorry,” he realizes he fucked up by telling her. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just weird for me. I’ve never been told straight up that someone had a crush on me,” she’s really taken aback. “Thanks… really.” 
“Anytime,” he blushes slightly, dropping it there.
He drives her home again like he does every night that she works cause he really can’t stand the idea of her walking home past midnight as the temperature drops. He has tried to offer to pick her up beforehand, but she doesn’t want to put him out, and her mom doesn’t mind dropping her off every night… but he asks again, anyway. 
Parked outside of her house, he turns to her. “Can I please come pick you up before your next shift?” He all but begs. 
“I guess,” she gives in, “why?” 
He shrugs, “I like spending time with you.” 
“Then why don’t you ever want to come in for a coffee?” She combats, really wanting him to come in. “I also have tea and hot chocolate…” 
“Okay,” he gives in right back. “I’ll come in with you, tonight.” 
“Really?” She lights right up and throws off her seatbelt, reaching for the door. 
“Wait, wait, wait!” He panics, rushing out first and coming around to her side to open it up for her, “you’re gonna make me look bad, walking you to the front door and not getting the door for you is a crime.” 
“If you say so,” she laughs at him as she hops out beside him. 
He slams her door closed and with a hand on her back, he leads her toward the front door. “You sure you’re mom's okay with me being in her house?” 
“Yeah, why not?” She honestly forgets. 
“Well, I’m me?” He awkwardly laughs, feeling incredibly nervous about his reputation. “It’s honestly why I’ve not said yes yet, I don’t know who hates me still…” 
“Oh god, no, she doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anyone,” she puts up both hands in a sort of surrender that made him smile. She meant it. “She’s also asleep so you won’t have to talk to her at all.” 
“Okay,” he assures her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder with a smile. 
Every time he looks at her like that she wants to melt right into him, to swim around in the chocolate pools of his eyes for hours on end. He’s so beautiful, she’s never going to get over it. 
He leans in closer, looking at her through his lashes, “Are we going inside soon, it’s cold out here?” 
“Sure, yeah,” she remembers what they were doing, digging her keys out of her pocket. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, slipping in first and letting him follow. 
Inside he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket beside hers before following her all the way into the kitchen. He’s as quiet as a mouse, respecting that her mom is asleep somewhere in the house. 
“So what’ll it be?” She asks, opening up the fridge to take a look while he sits down at the kitchen counter. 
“Oh, I’m good, I just wanted to come in with you,” he admits but by the look on her face, she doesn’t believe him. “Seriously, I’m just going to go home and sleep anyway, it’s fine.” 
“You’ve gotta have something… come on?” She stares him down, “Pepsi? Ginger ale? Water? What about a snack?” 
“I’m fine,” he means it. “What do you normally have when you come home?” 
“It’s always different, sometimes my mom makes something for us for dinner and other nights I just have like a pop tart,” she shares, opening the cupboard and taking out a box. 
“I could actually go for a pop tart,” he admits, eyes up the box in her hands. 
She laughs and opens up one of the silver, crinkly packets and hands him one. He takes a big bite and dramatically throws his head back with a groan, “fuck, I forgot how good these are.”
“And you would’ve kept forgetting if you didn’t come in with me, so I guess you have to from now on,” she teases, feeling a lot more confident with him suddenly… she felt like things could be fun between them. If he wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she might as well try for being his best friend. 
“You’re too cute to say no to,” he can’t help but smile at her. 
“Again, you’re the only one to think so,” she rolls her eyes, not believing him. He was just a flirt, it wasn’t the truth… right?
“More for me, then,” he shrugs, taking another bite from his pop tart and dropping it there. 
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Her mom asks from the kitchen. 
“I’m fine,” she calls back, staring out the front window, watching the street for Eddie’s van. “My co-worker offered to pick me up.” 
“Oh, which one?” 
“Um, Eddie…” she turns around slowly to see her mom standing in the doorway now. “Eddie Munson.” 
“Oh,” she is a little shocked to hear that name after so long. “I didn’t know he was still in Hawkins?” 
“He works nights so no one has to see him,” she explains, “cause people are mean… he was really scared to come in last night after work cause he didn’t want to upset you by coming into your house.” 
“Poor boy,” she feels so bad, never wanting her home to strike fear in someone. “I knew you wouldn’t have a crush on a monster, and the police cleared him, this town owes him an apology too.” 
“I know,” she agrees but she doubts it’ll ever happen. 
Sometime during their chat, Eddie pulled up outside and made his way to her front door where he laid a few knocks. She opens the door with a huge smile, “hi, sorry you didn’t have to come all the way to the door.” 
“I wanted to,” he assures her, seeing her mom peeking over her shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 
“Hello,” she gives him a little wave. “Have fun at work you two, I’ll see you, tomorrow sweetheart.” 
“Bye mom,” she slips outside with Eddie, knowing her mom was going to watch them walk back to his van. 
He extends his hand and holds hers as they walk down the few steps of her porch, he drops her hand only to place it on her back as he leads her toward the passenger door. He opens for her, like always. He runs around the van, sends a wave to her mom at the door and then hops inside, “ready?” 
“Ready,” she can’t bite back her smile anymore, she was so giddy about holding his hand that it made her feel like a little girl again. 
He pauses for a moment and looks her up and down, “did you get all dolled up 'cause I’m driving you?” 
She tilts her head to the side, annoyed cause he always asks, “I always look like this.” 
“Beautiful, you mean?” 
She walked right into that one. 
“Fine, I’ll let you have it this time,” she gives in. 
“Good,” he throws the van in drive and heads out of her little neighbourhood towards town. 
He’s quiet for a bit, she looks around at the street lights and the businesses still open, as well as all the houses with their Christmas lights up already. “I miss it was still kinda sunny out at 8pm,” she sighs, staring out the window at the full moon rising over Hawkins. 
“I like the dark,” he shares. “Less people are out.” 
“Why don’t you move? Not that I want you to leave, but wouldn’t it be more freeing to have no one know who you are? You deserve a real life,” she lets her feelings fall right out. “You’re not a bad person, you never have been.” 
“Thanks,” he reaches out his hand and rests it on her thigh. “But it’s ‘cause everyone I love is here, I can’t leave.” 
“Right, so are you still in your band then?” 
He lets out a very surprised chuckle, “yeah, I still have my band, we still play Tuesday nights, it's the only night I don’t work.” 
She wouldn’t know that cause she didn’t work that night either, “I’ll have to come see you play sometime, I don’t have any classes that night.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school still?” 
“Community college,” she doesn’t feel so ashamed telling him. “Most my friends went off to real schools but it’s the only place I could go to for free, so.” 
“Hey, at least you got in,” he celebrates the bare minimum. “I couldn’t even dream of it with my GPA. I was thinking I’d wait a few years and get some kind of degree when I’m considered a mature student, and when people forget about me.” 
She wants to tell him that she’ll never forget about him, she never did. She thought about him all the time. She couldn’t hear Metallica on the radio without thinking about him. Every jean jacket patch made her think about him. She took a double take when she saw a man with long hair hoping it was him. She thought about him before she went to bed, in her dreams and as soon as her eyes opened in the morning. 
She was completely in love with him. 
She was only going to work for the holidays, and now that Christmas was only a few days away, she was worried that she only has a few more weeks left with Eddie. And for some reason that makes her want to get him a Christmas present, almost as a way to buy a place in his heart so he doesn’t forget about her when she’s not his buddy anymore. 
And then he doesn’t show up for work… she’s been waiting to see him all week, and he’s a no-show.
So she asks her shift manager who says Eddie called out earlier in the day really, really sick. It makes her heart hurt knowing he wasn’t feeling good. 
So she pushes through her shift. It’s weird without him, but she does it. She walks home for the first time and it’s a lot colder than she expected. The wind on her face and the snow in her hair, melt as the heat from her body escapes from her head. She gets home finally and she’s shivering, she wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep for days, instead goes right to the kitchen. She searches through her cupboards for a couple cans of chicken noodle soup and some crackers, she grabs a few cans of ginger ale and takes her mom's keys. There’s no way she’s going back out there 
She drives right into the trailer park and follows the road slowly, scanning the driveways for eddies van until she finally finds it. She parks outside the blue and white trailer and carefully heads towards his door, not wanting to slip with a handful of cans. 
She knocks carefully, the lights are all still on so it’s not like she’s waking him up… and then another man she doesn’t know answers. “Yes?” 
“Hi, I’m so sorry but is this Eddie’s trailer?” She panics. 
“It is.” 
“I brought him some soup, I heard he was sick and that’s why he couldn’t make it to work tonight…” 
“Oh, that’s sweet, come on in out of the cold,” he ushers her right inside the tiny trailer. “Sorry for the mess, we’ve both been battling this random cold, I got it at the plant and he finally got it from me yesterday.” 
“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she sympathizes as she lays everything down on his kitchen counter. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
“Wayne, Eddies uncle,” he introduces himself. “He’s talked a lot about you, I was wondering when I’d get to meet ya.” 
“Oh, really?” She can’t believe it. 
“yeah… you know, I can put that soup on, you can go down the hall there and see him, he’s just reading in bed, I think?” He points. 
“Oh, okay sure,” she doesn’t mind, she was honestly expecting Eddie to live alone and have an empty kitchen, not an uncle who loved him dearly there to take care of him. 
She shrugs off her coat and takes off her boots first and then she heads down the hallways carefully, she knocks on his closed door, waiting for the all-clear to enter… and his “yeah?” Comes out so sad and sickly that it makes her heart hurt. 
She pushes the door open carefully, “hey… I heard you were sick?” 
“Y/N?” He sits right up, fixing his hair and wiping his nose. “I didn’t think you knew where I lived?” 
“I just looked for the van, I think everyone knows you live in the trailer park,” she realizes how weird that sounds. 
“True, still I can’t believe you’re here?” 
She comes in and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, putting out her hand to hold the back of it to his forehead, “you’re all fevered, oh no… have you taken anything?” 
He nods, “yeah, some Buckleys…” 
“I brought you some soup, Wayne’s heating it up for you,” she explains with a soft smile. “He’s sweet.” 
“Where’d you think I got my charm from?” He teases, still well enough to try and make her smile. 
She brushes his hair off his face gently, “I’m glad you have him to take care of you.” 
“I’d much prefer you as my nurse… would you give me a sponge bath?” 
“No,” she holds back her laugh and just shakes her head with a smile. “But nice try.” 
“Damn,” he sighs, tossing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Turning on the dramatics, he looks at her with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “will you at least keep me company while I have my soup?” 
“Of course,” she planned to stay as long as he needed her. “I just have to bring my mom's car back before 8am cause she needs to go to work.” 
“I promise I won’t keep you long,” he reaches out for her hand, holding them with both of his own. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me… and might I say you look very cute today, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.” 
She melts at his words, “you must not be too sick if you’re still trying to flirt with me.” 
“I’m going to remind you that you’re beautiful until the day I die,” he’s very stern about that. 
“Yeah, like you’ll know me that long,” she plays it off. 
He gives her hands a little squeeze, “I like to think I will… I might just be high on cough syrup, but I like to think I’ll find you in every life I lead, you’re so special to me, Y/N.” 
“You’re definitely high,” she teases, leaning in forward to kiss his forehead as she stands up. “I’m going to check on your soup… you sober up by the time I get back.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees but doesn’t drop her hands, he holds on as long as he can and then she slips away from him. 
Wayne’s just putting the soup in a bowl as she walks back into the kitchen, she grabs a sleeve of soup crackers and a ginger ale, it's plated and then Wayne turns to her. 
“You know he’s not kidding, right?” 
“What?” 
“He wouldn’t lie,” Wayne gives her those honest Munson eyes that she loves so much in his nephew. “And clearly you feel the same if you’ve come all the way out here at half midnight to make him soup.” 
She feels the colour leave her face as she’s caught red-handed, she was doing this because she loved him so dearly she couldn’t stand spending a shift without seeing him. She wanted to always take care of him. She loved him. It was as simple as that. She just loves him. 
“Life’s too short to not tell each other,” he adds some last words of wisdom and hands her the tray of her lover's dinner. 
She’s extra quiet when she brings him his dinner, and when she sits on the end of his bed to accompany him while he eats. He has a book resting face down, cracked open to keep its page, resting beside him. She reaches for it, checking the cover, it’s the fellowship of the ring. 
“I’ve never read The Lord of the Rings, is it good?” 
“It’s the best book series there is,” he assures her while taking another spoonful of soup. 
She keeps her thumb where Eddie was reading but skips back to the first few pages, reading it over quietly to see if she’d like it at all… it’s cute. “You can read it from the beginning if you want?” 
“Out loud?” She wonders if he’d want to hear that too. 
“As if you could get any better,” he manages to smile no matter how sick he feels. “Please, I’d really love that.” 
“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”
He basks in the way her voice sounds alongside his favourite book, words he’s read so many times and heard in his own voice now being retold in hers. He listens ever so intently, enjoying it more than she’d ever know as she watches the page, trying her hardest not to stutter and to pronounce all the words right so he didn’t laugh at her… but even when she gets stuck he just affectionately corrects her and admires her as she continues. 
She makes it through the prologue and the facts about hobbits and pipeweed and the shire by the time he’s done eating. He has enough energy to take his dishes out to the kitchen himself and returns with a smile. She made her way up to the pillows beside him and slipped under the covers so he could get in beside her, “come on, I’m reading you a chapter or two and then I’ve gotta go home.” 
“Right,” he gets into the bed beside her and snuggles right up to her, he wraps himself around her arm with his cheek on her shoulder so he can watch the page as she reads on through chapter one. 
He falls asleep like that, with a warm belly full of soup and a heart full of love, it pains her to get up and possibly disrupt him. 
She does get up, slowly but surely, replacing herself with a pillow that he snuggles up to instead. She kisses him on the forehead, he’s not as fevered as before, hopefully he felt better tomorrow. She takes a look around for a scrap piece of paper, finding one on his dresser with a sharpie marker. She leaves her phone number and a little note. 
Call me tomorrow, I want to know if you’re feeling better. Hopefully we can finish this sometime. 
xx Y/N
She slips it into the book and leaves it on his night table and then she’s off. She says goodbye to Wayne who’s still awake because if he sleeps he’ll throw off his schedule when he goes back to work. He also did night shifts, so he wouldn’t be there next time she comes over after work… that’s good to know. 
He takes the whole weekend off and it sucks, but she understands he needs the time to get better. He calls her to let her know that decision around 2pm on Saturday and they stay on the phone all the way up until she has to get ready for work. 
Waynes gone back to work, leaving him completely alone in the trailer after they hang up the phone… and all he can think about is how she’s going to have to walk home again. It rattles around his brain most of the night, he paces the trailer, feeling like shit but his love for her is eating him alive and it hurts more than his congested nose. At 11:52 he finally says fuck it. 
In his pyjamas and all, he throws on a coat and slips his feet into his boots, he snags his keys off the wall and he’s gone. He books it out of the trailer park, watching the clock on his dash to ensure midnight doesn’t sneak up on him. The streets are empty, so he doesn’t worry about racing through the yellow lights on his way to the store. 
He pulls up with just a few minutes to spare, his heart racing, he just parks at the curb by the employee's only back door and he waits for her. He reaches over to the passenger door to roll down the window, wanting her to be able to see him… as if she wouldn’t notice that it’s his van. She knew his van. 
She knew him. 
And she liked him. 
The heavy door slowly opens and he sees her, laughing with their co-worker as she buttons up the last few buttons on her jacket. She’s bundled up in a scarf and she has a hat on today, she planned to be warmer on tonight's walk home.  
“Eddie?” She lights right up. “What are you doing here.” 
“I may be on my death bed but I’m not letting you walk home in the dark, princess,” he assures her, pushing the door open so she can get in. 
She waves goodbye to their co-worker, finishing their conversation before she hops in the van and closes the door. She rolls the window back up. “Burr, you’re you’re going to get sicker with this open.” 
“I hope you don’t find it weird that I’m here?” He worries, “seriously, after everything that happened here, walking home alone at midnight isn’t smart… it killed me that you walked home yesterday and then still came to see me.” 
“I know, it’s okay,” she reaches out to hold his gently in hers. “You can pick me up and drive me home all the time if it makes you feel better?” 
“You’ve gotta want to spend time with me too,” he places his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t feel like you have to be nice to me, little miss I’m nice to everyone.” 
“I am,” she feels offended. “I know you’re not stupid, you’ve gotta see I love spending time with you.” 
“I like to hear you say it, sue me,” he smiles, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He’s so close to her already that he could kiss her. 
But then he’d get her sick. 
So he pulls back a bit and pats her hand as her grip loosens. “Let’s get you home.” 
“Yeah,” she settles into her seat and puts on her seatbelt, he waits for the click and then he’s off, taking the familiar route back to her place. 
He asks her about her day, what they did, and how they’re doing without him. She missed him, he can tell by the way she complains about being partnered with someone new. “They didn’t do anything the way you do, it felt so wrong.” 
She thinks I do things the right way…
His heart soars the whole ride and then it ends too soon. He parks at the curb with a sigh, “I’m going to be up for a bit if you want to call me?” 
“You don’t want to come in?” 
He shakes his head, “I can’t get my germs all over your place.” 
“Right, no I get it,” she understands, but she lingers. He stares at him for a sec, “walk me to my door at least?” 
“Sure,” he can’t say no to her. 
She stays put this time, he runs around to her door and opens it, expecting her to jump right out but she pulls him close, using her height in the seat to her advantage. She touches his forehead gently, “you’re not fevered today, that’s good at least… I’d hate to miss another week with you.” 
“I’ll come get you tomorrow, but I’m not working,” he compromises, knowing he hates not getting to see her too. 
She hops out of the van and takes his hand on the way up to her door, “I could get used to this treatment.” 
“You should,” he agrees. “Cause I’m not giving up.” 
In sickness and in health and all that jazz… he’d be there through it all if she wanted him. 
At her door, she gives him those same eyes as in the van, and he wants to kiss her so goddamn bad but he can’t. He simply pulls her into a hug and holds her tight, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She holds him around the middle just as tightly, it's a beautiful goodbye for a couple of friends. 
He comes to pick her up for her next shift once again, only this time he pulls her into a hug at the door and kisses the top of her head, “hey, sweetheart, ready for work?” 
She can only nod against him, soaking in the hug as long as she can get. “What was that for?” She asks as he pulls back. 
He shrugs, “just cause… I missed you, I guess.” 
“I missed you, too,” she wraps her arm around his middle and holds him close as she joins him on the walk back to his van. “Which is funny 'cause we’ve been talking more than ever, lately.” 
“I know,” he loved it and it was evident in his voice. 
Every night that she’s not working they talk on the phone, from the time she’s done with her classwork until he has to leave for his night shifts. It was a lovely little tradition now, he loved to learn about all her projects and reports, and he even let her read things over for his opinion. More than once he’s called her a genius, but the best thing he’s ever said to her was “your future kiddos are going to love you.” In regard to the class of students, she was going to teach one day. 
It’s a day like any other, they have little conversations on their way to work, clock in together and head right to the first aisle on their to-do list. He dances around to the music, they toss things at each other, he makes dirty jokes, and she shakes her head with so much love you could see hearts float around her head. It’s so completely normal. 
And then she almost drops a whole shelf on herself, he’s quick to swoop in and catch it for her. They put it back in place and carefully let it go, making sure it stays put before she turns to thank him… only he’s about an inch, maybe two from her face. 
“That was a close one,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “Would hate to lose you to the soup aisle.” 
She can’t help staring back at his lips, wanting to kiss him so goddamn bad she forgets how to breathe for a moment. It’s like time stops while she stares at him and he stares back. 
“I’d hate to lose you at all…” 
“Why?” Even she’s surprised to hear it come out of her. 
He doesn’t say anything, he simply leans in more, and so does she. Meeting him halfway, their lips touch slowly and then all at once. A hand of his cups her face, holding her in place while she holds his sides, pulling him closer so their chests are pressed together. 
Breathing each other in deeply, she feels her soul intertwine with his at that moment. Everything makes sense. She was supposed to take this little job and spend all this time with him for this moment right here. It was always supposed to happen. 
They were meant to happen. 
They pull away with a matching smile, giggling as they come to terms with the fact that just happened… it finally happened. 
“You understand what I mean, right?” He teases. 
She nods, “yeah… I get it, but could you say it just one more time?” 
“Here?” He teases, kissing her cheek. “Or here?” He kisses her jaw next and moves towards her ear, “I could say it all over you if you let me.” 
“We’re still at work,” she reminds him, pushing him away slightly before he could kiss her neck and start something he couldn’t finish in the freaking soup aisle. 
“Do you want to come over later? To kiss a bit and read more lord of the rings?” He offers, making it sound a lot more innocent than either of them wanted it to be. 
“Only if you read the chapter this time,” she teases, heart racing in her chest at the prospect of being alone with him. 
Him. 
The one and the only crush she’s had for the last 6 years of her life. 
He flirts with her more than ever after that, he steals kisses every time he passes her and even serenades the love songs on the speaker to her. She pokes his sides when she passes by him, learning that he’s ticklish and he yelps every time she does it. 
In his van on the way home, after not being able to keep their hands off each other most of the night, they have to so he can focus on the road. 
“Does this make us more than friends?” She wonders aloud, hoping he had the same worry. 
He nods, “I’d hope so… but if you want me to ask, I can?” 
He holds her hand in the middle of the centre console again, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently. 
“What if I want to do it?” She teases. “I want to make you my boyfriend, I’ve thought about it for years.” 
“That’s crazy,” he can’t believe it, shaking his head as he drives a bit faster, wanting to be home with her so bad. 
“Why?” She sounds so defeated. 
“I never thought you liked me, I thought you were just really smiley… you could’ve been mine this whole time,” he explains just how crazy it was for him. In a very good way. 
“I can’t even imagine having a boyfriend in high school,” she admits. 
He slows down when he enters the trailer park, follows the poorly plowed path towards his own trailer and parks. Finally turning to her again with a smile, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before either, it’s all really new to me too.” 
“Was that your first kiss too?” She whispers, scared that it wasn’t. 
She was right. 
He shakes his head, “Cheryl Lenetti in grade 7… she liked to pet my head when we made out, she said my hair felt like a seal pup when it was shaved. So fuckin weird.” 
It makes her laugh a bit, “I can’t imagine it short…” 
“I’ve got pictures,” he assures her, “Wayne’s kept all my life well documented. He likes to tease me and say that he’ll sell the embarrassing ones to the tabloids when my band blows up.” 
“I need to see them,” she agrees and lets go of his hand finally, reaching for her door but once again, Eddie rushes out to beat her to it like a bat out of hell. 
She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, taking his hand again once outside and carefully treating through the lightly shovelled snow leading up to his trailer. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, leaving her to kick off her boots and awkwardly stand in his main room. It’s a lot more put together than the last time he visited. like he planned to invite her over, so it was clean this time. 
“You want anything to eat?” 
She shakes her head, “no… honestly I’m too nervous to eat anything right now.” 
“Oh, why?” He moves into her space, hands on her shoulders, slipping down her arms while pulling her in closer. 
“You’re handsome and you want to kiss me and I have no idea what I’m doing and— and,” she stops with a sigh and a shrug. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with so much affection his smile makes his cheeks hurt. His eyes glisten back at her, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, amazed that she likes him back this much. “You don’t need to be nervous, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop liking you at this point.” 
She takes the plunge this time, she presses her lips against his, holding his waist she wraps her arms around his back and holds him there. He’s shocked at first and then he settles, hand coming up to cup her face as he kisses back. She’s not completely sure what she’s doing, but she’s seen enough movies to imitate what she’s seen. He smiles into the 4th or 5th peck she presses to his lips and pulls back. 
“Do you want to go sit down?” 
“Like in your room?” 
“If you want?” 
She nods, cautious as ever but she wants to spend the whole night kissing him. He walks her down the hallway, into his dark room where he flicks on his side table lamp to show off his perfectly made bed and clean-ish room. “Welcome back,” he teases. 
“You planned this,” she calls him out. “Did you know you were going to kiss me at work today?”
“Not at all,” he assures her, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Legs spread so she could stand between them, and she brushes her hands through his hair while he looks up at her. “I was going to ask you to come over, yeah, but kissing you was a surprise to me too… I like you so much it’s fucking crazy.” 
“I like you just as much,” she leans in, bumping their noses together with a smile. “You want to teach me how to make out?” 
He laughs, scooting up to the head of the bed, resting against the headrest, “you want to lie down or sit in my lap, or what?” 
“Um,” she bites her lip, deciding to be daring, she kneels on the bed and straddles his lap. “This is good, right?” 
“Absolutely,” he rests his hands on her hips, smoothing his thumbs over the fabric of her pants. “I just want you to be comfortable, princess.” 
She rests her forearms on his shoulders, hands in his hair, and she brushes his bangs out of his face to get a good look in his eyes. His big beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she loves so fucking much. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 
He shakes his head lightly, “no…”
“There,” she smiles. “You get my first kiss and I get to tell you how pretty you are—
“You can have all my other firsts too,” he whispers, selling his soul to her in the way he stares at her. She knows he’s giving all of himself to her at that moment. “You can have all of me.” 
“I— I uh, I think we can start with kissing,” she frightens right up again. 
“Sorry,” he runs his hands up her back gently, “I’m not expecting anything… I just wanted you to know there’s a lot I haven’t done with anyone either, I’m just as new to this. We’re on the same level.” 
“Not yet,” she finally leans in for another kiss, holding his face in her hands to keep herself steady more than anything.
He licks at her bottom lip, it’s strange but she follows his lead, coming back in with an open mouth their tongues touch for a moment and then he sucks on her tongue. Again and again, they both come back in, exploring each other's mouths while his hands trail up and down her back and she plays with his hair once again. 
She doesn’t mean to grind against him, but her hips take over like they have a mind of their own as the pace and rhythm are set with through tongues. He moans into her mouth, pulling back with a shade of embarrassment painted across his cheeks. “sorry…” 
“It’s fine,” she’s a little breathless, so enamoured with him. 
He stares back at her fondly, taking in how cute she looked with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, he smiles, “you’re good at this…” 
“Feels like it,” she teases, making him think she can feel how hard he’s getting under her and he panics. 
“You don’t have to sit on me if it’s uncomfortable, I did’t mean to—
“To what?” 
“Get hard…” he whispers, “it’s embarrassing.”
“Oh,” she hovers and looks down between them, more turned on, herself, than she realized, as well. “Oh.”
Maybe I am ready to do this…
She settles back down against him and shakes her head, “no, I’m not uncomfortable… it— it’s nice to know I did that, actually.” 
“Can I just—“ he reaches between them and adjusts himself because it was a bit uncomfortable for him, he was hanging to the left and thats where her thigh was rested, and now he’s right under her… “sorry, it hurt a bit.” 
“Sorry,” her cheeks heat up, she can feel his girth through his jeans, she has to fight every single urge not to grind down against him again, but she knows it would feel good. 
For both of them. 
“It’s okay, kiss me again?” He begs, pulling her closer. 
Their lips collide again but with much more passion and need this time, knowing what she’s doing a bit better, she’s all over him this round. Biting his lip, making him whine, tugging on his hair, she grinds against him again, not so by accident because his hands on his hips help glide her over himself perfectly. She does it again this time, he gasps into the kiss and rests his forehead against hers as she does it again and again, dragging her hot core over his aching, clothed, cock. There’s so much friction from their jeans, they feel like total fucking teenagers dry humping in his bed like they can’t get enough of each other. 
He kisses her jaw and down her neck, he sucks on her pulse point which makes her moan, it's so sweet and sexy that his cock twitches under his jeans in response. She feels it and whines, wanting more from him but not knowing what… it feels so fucking good she wants to just say fuck it and let him take her right here and now, but she’s still scared. 
She grinds down a bit harder, the seam of her pants rubbing against her clit just right. “Oh my god,” she’s so out of breath, it feels too good. 
“I’m gonna cum in my jeans if you keep this up,” he warns her, breathing against her neck between kisses. 
“Me too,” she assures him, doing it again and again, she tugs on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, wanting to be kissing him when it happens. 
His hips come up to meet hers, his hands on her ass this time so he can help her press against him as hard as she can each time she grinds down against him. Her legs tremble a bit, his breathing sputters, and they’re a completely sweaty mess with too many clothes on. 
She feels the all too familiar heat build in her stomach and spread throughout her body as she cums with a long drawn-out sigh, which ends more like a moan as he finishes underneath her. His grip on her ass tightens, and he groans deeply as his hips sputter under her, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath, eyes still closed. 
She feels so weightless and free, resting her head on his shoulder instead and cuddling into his chest. “Oh my god?” 
His chest still rising and falling heavily, he laughs slightly, “wasn’t expecting that.” 
“Me either…” she sighs, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But I liked it.” 
“Me too,” he can’t help but smile. His hands roam all over her back, holding her close and soaking up the moment as long as he can. “You wanna stay here tonight?” 
She nods against him, not at all ready to leave his side. “I would love to.” 
Slowly but surely, they get up, he lets her use the bathroom first, giving her some boxers of his and a t-shirt to wear when she comes back out. He changes quickly in his room, hiding all the evidence of what happened in his dirty laundry hamper. He matches her in a new pair of underwear and the same shirt from before, smiling when she comes back into his room with her things in her hands. She rests them on his dresser, she’d have to wear them again tomorrow when she goes home. 
“You’re so cute in my things,” he compliments her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her forehead a few times. 
“Thanks,” she giggles, completely blown away still that this is all real and he’s her’s and it’s happening. 
They get into bed, and she snuggles into him the same way he did with her just last week with the lord of the rings. It’s cute, it feels right, and she feels at home in his arms. He runs his hands over her back. He kisses the top of her head a few times, she plays with the hem of his shirt in her hands and eventually slips her hands under his shirt to play with the slight dusting of hair on his tummy. They’re so content together it’s like they’ve always been this close. 
And they always would be too. 
part two
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @eddiemunson-rp @squishyturtle 
Eddie
@fightingdragonswithwho @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @blairscott @princesseddie 
@idkidknemore @eddiethesexy
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ageingfangirl2 · 6 months
Text
Welcome Home! Shanks (OPLA)
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You only see Shanks once a year, and when you do you like to take care of him. Shanks x Female Reader fluff :) You wanted more Shanks so here he is!
SHANKS
'Captain we're here!' Yasopp calls out, knocking on my quarter's door.
After spending a year at sea it was always nice to come back to Prisluake, a small island we'd discovered by chance. It became known as The Lake of the Princesses because the town revolved around a lake and there were lots of attractive women which being a pirate crew meant some good times.
Everyone on the island was friendly, there were places to restock the ship and plenty of good food and drink. But there was one extraordinary person I insisted on coming back to see even if I had to use the guise of restocking the ship as an excuse.
y/n owned a small place just off the docks that had some of the best fish dishes I and my crew had ever tasted, but it wasn't just the food that drew me in three years ago. y/n had a twinkle in their eye that lit up when I told them stories, a warm smile that put everyone at ease and a friendly demeanour that made you want to be around them.
I let out a yawn, we'd had some rough weather on the way here so sleep had become almost impossible, but that wouldn't stop me from reuniting with y/n. I pick up a wooden box containing a gift for y/n and head out of my quarters. Even though y/n had never left their island they were obsessed with maps and compasses, so I made sure to get them a new compass each time we came through.
I didn't need to tell the crew what to do, we were a well-oiled machine, so I left them to their own devices and headed off the ship. The first thing I noticed was the closed sign on y/n's place, then again it was still the morning and they didn't open until the afternoon so I'd find them at their house.
Before I can even knock on the front door it swings open revealing a very happy and beautiful y/n, 'I thought you were due yesterday, welcome back.'
Another yawn escapes my lips, 'rough seas. Were you worried about me?'
y/n blushes slightly and shakes their head, 'No...you can take care of yourself Shanks...come inside...'
I walk inside and place the wooden box down, only to have y/n throw themselves at me and kiss me on the lips. For a second tiredness leaves me and I fully embrace y/n, keeping my arm around their waist to secure them and kissing back with equal neediness.
y/n pulls back, 'How long are you here for?'
I rest my forehead against theirs, 'we don't have anywhere to be so short while, why?'
y/n smirks, 'Good, because if I'm being honest you look like hell in the nicest way possible, so all this can wait a day.'
Now those were not the words I expected to come out of y/n's lips but I can't help but throw my head back and laugh. y/n was warm and friendly, but had a sharp tongue and wasn't afraid to speak their mind which made being around them just that bit more exciting.
'Thanks. Then I'm going to bed, and you're coming with me.'
y/n shakes their head and pats my hair, 'No. You should have a bath first.'
This was a priceless interaction, and I can't help but continue laughing as I carry y/n towards their bathroom, 'okay, but if I pass out and drown, that's on you.'
y/n must have got word the ship was coming because the bath was already run. I place them down and they start undressing me, being gentle around my lost arm because I was still getting used to it even though the incident with Luffy was over a year ago. When I first came back to y/n they fawned over me and I'd be lying if I didn't like the attention, and knew they were special when they kissed the scarred stub and called me brave. After a couple of drinks, they called me stupid but went back to lavishing me with praise.
I slip into the warm water and y/n comes up behind me and kneels down, 'you treat me well y/n,' I say, in more of a whisper, letting the water soothe my aching muscles.
y/n hums, 'Everyone needs a little TLC Shanks.'
I close my eyes as they start to wash my hair, and let out a sigh of contentment when y/n massages my scalp. After they are done I open my eyes and turn my head to meet their eyes, 'you really are special to me y/n.'
y/n's smile reaches their eyes, and despite my dripping wet hair, I bring up my hand to cup their chin and kiss them tenderly on the lips. y/n's cheeks were a bright shade of red as I moved my thumb over their cheek in a caress, 'God you've got me hooked captain.'
After some more soft kisses, y/n washed my whole body, and if I wasn't in awe and tired I might just have pulled y/n into the tub with me to feel more of their touch on my body. But they said earlier we had time to do that, but right now I was at ease being taken care of.
y/n helps me out of the tub, but before they can get a towel on me I scoop them up in arms and march out of the bathroom with a squirming and giggling y/n in my arms, '...stop Shanks...' y/n slaps my bare chest.'
We enter the bedroom and I put y/n down on the end of the bed, their now damp clothes clinging to them, 'see I stopped.'
y/n rolls their eyes and gets off the bed, 'You're one a kind Shanks. Now get yourself in bed,' they demand but sound playful.
y/n pulls the sheets back and I put my hand on my chest, 'how am I meant to sleep with you talking dirty?' I joke.
I climb into the bed and am surprised when y/n joins me, pulling the sheet over the two of us, 'I'll stay until you're asleep. Then when you wake up I'll cook you a nice meal and you can do whatever you want to me. Deal?'
I pull y/n against my chest and smirk, 'You drive a hard bargain but you have a deal.'
It wasn't until I shut my eyes and felt y/n tracing lines across my chest that the full weight of tiredness took over. I guess I could sleep for a couple of hours.
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obxone · 10 months
Text
Your Terms, Not Mine
Edited-ish. ~2k words.
Warning: NSFW - do not read if you are underage!
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“Don’t I know it?” You giggle at Sarah’s remark about a group of kooks checking you both out. “They’ll never approach,” you state as you sink into the couch on the lower-level patio. “Too scared.”
“Who?” Topper asks as he sits beside you and pulls Sarah onto his lap. 
You roll your eyes at how she blushes and hooks her arm around his shoulders. “Mommy’s proudest,” you mutter and glance when the other seat next to you fills with Kelce. “Hey, Kelce.”
“Hey Pretty Girl,” he leans in pecking your cheek. “What are you complaining about, huh? You’re hot, it’s summer, and you got me.”
You laugh and shove at his chest before he can hook his arm around your waist. “Kelce! My answer is still no.”
He laughs before shaking his head. “One day…”
“One day,” you relent, knowing he will not drop it if you do not. He grins before slouching back against the couch. The signature solo cup is in his hand as he sips his mixed drink. His hand trails down your back and you shift away from his touch. “Where is your third?” You ask. You had only seen him once when you had first arrived and a pretty blonde had been batting her eyelashes at him while he served her coke.  
“Right here, Baby. I knew you missed me.” Rafe mocks and leans over the back of the couch to look at you. You scoff and roll your eyes at his confidence. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ve only got eyes for you.”
“Whatever, Rafe. We all know where these two are,” you say hiking your thumb at Kelce and then Topper. “You aren’t far.”
“Don’t be an ass, Rafe,” Sarah mutters to her big brother. 
He shrugs, sitting in the lone armchair. His feet kick up on the patio table. Those piercing blue eyes stay locked on your face before flickering to where Kelce touches you again. His jaw clenches and you have to look away, aware that he would snap Kelce's wrist in a heartbeat if you asked him. 
You swat Kelce's hand away before standing and grabbing your phone from the table. You ignore the sting spreading through you at Rafe's casual teasing after your last conversation. The promise you made to him repeats in your head. A promise you regretted more than you should.
“I’ll be back.” You look at Sarah and she acknowledges you with a smile around the rim of her cup. You pass through the crowds and slip into the half bathroom that is surprisingly empty. You lift yourself onto the counter and cross your legs as you hit dial. The phone rings twice before he picks it up. 
“Hello?”
“How quickly can I get a restock?” You ask. 
He laughs. “Hello to you too, Cupcake.”
“Don’t fuck with me JJ,” you mutter, closing your eyes for a moment. “How soon?”
“Tonight. Do you have the cash?”
“You know I do.” You can imagine the smirk on his face at having you calling him for the fourth time this week. 
“You are running through it pretty fast there, Princess.”
“Life sucks, weed doesn’t.”
He laughs and you laugh as well. “Meet me at the Point?”
“One hour,” you respond. “Just you, okay?”
“Done. Bring the cash.”
You hang up right as the door opens and you look up to see Rafe. He smirks and closes the door before leaning back against it. “What are you doing in here?”
You shrug. “Phone call.”
His eyebrows raise as he watches you. You ignore the unspoken question as you lock your phone. He moves quickly, his hand wrapping around the device before he has it, and slips it into his shorts pocket. “Are you going to ignore me all night?”
You smirk at him, biting your lip for a moment. “You seemed pretty cozy with that blonde.”
“Jealous?”
“Hardly,” you mutter, knocking his hand away when he reaches for the button on your shorts. “We agreed we were done, Rafe. I promised that I would never let you touch me like that again.”
“I lied when I said I was done.”
You frown at him before shaking your head. “I’m not doing this. You're only acting like this because of Kelc."
"So fucking what?" He mutters, glaring at you. "He doesn't get to touch you like that."
"No one but you can, right?" You ask, tipping your head as you stare at him. "But then it is only on your terms, not mine?"
He smirks. "You know you want it as much as I do."
"Maybe," you admit, clasping your fingers around the rim of the counter. "I'm leaving soon, so you can hook up with whoever. Can I have my phone back?”
He smirks and reaches for the button on your shorts again as he crowds into your space. “You want me to give you your phone back? Make me.”
That need to feel his body against yours, to feel him inside of you, and to hear your name falling from his lips spreads through you. But he cannot know that, it gives him too much power to know that. You roll your eyes before you check to make sure the lock on the bathroom door is in place. You look up at him through your lashes as you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it up over your head and toss it away. “One more time.”
“Fuck, I’ll never get over these.” Rafe practically foams at the mouth at the sight of your breasts. His hands are greedy as he touches you and dips his head to kiss you. You kiss him back, your hands moving up his abs, over his chest, and to his shoulders. Your legs hook around him to pull him closer. He moans into the kiss before you move to his throat. Your hands tug his shirt off of him before tossing it to join yours on the floor. 
“We don’t have all night,” you murmur when his mouth makes the trek down the curve of your neck as he unclasps your bra and tosses it.
He grins against your skin. “Stay quiet this time.”
“I’m not the one that had Kelce pounding on his bathroom door last week, was I?” You smirk biting your lip as he pulls you to the edge of the counter. You reach for his shorts and make quick work to unbutton them and shove them down along with his underwear. His hands snake under your skirt to finding you bare.
“Shit!” He breathes before kissing you hungrily. “No panties?”
You shrug, tipping your head back as he wraps his hand around your throat. His thumb brushes the rim of your chin. “I had hope.”
“Fuck, Baby, you’re too good to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his teeth nipping at your lobe as you stroke him. He grunts, his hips moving forward to meet you stroke for stroke. His eyes squeeze shut and his bottom lip catches between his teeth. You watch him memorized as he nearly falls apart at your touch. “Get down, turn around,” he instructs when you release him after bringing him to the edge. “I want you to watch me.”
Your lips part and he grins before kissing you as he helps you slip down to the floor. He spins you, pinning your hips against the counter as he lifts your skirt up. “So pretty,” he hums before bringing his palm down harshly.
You gasp, hand gripping the edge of the sink.
“And all mine.” He practically growls as he sinks into you. 
You would never adjust to his size, and he knows it as your walls squeeze him, sucking him deeper. He groans, his head dropping to press against your shoulder as he buries himself into you. 
He rolls his hips, and you moan louder than you intend to and he immediately clasps his hand over your mouth, glancing at the door behind him. No one knocks or makes any move to come in. 
“Quiet, Baby!” He hisses and you nod before he removes his hand. He wraps his hand around your hair and tightens his hold until you gasp loudly. You watch your reflections and he watches you. His ocean blue eyes focused on your face as you take it all in. The way his body fits against yours, the push and pull between you, the rosy color on your cheeks as your lips part and you try not to cry out. 
Lewd noises fill the small space and you reach back, your nails biting at his thighs as he fucks into you over and over. Rafe moving inside of you while you watch him grip your hair consumes you until you orgasm around him. Your body shaking as he continues to fuck you. He lets your hair go and wraps his hand around your throat to lift you off the counter. The image shifts to show more of you and less of him as he fucks you relentlessly.
His other hand brushes your thighs as he grunts with each thrust. His fingers find your clit and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out. He smirks, watching you fall apart again within minutes as the sight and feel of him touching you intensify the heat spreading through you. He groans your name as he spills inside of you. His mouth is on yours as you take every drop of him. 
You stay that way until he is sure you have every drop of him. He nudges his nose against yours before pecking your forehead. 
"Never let Kelce touch you like that again."
"Yes, sir."
The most lethal smirk you had ever seen crosses his features as he steps back to pull his shorts back up. His hand patting your hip. “You did good, Princess.”
You smile hesitantly as your body throbs with the aftershocks of two orgasms. Your hands plant against the marble counter to keep yourself steady. He watches you, pride swelling in his chest at how spent you are. 
“Phone?” You whisper, lifting your head to look at his reflection in the mirror. 
While digging in his pocket, he smirks before he places your phone on the counter beside you. You stand up and smooth your skirt down as you try to ignore the trembling in your legs and the afterbite of the counter’s edge against your hips. Rafe retrieves your bra and both of your shirts. 
You clasp your bra back on and meet his gaze in the mirror once more. “Next time you want to fuck me again, Rafe, just ask,” you whisper. You spin and peck his lips. “You don't need Kelce as an excuse. I’ve never turned you down, have I?”
He smirks, his large hand sliding around your waist before he backs you up against the wall. His mouth is on yours and you groan, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. He smirks before moving down your neck again. His lips brush the bruising mark he has left, a mark to show you are taken and you both know it. 
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Baby. My Druthers.”
You nod once, unable to tell him no yet again. He pulls his shirt on before he taps your chin with his knuckle. 
“Wear something pretty.”
The door closes and you huff, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your lips are red and swollen, your neck and chest are littered with love bites, and your hair screams I was just fucked within an inch of my life. You could not walk back to your friends and continue for another few hours with Rafe’s marks all over your skin and his cum inside of you.
‘Changed my mind. Meet me in fifteen.’ You hit send on the text and three bubbles pop up before disappearing briefly. 
They appear again. ‘See you soon.’
(Part 2)
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roxxiies · 2 months
Text
HUH, JEALOUS? I'M NOT!
× 📄
PAIRINGS : FREDRINN + READER & AAMON + READER
NOTES : CW: little suggestive and marking w aamon, no actual smut. killing if you squint in fred’s part. jealous men hihi. enjoy!!
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× FREDRINN
It was the time when you and your husband had to restock your fridge, and you went along with your husband just to solely get yourself those oatmeals. In your hand, you have two boxes. You can't figure out the specific one your husband always buys you with. You sighed, there's no use of comparing if he's not here. Seconds later, you gave up and put the boxes back to its shelf, but suddenly another person took one box you had held before.
The stranger in front of you smiled, “This oats is actually healthier compared to the other. And believe me, these oats are to die for! Try it out!” The stranger, adorned with short red hair, spoke. He must have realized he was talking too much as he slowly retrieved the box. “Sorry... I mean, I'm not like, it's just...”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Fredrinn went in between you two and took the box from the stranger's hand and observed it, “Aren't you allergic to this type of oats, love? I remember the day when you were so dramatic about dying.”
You gasp, your face flushed at remembering that embarrassing moment that he had to bring up. You playfully slapped him on his arm as he chuckled at your behaviour. He then raised a familiar oatmeal box (which may be the reason he was gone for so long).
“This one,” he carefully placed the box of oatmeal gluten-free on your cart. “is specifically for my wife.” unintentionally putting emphasis on the wife.
He undeniably took the sign that you were taken as he stood there sweating and awkward behind Fredrinn’s muscular form.
Fredrinn, who gave you a kiss before you walked out to get your items checked out, finally turned to the unfortunate man behind him. His seemingly happy aura still remained, although now a bit... scary.
“The next time you plan on hitting on someone's wife, at least be kind not to kill them with your lies, hm?”
To your husband's delight, you were happy once you arrived in his car. Though to your surprise, he was already there and... appeared with faint scratches. You questioned him but he brushed it off, “Don’t worry too much, love. I just took care of a nosy cat—he won't go down without a fight! Haha.”
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× AAMON
Thanks to your roamer, the battle had ended earlier than expected. You praised him with his great reflexes and great response to allies who needed aid. Your roamer was obviously relishing in your praises, much to your boyfriend's liking.
They decided that the team should celebrate victor by the nearby tavern. Everyone recklessly chugged down glasses of beer as the place lit up with laughter. While chugging another one, in the corner of your eye, you saw a dark figure that quickly vanished. You brushed it off, thinking the liquor has gotten to your system.
A few minutes later, you excused yourself as you needed to use the bathroom. Though before you could enter, a pair of strong arms pulled you. But it didn't make you panic—oh no, maybe you were used to this pair of arms pulling you.
“Y’think I wouldn't notice, huh?” He whispers in a low tone. His back was on the wall while yours was on his neck as he tightens his hold on your waist. “You were giving that bastard a lot of attention, it's as if he amused you or something.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his false accusation and tried to speak, but with his right hand, he grabbed your face and kissed you, wait what were you thinking before?
Aamon carefully lifted you to sit on the bathroom’s countertop and presumed to kiss you even deeper. From the force, your back hits the cold surface of the mirror making you gasp and he grabs the chance to make your tongues collide. You whined, you cursed the liquor you drank earlier taking its toll. It's making your body unbearably hot, begging him to at least do something!
“Say what you want, princess,” He took a look at you and stared at your glistening eyes as his hands remained cradling your hips. You were about to speak but someone knocked—
“(Y/N)? Are you there? Everyone’s waiting for you back there.”
“Ah! Y-yes of course. Tell them to not worry, I just need a few...” you turned to look at your boyfriend but only met by his annoyed gaze waiting for you to answer, “...just need a few more minutes.”
By the time you got back to the table, your body was still weak from the previous session as the team asked what took you so long. You groaned and fixed your collar, “Sorry, it's nothing...” if they didn't notice the marks.
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roxxiies © likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
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punkshort · 7 months
Text
Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, language
Chapter Twelve
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Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak
AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)
Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters
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February 2004
Des Moines, IA
You gripped your knife tightly in your fist, the blade pointed towards the ground as you crouched silently forward, choosing your steps very carefully. About 5 feet away from the runner, you stupidly stepped on a piece of glass you didn't notice embedded on the thin carpet. The runner whipped around with a scream, lunging towards you snapping its teeth in the air. You sidestepped it at the last minute, kicking and making it fall face first onto the ground. You jumped on its back and jammed your knife deep into its skull, blood dripping down to absorb into the floor as you panted heavily.
"What the hell was that?!" Joel yelled, whipping the back door open. You felt the cold blast of air hit you, even from all the way across the restaurant. You tugged on your knife, removing it from the runner's head and wiped it on the back of its shirt before putting the knife back on your hip.
"There was one left, must've missed it," you called back to him, brushing yourself off and walking towards the back of the room.
"Shit, I swore I got 'em all. You good?" He said, looking you over with his flashlight as you approached. You held up your hand to your eyes to block the beam of light.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I fucked up," you said, lowering your hand when he aimed his light down, satisfied you were not harmed. "I stepped on some glass, had to get creative. You think we can stay here the night? I think these cushions come off the booths. Not sure we can find any extra blankets here, though."
"We can put on layers, we've been through worse," Joel said, already yanking on some of the booth cushions, pulling a few out on the floor to sleep on.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then check the kitchen. I'll be right back," you dropped your pack on the ground and strolled off towards the women’s room in the corner. Once you were done, you stared at yourself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, shocked to see how different you looked. You hadn't seen a mirror in several weeks. Your face looked more hollow, you definitely had lost some weight. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail you typically kept, realizing that it was the longest you’ve seen it since you were little. You tried running your fingers through it to manage it a bit, but it seemed hopeless. You gathered your hair back behind your head and slid the hair-tie over it once again.
You didn't find much left in the restaurant kitchen, which was a huge disappointment. You were running low on food, having walked through thick forests and then open prairies for the past two weeks, not coming across any shelters to raid. Joel had purposely redirected you to this city in the hopes of restocking your food supplies and taking a short break from sleeping in the freezing cold wilderness. Luckily, your bow and arrows proved very useful, and kept the two of you fed when you had barely anything else to survive. Joel had never used a bow before yours, so you had taught him the basics from what you could remember. He seemed to have a knack for survival. He caught on very quickly and soon became better with it than you.
You sighed as you opened the last cupboard door, finding it just as empty as the rest. You were about to close it when a colorful wrapper caught your eye, shoved all the way in the back behind some pots. You reached your arm in as far as it could go, your fingertips barely grazing the item before you managed to pull it forward a smidge and grab it. You could have cried you were so happy with what you found.
“Joel!” you called out as you walked back into the dining room, heading towards the small lit up area he made for the two of you and your sleeping bag already rolled out on your cushion. “You’ll never believe what I found!”
He turned around from adjusting his own sleeping bag. He immediately spotted the jar in your hand and groaned. “Peanut butter!” he exclaimed with relief, “Fuck yes.” He sat down on his cushion to dig out the spoons from your packs. You both ate in silence, enjoying eating something other than rabbit or squirrel for the first time in weeks. You still had some provisions in your packs that lasted you about a week after you left Chicago, but as you traveled more out west, the options became limited, and the weather slowed you down significantly, causing you to eat through a lot of your food. You had become dependent on the wildlife for sustenance, and you got lucky, but it was getting old.
Joel had been kind enough to bury your parents before you moved on. He didn’t want you to have to help carry their bodies, so he had to make do with burying them where they were killed. He found a broken shovel about half a mile down the road in an abandoned mechanic’s shop, and it took him the rest of the day, but he made sure they were taken care of. He even found some large rocks to mark their graves. He was worried about you for a long time after that. You were distant and didn’t speak much. He didn't know what to do, other than giving you space and time to process your grief, while taking on as many of the responsibilities he could to keep you both alive. He insisted on being the one to hunt as often as possible. He sought out as many safe places indoors to set up camp as he could, even if it meant wasting half the day’s sunlight, he would sacrifice it so you would be more comfortable. He stayed in those places a day or two longer than he wanted, just so you could possibly sleep a little more soundly. It hardly mattered anyway: he wasn’t convinced he would ever find Tommy, or even if he was still alive. There didn’t seem to be much rush to your journey anymore, but it gave you something to fight for, so he kept pushing forward.
Then, one day, he did something to make you laugh. He couldn't even remember what it was, but hearing the sound made him desperate to make you do it again. So, the next day, he tried telling you a shitty joke, and you laughed again. Every time he heard it, he felt his chest loosen and his breathing eased. You seemed like yourself again, but he could tell the deaths of your parents changed you. You became more hardened, more focused, and angrier at the world around you. He noticed the way you took down infected with such ferocity, such disdain. It used to bother you, but now you could kill one without blinking an eye. He knew it was foolish to expect your innocence to remain intact, but every night he still wished he could somehow shield you from it all.
Somewhat full, you laid down on your cushion and wrapped yourself in your sleeping bag, exhaling softly and closing your eyes. Joel gazed at you a little longer than he should have before he leaned over to turn the lanterns off. Tomorrow, he knew you would have to venture back out into the cold and find some more food. He had hoped this restaurant would have had more than enough, but someone before him must have thought the same thing. He turned his head to glance over at you again in the darkness, listening to your steady breathing. He still ached for you, desperately. He hoped he didn't read the signals wrong that morning in your bedroom - there was no way he could have - but the more time that passed, the more unsure of himself he became. He was so close. So close to tasting you again, holding you in his arms, protecting you from the evil surrounding you.
He stared up at the ceiling and focused on falling asleep. He needed to be alert and well rested so you could finally find some food and get back on the road.
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The two of you were walking down the street the next morning after having eaten the rest of the peanut butter and not much else. This part of town seemed to be abandoned by people, but you did come across a few infected. Most of the time, you heard them clamoring about in a closed up building you passed, but a few did cross your path that you had to take down. Joel had a theory that the infected slowed down in the colder months, that maybe they went dormant, or it was just harder for them to move. Whatever the reason, he seemed to be right. Even when you did come across one, they seemed a lot slower, making your job much easier.
As you made your way towards the end of the road, the houses and trees cleared and you could see further ahead, smiling when you saw a familiar logo. You turned to Joel, who seemed to notice it, too.
"I don't think I've ever been so excited to see a Walmart before," you said, smiling in his direction. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's a big store, we gotta be real careful. Ain't no way we can clear the whole place by ourselves," he told you as you entered the parking lot. "Gotta stay close together and be silent. No guns. Let's just stick to the grocery section, take what we need, and get the hell out." You nodded, looking at the building as you approached it from the outside, trying to listen for any noise coming from within. Joel put his hand out on your arm to stop you, making you twist around and giving him a confused look.
"I mean it," he said, looking serious. "Could be a whole hoard in there. And it'll be dark. It's risky."
"I know, I'll be careful, I promise," you gave him a look just as serious to prove you were paying attention. His eyes shifted back and forth between yours before nodding his head in the direction of the store.
You both stepped quietly inside the store through the broken sliding door, clicking on your flashlights and looking at your surroundings before making a move. Your attention went up to the signs hanging above the aisles, spotting the grocery section was straight ahead past the cash registers. The two of you crept forward, careful not to step on anything that would give away your position. You walked through the bakery, surrounded by moldy bread. So far, the place seemed quiet, but that didn't necessarily mean it was empty.
The store was reasonably picked over but there were a few things left on the shelves you could use. You packed your bag with rice, chicken broth, a few cans of dented soup, and a jar of pasta sauce. For the sake of being extra quiet, you motioned with your finger for Joel to step forward, and you stretched to whisper in his ear.
"We should check out the stock room," you said quietly, your breath tickling his neck. It wasn't the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded and suppressed the urge to shudder. He picked up his bag and led you to the end of the aisle, looking both ways before leading you to the swinging doors on the wall. Joel held out a hand for you to stay put while he pushed the door open a crack, sweeping his flashlight across the room. It had aisles, just like the store, but it wasn't as neatly organized. Once he confirmed it was safe, you both entered, scanning the shelves to pinpoint where the groceries were stocked. Your flashlight landed on a corner of the room where you recognized boxes of crackers and cans of vegetables. You nudged him with your elbow, and you both made your way over, checking down every aisle before advancing.
Your jaw dropped at the amount of food that was left. Someone had the same idea as you, it wasn't fully stocked, but it was much more well stocked than the shelves out front. You hurriedly packed your bags with as many useful items as you could carry. You were so hungry, but you had to resist the urge to rip into anything right then and there, afraid the noise of a wrapper would possibly draw attention.
You were just finishing up when Joel wandered towards the end of the aisle, his flashlight settling on something shiny the next aisle over. He squinted and bent down to get a closer look through the shelves. By the time he realized he was looking at blood pooling around a dead clicker, it was too late. A pair of arms reached out behind him, yanking him backwards. A hand covered his mouth and an arm squeezed around his neck, making his vision go fuzzy. His eyes shot over to you in a panic. You were still crouching over your backpacks, facing away from him, and zipping them closed. He brought his hands up and laced them together before driving his elbow behind him, hitting the man right in the diaphragm. The grip on his throat instantly loosened and the man doubled over coughing. You whipped around now, your knife already in your hand. You watched as Joel brought his knee up to the man's face twice, blood bursting from his mouth and nose, staining Joel's pants. Joel drove his knife into the man's eye, his body twitching before slumping on the floor at his feet.
Joel looked up just in time to see you dodging the knife of a second man, kicking him in the groin before shoving your knife between his ribs. He ran down the aisle to you, hearing the man's raspy breaths as blood filled his lungs. You pulled your knife out and stabbed him again, this time closer to the heart. The raspy breathing stopped, and his body relaxed against the linoleum floor. Joel sighed in relief, slowing his pace, his heart pounding.
Then he felt something hard hit the back of his head, causing him to fall forward, his vision narrowing as he fought the urge to pass out. Joel felt the heavy boot of his attacker sticking to his back as he tried to push himself up, but his head was swimming, and he couldn't find the strength. He collapsed back on the floor with a grunt, blinking his eyes frantically trying to clear his vision. He was struggling to breathe with the weight of the man's foot pressed on his back, and once again raised himself up to try and roll over when the pressure on his back was suddenly gone. He gasped for breath, pulling himself into a seated position and shaking his head wildly, his vision finally clearing.
You had tackled and pinned Joel's attacker on the ground, sitting on his chest as you struggled with his knife between the two of you, the blade pointed downwards towards his throat as you gritted your teeth and pushed down with everything you had. His feet kicked wildly underneath you, trying to roll you off, but you weren't budging, your eyes burning into his as the blade scratched at his throat. Joel stumbled to his feet, still dizzy, as he struggled to make his way towards you. With a loud grunt, you put all your weight onto the hilt of the knife, lifting off his chest and finally piercing through his skin until you could feel the tip of the knife make contact with the linoleum. He laid underneath you gurgling as blood poured from his neck, his eyes wild with fear. You panted heavily, letting your muscles relax after the strenuous fight. With your weight off his chest, the man was able to grab a second knife you hadn't noticed from his belt and stabbed frantically at your side, which you tried to swat away before his arm grew weak and he stopped breathing.
Joel's arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the dead man, turning you around to look at you closer with his flashlight. Your face was splattered with blood, your hair wild, covered with sweat and still gasping for air. He aimed his flashlight lower and noticed a big red circle of blood staining the side of your t-shirt. His breath caught in his throat and the adrenaline sharpened his vision as he lifted your shirt up gingerly. You winced when the fabric peeled away from your skin, not realizing you had been hurt until that moment.
"Oh, fuck," Joel whispered and his breathing picked up as he glanced around for something to stop the bleeding. You had been stabbed along your ribs and down your side. He couldn't tell how deep the wound was in the dark, but it was enough to cause you to bleed heavily. He grabbed a used rag from his jeans pocket, pressing on your wound firmly, making you cry out in pain. He wrapped your hands over the rag and instructed you to press as hard as you could. He ran back to grab your packs, slinging both backpacks, the rifle and the bow over his shoulder. When you saw him trying to pull everything onto his back, you held your hand out to him.
"Give me my pack," you rasped. He shook his head, still trying to find a way to carry it all. "Give it to me!" you raised your voice in a harsh whisper now, giving him a look that meant were serious. He relented, gently putting the straps over your shoulders, then pulling out a new rag to wedge between your side wound and the strap of your backpack.
You leaned on Joel as he led you out of the back room, pausing briefly to make sure there weren’t any others, then headed back towards the front door. It began snowing while you were inside, and the wind was picking up, making it difficult to see. He looked around, desperately trying to find a safe place to take you.
Across the street he could make out a strip mall, and one of the buildings looked like it was a dentist's office. It was a long walk across the big parking lot, but he moved as fast as he could while you leaned on him for support. He propped you up against the building to catch your breath as he used his knife to work the lock of the office open.
"Stay here," he instructed. You nodded weakly; your eyes half closed. He pushed the door open and checked to make sure the small office was empty of threats before taking you inside. He helped you sit down in one of the exam chairs, pushing it back so it reclined. You stared up at the ceiling and at the lamp dangling over your face. Joel pushed the curtains open in the room and looked down at the wound on your ribs, noticing the amount of blood increased due to the walk across the street: it was now trailing down past your hips and nearly touching your mid-thigh. He took the soiled rag from your hand and replaced it with a fresh one while he went to work ripping open drawers and cabinets. He finally found a needle and thread and a stack of stainless-steel bowls. He set the needle aside and picked up some of the bowls.
"You keep pressin' as hard as you can, you hear me?" he said, and you nodded as you draped your other arm across your eyes. "I gotta go out and get some snow, I'll be back in a minute. You holler if you need anythin'."
Joel stepped out the door with the bowls in his hand, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. He scooped up snow into the bowls, grateful it had begun to storm since it would hide your tracks and keep any raiders away.
He came back into the room and saw you had nearly bled through another rag. He set a couple bowls aside to melt into drinkable water and took a handful from another, pressing it against your wound. You hissed at the contact, but after a minute the numbness from the cold made your muscles relax.
Joel dug around in his pack to find some rubbing alcohol he had taken from your apartment months ago. He found another clean rag to drench the alcohol in and removed the snow from your side.
“I ain’t gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt. You need to hold onto somethin’?” he asked you, trying to hide the tremor in his hand. You shook your head, turning your face away from him and gripped the arm of the chair anyway. He pressed the alcohol-soaked rag onto the stab wound, finally cleaning some of the blood away to get a better look at what he was dealing with. You groaned and your body tensed, but you remained as still as possible while he cleaned you up. He could see a stab wound between two of your ribs. It didn’t look very deep, but it was wide. He made his way down your side, cleaning the blood up as he went with the snow and then the rag, refreshing it with alcohol when he needed to. There was a longer gash down the length of your side, maybe about five inches long. It was wide, but it was shallow. There were a few other scratches as well, but those would be fine to heal on their own. He gauged the main problem would be the wound between your ribs, and the long gash.
He turned around to prep the needle, filling a bowl with some rubbing alcohol and pulled out more rags. Turning back to you, he was startled to find you looking at him. He swallowed, bringing the needle and black thread towards you.
“Are you ready?” he asked you, and you nodded steadily, but he could see the fear in your eyes. He laid a hand on top of one of yours reassuringly. “I got this, I got you,” he said. You turned away from him then, staring at the wall opposite you as you braced for the pain. The first few times he pierced you with the needle hurt the most, then as you got used to the pain and knew what to expect, it got a little easier to handle. He took his time with the stab wound, he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to redo that later, then let you have a break before starting on the long gash. He told you it would only need a few stitches, just where the wound was the widest so it wouldn’t scar too badly. That part ended up hurting the most since it was closer to the bones of your ribs and there was less fat to cushion the pain.
Once the stitches were done, he rinsed everything with the rubbing alcohol from the bowl, his hands and needle included. He made a mental note to keep that needle in his pack in case one of you got hurt again.
“You hungry?” Joel asked you, and you nodded eagerly but then winced at the pain the movement caused. He dug around in his pack for some of the food you had grabbed from Walmart and set you up with a few things to eat, then went to explore the rest of the office in hopes of finding some medicine. He got lucky in the dentist’s actual office, finding a few bottles of antibiotics and some pain killers in his desk drawer. He made sure you took two antibiotics with your food before finding something to eat for himself. He sat hunched over against the wall in the room, looking down at his food and avoiding eye contact. You adjusted yourself in the chair so you could look at him and let out a whimper when the movement was too much. He shot up to help you, but you waved him off.
“What’s going on?” you asked him directly, staring him down. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with grief and anger.
“This was my fault,” he said bluntly, a clipped tone to his voice.  “I wasn’t payin’ attention, I should’ve seen that guy comin’, and it got you hurt. If somethin’ worse woulda happened, I never would’ve forgiven myself,” his voice broke at the end of his sentence, looking away from you so you couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault. We got jumped, don't beat yourself up about it. Please," you told him, trying to catch his eye again but failing. "Joel?" you said, but he turned away, rubbing his hands up and down his face like he always does when he's frustrated. "Joel!" you called out again, this time more firmly. He stilled, and slowly turned to face you, dropping his hands to his sides.
"Us or them," you said, staring intently at him, desperately trying to communicate the words you couldn't say.
He let out a shaky sigh, and nodded, breaking eye contact with you and gazed out the window at the snow fall. "Shoulda been me," he said quietly.
"Yeah, well," you grunted as you struggled to sit up in the chair, "I'm glad it wasn't because I couldn't carry all our stuff and you out of there," he turned his head to look back at you, then giving him a smirk, added, "I would've left you for dead."
His lips twitched as he tried to hold back his grin at your joke, not ready to forgive himself yet. He cleared his throat and leaned over to sling your backpacks over his shoulders.
"The dentist had a couch in his office. C'mon, grab my shoulder, lean on me," he said, bending forward so you could get yourself into a standing position. It took a few tries; the pain was worse than you had expected now that you were moving. You slowly ambled down the hall with Joel, and he got you stretched out on the couch before he unzipped your sleeping bag and rested it on top of you like a blanket.
He rolled his own sleeping bag out on the floor next to you, grateful the couch came with two pillows. It had been a long time since either of you slept on one. It was still daylight out, but the blizzard made it darker outside. Joel let you rest while he went around the office to see if there was anything else of use now that he wasn't so frantic. He had completely missed the small break room towards the back of the building. He found some unopened bottles of water, snacks, a couple cans of soup and crackers. He spread all the usable food out on the table but brought the crackers back with him to check on you. You were still laying stiffly on the couch and staring at a stock photo of a beach on the wall, looking uncomfortable.
"Are you in pain? I got some pills from the drawer," Joel dug out the bottle and read the warning label. "They sound pretty strong." You shook your head, not wanting to dull your senses in case of another attack, but now that the stiffness was setting in, the pain was getting worse. You glanced out the window, seeing the storm outside. Deciding it was unlikely anyone would be out in the snow and find you, you changed your mind and stuck your hand out to him. He dropped two pills into your hand and gave you a water bottle.
"Here, have a little somethin’ more to eat with those, don't need you gettin' sick," he said, offering the crackers in your direction. You took the sleeve from him and munched on one slowly as you waited for the pills to kick in. Joel walked around to the desk and collapsed into the leather chair, kicking his feet up on the desktop and mindlessly flipped through open patient charts left on the desk. You shoved another cracker in your mouth and watched the snow coming down outside. You sat up a little more on the couch. The movement made you feel dizzy from the pills, but you hardly felt a thing at your side when you moved. Your eyes drifted lazily to Joel’s broad figure sitting behind the wooden desk. It brought back memories you hadn’t thought about in months. Memories of a different time, when you would sit on the other side of his desk all flustered and nervous.
He looked up and caught you staring at him. “What?” he asked, a bemused expression on his face. You shook your head but couldn’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. Goddamn pills.
“Nothing, it’s just funny…” you started, trailing off and then giggled, causing Joel to raise his eyebrows and grin.
“Those pills must be workin’, huh?” he asked, his grin widening. You nodded, stifling your giggles and took a deep breath.
“I was just thinking, everyone used to be so scared of you in the office, they would warn me to steer clear of you, that you had a horrible temper. And look at us now,” you let out another giggle before continuing. “What the hell happened?”
He smiled at you again and tipped his head back on the top of the leather chair to look up towards the ceiling, remembering life the way it was before.
“Yeah, I was an asshole, wasn’t I?” he said, making you laugh harder now, then you clutched your side with a small wince. “Hey, take it easy, you might not feel anythin’ but you can still pop a stitch.” You quieted your laughter now, knowing he was right, and chewed the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, reminiscing about those days just 6 short months ago. Joel rolled his head to the side to look at you. “I didn’t scare you, though,” he said quietly, not sure why he was encouraging you while you were in this state.
You glanced back at him and shook your head, then held up one finger. “Only once,” you said definitively.
He stared at you and held his breath. He knew exactly what you were referring to: the argument the two of you had that was never brought up again. The day he called you a whore and ruined everything. He was the first to look away, casting his gaze back down on the desk before him. He should have apologized by now, he should have explained himself, but he always found an excuse to avoid it. Today’s excuse was you were too loopy on the pain pills and that conversation needed to happen when you both had a clear head. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you waited for him to say something. Anything to take back what he said. 
“I think you should get some sleep,” he finally told you, dropping his hand and looking up at you. You knew he was going to avoid talking about it, but you were still disappointed. The pills had really taken effect now as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You sighed, scooting down to lay flat on the couch and pulling your sleeping bag over you. You closed your eyes but couldn’t resist saying one more thing.
“I would do anything for you,” you whispered before nodding off. Joel’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as he tried to hold back the tears that unexpectedly sprung to his eyes.
“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, but you were already asleep.
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The storm let up after another day, which was just as well since it allowed you more time to heal. Joel didn’t want to stay long at this place, worried that the attackers had a larger group and would come looking for you. Once the snow stopped and you had replenished your backpacks with more rags, first aid, and the food from the break room, you were off at first light. You both realized quickly that you were making terrible time since the snow was knee deep and you were already struggling to stay balanced due to your injury. After a very slow mile, Joel had found a sturdy fallen branch for you that he broke down into a more manageable size, allowing you to use it like a cane in the snow. You had to admit that it made traveling a lot easier, but you were still fighting to hide the throbbing pain at your side. After another hour, Joel agreed to let you rest. He made sure you took your antibiotic and ate some more crackers. Your feet felt numb, even though you had 3 pairs of socks and thick hiking boots.
"Joel," you whined, looking up at him standing guard as he surveyed the thick forest around you. "How much longer are we going to walk? This snow is so deep, and my side is killing me."
"I gotta find us somewhere safe, then we can stay there til you're all healed up and we'll wait out the rest of winter, I promise," he said, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze, "I'm gonna take care of you."
You sighed and regretted complaining almost immediately. You could tell he was still beating himself up over how you got injured and you didn't want to keep reminding him of it. He was shouldering too many responsibilities and you could see the worry and anxiety behind his eyes.
"Alright, let's get moving, I'm good," you said, using your stick to pull yourself back up into a standing position. Joel glanced over you once more to make sure you were, in fact, 'good' like you claimed. Satisfied, he turned and led you through the woods. The trees were thick, mostly pine trees that kept all their needles in the winter. It was good to keep you hidden but it was also bad because it could keep someone else hidden, too.
After another few miles, Joel paused a moment to examine his map. He had a general idea where you were, but he didn’t exactly have a destination in mind. He just figured he would know it when he saw it, and it turned out, he was right.
His head was down examining the map in his hands as he walked through the forest and approaching a clearing. Now he wasn’t sure he knew where you were, since the location on the map still showed greenery up ahead. He was mumbling to himself about getting turned around when you gasped, and his head shot up.
You had stumbled across a small neighborhood of about ten or twelve houses, all surrounded by the lush forest you had just hiked through. He had to blink a few times, feeling like he was looking at an oasis in the desert. As you approached the neighborhood, you passed a sign that read 'Hidden Springs - lots starting at $200,000'.
"Man, they really knew what they were doing when they named this place," you joked as you walked side by side down the abandoned street. The houses were all finished except for three which were partially constructed, forever frozen in time.
"This must be a new neighborhood, that's why it ain't showing up on the map," Joel said excitedly as he spun around to make sure you were still alone. "I haven't seen any tracks or smoke or nothin', this place is off the grid," he turned to smile at you. "We can work with this."
You grinned happily, so relieved to finally have found a place where you could rest for more than a couple nights.
"Well, which house d'you want?" Joel asked, looking at all the houses up and down. They were mostly two-story houses, but there were a couple of small ranch homes interspersed. You spotted one in the middle of the neighborhood on your right-hand side and pointed to it. it was a white two-story house with blue shutters and a red door.
"I've always wanted a wraparound porch," you said. "What do you think?" He couldn't keep the smile off his face, the whole place seemed too good to be true and best of all, you would be happy and safe.
He made his way up the front porch to peer inside the windows. He didn't see any movement, and fortunately it looked like the previous owners had a chance to move in, spotting the fully furnished living room. He had insisted on making you wait outside until he could be certain the place was abandoned before letting you in. The house was beautiful and practically brand new. You drifted from room to room to get a feel for the layout: the stairs and a hallway leading to the kitchen faced you right as you walked in the front door, a living room to your right and a den to your left, and a half bath attached to the hallway. The kitchen had a small mudroom attached, which led to the backyard. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom was the only room that had windows facing the front of the house, so you chose to stay in that room, both of you slipping into the king size bed without even questioning if you should sleep apart.
Chapter Thirteen
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Taglist: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777
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leclerced · 27 days
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Sending Lando to buy pads. And his ADHD brain ofc doesn’t register what type of them his girl wants so decides that he’ll go for the typical rom-com move and buy lots of them so he comes back with like 30 packs of pads and she just stares at him defeated
(I think Oscar would know what his girl likes and always have it him. Always restocks for her)
i saw a video the other day and i dont wanna find it but its SO lando. gf asked bf to buy her pads with wings and he brought back pads and wings. like hot wings. that’s him u cannot tell me otherwise.
lando’s gf asks him to buy her pads with wings, so he buys pads and wings in various flavors bc she didn’t specify which. he’s really confused when she tells him he got the wrong ones, and that she didn’t want wings. she has to pull up a photo and explain to him what she wanted. there’s like 36 wings and at least a total of 300 pads on the counter. he bought a lot of panty liners and a few boxes of pads without wings. he goes back and buys the correct ones bc he feels so bad and donates the wrong ones to a women’s shelter after gf suggests it bc she won’t use them.
oscar keeps pads and tampons under his bathroom sink even when he’s single and it shocks every woman who goes over. he’s been accused of having a girlfriend before because why else would a grown man living on his own have those in his bathroom? but he’s just like, “well, i have sisters n a mom who visit, so yeah, you’re not the only woman in my life. only romantic one, yes, but not the only one.” its so humbling for her bc she really thought the worst of him. he even learns which ones his girl prefers and keeps them stocked, and even has a stash of sweets and such for her. unconsciously tracks his girls period and restocks the bathroom and snack stash before each one.
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red-pill-to-swallow · 6 months
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Doing your part in a relationship
Hey babes,
it’s Monday – a new, fresh week and the ultimate opportunity to make some changes.
I don’t know why it feels so much better to start a new routine on a Monday than it does on a random Wednesday.
I took some time after I posted my last two posts and really thought about the relationship dynamic between my man and me.
I thought about changes that I would like to make and what could help us to become a better couple.
Honestly, I was pretty shocked after all my thinking because it turns out that my man is the rock in this relationship and I am not sure why he is still sticking around when he could probably do so much better.
But let me explain:
I gave up working in my full-time job around January 2023 and have been home ever since then.
My man was aware that I was totally burned out from my job and offered me that I could stay at home and take care of the household chores.
Previously we used to split the chores around the house roughly 50/50. It was very fair and in some weeks he did more than me and some weeks I did more than him, like it’s in every relationship.
I would say that I am fairly good at housekeeping. I know how to cook, how to clean and how to do laundry.
However – I never before was responsible for everything. From going grocery shopping and planning meals to cleaning the bathrooms every week – suddenly all of this was on me.
I struggle really bad with organizing myself, this was one of the reasons why I was so burned out from my previous job, and I started slacking.
I would do the laundry one day and take three days before I started folding it. My man literally had no underwear one time and flipped out because that’s obviously disgusting and instead of improving – I started to get mad at him.
It wasn’t only the laundry, it also began affecting my cooking – which I loved doing before – and I would start making only frozen meals or just serving cold meat cuts with bread.
We started fighting a lot more because my man was sad, that instead of relaxing at home he would need to help me with my chores – after a full workday.
I had my epiphany a few weeks ago (when I made this blog) and realized that my man has every right to be mad at me. He does his job. I am not.
So, let’s see – my man works really though hours. He leaves the house early in the morning and comes home in the early evening. He’s usually stressed because his job is very demanding and he is responsible for a lot of people.
Imagine coming home to your girlfriend, who’s staying at home, and almost nothing is done. The fridge isn’t restocked, the floor is dirty and there is no food. After your shower you realize that you have no fresh underwear because your girlfriend didn’t wash any.
I would flip out too.
My behavior was/is borderline disrespectful and I am honestly ashamed because of it. I would have broken up with me if I was him.
But here we are – still together and I don’t plan on dodging this second chance.
I think many girls that want the lifestyle of a spoiled girlfriend or a stay at home girlfriend don’t realize how hard it is to organize a whole household on your own.
Yes, there might be some men out there that are so rich that they don’t mind employing staff to help around the house, but I don’t think that this is achievable for a woman in her twenties without having various high value connections in the right circles. At least I don’t have those connections.
I am responsible for keeping the house clean, making food and going grocery shopping. That takes maybe 5 hours of my day and the rest of the time I can do whatever I want.
My man only wants to come home to a clean, organized house with a stocked fridge and possibly a hot meal on the stove.
Honestly – he is the one that is working his ass off every day, not me.
The worst is, that I even started to neglect my appearance. I used to shave every second day and that slowly progressed to only once a week. I used to color my hair religiously and worked out at least three times a week.
Now I haven’t touched up my hair in over three months, my roots are disgusting and I am very ashamed because of it. I mean, even though my man pays for my beauty appointments – I couldn’t get my ass up.
However, I cleaned our whole house today. From the bottom to the top. It’s spotless. I did laundry and went grocery shopping and I made a plan on how to maintain all of those things.
I won’t share the plan just yet because I want to make sure that I can actually follow it before I share it with you.
What should you take with you after reading this rant?
Be careful that you’re always a responsible partner. Don’t be like me. If you’re telling your partner that you plan on doing something – actually follow through and do it. Don’t disappoint them all the time.
Make sure that you acknowledge what they do for you and thank them for it every once in a while.
It is unattractive to be lazy and not being able to keep up with your standards. It’s unfair to your partner to let yourself go and they have every right to be upset about it.
Think before you speak and start an argument. Are you really right? Is it worth to start an argument about something that is your responsibility?
I mean, my man made it clear in the beginning: If I want to stay at home and live a cozy life – I have to take care of the house while he works and provides for us both.
He does his part of the agreement. Every single day.
I’ve only done my part of the agreement when I felt like it and that is not okay. But I am changing and I know that he has already forgiven me for all the hassle.
See you soon
157 notes · View notes
quillsareswords · 1 year
Text
Soft as Snow
DAMIAN WAYNE X READER
SUMMARY: You and Damian finally get to enjoy a Chistmas in your new home.
A/N: Merry late Christmas and happy holidays! I meant to do a writing week along side this, but things got kind of crazy. This was actually part of a Secret Santa I participated in with some other writers here on Tumblr! I drew @unmotivatedwrit3r! Hope you like it bb :)
Other participants: @citrinesparkles @birdy-bat-writes @glorified-red
WARNINGS: language
MASTER LIST in BIO
DECEMBER 5TH
   He hadn't expected you home until this evening, but your shoes are sitting beside the landing table, beneath the coat hooks, when he gets home. "Beloved?" he calls, hanging his peacoat beside yours.
   "Kitchen!"
   He follows the sound of your voice down the entry hall. He habitually glances into the living room on his way past. Your canvas shopping totes are set on the coffee table, shades of red and green peeking out from inside. He recalls you commenting this morning that you'd stop for groceries on your way home. He should've expected this.
   You're standing in front of the coffee machine when he rounds the doorway. In front of you, stacks of mugs. You smile brightly at him. "Hey! You're home early."
   He peers into the cupboard as he sidles up beside you. You've pulled every mug from the shelves; all shapes and sizes spread and stacked between the wall and the edge of the counter. He hadn't realized there were so many. "So are you."
   You shrug, setting the last of them—a white mug with some vulgar phrase written in cursive—among the rest. "I finished up sooner than I thought, so I got groceries."
   He snakes an arm around your waist, rolls his eyes knowingly. "Let me guess: you went to get groceries, but got distracted and walked away with a new collection of trinkets."
   A wry smile. You reach into the closest bag. A red, green, and white monstrosity spotted in flat black deer outlines. "Christmas mugs don't count as trinkets. Obviously."
   He hums mocking agreeance. "Right. Of course not, dearest." He glances over his shoulder for emphasis, "I assume those are also definitely not trinkets?"
   You smile brightly. "Nope. They're Christmas decorations. Definitely essential."
DECEMBER 11TH
   He tries so hard not to wake you. You'd been busy all day, then gone to bed late because you wanted to see him off for his nightly patrol. You idiot.
   It's not like he doesn't appreciate it. His night always starts off on the wrong foot when he doesn't get a kiss from you beforehand. (It's just bad luck, at this point.) Even so, it's not a good enough reason for you to stay up.
   He won't argue about it again. He won the argument about you waiting up for him to get back; he doesn't like his odds for getting you to bed at a decent time.
   He sneaks around the house carefully, guided only by the light of the Christmas tree and the night lights always glowing in the hallways. He pins his arm to his chest and swerves through the living room, the kitchen. If not getting blood on your carpet was a sport, he'd win the Olympics. Between you and Alfred, he's pretty sure he could get stabbed and leave no evidence in an entirely white room.
   Luckily, it's only a few minor cuts that are dribbling crimson through his suit. All he needs is a few butterfly stitches and some bandage for the worse graze on his forearm.
   Unluckily, he realizes a little too late that the First-Aid kit in the kitchen has not yet been restocked. Which means the only fully stocked kit is the big one…in the master bathroom. The one on the other side of his bed. Your bed. Where you're sleeping. Damn it.
   He's a professionally trained assassin. He's a goddamn ninja, literally. He can sneak up on any person, into any building. You have no formal training. He once witnessed you sleep through an actual earthquake. Somehow, he always wakes you up.
   Not this time. This time, he will not wake you up.
   The Christmas lights wound around your potted plants light his way. He picks across the bedroom, around a pile of the day's clothes, across the rug. He steps over a stray Amazon box. Reminds himself to pick it up later. He's four feet from the door. Victory is close at hand.
   "Damian?"
   You're joking. When he turns, you're propping yourself up in bed, scrubbing sleep out of your eye. How! He didn't make a single sound!
   "You gonna take that off before bed, or..?"
   He sighs, tiredly. "I'm not going to bed yet. Go back to sleep, I won't be long." He whispers, still steps lightly, even if there's no point. He steps close, rests the rough palm of his glove on your cheek, and presses his lips against your temple. "I promise. Go to sleep."
   You hum, still half asleep. "What're you doin'?" You reach up absently, always wanting touch, always seeking him out. Your fingers brush up his arm, and then, wide awake– "You're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"
   He shakes his head, smoothing a thumb along your cheekbone. "It's only a cut. Nothing to worry about."
Of course, you won't accept this as an answer. He can't convince you to get back into bed once you clamber out from under the blankets, so he follows you into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bathtub.
You only use the light over sink, leaving the room just light enough to see. The dim lighting echoes the early hours somehow. Neither of you say much, directions aside. It'stoo early for much conversation. You smooth white straps over the minor cuts, a patch on a scrape up his cheek, carefully wind the gause around his arm.
When he's no longer dripping blood on the tile, you go and get a clean set of pajamas while he peels off the uniform and dumps it into the tub. Then, you both shuffle back to the warmth of the bed like moths to flame.
Despite the bandage, his arm is still a comfort when wrapped around you.
DECEMBER 14TH
   "What are you…doing?"
   He looks up from his hands, eyes wide, confused. "I'm– I'm wrapping gifts?"
   You cock your head to one side. You squint. "Oh. That's a box?"
   He blinks once. Twice. "Of course it's a box. What are you talking about?"
   Your face twists like you're not sure if you should laugh or not. "Baby. Look at it."
   He looks back down at the bundle of scotch tape and green wrapping paper. Sure, it doesn't follow every crisp line, and some of those straps of tape are way too long, and when did that corner get torn off? Oh, it's stuck to that piece of tape. Or is that a different corner?
   "Have you ever wrapped a gift before?" You ask slowly, tentatively. You only now realize that maybe you really shouldn't be laughing, if he's never wrapped a present before. He'll take it mockingly, answer defensively, close himself off to save himself the embarrassment.
   His nostrils flare as he stares down at it. "No," he says pointedly. "I don't usually have the time. Pennyworth wrapped them. If I did have time, I used a gift bag."
   You nod, sly little smile working its way across your face. "Makes sense. Is that why everything you give me is small?"
   He blows out a surprised noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He finally looks up at you again. "You've never complained before. We both know I'm awfully skilled with all sorts of things; the size never matters."
   You roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. Do you want me to show you how to wrap it or not?"
   He chuckles, steps aside, gestures that he's made room for you.
   You step in beside him, in front of the dining room table. In typical Damian Wayne fashion, the workspace is perfectly organized; scissors and tape set neatly on your right, a roll of shiny green wrapping paper on your left, the lumpy mystery package in the middle.
   He lays one hand on the table beside the scissors, leans on it, and props his other hand on his hip. "Please, show me the magical ways of gift wrapping."
   So, you do. You carefully salvage what you can, flatten it, trim it, tape it down. You smooth the edges crisp around the Amazon box. You explain it as you go, even though you know he could watch you do it once and copy it step for step.
   He watches you closely. First, your hands. He really did want you to teach him how you get the gifts under the tree to look so nice. But, he's a weak man at heart when anything concerns you. You always get this look on your face when you're working with your hands. It appears when you fold laundry and wash dishes, too. He catches himself looking at you instead of your instructions.
DECEMBER 20TH
   "That is definitely my sweater."
   "No, it isn't." You have a really bad poker face. Your eyes sparkle too much.
   He crosses his arms, mindful of the cut, still tender on the outside of his arm. "I bought that last year. At your suggestion, if memory serves."
   "I don't know what you're talking about." You upend the hot paper bag in your hand, spilling popcorn into a festive plastic bowl. "This was in my closet."
   "We share a closet."
   You wave your hand dismissively. "Potato, pa-tot-oh." You sprinkle on some salt and hold the bowl out for him.
   He takes it in one hand and waits for the next item. "I don't mind. You know I don't. I do wish you would admit that it's mine."
   You scoff, dumping a box of holiday chocolates into a matching bowl. "Why on earth would I do that?"
   He doesn't answer right away, waits until you glance over at him. "Because I like it when you wear my clothes."
   Your facade washes away under the tides of a grin you can't contain. You turn away instead, pretending to put all your focus on the candy bowl.
   He and his stupid sweet face. He shouldn't be allowed to wear sweaters or smile like that. He smiles at you all the time, much to your joy, but every once in a great while, when the mood catches him right, he gives you this world-healing, puppy-yipping, kitten-soft smile that makes you feel like you're floating. It should be illegal. He should at least give you a warning.
   You decide the fluttering in your chest is a little too much for two o'clock in the afternoon, snowstorm or not, so you change the subject. "What movie should we start with?"
   He takes the cue, he lets you do it; but he keeps staring at you like you like you're the only thing in the house worth looking at. "You decide. You're the better judge."
DECEMBER 25th
   It's been twenty-two minutes since you woke up. You've been killing time, between your phone and the morning newscast on the television across from the bed, but now you're getting suspicious.
   He'd been far too excited for any man who wakes up before sunrise. Christmas Day could be an exception, you suppose—fathers and guardians springing out of bed to watch their children rip open gifts. But Damian? You've never seen him so lit up before lunch.
   Stay in bed, he'd said, the moment you rolled over for a kiss. You did get one, but he leapt out of bed so soon after that you wondered if you should be offended. You should probably explain that be right back usually doesn't mean a half-hour.
   At minute thirty, you debating going and checking on him. You can hear noise, if you strain your hearing over the news anchor. Sizzling? Clanking, definitely. Clinking.
   Footsteps in the hallway. The door knob rattles. Alfred the Cat perks up by your feet. Muffled swearing. Not in English, but you know the tone.
   "Do you…want help?"
   "No," he replies quickly. "Stay in bed."
   You prop yourself up against the pillows and cross your arms. "Don't have to tell me twice."
   There's a long pause behind the bedroom door, before the knob turns and the door swings open. You're pretty sure you see a socked foot reel back out of sight.
   And then, he appears. Despite the brightly colored fleece pajama pants that match the shirt you slept in, he's still all poise and grace with a tray in his hands. He looks awfully proud of himself, like a cat prancing around with a fat mouse in its mouth, green eyes glittering.
   You laugh incredulously. "What is that?"
   He practically struts around to your side of the bed, sets the tray across your lap. "Breakfast, my darling."
   Sure enough, there's enough food to feed you, he, the cat, and the news anchor. Two mugs of coffee, a stack of Christmas tree shaped pancakes, a platter of scrambled eggs, and a bowl of fruit-chunk-filled yogurt.
   He takes your stunned silence as an opportunity to crawl over your legs and settle back down on his side of the bed.
   "What– Why?" You're still laughing, grinning ear to ear. "I mean, this looks delicious, but why?"
   He's smiling, too. "Well," he sighs, "I knew you were excited about Christmas, especially for dinner." Dinner, which was supposed to be held at Wayne Manor tonight, but had to be canceled to accommodate the weather, which decided to cover every side-street in two feet of snow and every major road in ice. "So I decided to…make up for it, I suppose."
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Note
Winter king X GN reader who struggles with body heat and taking care of themselves (ie: good hydration or has fainting tendencies)
I think a lot of the stuff from my previous headcanons still apply, and I recommend those if you haven’t read them. Everything I’ve added here is for the reader who has so much body heat to the point that they sweat a lot and suffer from heat exhaustion super easily. If that isn’t what you meant anon, feel free to send another ask or message me!
Warnings: Mentions of fainting, sweating, and general hyperthermia. Also, mentions of getting kidnapped by Candy Queen.
• The first time he notices that you have symptoms of any kind of hyperthermia in front of him, it concerns him, especially if you’re in the Winter Kingdom. He obviously never has these symptoms now. He may have while he was adventuring as Simon, but that was so long ago.
• Even if you tell him that you have those issues, he brushes it off while you’re in the Winter Kingdom. He’d be more vigilant about it if you were outside of his Kingdom, but he assumes that the Winter Kingdom is too cold for it to be an issue.
• However, while most of the Winter Kingdom is freezing, some areas are just comfortable, staying at around 60-70 degrees Fahrenheit. If you overexert yourself, you could still get hot. This doesn’t even occur to him though, and it could take him a minute to notice your symptoms.
• When he does notice your symptoms, he calmly ices the area around you and gets you to stop whatever you’re doing. He’ll use his magic to get you some water, but he’ll send his scouts for something with electrolytes, like a Gatorade or Pedialyte (or Ooo equivalent). If he must, he finds the closest doctor that could help you.
• After this, he’s a lot more vigilant with your needs.
• He keeps the Kingdom stocked (or encourages the shop owners in the Kingdom to be stocked) with whatever electrolyte-filled drinks you like.
• While you’re outside of the Kingdom, he makes sure to bring electrolyte-filled drinks and maybe some water and a cooler for when he’s not around.
• I also think he’d be the type to get you one of those water bottles with measurements on the side. The scouts fill it for you in the morning, and he’s stuck stickers next to the measurements that get progressively happier as it empties.
• Honestly, he’d probably make an extra ice scout whose whole job is just to watch you and make sure you take care of yourself and don’t pass out.
• Additionally, the Candy Queen tends to kidnap the Winter King’s partners, but once she’s aware of your condition, she’d also give you what you need in your cell. She’s like the Ice King; as long as she doesn’t have a grudge against you, she doesn’t want you to die or anything. She just doesn’t want you getting in the way of her pursuit of the Winter King.
• To be honest, if you’ve ever fainted in front of the Winter King or had any serious symptoms in front of him, he’ll treat you the same even if you have mild symptoms. He just doesn’t want it to get to that point.
• He makes sure you stretch often and don’t sit too long. That’s not too hard for him anyways because he’d drag you along the Kingdom all the time even without your condition.
• If you do need to stretch, he’s happy to let you lean on him or use him for balance; he doesn’t want you to lean on anything icy so you don’t slip.
• You might be embarrassed about talking about it, but if you sweat a lot, he makes sure you always have clean clothes ready as well as anything you need for hygiene. Any deodorants, perfumes, soaps, etc. Is in your bathroom and restocked often.
• Despite feeling a little worried about your symptoms, the main thing he feels is relief that you’ve met him. Who else could take such great care of you? It fulfills some purpose for him. Sure, he feels useful and capable because of the many things he does around his Kingdom and Ooo, but being able to help you makes him feel useful in a way that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
105 notes · View notes
eywascall · 8 months
Text
CUPID’S BAKERY
pairing: (runaways) sully brothers x (baker) female!reader
warning: modern au, all characters are aged up, slight mention of homelessness, and not proofread
word count: 839
DNI/BYF
— taglist 💘: @kachowness, @mashiromochi, @yeosxxx, @thesheelfsworld, @fanboyluvr, @jakesully-sbabygirl, @ryosuku, @person-120, @flowery-letters, @aonungs-tsahik, @honeydanny, @aerangi, @lululemon1111, @minkyungseokie, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @goodiesinthecloset21, @philiasoul, @teyamsbitch, @talia-the-gemini, @neteyamforlife, @azaleaniath, @laylasbunbunny, @ilovejakesullysdick, @jjkclub, @avatar4life, @crazyforteyam, @ratchetprime211, @hc-geralt-23, @liluvtojineteyam, @oceanstar19, @shima707, @starboyloak, @johfaam
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This entire week has been offering nothing but gloomy days, today was no different than yesterday’s. Large thick gray clouds shower heavily on everything below them. Before the enormous downpour, people hastily pulled out their umbrellas to stay dry. Cars had their windshield wipers turned on to ensure the safety of their drive. Though the only detail that the people walking on the streets and the people in their cars have in common is that they are strictly minding their own business. For different circumstances, sometimes it’s better that way, other times, not so much. It all just depends on who's around and how they’ll act.
As for you, you're in your bakery happily restocking some baked goods on the cute pink shelves. Once they were full, you brought the extras to the back. Then you returned to your position behind the counter. While you look out the enormous store front window, you couldn’t help feeling saddened by those two guys across the street. They sat on the street without anything covering them even while the rain poured. All they had was an old singular ripped blanket around them. Their clothes seemed to be torn up. Their hair was a mess. Dirt was covering both their hands and faces. They’re shivering very badly yet no one wants to help them. People just rather mindlessly walk or drive past them as if they were invisible. It was extremely disheartening to watch.
Your mother’s and grandmother’s voices come to mind as you remember their life motto. “Feed the unfortunate. No matter where you’re at in life, always lift those that need it.” That’s what they repeated several times in your early youth, and you wanted to continue that tradition. Without much thought, you grabbed your wide umbrella as you crossed the street slowly. The brothers hadn’t even noticed you till they felt the rain stop on top. “You guys can get sick. Come to my bakery, at least you’ll be dry there.” You spoke softly as the brothers exchanged curious glares at one another. Nevertheless to your delight, they followed you.
They took a seat at the furthest back table with rainwater dripping down their faces as well as clothes. A few minutes later on you offered them some dry towels which they were very thankful for. “Why don’t you guys wash up, the bathroom’s there. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.” What a kind gesture for you to do for them but it still didn’t stop the oldest to worry. “Wait! Miss, we’re grateful but we don’t have any money on us.” He said sorrowfully. His frown widened as he looked down in shame. But as he spoke, his brother’s stomach roared in hunger. “No worries, it’s on me. I’m the owner so please just make yourselves comfortable.” They wondered if they stumbled across an angel. No one’s ever done something like this for them.
Neteyam washed up first before Lo’ak as they saw you return with some sandwiches and tea. My, was it eye opening to see them devour food that quickly. Lo’ak nearly choked if it weren’t for you patting his back. “T-Thank you!” Lo’ak says as he blushes a bit out of embarrassment. “You're welcome. Now if it’s alright with you guys, may I know your names?” They froze as if they were deer looking at headlights. “I’m Neteyam. And this is my brother, Lo’ak.” They introduced themselves shyly. “Well it’s nice to meet you too, I’m Y/N.” A pretty name two for such an angel they thought in unison. “Seems like the rain is about to stop.” You said as you looked out the window.
“Right, we’ll get out soon.” Neteyam announced nervously. “What? No. You guys can stay here.” The brothers would like to but worried it might make more trouble for you. “Please, just stay. You're not causing any problems. You two are welcomed here.” You were quick to inform them as you saw the hesitation in their eyes. “Why are you helping us?” Lo’ak straightforwardly asked. Your smile brightens as their hearts race, “Because I wanted to help. You two were suffering in the rain, the least I can do is help you guys make it to another do.” Tears welled up in their eyes as they stood up. “C-Can we hug you?” Lo’ak offered.
“Gladly!” You hugged them instead as they let out tears. So many years of facing uncaring cruel people, you were the only person that willingly went out of your way to help them. What more can they ask? “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” They repeated like a broken record player. “It’s no problem. I was happy doing it. At least I know I made a difference in the universe helping you guys. Let me know if you ever need anything else. I want to help.” Again, they’ve truly stumbled across an angel. Cupid must’ve shot two arrows as the brothers were falling hard for you without knowing it just yet.
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wintertidewater · 1 year
Text
A Beginner's Guide to Feminist Action: Independent, Anonymous, and Inexpensive
Stickers
There are wonderful feminist artists who sell stickers, however, the cost of small scale labor and shipping doesn't make it financially favorable for all of us.
Making your own can be as simple as using a pen, paper, and any type of tape. Glue can be a replacement. If you have extra tape, and it is clear, like scotch tape, you can "laminate" your paper to protect it. Hairspray works as well. Both tools can be found at places like Dollar tree if you don't already have one. Benefits of this is that the size and mottos are completely in your control and can be diversified.
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Paper name tag stickers also work and are easy to mass produce with no cutting or adhesive necessary. You can write on them directly and they come on plastic so they're ready to peel like normal stickers. They come in packs of 25 or 50+ and can be found at places like target or walmart.
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If you'd like your sticker to be permanent or are worried about others undoing your work, go back to Dollar Tree and get the small tubes of super glue. Place your laminated paper on a pole, use two small bits of tape to hold it in place, and squeeze out 1/2 to 1 small tube of the glue starting at the top. Once its stuck, take off the two bits of placement tape and apply glue to the full sides as well. This will make it weatherproof and unpeelable.
The goal of public feminist expression is exposure. Accordingly, postings in high traffic areas are more favorable than remote ones. This doesn't have to mean city hall. Parking lots, malls, schools, parks, and intersections are all favorable places. Stickers work well on poles. Placing them above crosswalk buttons ensures viewers.
One advantage of stickers is anonymity. You can quickly apply one and move on without drawing attention to yourself.
Writing
We're all familiar with the cascade of male genitals drawn everywhere. If there is one thing to learn from that, it is that graffiti can be as simple as using a sharpie in a bathroom stall. Sharpies work well on most surfaces. If you feel comfortable stopping somewhere to take the time and write or draw, they make a very cost friendly and effective tool. Thicker permanent markers are better for higher visibility, especially if the message isn't near eye level. Your messages can again be laminated with a layer of super glue.
You can also write with spray paint but assuming you are not experienced with this, it can be an unnecessary risk especially as it is audible and requires a larger surface area.
Posters
Posterboards do not need to be bought. If you've ever worked in a warehouse or at a store, you know just how many hundreds of flat solid pieces of cardboard are chucked everyday. You can approach a store employee to ask, or take a look around in their recycling bin outside. Some stores with long hours begin restocking before closing. At this time, you can simply ask whoever is right there unpacking and you will be allowed access to those trays and boxes. You can use old moving boxes and so on.
A quick and cheap way to complete your posters is to again go to dollar tree. In the school section they have packs of large paper letters with each containing the alphabet thrice. These work as reuseable and readily available stencils. As stencils, once you position them, you can use a can of spray paint, trace them, or even spray it with dyed water to leave your message. Little bits of tape or pebbles on the letters may be necessary if you're using spray paint to ensure they stay in place under the air force. You also can simply tape them on to be permanent however most phrases do not use letters evenly and so more packs (and thus more money) will be needed. Spray paint is available at walmart for $6 a can. I recommend black.
A great place to put posters is on your nearest overpass (or bridge that crosses your busy roadways). Make sure they are on the inside of the fence to avoid the risk of them falling and creating hazards for drivers. You can have two sets of signs for each overpass to cover both sides of traffic.
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This is an example (of which the credit is not owed to me) from a recent roadtrip. The three signs read, "Women", "Liberty", and "Justice" on the Iranian flag. The second set of signs is on the other side of the bridge and its corresponding fence to be visible to the cars on the left side of traffic.
Adherring your posters to the fence well is important due to the winds from cars underneath and on the bridge. Make 4 (or more) holes in your board near but a sturdy distance away from the corners and sides. Rope, twine, wire, and duct tape are possible options to tie it to a chainlink fence. Maybe your sock has a hole in it. use that to tie your poster to a fence. Cut it into strips or use it whole. Point being you do not need to spend money. You can be resourceful as far as your imagination goes.
General
While doing any of these, it is a good idea to wear a mask, hat, and nondescript clothing to protect your identity. Be mindful that that outfit can make you seem more suspicious. You know your own neighborhood best.
If it is safe for you to do so, make use of the cover of night. Depending on the hour of night, even the busiest places will likely be completely empty.
Be wary of cameras. Scouting a place out in a completely different outfit during the daytime is wise to avoid landing up on film. Make note of where the safe places to graffiti are.
For both protection and to look less suspicious, if you have a dog, take her on a walk when you do this. You can also use a baby stroller for a similar reason with the added bonus of it carrying and hiding your supplies.
None of these projects should cost more than a flat fee of $7 for materials which can be used again and again.
Pepper spray and a knife are always recommended. Biking is also favorable. For the most part, you're safe as long as you keep moving when biking.
I hope this helped give you ideas on how you can create a feminist presence in your neighborhood. Good luck and stay safe.
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mkfluffluv · 2 years
Text
Dyed Hair Disaster
STEVEN GRANT X READER , MARC SPECTOR X READER , JAKE LOCKLEY X READER
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prompt : the moon knight boys laugh at you and your horrible attempt at dyeing your hair
hi hi it's me again, this idea popped in my head when i was out shopping and thought of buying some boxed hair dye and then went "nope im gonna mess it up and people are gonna laugh at me." ENJOY!!
likes and reblogs appreciated as always <3
word count : 1,391
warnings : none, this is crack and just funsies all around.
masterlist
It starts as any normal Monday. Steven is the one to wake up this morning since he has the morning shift at the museum. Before, Steven would not have been so excited to get to work. All he did was restock stupid merchandise and stand behind a counter all day after all. But recently, Jake had done...something to Donna that made her change her mind and gave him the tourist job. He won't question it, he's just happy to not have to look at those horrific items anymore.
Steven feels around beside him trying to look for your warm embrace so he can cling to you like a baby koala but frowns when he doesn't find you anywhere. The man blearily opens his eyes, squinting as he adjusts to the glaring light coming from the window. You must already be awake now if the window is open, that is unless Marc had left it open when he came home from patrol but Steven knew Marc would never be that careless.
His eyes dart around the bedroom with half-opened eyes and when he doesn't spot you anywhere, he reluctantly gets out of bed, swaying a bit as he's still not fully awake yet. Steven lets his feet guide him to his usual morning routine all while calling out your name.
When you don't answer after his third call, he starts to get worried. You had told him yesterday that you didn't have work today and even if you were to go out somewhere, you always make sure to put a sticky note on Gus' tank before you do to let him know.
So Steven starts checking the apartment, starting with the kitchen to see if you’d woken up earlier to make breakfast, then the living room in case you were watching the morning news, and then the bedroom again, thinking he would find you hidden somewhere somehow. He doesn’t find you anywhere though and as he feels himself starting to get a bit panicked, he notices in the corner of his eye, the bathroom door ajar where he can see a glimpse of your leg.
Steven lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and knocks once, then twice. When he doesn't hear your voice responding, he just opens the door, not thinking for a second about what you might be doing inside because his panic was really starting to set in.
Now, Steven expected to see many things when he opened the door. But what he didn't expect was to find you staring morbidly at the mirror, your hair covered in blotches of blue mixing with your natural hair color. A video on how to dye hair was playing on your phone that was placed on the sink. The sink that is also covered in a lot of blue hair dye.
When your head snaps sideways to look at him, there is an embarrassed flush to your face. Steven bites his bottom lip, trying his hardest to stifle in a giggle that is bubbling up in his throat. You looked quite silly with your tinted pink cheeks and strangely blue hair.
"If you laugh at me, I swear to god-"
It only took the sight of your angry face and the empty threat for Steven to break into a fit of laughter, clutching at his stomach as he laughs and laughs at the ridiculous situation happening right now. He pretty much doubles over in laughter when you yell at him to stop. God, you looked like a spotted puppy. He tells you this and receives a light slap to the shoulder. He doesn’t stop laughing though, only continues to laugh at you as his panic from before slowly fades away.
It’s just funny to him how this whole time, he’d been frantically searching the apartment from room to room, panicked eyes looking everywhere, thinking something bad had happened to you when all along, you were just hiding in the bathroom, the whole time not responding to Steven because you were stood shocked still because of the sight of your wacky hair in the mirror
"Oh goodness, love, I'm so sorry." He says between small giggles, wiping a single stray tear from his eyes. You don’t respond to him He can hear Marc's quiet voice in his head, telling him to give control just so he can see what's going on that's got Steven so worked up. Oh, Marc would love this.
-
"Oh god, babe, what did you do?" Marc is leaning against you as he loudly dissolves into laughter the minute he sees you and your wildly colored hair. You slap at his arm and yell at him to stop laughing at you already, which only makes him laugh harder. He hears you groan in frustration as he drops down to the ground clutching at his side. God, Marc does not remember the last time he'd felt this amused by something but the sight of you was just too much. He feels a sharp kick to his stomach and looks up to see you looking angry as ever, which would look a lot scarier if your hair didn’t look like some weirdly spotted puffball.
Marc takes one and then two deep breaths to steady himself. He was still a bit giggly when he stands up but holds it in to not upset you anymore. You glare at him, staring daggers into his soul trying to scare him but Marc just cannot take you seriously when you look like that.
Marc grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, forming duck lips on your face. He makes the same expression on his own face and then very briefly presses his duck lips to yours. The silly gesture brings a smile to your face, or well as much a smile as you can make with Marc's hand on your face.
He runs a hand through your unruly and truly terribly dyed hair and lets out another chuckle. To this, you roll your eyes and swat his hand away from your head. "Are you done laughing at me now? Gonna let Jake have a turn at laughing at me?" Marc's face brightens and yours fall. "Oh no. Don't you dare." Luckily for Marc, and unluckily for you, Jake has been waiting to front for a while.
-
When Jake opens his eyes and sees your failed dye job he almost started to laugh hysterically as well but when seeing your genuinely upset, adorable face, he can’t help but only coo and hold your face gently in his hands, with you naturally leaning into it. Steven is right, you do look like a weirdly spotted puppy. He doesn’t tell you that though. The other boys have teased you enough.
“I won’t laugh darling, no need to worry about that.” He gently assures you. You place your hand over his and give him a soft smile. It sends a happy and warm feeling to Jake’s heart and he can’t help but smile back.
“You want help dyeing all this out?” Jake asks you, the hand that isn’t holding your face comes up to touch your hair. You swat his hand away the same way you did to Marc and scoff, crossing your arms on your chest. The missing warmth of your hand and face from his hand makes him pout. You completely ignore him though and walk towards the bedside table where you kept a small box of hair dye the color of your natural hair. Yeah right, as if you would know how to dye that back.
Jake swiftly snatches the box from your hands and orders you to just sit on the bathtub, relax a bit, and let him do the rest. When you deny him like the stubborn one you are, he scoops you up bridal style into his arms and carries you back to the bathroom, carefully avoiding your thrashing hands and legs from kicking or punching him in the face. He then gently sets you down on the empty bathtub where you immediately sag, seemingly accepting your humiliating fate of having your boyfriend fix your mess of a dye job.
He shakes his head at the adorable sight of you and your truly horrible mess of hair and finally gets to work on the hair dye.
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outerspacebisexual · 2 years
Note
Heartbeat was a masterpiece loved it really ! Could you do a Robin x femreader with prompt 41 and 50 where maybe they are close friends but naturally act as a couple but reader is very pretty and Robin thinks she likes steve ? thanks love !
Lost in Translation - Robin Buckley
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Summary: Robin Buckley had been your co-worker and friend for over a year. Too bad you wanted her as so much more.
Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of blood and injury
a/n: i am god and thus i’m changing the timeline to suit my own selfish needs. this takes place while working at scoops ahoy and steve knows robin is gay and events happen in this order because i said so
check out my prompt celebration!
Masterlist
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If someone had told you a year ago that you would be hopelessly in love with your beautiful, strawberry blonde co-worker who you spent most of your time with?
Yeah, you’d probably believe them.
There was just something about Robin that made your heart do somersaults whenever she looked at you for a split second too long. It was the way that you felt when she held your hand when she was excited or scared, and no matter how much you pretended that it didn’t matter, you heart broke every time she let go. The way she threw her head back when she laughed at something you said, making you wish you could be the one to make her laugh for the rest of your life.
You supposed you could, but not in the way you wanted. Not in the way your heart ached for.
“I don’t get it,” Steve said, restocking the candy on the counter. “You both so clearly like each other.”
“Steve,” you said, placing the last of the cones on the shelf. “You know that I appreciate your well-meaning, but often wrong insights. This just so happens to be one of these times.”
Steve scoffed. “I’m never wrong.”
You raised a brow.
“OK, fine. But I’m not wrong about this.”
You sighed and walked back to the counter, dipping your hand into one of the candy jars. “It doesn’t matter, Steve. I’ve been trying to ask her out for months and every single time, something goes wrong. Plus, she very clearly likes Vickie.”
“Oh, come on. She’s only trying to be into Vickie because she doesn’t think you’ll give her the time of day.”
“Whatever you think, Steve.” You grabbed another piece of candy, but Steve grabbed your hand before you could.
“Stop eating the candy.”
“I can do what I want,” you said, reaching into the jar with your other hand.
Steve grabbed it as well and said, “I’m serious.”
“I actually don’t care.”
“You will when you get fired. And who’s losing out then, huh? You won’t be able to sit around and ogle Robin all day. ‘Oh, Robin, can you help me with this? Oh, Robin, you’re so amazing,’” he teased, his voice rising to imitate yours.
Your face scrunched up in disgust. “I don’t sound like that. And I—”
You were cut off when Robin breezed into the store. “Hey guys, what are you—” She stopped short when she spotted you, staring at the two of you. You quickly realized that Steve still had your hands and you pulled them away fast, heat rising to your cheeks.
Robin looked just as great as she normally did, her oversized jacket practically swallowing her. Your heart did one of those somersaults when you noticed that she had tacked the pin you had gotten her for her birthday to the pocket on the front.
You had brought it for her when the two of you had gone to the market one Sunday morning. She had admired it from afar as you two walked, but you made sure to note the stall, and after a well-timed bathroom break excuse, you circled back and bought it.
It was simple, not much, but she had squealed when you gifted it to her a few weeks ago. You’d had no idea what she would use it for, but now you did, and something in your chest warmed at the sight of it.
“Hey, Robin,” you said.
She glanced between the two of you for another second before shaking her head and saying, “Hey, I was going to ask what you were doing tonight?”
You tried to keep your smile casual. “Uh, I’m not busy. Steve?” You shot him a look that said, You’re busy tonight, but he didn’t catch it.
“Yeah, I’m free.”
You wanted to slam your head through the wall.
+
“How can you speak all these languages again?” you asked from where you were leaning on the wall, watching her try and decode the Russian transmission that Dustin had brought to Steve.
“I’m just so incredibly amazing,” she replied, writing another letter on the whiteboard.
She wasn’t wrong. You were in awe as she translated an entire message from a language that she didn’t even speak. She was amazing.
“You’re not wrong,” you said, the corners of your mouth turning up when you noticed the slight flush to her cheeks.
It was hot outside, you tried to rationalize. It was the middle of summer, of course she’d be flushed. It didn’t stop the joy that sparked at the thought that you might have caused it.
A sudden bout of confidence rushed through you, and your leg bounced. “What are you doing this weekend?” You tried to stay casual. You were casual. So casual.
She paused, just for a split second. “I don’t think I’m doing anything,” she said, not turning to you.
You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Cool.”
Now, you thought. Now was the perfect time to ask her. And if she said no, then there were no one there to witness the murder of your heart at point blank range.
You couldn’t take your eyes off her back as you chewed your lip. You were really about to do this.
You could do this.
“Did you want to—”
The doors swung open. “How are we going with the super-secret Russian code?” Steve said as he and Dustin strutted into the room like you hadn’t been just about to ask out the girl of your dreams.
“It’s a transmission, Steve,” Dustin corrected with his usual distain for Steve’s idiocy.
“Oh well, sorry.”
“I can’t believe that you’re still getting it wrong after we were just talking about it. It’s like the lights are on, but there’s nobody home. Seriously, I’m—”
You stopped listening and envisioned a bulldozer crashing straight through the store.
+
Everything hurt.
Your face, your ribs, your stomach. Everything.
You could feel the warm blood rushing down the side of your face from the split in your eyebrow; courtesy of one of the guard’s rings.
You hadn’t seen Robin or Steve since you and him were carted away from Robin into separate rooms for interrogation.
They had tied you down and tried to beat the answers out of you, but you could only tell them the truth, which apparently wasn’t true.
It wasn’t until a few hard punches to your stomach and ribs and a few choicely places ones to your face that they decided they’d had enough. They practically dragged you out of the room and back to where you’d come from.
You tried to hold your head up and searched for Robin and Steve, finally seeing them as the final door was pushed open.
She was leaning over Steve and shouting at the guards. If you weren’t half out of your mind, you would have been grateful that she looked relatively unharmed.
But when she saw you as you were thrown on the ground beside Steve, she practically jumped onto you.
“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you OK?”
The room was spinning, and you couldn’t seem to work out how to move your mouth.
Her hands ran over your head and the side of your body as she dropped to her knees. She turned you over more to see your face, her breath hitching when she saw the blood.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screamed at the guards, who didn’t seem to care as they spoke amongst themselves in Russian. She turned back to you. “Hey, can you hear me? I need you to say something, Y/N, please.”
Your brain was pounding in your skull, and your eyelids began to droop closed to try and block out the light.
“No, please. You’re going to be OK,” she told you. “I’m not doing this without you. Please, stay awake for me, baby. Please.”
She was crying, you realized through your haze. You hated when she cried.
You used every bit of strength in your body to open your eyes wider.
“That’s it, stay with me,” she said. But before you could even try and say anything, she was torn away from you. “Hey, let me go.”
You could only watch as she was tied to a chair, kicking at the guards. Then, Steve was dragged over to the other chair that was placed back-to-back with Robin’s. It wasn’t until guards hoisted you up onto another chair at the side of the room that you even realized you were moving. You didn’t even feel the straps that were wound around you until it pulled tight over your ribs and you groaned in pain.
You were trying your best to stay conscious, and that was the only reason you could think of as to why you weren’t in the middle of the room with your two friends. From where you were, you had a clear view of Robin and half of Steve.
That was when the Russians decided to inject the three of you with something that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie.
Nothing happened at first, but as the minutes dragged by—and an unfortunate escape attempt from Robin and Steve—you started to feel giddy. The pain was dulled to a pulsing, and you lifted your head enough to rest it against the wall behind you.
When the Russians came back into the room, you couldn’t help but notice the doctor in his sinister looking apron and white coat.
“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?” Robin said, eyes not leaving the doctor as he pulled out a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices.
“Let’s try this again, yes?” the commander said. “Who do you work for?”
Steve huffed. “Scoops. Scoops Ahoy.” He and Robin started laughing, and you found yourself starting to giggle. It was little more than air, but it felt like you were laughing just as loud as them.
“How did you find us?”
“Totally by accident,” Steve laughed.
The commander spoke in Russian, and your eyes widened as the doctor picked up a pair of plyers. He moved towards Steve, but the commander cut him off.
“Her,” he said, pointing at you. His eyes went between you and Robin, and a sinking feeling opened up in your gut as he approached you.
The commander’s eyes didn’t leave Robin as the doctor grabbed your hand and began to tug at your fingernail despite you trying your best to wriggle out of the way.
“Wait! Wait!” Robin shouted. “There was a code! We heard a code!”
She visibly relaxed just a fraction as the doctor stepped away from you. You let your head drop forward as you listened to her repeat the code and then her and Steve berate the commander.
You would have been impressed by their composure and confidence if it weren’t for the fact that the three of you were drugged out of your mind.
Then, alarms went off and the pulsing in your head got louder.
And then, Dustin Henderson and Erica Sinclair were bursting through the doors and telling you to run. He undid Robin and Steve first, Erica coming over and untying you. “Hey little Sinclair,” you said. “You know, I think I like you more than your brother right now.”
“Normally, that kind of flattery would be much appreciated, but right now, we have to go,” she said to you, and called for Robin, who immediately started to help you up and through the tunnels to the weird cart-truck thing. The further you got, the steadier you were on your feet.
Whatever this drug was, it was giving you a seriously wicked high.
The time between getting in the elevator and getting to the cinema bathroom was a blur. You vaguely remembered Marty McFly and then drinking a shitload of water until you needed to vomit.
And now, you were curled against the tiled wall after throwing your guts up.
“OK,” Steve said. “We need to know if it’s still in our system. I’ll ask you guys a question.”
You could feel the full effects of your injuries coming back to you, and you tried to stay as still as possible, ignoring Steve and Robin as they started asking dumb questions to each other.
“Hey, Y/N. Are you good?” Robin called from across the bathroom.
“Yeah,” you managed, starting to rub your ribs to try and ease the pain. “I’m good.”
“Do you still feel loopy?”
“I’m not sure.” You weren’t sure of anything other than you would be so fucking sore in the morning.
“Answer the question I just asked.”
“What question?”
She sighed like it was the biggest deal that you hadn’t heard. “Have you ever been in love?”
You froze, stopping your motions as you just stared at the side of the stall, as if you could see all the way through it straight to her.
“Y/N?” Steve called.
You cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah, I have.” You wanted to stop. You wanted to stop your mouth moving, but it was like you had no control over the words spilling from your mouth. “I’ve been in love with the same person for over a year now. I don’t think I realized it was love at first, because we always spend so much time together. We work together and hang out outside of work, too. So, we’re always glued to each other. I’ve tried to get the courage to ask for a date, but something happens every time and I don’t get to.”
There was silence from the other stalls.
“He sounds really special,” Robin said, her voice softer, more dejected.
You swallowed. “Yeah, she is.”
It was like the room became electric as soon as the words left your mouth. There was no way to take them back, not even if you wanted to.
The silence was deafening. Your ears rang as you sat in your confession, trying desperately to keep it together.
But then there was shuffling, and Robin appeared in the doorway of your stall. She was on her knees, holding each side of the door frame to keep herself upright. And she was looking at you like you were a new person.
You didn’t say anything. She just stared at you, until a small smile broke out across her face.
Her eyes softened in a way that you hadn’t seen before as she shuffled closer to you and said, “You love me?”
“Yes,” you breathed as she got even closer.
And then she was kissing you. You froze for a second, but when her hand came up to rest on your face, you shook out of your stupor. Your own hands flew to the sides of her neck, pulling her closer until she was practically in your lap.
She accidentally leaned into your chest and you pulled away, groaning.
“I’m sorry!” she squeaked, leaning back and assessing you.
“It’s fine,” you said, letting out a sigh of relief as the pain subsided again. “I’m fine. Are you fine?”
She nodded. “I’m better than fine.” She trailed her fingers along the side of your head where you knew that the blood had left a stain on your skin. It would most likely need stitches.
“I thought you liked Steve,” she admitted shyly after a long moment of searching your face.
“Steve?” you said incredulously. “Why would I like Steve?” You heard him cough and you cringed. “No offence, Steve.”
“I don’t know! I just thought you did,” she replied, swinging her arms around.
“Robin, I spend every second I can with you because I love you. I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For not realizing. I just never thought that you would ever feel the way I did. What kind of best friend am I?”
“One that I am hopelessly in love with.” You brushed her nose with yours as you whispered, “Baby, you’re the one for me.”
“I love you, too,” she said.
You breathed in. “Say it again.”
She grinned. “I love you.”
“Again?”
She kissed you, brushing her thumb over your chin. “I’ll be saying it for the rest of my life.”
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