#quaratine fic
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begging you
day 15 of a very zosan centric kinktober - dubcon
Sanji is in quaratine until his heat cycle finishes for his own safety. Zoro finds himself drawn to his room due to the smell coming from it. A very heat intoxiacated Sanji begs him to mate him and Zoro cannot say no.
tw as this is dubcon. it wasn't the ABO fic I wanted to write but I am thinking of writing a proper fanfic but it's on the list for when kinktober is over.
this can be read as being opla as it is set before they get chopper
So funny thing about being on a pirate ship with no doctor is that things can start to go downhill fast. This is especially true when one of your crewmates doesn’t inform people that they are an omega who relies on suppressants to keep their heats at bay.
This was true for Sanji who didn’t feel the need to tell his crew that he was an omega that took suppressants to stop himself from going into heat. Maybe he was too caught up in the moment to realise what he had not told the others. He was the only omega on ship. Although gender roles would tell you otherwise, Nami is a beta. So is Luffy for that matter. Luffy didn’t actually see the whole problem. Usopp and Zoro on the other hand were alpha’s and saw a slight issue with Sanji not informing the others of this.
Well, it kind of interferes with them. See, they didn’t have to worry about the real possibility that everyone living in close proximity might cause a reaction of natural instincts, especially since everyone is so close together. Well, until now, they were all sleeping in the same room.
It was decided that either until they reach somewhere with a doctor, or the heat wears off, Sanji would have to quarantine from everyone else. See, a doctor would be able to fix this up.
It had caused a little bit of discomfort among the crew...apart from Luffy and Nami who weren’t bothered or affected by it. Nami had to basically play messenger between the two parties. The other problem was food. Sanji couldn’t cook under quarantine.
Usopp appeared to not be overly affected by it. Edgy, as he didn’t want to do anything that was out of pocket. He ended up distracting himself with making new weapons in a room far away from the quarantine room.
Zoro on the other hand liked to stay on the upper deck. Problem was, he couldn’t get away from the smell. Heats all smelt different. Pheromones were different depending on the person. Sanji’s pheromones smelt...sweet. Like baking or like sweets were just coming out of the oven. Zoro, every time he had to get a waft of it wanted to follow the scent and... now, he had to resist the urge. It’s just a biological response.
He overheard Nami talking about Sanji to Luffy who, despite not actually understanding the situation, was concerned that Sanji was under the weather and well...apparently, he was not doing too well. Which is an unfortunate part of being an Omega... when your biological needs are not being met, your body punishes you for not meeting those urges. Zoro doesn’t know what that’s like obviously but...it sounded like hell.
Still, every time Nami came up from quarantine, she brought that smell with her. The sweet cake like smell. It was quite faint now, but he could imagine it was rather...pungent downstairs.
He had to find out...for curiosity sake. It wasn’t as if he was going into the room. So, he made the decision to go further downstairs into the basement and he was right, there was a very close pungent smell of cakes and sweets. Zoro tried to make his foots quiet as he approaches the door. He knew that Sanji would be behind that door. He approaches the door quietly and, in the silence, something cut through the air. He listened to the sound a little more and it sounded like...sounds of discomfort.
Zoro knew better than to let some silly urges get in the way. He didn’t even like Sanji all that much anyway. But an omega was an omega, and his alpha side was urging him to do what he was supposed to do and breed the omega inside...which he couldn’t do but his feet wouldn’t move. He was glued to the floor.
He couldn’t listen to this anymore. If he did, he was going to do something that he knew himself he shouldn’t do but his body would not allow him to move.
Turning, he went to walk away when he heard the door open. He froze.
“Nami? Is that you?”
He hadn’t heard Sanji’s voice for a day now and it definitely sounded nothing like how it was before. His voice sounded so hoarse before. Zoro stopped in his tracks. It would be easier to ignore him and walk away but his alpha side couldn’t do that so he answered against his best judgement
“No. It’s me,” Zoro’s voice hitched but only slightly, “I was just coming to see if you were okay...”
Bullshit and Sanji probably knew it. When did he ever check on him when he was injured? Not out of any malice or anything but they respected each other to know that they would both be okay when something bad happened. There was a beat of a silence before Zoro knew that Sanji probably knew that he was coming down here based on his urges and Zoro suddenly felt a bit of annoyance at himself. He was better than this.
“I... can see the answer anyway...I’m going back up-”
As Zoro was turning to leave, he could hear the door opening more and that waft of pheromones got stronger. He held his breath in that moment.
“Y-you don’t have to go...why don’t you come inside?”
Zoro knew himself that this wasn’t wise. As soon as he ends up in Sanji’s room, it will be a death trap for both of them. He won’t be able to hold his urges and he will do something he regrets. Although, he wonders if Sanji is thinking the same. The strong smell of pheromones and the way Sanji was inviting him into his room...was this an invitation?
“I don’t know how wise that would be. You...You know what I am, don’t you?”
Sanji didn’t answer for a second. Zoro turned around and was only met with the door slightly opened and he wasn’t outside. Neither of them would cross the threshold of the door.
“You...You’ve made things worse by coming down here. I could smell you when you decided to come down here,”
Zoro didn’t realise he was giving off such a strong scent either. He didn’t know what to say in response other than, “Sorry...I didn’t realise I was-”
“If you leave me now, you’re just going to make things worse for me,” Sanji replied. There was a hint of desperation inside of his voice. He sounded a little...intoxicated actually. Like he wasn’t himself, but Zoro knew he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. Was it all the pheromones between the two men? “You’re going to have to come in and...”
No. Don’t say it.
Zoro did the only thing he could which was turn a heel back and head towards the door, “Do you hear yourself? You are about to ask me of all people to...mate with you?” Zoro stood outside the door but again, didn’t cross the threshold, “This is insane and your own fault. Why didn’t you tell us? You knew you were travelling with two alphas on board. Why would you endanger yourself like this?”
Again, a beat of silence as Sanji was likely thinking about what to say to him. He doubted that Sanji had much ability right now. It was...known the Omegas tend to become intoxicated with their need to mate. He didn’t think that Sanji actually probably even wanted this right now. Zoro wasn’t even sure if he wanted too either.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t think about this! Fuck, I don’t need you to lecture me. You can barely stay away from me like this...” Sanji groaned in a moment of clarity, but it went away quickly, “Your smell is just going to linger here. I’m going to be in absolute hell if you don’t do something about it. Please, Zoro. I’m begging you,”
The door opened more, and it was the first time that Zoro got a look at the man in question. Sanji looked...bedraggled. He looked tired and his skin looked red. He looked like he would be hot to touch. He looked like he’d been rolling in bed doing God knows what. Most importantly he just didn’t look like himself...
He reached out for Zoro who just stared at him as if he was a ghost or something. Sanji’s hand, which was hold, held onto his arms and made a pulling motion.
“You want to breed me. You’re an alpha. I know you want to. Please...I’m so tired,”
Zoro felt himself at at a crossroad. He knew that Sanji likely wasn’t himself and if he did breed him, Sanji would likely come to his senses and be mad at him. However, he could see that Sanji just wanted relief and...
Wait...why is he considering it? And why were his feet taking him into the room?
As Zoro went into the room, the smell hit him in an overwhelming capacity. It smelt of Sanji, but also smelt of the undeniable smell of slick and sweat which turned him on. God, he was turned on. It was the first time he noticed how heavy his knot felt in his pants.
“Have you...ever bred an omega?” Oh, look at that, Sanji was removing his clothes now. Well, it wasn’t like he was wearing much anyway. A bed shirt was all he seemed to be wearing which he was now taking off.
Zoro shook his head, “Never.”
Sanji looked at him before replying, “I’ve never been bred. So that makes two of us,”
Zoro could only help but stare at Sanji. He’d never seen the blonde like this. He’d never even considered seeing him like this. Sanji was a pain; a nuisance who threw himself at women and yet, he was an omega. Now, Zoro was seeing him differently and right now...he knew he was done for. His knot was too heavy for him to back out.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” Sanji’s tone went to its usual annoyed, but he seemed to be flushed from Zoro’s eyes baring holes into him. Sanji sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs which.... oh shit. Zoro’s eyes at once went to that slicked hole. Sanji was rock hard, but slick covered his thighs and made him very...inviting, “Or are you going to breed me?”
Zoro took a second before beginning to undo his pants. Sanji watched in absolute delight as Zoro’s cock sprung out. He was huge with an even bigger and heavier knot at the base. Any Omega would die for an alpha with such a knot.
“I... Are you sure...?”
Once they started, there was no going back, and Zoro was of sound mind to know that. Sanji was not behaving himself and he knew that all he wanted right now was to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of him...but when he was begging and looking so delectable...
“Fuck. Are you going to keep hesitating or are you going to fuck me?” But apparently Sanji was becoming impatient with him, so Zoro approached the Omega and grabbed his legs and hoisted them over his shoulder before leaning in and teasing the head of his cock against Sanji’s wet hole which.... he then pushed in.
“Ah- Alpha~”
Being that Sanji was so wet, it made this a whole lot easier for Zoro and a whole lot nicer. Zoro couldn’t contain the moan that came from him when he nestled himself in that slick hole. He couldn’t believe that no one had wanted to mate with Sanji before. Even though Zoro had absolutely no one to compare him to, Sanji felt amazing around his cock. Tight and wrapped around him nicely. As if Sanji was made for his cock.
Zoro pulled his cock back only to push it back in again. This was it. This would be the end for him. There was no way he’d ever be able to go back from this. His rhythm became fast and hard. He would threaten to slip his knot back in but then would pull himself back out. Zoro had his face buried in Sanji’s shoulder as his hips fucked him with wild abandon. He hadn’t realised it yet, but Sanji had wrapped his arms around Zoro’s back to keep him there and didn’t want to let him go. Every now and then, Zoro would bare his teeth against Sanji’s shoulder.
If it wasn’t for the fact he was already doing something that dubious, he would have sunk his teeth into Sanji’s shoulder, but he knew the importance of doing such a thing. That was an act of claiming someone as your own and he knew for a fact that this right here was already pushing it too far.
“That’s it...good Omega...taking my cock like this...think you can take this big knot too?” Zoro grunted against Sanji’s ear as his hips went faster and faster, the sound of loud slapping and moaning being the only thing between them There was nothing that would be able to take Zoro away from Sanji. He was going to breed him if he had anything to say anything about it.
“You’re going to look so good with my babies...” Zoro groaned into Sanji’s ear. He knew in reality that neither of them likely wanted to have children but the fact that neither of them were using any protection. Sanji was at serious risk of having his babies...and why did Zoro love that, “I’m going to fill you up so full so you’re going to fucking have my babies..”
“Ah! Alpha...” Sanji groaned throwing his head back, “Please... I want your knot...” It wasn’t long until he cried out and clenched his hole around Zoro’s cock, milking him and pulling him in more which meant that Zoro had no choice but to give Sanji what he wanted by pushing his large knot inside Sanji’s hole which made Sanji cry out more.
Zoro groaned as he began to fill Sanji with his hot cum. His knot now kept them together as Sanji collapsed against the bed. Zoro rested his head against Sanji’s shoulder as the pair of them panted together. Zoro moved so he could go on the bed and pull Sanji close to him so they were together...and totally not so he could hold him. That alpha instinct made him want to hold Sanji, protect him while they were together.
Because of that, he kissed Sanji’s hair and wrapped his arms around him, “Good Omega...good,”
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my mind is trying to think of a plot for a fic based on your mood board but i simply cannot. i think that fic is too complex and spectacular for the human mind to even comprehend
listen listen i've got it i see the vision
old, hardened joel miller (pic #1) is an "evil" cowboy (pic #6) who lives in a huge mansion on the moors of england. sworn enemy of the world, of love and of life, he patrols the land surrounding his mansion, scaring off strays and ensuring no one comes close.
one day, there's a knock at his door. he opens it, and reader is stood on his doorstep (pic #5). lost. alone. probs has to pee. joel is initially livid: how did she find her way here?????? but she is tired and needs rest and a bathroom, and so he lets her in.
he settles her in a room of her own, quaratines her for some time (pic #2) before he allows her to frolic around the mansion in a cute (read: sexy) pair of shorts and socks at her will (pic #7), only because...surprise surprise...he starts to love her (pic #8).
smut ensues (pic #4), she falls pregnant (pic #9) and gives birth to an adorable baby (pic #3). happily ever after.
#i wrote this while i was supposed to be working#you're fucking welcome :-)#co-written by walt disney#chats w max#anon
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So I'm still sick but no more fever but I still have to quaratine so it's like pinkeye all over again where I wanna do stuff but can't
And Youtube's bitchass decide to recommend me Dan and Phil playing the sims like I'm in the 9th grade again
And my even dumber ass watches for the fun nostalgia
And I'm catching up on the last 25 episodes cause I don't think I ever watched them
And now I'm invested in the Howlter family and a gay romance with a mf named DAB of all things
And my. Whore. ASS. Has fic ideas for them now.....
I hate it here.
Edit: so I left this in my drafts (I am no longer sick thank god) because admitting this anywhere is honestly the worst idea but fuck it. this is a warning. if I get sick before February again be warned.
#i cannot be left on my own#i cannot be trusted ever#and if i get sick again within the month i will throw hands#howlcakes#(i guess)#dan and phil#(someone free me)#dab howlter#(sedate me)
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I was gonna ask about the Tech Thriller one, but Bella beat me to it, so please tell me more about the Quaratine fic (signed by me, who had covid around a month ago)
My idea was to write a story inspired by the below news article. I wrote 800 words on April 18 2020 and haven't come back to it since. This is one that probably won't ever get written (never say never, though). I think I just wasn't in the headspace to write about pandemic life; it was too depressing.
I'm sorry to hear you had covid and hope you are feeling better! I am still one of the rare few who has never had it.
🌟Ask me about my WIP folder🌟
Here's the 800 words I wrote below the cut, if you anyone is curious:
Chapter 1: If you want to sing out, sing out
“We’re going to be the only ones out there, Rachel!” Kurt protested. “If you want to look like an idiot far be it from me to stop you but I’d like to survive this pandemic with my dignity intact.
“If we’re the only ones out there, then there won’t be anyone to look like an idiot in front of, genius!” she countered.
Kurt let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine!”
Rachel immediately brightened up, took Kurt by the hand, and yanked him over to the back door of their tiny New York City apartment. They burst out onto the fire escape, suddenly thrust back into the world. Kurt inhaled the fresh air and soaked in the sense of space that had been in short supply lately.
“Okay, here, look. I pulled up the lyrics, just in case.”
Kurt gave her a scornful look. “Don’t insult me.”
“Do you see anyone?” she asked nervously.
Kurt looked around for signs of life. They could only see a handful of other apartments from their vantage point; the odds didn’t look good.
“Well, it’s 7 o’clock. I guess we start?” Kurt was unsure. Should they wait longer to see if anyone else decided to join or should they just begin.
The lone pair fumbled their way through the first verse, forgetting where the song actually started, but once they got their footing Kurt forgot about looking a fool and just let the song fill him up.
She says, we've got to hold on to what we've got
It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot for love
We'll give it a shot
Woah, we're half way there
Woah, livin' on a prayer
Take my hand, we'll make it I swear
Woah, livin' on a prayer
Then Kurt heard it! Another voice! They weren’t alone after all. The figure must have noticed them too because he began to wave frantically. Kurt couldn’t help waving back just as energetically. There was such joy in the simple act of seeing another person, of bridging the distance between them through song.
On the line “take my hand,” the figure reached his arm towards them over the balcony railing. Rachel giggled and Kurt felt himself drawn as if by some invisible force to reach back.
In the distance, Kurt could hear other unseen voices join their song. He might be apart but he wasn’t alone.
After the last notes of Bon Jovi had faded, Rachel and Kurt looked out over the quiet street below them for a few more minutes, soaking in the final rays of sunshine before returning to their enclosure.
Rachel folded her arms across her chest, looking smug. “Admit it. You had fun.”
“I just wasn’t sure if it was really going to be a thing, you know? But yeah, it felt like a moment.”
Rachel’s expression softened and she joined Kurt on their living room couch.
“Did I tell you that Aaron finally got his diagnosis confirmed? I mean his understudy has taken the role for the past three weeks, but still this makes it official.”
“Wow, yeah, that’s intense. He’s doing okay, though, right?”
“Yeah, the director updated everyone after the 8pm show yesterday. He’s recuperating at home. I think his wife is looking after him.”
They had all but assumed that Aaron had the virus at this point, considering his symptoms, but it still shook Kurt to have it confirmed. Someone he knew, even tangentially, was part of this thing now. At first, Rachel had insisted that her director was overreacting by putting the entire cast and crew in quarantine for two weeks but now… well, Kurt was supremely grateful that Rachel had been as protected as possible from exposure.
Kurt suddenly glanced over at his roommate, as if to double check she wasn’t in respiratory distress and he was just noticing.
Correctly interpreting his expression, Rachel reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “I’m fine, Kurt. If I was going to get sick it would have happened already. Besides, you know I keep my immune system operating at peak performance.”
Kurt snorted.
*bzzz*
“One sec, Rach.” He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, eyes growing wide at the cryptic text message from Santana. “Turn on the news.”
He fumbled with the remote for a moment, before getting their antique television turned on and locating the local news.
“…has been and will continue to be the health and well-being of Broadway theatregoers and the thousands of people who work in the theatre industry every…”
Rachel gasped and pointed to the ticker tape rolling across the bottom of the screen.
Broadway Goes Dark
Rachel’s hand was clammy in his, clutching at him, breathing irregularly. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening Kurt!”
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YOU WROTE:
""""I wanna make character playlists while taking a little break from making the fic so ya'll should totally send something my way
#ive been listening to a lot of music while stuck in quaratine#i wanna make playlists like 'falling in love with x'#or 'breaking up with x'#just SOMETHING""""
BY "send something my way" IM ASSUMING IT'S SONGS FOR YOUR PLAYLITS THAT YOU WANT TO MAKE, AND SORRY, BUT THERE ARE NO THOUGHTS ON HERE, JUST CHISAKI
WELL U ASSUMED WRONG OBVIOUSLY! AND THAT DOESNT HELP SO BEGONE 🤺🤺
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Test Day (Jason Todd x Reader)
This means I have officially written a quarantine fic. What a weird time to be alive. I also hit 500 followers so thank you for that!
Request for anon: Fluff #7 “Oh, would you look at that? There’s nowhere to sit besides my lap.” with Jason
Word Count: 1,900
Tags: @idkmanicantenglish
When your alarm went off, you wanted nothing more than to turn it off and curl up against Jason’s warm chest and pretend you didn’t hear anything. But instead, you had to be a diligent student who actually studies so you quickly shut off your alarm and try to creep out of bed, but Jason already heard your alarm go off.
“No,” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you tightly.
You sigh, leaning back against Jason for a moment, relaxing in his hold.
“I need to study,” You tell him.
“Five more minutes,” He mumbles into your neck. “It’s too early to study.”
“Any time before 11:30 is too early for you,” You remind him. “My test is today, I’ve got to cram.”
Jason grumbles, tightening his arms around your waist.
“Jase, come on,” You start trying to uselessly wiggle out of his grip. “I’ve been procrastinating this whole week.”
He sighs but releases his arms. You climb out of bed, but turn and pull the blankets over Jason’s chest again and kiss his head.
“Go back to sleep,” You tell him.
He waves you off.
“Yeah, go study for your test,” He grumbles.
You can’t help but giggle at his grumpiness but quietly creep out of the room and brew a cup of coffee. Once setting yourself up at your kitchen counter, you begin the long haul of learning as much organic chemistry as possible. While you weren’t completely helpless, the quarantine forced your classes online and completely destroyed your motivation. You’d been lightly studying throughout the week, but today was grind day.
An hour later, Jason emerges from your bedroom, still looking sleepy and a little grumpy.
“Nice sweatshirt,” He comments, pressing a kiss to the side of your head then pours himself a cup of coffee.
You grin, tugging on the strings of Jason’s hoodie that you’re currently wearing. It’s warm, big, and smells like Jason. Honestly, at this point, it’s providing more emotional support than physical comfort.
“I’m surprised you’re up,” You comment, glancing at the clock over your oven which reads: 8:09 AM.
Normally, you and Jason didn’t even acknowledge the outside world until after 10 o’clock unless absolutely necessary.
“I don’t like sleeping in an empty bed,” He admits to his coffee. “I don’t sleep as well.”
Your heart flutters at the comment, but you ruin the moment when you look back at the practice test open on your screen. Oh, you’re still here. You squint your eyes at the old tests as if it deeply offended you (which is has by existing, thank you very much).
“Did you eat breakfast?” Jason asks.
“Not yet.”
Jason nods then opens the fridge and begins making eggs while you keep cracking away at old tests. He wordlessly sets a plate of food down next to you, kisses the top of your head, then sits on the couch to quietly watch TV and enjoy his breakfast.
A few hours pass as you keep doing practice problems and drawing figures and formulas on your little whiteboard. You’re starting to feel better about the test, but you’re still unsure. Knowing your professor, he’ll ask a question that you have all the information to solve, but no idea how to do it. Your stomach grumbles and you decide you should probably eat lunch.
When you get stressed or “in the zone”, your brain tends to shut off your appetite. You’d never noticed it until you started living with Jason and he pointed it out after watching you study for a final. Luckily, he’s helped you become more aware of it.
Speaking of Jason, he disappeared back to the bedroom about an hour ago, probably to read a book or do research for his next mission with the Outlaws. As a thank you for making breakfast, you fix him a sandwich along with your own and walk it back to the bedroom.
You find him on the floor, one of his dresser drawers open, surrounded by shirts. He brightens when he sees you walk in with food.
“How’s studying going?” He greets.
You shrug, handing him his plate.
“It’s going. I’m starting to feel better about it, but there’s still a lot to go. What are you doing?”
“Cleaning out some stuff,” Jason looks at his various piles. “I never really built my wardrobe back up after I came back, so a lot of this stuff doesn’t fit me.”
“Are you going to order some new stuff online?”
Jason frowns.
“Maybe? I don’t like buying clothes online.”
“You don’t like buying clothes period,” You correct with a smile.
“After all this is over,” Jason vaguely gestures to the air. “I’ll be more than willing to go clothes shopping for at least the first week when quarantine ends, so I’ve gotta make it count.”
You chuckle.
“We’ll go on a shopping spree,” You promise. “Well, I gotta keep studying--”
“Wait, why don’t you eat lunch with me?” Jason asks. “Take a break?”
“This is me taking a break,” You gesture to him. “I gotta keep going.”
“Come on, babe, you’ve been studying since 7 this morning. You can afford to stop and eat lunch.”
“The longer I wait to get back to it, the harder it’s going to be to start,” You shrug. “Sorry, Jase.”
He frowns, watching you leave the room to keep studying.
Two hours later, you’re still going strong-- strong as in you’re still looking at the material, but you keep getting the same style question wrong and you can’t figure out why.
“Okay, an amino has one nitrogen, so you add one, but an amide has one site of unsaturation so you subtract two which then makes it 2n+1,” You scan the possible formulas. “None of these answers have odd numbers,” You groan then flip through your notes, knowing you’re not going to find the answer because you’ve been looking for it for the past fifteen minutes and still found nothing.
Jason emerges from the bedroom again.
“Hey, babe, how’s it going?” He asks, getting something to drink out of the fridge.
“I can’t figure out how to do these stupid problems,” You groan. “I could do them on the last test, but now I can’t do them with amino or amide groups because Dr. Meades never told us the corrected formula.”
Jason frowns, and rounds the counter, looking at the various scribbles and cross-outs on your whiteboard and open notebook.
“Maybe you should take a break,” He suggests, rubbing your back. “You’ve been going at it now,” Jason pauses to look at the clock. “For roughly seven hours.”
“But my test is in three hours. I’ve gotten figure out how to do these problems because there’s always five of them on the test and if I mess up one, I’m going to mess up two,” Your jaw tightens as you feel the burn of tears building in your eyes.
Oh, hell no. Organic chemistry is NOT going to make me cry. While you care about your studies, it’s not enough to make you cry. You take a deep breath, blinking a few times to force back the tears of frustration.
“Some fresh eyes might help. Just take a few minutes to shut your brain off,” Jason tries to urge you but you brush him off.
“I’m okay, I promise. I’m going to see if I can find some example problems,” You start typing on your laptop again, scrounging old tests.
Jason frowns but leaves you to work.
Two hours later, you get up to go to the bathroom. You stare at the blue walls of your bathroom feeling drained and exhausted. You hate organic chemistry and you hate online classes. Why are you even taking this class?! It’s stupid!
After washing your hands, you glance at the clock on Jason’s nightstand-- one hour until you take your test. Sighing heavily, you walk back out to the kitchen to continue studying, only to find every seat at the kitchen counter and small dining table have been taken by a varying amount of objects including but not limited to: a tall stack of folded laundry, a pile of what you were guessing to be Jason’s shirt rejects, a stack of plates from the cupboard, and Jason’s ammunition bag that he takes on missions.
You stare at the chairs then glance over at Jason only to notice he stacked your textbooks and DVD collection on the loveseat while he is pointedly sprawled across the other couch. He casually reads his book, pretending to not notice you.
“Hey, Jason?” You ask.
He hums in response.
“What is this?”
Jason looks around the room then sets his book down, placing a hand on his cheek in mock surprise.
“Oh, would you look at that? There’s nowhere to sit besides my lap.”
He opens his arms invitingly and you can’t help but laugh.
“Jason--” You start to say, not moving toward him, despite the tempting offer.
“No,” He cuts you off. “You have been studying all day. You need to take a break and you’re going to take it now.”
“My test is in an hour.”
“Honestly, if you don’t know it by now, you’re not going to know it for the test,” Jason tells you bluntly. “You’re going to be fine. Please, just take a break,” He looks at you pleadingly.
You glance back toward your laptop which you notice Jason had shut then sigh and walk over to Jason, letting him pull you down onto the couch with him. You land between his legs with his arms wrapped tightly around you.
“You’re going to do great,” He promises.
You snort.
“It’s organic chemistry, “great” does not exist in its vocabulary.”
“Shut up, it’s going to be great.”
“I got a 66 on the last test,” You remind him.
Jason pauses for a moment.
“You’re going to pass,” He fixes, making you laugh.
“There we go. That’s the realistic prediction I need to hear,” You grin, tucking your chin under his head. “I just want the semester to be over.”
“Yeah, I know doll,” He kisses the top of your head. “But you can’t keep trying to do your classes like this.”
“Yeah, I know,” You sigh, playing with his fingers.
You two stay like that until it’s time for you to log on and take your test. And what do you know? Jason was right, you did pass.
“Told you,” Jason grins, kissing your cheek as he looks over your shoulder at the screen.
“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes, closing your laptop.
“I’m just saying that you should listen to me more,” He points out.
“Oh really?”
“Uh-huh, cause clearly, I’m a genius.”
“A genius you say?” You turn your chair so you’re facing Jason.
“Yep,” He grins, stepping between your legs while your arms go around his neck. “I could put Tim out of business.”
“I’m sure,” You roll your eyes. “You’re very humble about it too.”
“Oh of course,” Jason flips his hair dramatically. “Not only am I a genius, but I’m also smoking hot.”
You start laughing, shaking your head.
“You’re a dork,” You grin, kissing Jason.
“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” He murmurs against your lips.
“Damn right,” You grin.
The quarantine sucks, but at least you have a good company.
I had a test on Tuesday, can y’all tell? (I did pass)
#Jason Todd#Red Hood#Jason Todd x reader#Red Hood x reader#jason todd headcanon#red hood headcanons#quaratine fic#dc#batman#request#organic chemistry sucks#based on true events#aka my struggle#i got the same style question wrong on the test so rip#but i passed!!!!!#can i have a jason who reminds me to eat cause this is what i do when i get stressed??
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The One Where Harry Styles Sneezed On Me Masterlist
Here she is, I’ll try to keep it updated!
Day One: The One Where Harry Styles Sneezed On Me
Day Two: The One With The Avocados
Day Three: The One With The Obsessions
Day Four: The One With The Metaphors
Day Five: The One With The Workout
Day Six: The One With The Massage
Day Seven: The One With The Sunflower
Day Eight: The One With The Fort
Day Nine: The One With The Talk
Day Ten: The One With The Touching
Day Eleven: The One With The Beans
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Love Lockdown
I. So It Begins
Eight years. Courtney and Duncan spent eight years in total together, married for two of them. Nearly a decade later, vows exchanged, till death do us part and it all meant nothing. They were high school sweethearts, polar opposites, never going to last. They proved them wrong, until he cheated on her. Nothing physical had happened he claimed, but she didn’t believe it, and even so, emotional cheating was much worse. They were going through a divorce, he was supposed to have moved out by now, but then the coronavirus hit. Now they’re forced to quarantine together until it ends, who knows how long that’ll take with an idiot president in charge. Going to Stanford Law was supposed to be a better opportunity for her, had she known she would be trapped with her ex husband under quarantine during her last year of law school, she may have chosen to stay in Canada. Courtney was resilient though, if anyone could go through this awful ordeal with school being transitioned to online, it was her.
One week before the state of California was ordered to be under lockdown, things were going great. Well, as great as things could be with a global pandemic going on. Luckily for Courtney she is prepared for any situation, she knew the situation would get worse before getting better, so she made sure to stock up on essentials, not going overboard with hoarding of course. She had just gotten home from her last class and was carrying the groceries in when she noticed Duncan’s phone buzzing. She wasn’t the type to go through his phone, but the notifications kept popping up. He was getting a bunch of text messages from his coworker Gwen. She never did like Gwen, they didn’t get along at all. She wasn’t going to read it, really she wasn’t, but her last message made her look- I miss you. Nothing could have prepared for what she was about to find out. Why would she send something like that… unless…
“Hey babe, did you get more toilet paper? Geoff said people have been buying them like crazy.”
“Princess? Hey, did you hea….”
No words needed to be said after that. He knew exactly what was wrong when he saw her face and his cellphone in her hand. She found out and he was going to be in a world of trouble. He expected her to be angry, maybe even a little upset, but he didn’t expect her to be so calm.
“Get out.”
“Courtney, let me explain.”
“There’s no need, we’re done Duncan.”
“You don’t mean that, I’m sorry, but…”
“I don’t want to hear it! I don’t have time for this, I have a paper to finish. I expect your stuff to be out of here by the time I’m done with it.”
That was a week ago, in the midst of her busy schedule she was still able to start the divorce process. Her lawyers are drawing up the paperwork, all she needs is their signatures when it’s ready. She couldn’t help but wonder how they got to this point. She thought they were happy, sure they had their fights, but what would lead him to cheat on her. She shakes the thoughts away, forcing herself to focus on her schoolwork. Now wasn’t the time to worry about this, Duncan should be moving out today and her first day of online class begins today. Still, she couldn’t focus, maybe a cup of coffee would help her finish her case study before the web session begins.
“Courtney…”
“Not now Duncan, I’m busy.”
“You’re always busy, you know we have to talk about this at some point.”
“We can talk once my lawyers have the proper paperwork drawn up.”
“Come on Court, we’ve been together for eight years.”
“You clearly didn’t think about that when you decided to cheat on me!”
“Princess…”
“Nope. I gotta be in class soon…”
They’re interrupted by her phone ringing. She’s more than happy to answer as she continues to make her coffee.
“Hey Bridge.”
“Court, have you seen the news?”
“No?”
“You should turn it on now.”
She walks over with her coffee cup placing it down on the table to turn on the T.V.
Effective immediately, ordering the state of California into lockdown to help curb the spread of the Covid19 virus. All residents are to stay in their homes only allowed out once a week for essentials. Those who are in violation will be fined heavily.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Bridge, I’m gonna have to call you back. I have class in a bit.”
“Well, Princess, guess we’re stuck together for a while.”
“Stay out of my way and maybe you’ll get out of this alive.”
“This house isn’t that big, you’re going to have to talk to me.”
She ignores him, grabs her coffee mug then heads upstairs to her room- their old room together. An hour passed quickly giving her time to read up on the case studies right in time for class. Naturally class goes horrible as the professor isn’t used to teaching a class online. He decides to end the class early asking the students to look up suggestions for new cases to discuss. She signs off not looking forward to what’s to come. How was she going to survive lord knows how long the quarantine would last? She decides to make a to-do list.
1. Graduate law school
2. Finalize the divorce
3. Continue her intern work remotely
Speaking of, she really should check back with the law firm to see if there’s anything else they need her to do. She logs into her email to see a new notification from her class has popped up, it was from the professor.
Since we are unsure how long this virus will continue, I’ve decided to give out the guideline for your final projects early. By the end of the week, you will be paired up randomly between my two classes and be assigned a case. Those of you studying to be defense councils will be defending, and those for prosecution will have the burden of proof. As always, you can reach me through email. Have a great rest of the week!
Courtney completely forgot about the final project, great, how is she going to manage working with someone who was never in her class! How would they know how she operates. This quarantine couldn’t get any worse.
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Self-Isolating Together
“No.” It was a good thing Steve had the reflex to catch the door before Robin slammed it in his face. “No way, shitbird. It’s called self-isolating for a reason, and it’s the same reason I got a one bedroom apartment without you. This isn’t happening.”
“Come on, Rob,” Steve whined, sneakered foot trapped between door and jam, fingers wrapped tightly at eye level. She grimaced at his touch. “Work booted me for two weeks, and you know I can’t be alone that long.”
“Go back to Hawkins then.”
“It’s like a ten hour drive by myself, and my parents are stuck in Europe.”
“Shit. Are they okay?” The sudden sympathetic switch to her voice signaled her surrender, and Robin stepped backwards into her apartment.
Steve shrugged, pushing the door open to let himself in. “As of eighteen hours ago, Mom sent a text and said they’re fine. Just stuck.”
“Jesus.” Robbin hugged her upper half, chewing on her plump bottom lip to weigh her options. He was in now. Not like she had the strength or willpower to kick him out. Well, she could, but he knew she wouldn’t. She rolled her eyes.
“I love you, best friend.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She scoffed. “Just don’t touch anything until you wash you hands. Dump your bag by the door.”
He did as instructed, dramatically holding his hands upward and avoiding obstacles on his path to the kitchen sink like a surgeon between sanitation and the Operating Room. He washed with soap and water, loudly humming Happy Birthday to appease his new roommate.
“Ha ha,” she spoke dryly, leaning against the counter beside him. “You aren’t staying for two weeks, you know. I’ll murder you before then.”
“As soon as I’m a nuisance, I’m out,” he agreed, rinsing suds down the drain with nearly scalding water.
“Okay. Get out.”
He flicked water at her as it dripped from his fingers, and she squawked, snapping the hand towel to his arm. He yanked it from her, drying his knuckles before tossing it aside and leaning beside her. He’d let a little spill over the sink and he felt the water slowly dampen the waistband of his jeans. He sighed. “So, what do you wanna do, roomie?”
“I actually can’t stand you.” She groaned, bumping his elbow with her own.
— — —
They’d settled on an Alien franchise marathon, which Steve would have never agreed to without Robin’s coaxing. And yet halfway through Aliens, he was nodding off at one end of the couch and Robin was texting on the other. He nudged her with his toe.
“You going to spend time with your houseguest or what?”
“Hm?” She continued to stare at her screen, tapping away, the soft blue light illuminating her freckled face.
“Earth to Robin,” Steve toed her again. “I need attention.”
“You need a girlfriend.”
“I have you.”
“You need a real one. One who likes boys.”
“Yeah?” He sighed, puffing up the pillow under his head. “And where am I going to find one of those?” It seemed to be Robin’s life purpose to try to set him up with someone. Maybe she thought he was still attracted to her and needed a distraction, but any semblance of a crush faded the day he saw her wolf down fifteen hot dogs in a competition and immediately vomit them back into the tin bucket beside her.
“The inter, I’ve told you a million times.”
He groaned. “You know I hate those dating apps. It feels so objectifying.”
As much as the woman race appreciates your fall from grace as Slimeball of the Century, you have to suck it up and get yourself back out there. Because this pathetic, whiny Steve wouldn’t exist if you finally got laid.”
“Well unless you’re offering, we’re supposed to be self-distancing. So I don’t see that happening for at least two weeks.”
Robin shot him a sly grin, wagging her phone in his direction. “There are other ways, my dude. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed.” She leaned forward and turned up the volume on the television.
“You’re disgusting!” He yelled in her general direction, chucking a throw pillow at her. It hit her bedroom door where her smug face had been.
He rolled over and pulled out his own mobile device. Maybe she was right. His thumb hovered over the Tinder logo. He had several matches in the city, and a few DMs he hadn’t replied to. It just felt icky, for lack of a better term, like he wasn’t really trying to get to know these women. They definitely weren’t trying to get to know him. No one actually cares what his favorite cereal is. They’re just trying to figure out what to stock for the morning after.
His brain overrode his finger and he ended up on TikTok instead, scrolling through endless videos of the nerds dancing with their siblings and trying to keep entertained during their own quarantines. Dustin posted a video an hour, documenting his day in a night vision filter, like a data log in a found footage film. Only he hadn’t done anything more interesting than eat four Snack Packs. So it was a typical Friday for him.
Steve checked Snapchat next, an app next to no one used, but the familiar notification from Nancy sent a familiar little flutter to his stomach. She’d sent a selfie in a face mask filter. It gave her thick, black eyeliner above a black leather mask, very much the contrast from her bubblegum pastel aesthetic.
He smiled, using the same filter to respond. He retook it a few times, getting the right angle to illuminate his face from the glow of the television. bitchin’
He typed El’s new favorite phrase. She’d recently discovered the punk subculture of the 90s and used phrases like “bitchin’” and “gnarly” on every Insta story and TikTok caption.
He was shocked at the immediacy of Nancy’s response. Her next photo was dark, her soft features lit only from her phone screen. She lay on a fluffy pillow, curls tickling her cheekbones. A concerned look furrowed her brows and puckered her lips. Are you at home?
He snapped a photo of Robin’s television. nah. convinced rob to take me in.
Again, she responded quickly. This time, she was smiling. Good. Glad you aren’t alone.
His heart swelled. He knew it shouldn’t, knew he should be over her by now. It had been two years, and she was with Jonathan, and they were happy.
He sent a photo of the dark room around him. me too. nite nance.
Nancy’s eyes were closed, nose scrunched around a smile. Night, Steve. Miss you. xx
He shut off his phone and rolled over, letting the sounds of flame throwers and machine guns drown out the dull ache and gaping voice in his chest.
— — —
Steve didn’t anticipate accidentally starting a fight on the first full day, but there he was, gangly legs tucked under him on the couch, mindlessly scrolling when Robin went in on him. All he’d done was offer to PostMate Mediterranean from their favorite place down the street, half-jokingly. Robin did not find him humorous, and he jumped at the slamming of her refrigerator door.
“No, dingus, we cannot just ask a random stranger to handle our food in his disgusting car two blocks just so we can eat.”
“Great, so we’ll go pick it up.”
“What is wrong with you? Can you take nothing seriously ever in your entire life?” Her tone, though always vaguely insulting, held no such understanding or humor. Instead her words felt cold, piercing.
He turned to look at her, nostrils flared and fists clenched on the edge of the linoleum countertop. “Whoa, Jesus, Rob, I was joking. Thought I’d lighten the mood. What’s your deal?”
“My deal? My deal, Harrington, is that I’ve somehow managed to confine myself to this tiny shithole with someone like you, who is constantly trying to ‘lighten the mood’ when the rest of the Goddamn world is going through something traumatic.”
Steve fought back an eye roll. Robin Buckley, ladies and gentlemen, drama queen, people’s rights activist, extraordinaire. He really should have anticipated this. Instead, he stood from his crumpled position on the couch and stretched his limbs over his head. “Alright, alright. If it’s bothering you that much, I’ll leave.”
Robin harrumphed, hands on hips, bare foot tapping against beige tile. She didn’t respond, or stop him as he shut his laptop lid and shoved it into his bag by the door. He pretended to ignore her as she let out a dramatic sigh and crossed to her pantry cupboard.
“We have pita and hummus. Is that going to be enough for you, princess?” She scoffed.
“Ooh,” he shrugged. “I was hoping for falafel.”
She reached into the cupboard and extracted a can of chickpeas before tossing it across the room. “Start blending.”
He caught it and joined her in the kitchen to help place vegetables and pita on a serving platter for the both of them. Four carrots in, he bumped her with his hips. “Is everything okay though? End of the world aside?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” She avoided eye contact.
“Robin. It’s me, Steve, your best friend.”
She sighed and shrugged under his knowing gaze, and she shot a displeased look at her phone charging near her keys and wallet on the counter. “Francesca’s pissed at me.”
“Ah,” Steve nodded, slapping a hefty dollop of hummus onto her pita and then his own. “And Francesca is...?”
“The girl I’m... I don’t know. Seeing, I guess. Texting, calling, FaceTiming.” Robin threw her hands in the air for dramatic effect. He supposed you could take the girl out of drama club, but it never really left the girl, did it?
“Why is she pissed?”
“Because,” Robin spoke through a mouthful of pita. “She saw you being an idiot on my Insta story earlier.”
“And?”
“And I’ve barricaded myself from the world with you and I have committed to only communicating with her via the internet, dingus.”
Steve picked carrot out of his molars with his tongue, contemplating her predicament and ways to fix it. He supposed he would also be pissed if let’s say Nancy was dating him but decided to hole up with Byers, before they were dating, of course. But that was a totally different ball game. “She knows you’re gay, right?”
“Yes, Steve, she knows I’m gay, but like... it doesn’t look great on my part to tell her countless times it’s safer to stay indoors and then let you waltz in like you own the place.”
“Okay, well, do you even like her?”
“Yes!” Robin sighed, dipping her half eaten pita directly into the hummus. So much for the spread of germs. “I do, I really like her. Like, really, really like her.”
“So invite her over now.”
“No, God no. Jesus, no wonder you’re single for life.”
“Hey!”
“I just mean, if I invite her over now, she’ll think it’s just because she wants me to, and it won’t feel genuine. And I’m really not prepared for her to meet you. I can’t scare her away.”
“Okay, unfair,” Steve prodded her hand with his carrot. She swatted him away. “Have you told her how you feel?”
Robin stared at her plate, shaking her head like a guilty five-year-old asked to apologize to a classmate.
“That’d probably be a good start.”
“Yeah? And who are you to give me relationship advice, Harrington? I saw you Snapping Nancy shirtless pictures this morning.”
Steve had been caught in the act. He tried to played it off so smoothly too, also posting fresh-out-of-the-shower thirst traps on his Instagram to make sure Nancy wasn’t suspicious of his lack of wardrobe. His snaps to her were all smiles and dribbled toothpaste, relatable and modest, asking her how quarantine was going and if she had any book recommendations for the long haul.
She did, Don Quixote. And she shared her suggestions in a perfect powder blue camisole, makeup free, with her hair clipped up on the sides and out of her face.
“Steve,” Robin scolded. “You’ve got to get over it. Nancy’s happy, and she’s far too nice of a person to cut the cord and break your heart. So you’re going to have to be the one to stop contact.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled into his hummus.
— — —
After a long day of mutual sulking and watching various garbage content on their separate devices, Steve and Robin decided to open the bottle of Stoli at the back of Robin’s cupboard. She had some cranberry juice in her fridge left over from her last UTI (“TMI, Rob!”), and they decided to pour a couple of glasses and toast to Mother Russia.
It was a habit they’d been out of for a couple of months, trying to separate Hawkins life from life in the city. The vodka was reserved for particularly bad nights, long car rides, and the middle of cattle pastures. The night of Billy Hargrove’s funeral was one of those nights. Seeing Max that beat up over her dick of a brother was hard for all of them to watch. Knowing they’d had a hand in it was somehow more difficult to deal with.
Now though, they seemed to be celebrating the end of the world and being bad at girls and things, Steve couldn’t really remember. His head felt fuzzy, and his entire body was warm enough to strip off his sweatshirt by the collar.
“Why are you always naked, Harrington?” Robin cackled, tossing a tv remote in his direction.
It bounced from his chest and thudded against the concrete floors, and the two of them howled in laughter.
“Okay, okay,” Robin breathed, clutching at the stitch in her side. They’d gone drink for drink, and she was easily further gone than Steve, lacking experience and body mass. “Truth or dare.”
Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. He shrugged. “Are we five?”
“Truth or dare, dingus!”
He laughed with her. He couldn’t help it. She was infectious, hyper and annoying, but endearingly so. “Fine, truth.”
“Are you... still in love with me?”
It was her control question, like in a lie detector test. He thought she used it to see his mood, to gauge whether or not he was really going to play the game.
“No, freak,” he responded, toeing at her exposed thigh across the couch. “I’m not still in love with you.”
“Fine,” she threw a dramatic hand to her brow, giggling to break the fourth wall. “Your turn.”
He sighed. “Alright, truth or dare.”
“Dare.” She shot him a look with that fire in her eye, the one he’d seen time and time again in the face of real danger. Only now, the only danger was the world outside those four walls, a world without toilet paper.
“Okay, I dare you...” He looked around the apartment for something she could do that would feel mildly entertaining at this point in time.
“I dare you to let me infiltrate your Tinder.” Robin cut him off, grasping his direction with tired movements.
Steve snorted through an eye roll, pulling his phone from between the creases of his legs for her to use. He supposed there wasn’t too much harm. He’d never speak to those women again, best case scenario, and worst case, she’d say something awful and he’d have a girl at a waitress if this self-distancing thing ever let up. Robin wouldn’t say anything awful anyway, being hyper-aware, hyper-“woke”, as they say.
“Yes!” Robin cheered, crawling closer so he could see over her shoulder. He’d gotten yelled at about proximity earlier, but apparently drunk Robin was blissfully unaware enough. He was just happy he didn’t have to think of a dare.
She spent a few seconds swiping, matching a handful of times, but she quickly grew bored of scoffing at girls she didn’t seem fit for her dingus. She switched over to the messaging function.
“Oh my God!” She squawked upon entry.
“What?” Steve laughed, picking apart the names to see what had her so shaken. None of the names sounded familiar or at all remarkable, just a lot of Jens and Jessicas and Stephanies.
“You haven’t responded to any of these women, dingus!” With a sigh of disapproval, she started her journey to find Steve Harrington love, like a virtual set of the Bachelor.
“It looks like you had some rapport with Dana a couple of weeks ago. What was wrong with her?”
Robin scrolled through Dana’s profile. She was hot, curvy, short hair, kind of a badass. She was a hairstylist, it looked like. Her opening line was even about how great Steve’s hair was. He shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.” He wracked his brain to remember their interaction. He supposed it was during a particular Snapchat dry spell. Was it Valentine’s Day? That was a busy Tinder weekend for him.
“Well, I’m messaging her again.”
And it went like that for a half hour, Robin scolding him at poor love life decisions and quickly trying to patch up broken contact with strangers. He was shocked to have received a few responses. People must really be bored.
A few of the women responded “Hey, ghost”, which prompted Robin into drunken lectures about why Steve needs to be kinder to the women he communicates with. He agreed. It’s shitty to ghost people, but he knew Robin would be just as disappointed if he told every woman on the app he wasn’t interested because his heart was still wrapped up in his high school sweetheart, the love of his life.
Finally, Robin had connected with a girl named Roxanne, who owned a parakeet and happened to follow Steve on Insta after their last encounter around Christmas. Roxanne was still single, appreciated his (Robin’s) apology, and was happy to chat about life through the messaging function on Insta. Robin tutted Steve’s head with her hand and sent herself to bed, hiccuping. Her job was done.
— — —
Robin woke him up at 6AM because he was screaming in his sleep. He didn’t remember his dream, though nightmares usually rotated between five set situations. He was either with Byers and Nancy and the lights, or his pool, or the junkyard, or the secret base, or the mall. According to Robin, he was screaming for “Hargrove” to “watch out”. Ah, the mall then.
He was dripping with sweat, and Robin fetched him a large glass of water while he traipsed to the bathroom to towel off. He didn’t look hot, pale skin slightly green, normally lustrous hair clinging to his forehead like rats fighting their way out of the sewer. He splashed cold water over his face, ignoring the lingering doom that tickled at his spine and hung out just over his shoulder.
“There’s pain meds in the cabinet,” Robin called softly.
He swung the mirror toward himself, ducking in the cramped bathroom. The generic brand bottle sat on the lowest shelf. It rattled it his hands as he removed the child-lock lid.
“Grab me some, will ya?” She groaned.
He popped two in his mouth, palming two more to meet Robin on his makeshift bed, covers tangled and strewn on the floor. They traded pills for water, and the cool condensation of the glass felt nice in his hand.
He collapsed in the spot next to her.
“You okay?”
He shrugged, staring blankly at the various liberal paraphernalia on the wall behind her television. “I guess. I don’t really remember my dream.”
“I didn’t know you were still having them.”
“I’m not, really. Just when I like... drink. I think that might be the trigger.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he kicked at her ankle. “I’m the one that pulled it out of the cupboard.”
After a long silence, Robin spoke with the least conviction he’d heard from her... ever. “You know you couldn’t have done anything, right?”
Steve turned to her with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what the hell she was going for here.
“With Billy.” Her voice broke on the boy’s name. “He was long gone. I mean, the shit that was in his system. He wouldn’t have made it anyway.”
Steve felt his face flush, and he ducked his head. He supposed they’d never really talked about it, about Billy, even on their most open of nights. They talked about being tortured, drugged, barely skating back with their lives or at least minimal brain damage. Robin never knew the extent of guilt that Steve harbored for his high school rival, how responsible he felt for the kid’s death. If only they had more fireworks, if only they closed the gate faster, if only he’d hit his car a little harder.
“I know, Rob. It’s just weird. I’ve never seen anyone die before, and I knew him. You know? We partied together. He kicked my ass once. Like, we had lockers next to each other in the locker room.”
“Okay, we might need to unpack that one later.” Her tone was teasing, but soft, gentle with him.
Steve snorted and shook his head.
Robin reached across and pulled his hand into her own. It reminded him of that time on the roof in the rain, before all of the trouble unfolded.
“I love you, dingus.”
“Love you too.”
— — —
Work started the next morning, leaving the two of them propped against the countertop, staring at their laptop screens and sipping matcha from handmade mugs. Steve had been “fortunate” enough to work customer service for his dad, which typically involve emailing people about their various issues with finances. Last week’s stock market plummet had been a fun one. Steve felt overjoyed when Mom convinced Dad to force him to work remotely in order to avoid getting sick.
Robin was a sort of jack of all trades. She did a lot of translation online, transcriptions and whatnot, headphones heavy and covering both ears. She couldn’t hear Steve talking to himself. He might as well have been alone. Occasionally, during the week, she’d hop into her bedroom to Skype her students. She taught private lessons for kids with various woodwind instruments. That alone made her pretty decent money.
Steve found himself drained within the first few days, unable to concentrate and needing an out. Luckily, Robin made up a grocery list and sent him out. She told him to be very careful and only touch the essentials. And that she’d be waiting by the door with soap and water upon his return.
So, he shoved a beanie over his mess of hair and went out. It was cold, for March, and he didn’t appreciate the chill of frost pulling at his nostril hair and giving him the sniffles. One little inhale was enough to send a woman gasping with terror as she crossed the road.
He made it to the corner store and soon realized he’d have to abandon his list. The shelves low of stock, and by the looks of it, they’d be wiping their asses with their hands in a few short days. He got what he could, piling it into Robin’s reusable bag, only touching the essentials. And he made sure to use the self check out on his way out.
He made it back out the cold streets, bags slumped over each shoulder, and his phone started ringing from the buds in his ears. Hands full and incapable of reaching his phone in his back pocket, he struggled to press the tiny headphone in his ear. “Hello?”
‘“Steve? Hey.” Came the soft response of a voice he’d never forget.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah, sorry, is this a bad time? Are you working?”
“No, no, no, no. This is fine. I’m just uh... getting groceries.” A bag slipped down the crook of his arm and he wondered how the hell women carried purses on a daily basis.
“How was the grocery store?”
“Practically a wasteland.”
His heart did a backflip at her chuckle. Nancy’s voice was like a breath of fresh air in the stale, eery climate of a city under quarantine. It was like, as soon as she started talking, he could smell flowers blossoming in the park, feel the spring breeze roll by. She lifted the bitter cold.
“Have you been keeping yourself busy?” She asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve hunkered down with Robin, so we’ve just been watching old movies from the 80s and eating a lot of hummus. How about you?”
“Also 80 movies marathons. What a coincidence.”
“Anything good?”
“Jonathan forced me to watch The Evil Dead finally, and it actually wasn’t bad.”
Steve scrunched up his nose. He wasn’t sure if it was to block the wind or the scent of Jonathan’s name lingering in the air between them. “You turning into a big horror fan then?”
“God, no,” she cackled on her line. “I still prefer staring out the window looking longingly at empty streets. Feels like the end of the world, doesn’t it?” She snickered.
“A little bit, yeah.” He chuckled. “But, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”
She went quiet then, well, quieter. A knowing...something passed between them. She thought of Barb, he knew, and he thought of her, back to him, arm outstretched with a gun. A pitter of panic surged through him.
“Steve,” she barely spoke.
“Yeah, Nance?” He hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking. He picked up his pace again.
“Do you think this has anything to do with...?” She didn’t need to finish her thought.
“No,” he spat out before he had a proper answer. It terrified him, the idea that people were trapped in their homes, waiting for the world to crumble in vines and flower-mouthed faces. He glanced across the road at a woman delivering groceries to her neighbor. “No, Nance, I don’t.” The two women turned to smile and wave. He feebly attempted to wave back.
“How can you be so sure?” There was the stubborn Nancy he knew and loved.
“Because,” he smiled softly to himself. “If he was taking over, we’d be alone, isolated, sure. But something about this feels like it’s pulling us all together. Don’t you think? I mean, people are bringing their neighbors groceries. Have you seen the amount of instagram lives this week? Dozens. And did you watch that video of Italians singing from their balconies?”
Nancy chuckled. “Yeah, I did.”
“See? If the world was ending, we wouldn’t be so supportive of each other.”
She paused for a moment, soaking it all in before her soft response. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
He grinned, struggling to lift his arm enough to push the button for entry into the apartment building. Robin buzzed him in without question. “Well, I’m back, and I’ve got to put the groceries away.” He climbed the stairs a few at a time.
“Okay. Stay safe. I’ll snap you later.”
“Please do. Thanks for calling.” He wrapped his knuckles on Robin’s front door.
“Tell Robin hi!”
“Tell Byers hi.”
Robin shot him a confused look, giving him a wide berth to dump the bags on the counter and wash his hands. With hurried goodbyes, Nancy clicked off the phone.
“Longer than that!” Robin scolded when he turned off the faucet.
Smiling to himself, he turned the water back to hot and scrubbed for a second time, loudly singing the chorus to Toto’s Africa.
“I hate you.” Robin grinned, unloading the groceries into the pantry.
Steve sprinkled her with water from his fingertips and dried his knuckles with the towel.
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First, I'd like to preface this by saying my heart goes out to those effected by the CoronaVirus/COVID-19. This fic is in no way making light of this week, I just wanted to write the story stuck in my head. If you would like to learn more about the virus and dealing with quarantine, please head over to my post, where I will drop several links with information including how to sew masks for health care professionals and where to send them in. Thank you and please enjoy!
#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#stancy#au: modern setting#quaratine fic#just two friends chillin during lockdown
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Chapter two of “Enchantress of the Knight” is now up.
Secret plots are hatched, Cullen blushes profusely, and the Inquisitor (to be) learns how to sword fight.
Check it out here!
#dragon age#cullen rutherford#cullen/inquisitor#sarah writes stuff#quaratine fic#dragon age inquisition#cullen/trevelyan
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hell yeah maggie prompts time!!! how about "I want to feel like this forever" because it is also a the maine lyric and i think it's cute and you know me i love me some fluff :)) omg do you need a pairing? fuck it let's not play games mashton please!! love you xoxo bella
bella how long has it been since i wrote you a promptfic? trick question, too fucking long... i love you i miss you and please enjoy this cheesy mashton fluff <3
"I want to feel like this forever"
The sun is hot on Michael’s neck even as he juggles two bags of dirt to close the sliding door to the backyard.
It’s June, and Summer feels good. It feels like riding bikes with Calum to get popsicles from the convenience store as kids, eating them on the curb out front. It feels like sweating in cheap tank tops on Luke’s bedroom floor at his parents’ house after having promised themselves they’d film a cover, only to decide it was too warm. It feels like wind whipping past his ears in Ashton’s passenger seat, too loud to talk, but loud enough to hide his heartbeat.
Summer isn’t the same, spanning different months now that Michael lives 14 hours from the neighborhood he still calls home. Summer doesn’t mean the same thing anymore, either. Summer doesn’t mean long days with his friends, trying to make themselves into something worth a couple of ears. Summer doesn’t mean driving all afternoon with Ashton, nowhere to go but up, convinced that they want it bad enough to make it true. Summer doesn’t mean sneaking Ashton out of his bedroom in the morning, just for the thrill of it.
The change has less to do with the move, or even to do with his job. It’s a change that every adult feels eventually, that shift from summer being a vacation to summer being a continuation of every other month and week and day of life.
It’s different, but it still feels good. Michael doesn’t mind the sting on his skin that promises pinkness in the morning. He doesn’t mind the sweat beading on his neck and dripping down the back of his shirt. He doesn’t mind the smell of sunscreen or the stickiness of aloe vera, and he lives in hats all year already.
Michael brings the dirt across the yard, dropping it without fanfare next to Ashton, and summer feels good. It feels really good.
“I’m finished with the herbs,” Ashton says. He’s kneeled over, patting the ground around the newly transplanted basil. He leans back on his heels to smile up at Michael. “Ready for lettuce?”
Michael hums in acknowledgement and gets down on his knees next to Ashton to start dropping seeds into the little holes in the ground. “Corn after this?” Michael asks. He knows that it is, because Ashton likes to plan things out loud when he’s stressed, usually right before bed. Ashton can make a plan out of anything to calm his mind. The past couple of weeks, it’s been the garden.
“Yeah, then the sunflowers.”
“Right, the sunflowers,” Michael says with a smile. He looks up from his seeds, and Ashton is already smiling back.
“Are you trying to talk shit about my sunflower?”
“Are you trying to suggest I would dare?”
Ashton laughs with his whole body, head tipped back, shoulders curling in, folding at the stomach.
Summer feels good for Michael, but summer looks even better on Ashton. He’s built for the warm weather and built for the sun. His skin has a healthy glow, his hair a soft shine. His eyes are brighter and his voice is bigger. Michael always loves watching Ashton laugh, but watching him now is like watching a season coming home.
“What?” Ashton asks, once he’s noticed Michael’s stare, his stupid grin.
“Nothing,” Michael says. “I just want to feel like this forever.”
Ashton laughs, a bit higher than before. He looks back down at his garden and pats down dirt that he’s already gone over. “Shut up.”
“Okay,” Michael says. He turns back to his patch of garden, still smiling.
They work in silence for a few minutes. Ashton is humming quietly and Michael feels his blood settle at the sound. Nothing will ever be right like Michael is right with Ashton. Nothing will ever call Michael home like Ashton’s tone and rhythm, vibrating him back to a steady frequency down to the bones.
“Alright, fine,” Ashton says, after a while. “You want to feel like this forever?”
“I think you were made for this, Ashton Irwin,” Michael says. He gestures around them vaguely, but Ashton has never had a hard time understanding him. “You were made for this, and I was made for you.”
“And what if I was made for you, too?”
Michael smiles and shakes his head. Ashton was made for the heat and the sun and the earth. He was made to exist here, in the garden, with his glowing skin and shiny hair and bright eyes and big voice. “That’s not how seasons work.”
“Don’t I get to decide how they work, if I’m made for this?” Ashton says, grinning like he’s trying to smirk, but radiating the softness he can’t turn off, if it’s for Michael.
“I don’t make the rules, I’m just the messenger.”
“Convenient,” Ashton laughs.
Michael turns back to his seeds, and Ashton goes back to humming.
Michael is warm and sweaty. He’s sticky from sunscreen and his hat is tight on his forehead. He glances up at Ashton, lighting up the garden, the yard, the whole damn city, and summer feels good.
#i am soft for mashton#as always but like#i'm especially soft rn#guys when can we have mashton discourse hours??????#i am craving the mashton talk#also bella if ashton is summer you are spring#to me at least#because last spring was when we found each other and got to know each other#and you really kept me present during those first few months of quaratine#and so you will always feel like spring to me#<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3#asks#prompts#my fic#clumsyclifford
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I feel you with the zero motivation and chronically ill😅 I'm in the mood for some fluff with mgg🥺 maybe some quarantine fluff where you decide to makeover some of your rooms and it ends up in a paint fight
I drank a lot last night so I’ve definitely forced myself into a flare, so silly of me! I appreciate this req, this is so sweet!
MASTERLIST
SHORT MASTERLIST
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Quarantine wasn’t so bad, not when you got to spend it with the man you loved. Matthew was never boring and being trapped together in the house meant that you were never bored. Middle aged women on Facebook bragged about their puzzles, thousands of pieces, and hours of time they’d never get back. Matthew, on the other hand, wasn’t letting you waste this time. It was an opportunity to do some of the things you’d always wanted. You learned to knit; Matthew learned to bake bread, watching bread tiktoks only encouraged him.
Once the art and craft bout of learning had subsided, Matthew moved on to remodeling the house. He took to pulling the cabinets apart first, the kitchen and the bathroom and he painted them. The kitchen was looking fresh and Matthew was happy with his DIY efforts.
“What have you got there now?” You asked, sighing with frustration. Matthew walked into the lounge room carrying a paint roller as tall as him and next to his feet where two paint cans.
Matthew grinned at you sweetly, his eyes wondering around the room, looking for where to start.
“We’re going to paint the lounge room!” Matthew said excitedly, hoping you’d be excited. You tried your best not to groan with laziness, you tried to be just as excited about it. As much as the DIY projects were working out, you weren’t confident with painting walls, you’d never done it before. Matthew rushed around the house like an excitable puppy, finding you some home clothes that you could get paint on without being upset. He had taken all his clothes off, now wearing only denim overalls. A shiver ran down your body, admiring his arms and his shoulders.
“You want me to paint or jump you” You smiled at Matthew cheekily. Matthew was embarrassed, the way you were looking at him made him feel good, but he was still an insecure person. He awkwardly ruffled his hair and turned his attention back to the paint he was pouring. The deep, forest green was something you had wanted for a while, and it was beautiful in the tray.
With the furniture moved, the floors covered, and the walls prepped, Matthew was ready to get you into the painting mood. He took the tall paint roller, having the height advantage over you. You were in charge of the edges, having a steadier hand than Matthew.
“We could have done this next week, you know?” You started, feeling a little unwell and isolated. All you wanted to do was go out into the backyard and lay in the grass. You wanted to be in the sun, you wanted to pretend you were anywhere else.
“I promise you can decide the next project” Matthew pouted falsely, teasing you a little.
“Right well, next project is wine and cheese in the backyard” You said firmly, making Matthew giggle a little. Matthew leaned over and ran his fingers over your shoulder, you didn’t realize that his fingers were coated in the green paint.
As you leaned down into the paint tray and covered your hands in paint, Matthew began running around the lounge room, avoiding your touch at all costs. Standing on one side of the table, Matthew on the other side, he held his hands up in surrender.
“Now… Let’s just think about this” Matthew fought through laughter to speak.
“I don’t think so, you already got me” You warned him, not backing down. Scampering across the table, you landed on Matthew’s chest, knocking him to the floor and straddling him before planting your hands all over his face. Laughter filled your body, you began convulsing next to Matthew on the floor, cackling so hard that you almost felt sick.
“I can’t believe you!” Matthew screeched, leaning over, and grabbing a handful of paint, running it through your hair. You squealed, paint dripping from your head, down your face as you jumped back on top of Matthew and rubbed your head all over him. Once the laughing had stopped, Matthew leaned up to kiss your lips passionately. His paint covered hands nestled into your hair at the back of your head, your hands on Matthew’s face, flourishing more paint across his face.
“Come on, lets finish this coat so we can have shower” Matthew let go of you, allowing you to pull him up off the floor.
#fluff#mgg#matthew gray gubler fic#short fic#drabble#matthew gray gubler x reader#criminal minds cast#request#anon#quaratine#fuck 2020#fanfiction#fanfic
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Write about quarantine with Harry 🥰
You didn’t know what to expect after your last day of work. Coming home and not really knowing when it would be the next time you could go back there. You were grateful to have Harry in your life to be honest, you weren’t sure what you should do without him during this crisis.
All you wanted to do cuddle up in his arms, he was home to you. You weren’t hungry, tired and stressed. Hoping maybe Harry has started on dinner by the time you get home.
You reach your apartment, climbing the stairs and unlocking your door. Just to your hopes you are welcomed by delicious smell coming from inside. You set your bag down, slipping your shoes off after making your way to the kitchen.
“Hello love” Harry says, he opens up his arms and pulls you into his chest. He has a big grin on his face, just as happy to have her home as much as she is to be home.
“Miss you” you whisper, letting out a huff and pulling him even closer to you. Not really caring about whatever stain you noticed was on him when you first walked in. You just needed him to be close to you.
“I’m right here babe, what’s wrong?” He says out of concern, pulling from you. He has a confused look on his face, his eyes scanning every inch of you. Looking for some type of answer.
“Nothing, just scared is all” you confess to him, not know how they will go through life during this pandemic. You weren’t prepared and never even thought of something like this happen to you. “I don’t want to be alone without you”
“It’s going to be ok, I’m here” he pulls you back into his chest. Slowing rocking you back and forth in his arms. His mind running a hundred miles, not really knowing what they are going to do either. But needing to should her strength to keep her feeling positive.
He finishes dinner and you help him set everything thing out. You both decide since it’s the first night of quarantine and you are going to locked up at home for however long that you would be eating dinner on the couch. You snuggle up woth a blanket together, legs intertwined, while resting the back of your head against Harrys shoulder.
“I’ll always protect you” Harry says, taking away your worries you were thinking. You turn around to show your attention. “I’m not going anywhere” he reassures you
“I love you” you say, finally giving him that smile that he has desperately been looking for since he first heard you walk through that door.
It gives you the indication to pull you into you. Wanting to feel that touch that you so desperately have been wanting to feel from him. You just needed to feel lips on yours. You are barely touching but are yet so close. You don’t even need to hear him say it back, his actions show so much of him and how much he loves you. Taking in every moment but not realizing how much time you really will have to be together like this over and over.
His soft skin, pink lips that are so smooth against you. The way he grips onto your neck to pull your body even closer. Closing that gap between you both, loving every minute of it. Taking those thoughts away from you and only focusing on the way that he is making you feel.
“Are you going to be ok?” He questions, pulling away from your lips for a spilt second, needing to know before you continue. You giggle and smile into his lips, now feeling too hyped up on him. But you didn’t really care and pulled him right back into you. He knew what that probably meant and lifted you right up off of of lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and up the stairs to your bedroom.
Not long forgetting what the problem even was.
#quaratine!harry#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles dirty#harry styles imagine
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Earn It
Author: youcantkillamutant
Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)
Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC
Summary: Some things have to be earned
Warnings: Cursing (Is ‘hell’ a bad word anymore?)
Words: 1.6K
A/N: Joining in on the Quarantine Writing challenge hosted by the lovely @shaekingshitup & @chaneajoyyy. Thank y’all for getting me writing in this time of corn teen lol. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.
Listening To: Earned It Instrumental By The Weeknd, Earned It by Jasmine Thompson, When I Get My Hands On You by The New Basement Tapes
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Tea, check. KimoyoPad, check. Earbuds, check. Blue-light glasses, check. Kay had everything she needed. The sun was streaming through her office pod in the palace, window open to let in the breeze, but something was missing. Ideas. She needed ideas. After working on this project for a week straight, Kay discovered that she had no more inventive energy. All of her creations had been wrung out of her within the week, and now she sat at her desk, pouring over everything she had imagined, and it just wasn’t working.
She’d bought a few more hours to pull something together to present to Shuri and the board, but the clock was ticking and she wasn’t getting anywhere. Kay pushed away her KPad. Seeking out distraction would only make her feel worse, only remind her of the work she wasn’t doing.
To be fair, Kay had been particularly hard on herself during the work on this project and she knew it. Shuri and the other girls in the lab had noticed it. Feared it is probably more accurate. when Kay asked Shuri for a few more hours on the presentation, she was met with wide eyes and furious nods. And Kay couldn’t figure out why exactly she was wound so tight about this, but it felt important.
It was her first presentation in Wakanda that she’d make without training wheels. No project lead to report to, just her. When Shuri and the Board had approved her initial proposal, she’d been elated. Called everyone back home in the States to report that after 8 whole months working in Wakanda she’d finally scored her own project. It was exciting, even when the work set in she was excited, but now, a month later and three-quarters a preliminary presentation complete, Kay had to wonder why she’d wanted to do this in the first place.
It wasn’t like she had a ton of work to finish for the presentation anyways. But the part she had to finish just wouldn’t come. She’d been brainstorming for the last week on this portion of the project and she could barely string two sentences together for the presentation because there was nothing. Just as Kay was about to go give herself a bathroom break in which she would stare at herself in the mirror for ten to fifteen minutes, the door to her office pod slid open. Crap.
“Shuri, I thought we agreed that you’d give me at least three hours to go over these—”, Kay stopped short when her earbuds were out. A warm breath brushed over Kay’s shoulder, she knew it wasn’t Shuri. Great.
“N’Jadaka. I thought you were on a diplomatic mission with the Jabari.” Clove and honey floated to her senses, mingling with sand and oak; N’Jadaka’s scent wafting through the air.
“Keeping tabs on me Kay? I’m touched.” He huffed another breath over Kayana’s cheek, so close he could kiss it. Kay didn’t bother answering. Blowing out a breath instead, so get N’Jadaka’s smell out of her mouth.
Ever since she’d come to Wakanda N’Jadaka had been…overly familiar. Maybe it’s because they were the only Americans in Wakanda, but Kay didn’t spend five years doubling majoring in architecture and agriculture to be distracted by a lost prince. especially not on her first big presentation.
“Don’t flatter yourself N’Jadaka. I read the daily news blasts.” Kay waved her right wrist, heavy and strong with the kimoyo beads she’d received her first week working with Shuri.
“Everything is easier with these, I promise! It’s synced with your Pad so you’ll never have to worry about lost files. You’ll be able to chat with me, send video messages about the site visits and…”
“She reads! I knew you were smart. Could tell by the way you—” Kay shot him a sharp look then, one brow raised, daring him to go on.
Around Kayana, N’Jadaka Udaku had a knack for saying the wrong thing. Well in her opinion. All the girls she worked with in the lab and in the field utterly adored the man, but to Kay he was a pompous, arrogant, admittedly smart but incredibly irritating Golden State Warriors fan. Another glance at Kay told Erik to move onto another subject.
“I thought I told you to call me Erik?”
“I thought I told you to call me Ms. Benton.” Another gust of air, this one followed by a kiss of his teeth. Kay could just barely see it in her periphery. Pink tongue caressing his pearly whites before being swallowed by gleaming gold canines.
“Fine Ms. Benton. What are you working on then, Girl Wonder?”
“That’s your cousin’s name.” Erik rounded the table and pulled a chair out smoothly, settling into it and gazing at her expectantly. “I’m working on the proofs for a few smaller eco-house concepts. We’ve got the ecology of it down, solar panels, self venting spaces, and recycled fibers are easy enough to incorporate, but it’s just the…size.”
“What about it?” Kay ignored the way her stomach flipped when N’Jadaka’s face scrunched together in confusion. She’d been doing that for weeks.
“Do you know how difficult it is to turn a 20 meter space into a fully functioning apartment? I mean, sleeping quarters, laundry, kitchen, and living area. Not to mention it should all be ‘mod-chic’ or whatever brief T’Challa gave to the Board. Shuri was supposed to send someone from product development to help me but—” Kay caught sight of Erik’s grin. Her stomach flipped again and she backpedalled. “But I’m sure I can handle this. I probably don’t need help anyways.”
“Now come on Ms. Benton, you were practically begging for help.”
“I can’t imagine why Shuri would send you.” Any time the two had to work in the same vicinity, Erik spent most of his time trying to distract her and no time on whatever it was he was meant to be doing. After her first week, she’d actually never seen Erik in the lab again. According to Shuri, he wasn’t allowed in anymore.
“I’m the last one to say men and women should be separated, but my cousin…well he’s not helped his case much. Besides, T’Challa’s been gunning for his own lab near the top of the palace, this’ll make things easier for everyone. For now at least.”
N’Jadaka had found his way to Kay outside of the lab; sliding into the seat across from her at lunches, and always suspiciously on her off-site trips, trying to play tour guide. Initially she felt annoyed, she didn’t need a tour guide to do her job. Now-a-days, she was feeling a little different anytime N’Jadaka found her. He was getting to her, as much as she hates to admit it.
“Because I’m probably the only person who’s lived in a 20 meter apartment in this country. Seriously, I know how to live small Kay.” Kayana shot him a glare for the nickname and tried to ignore how genuine he sounded. Erik smirked at the way her lip curled in annoyance. He’d always found that cute.
Kay wasn’t stupid, she’d heard the stories about King N’Jadaka. Ruthless, power-hungry, practically foaming at the mouth for control. It was why she’d avoided him in the first place. But this N’Jadaka was nothing like the stories. He was kind of nice. Still cocky and arrogant, but surprisingly sincere. At least he was with her.
“The key to this is to break up the space. That and you’ve got to use any and every piece of furniture as storage. Hell, use the space under the steps as storage. If something in the space doesn’t have at least two functions, it doesn’t belong.”
For the first time since she’d started working in Wakanda, Erik had brought something useful to the conversation. Not that he wasn’t smart, the guy was brilliant and everyone knew it, especially him. It just seemed that every time he came around Kay, all he could spew were cocky remarks and nicknames he hadn’t earned.
“Are you telling me you’ve found more than one use for a pillow?”
“Ms. Benton, there are plenty of uses for a pillow.” Erik waggled his eyebrows and Kay rolled her eyes, but something in his expression felt wicked and her face heated. “But in all seriousness, yeah. If you get a large enough pillow, they can be used as couch cushions. Hell you could turn the whole bed into a couch and transform the sleeping space into the living space.”
“Do you think we could turn them into curtains instead?”
It went on like that for two hours, Kay and Erik brainstorming. Mostly Kay was questioning how something could serve more than one function and Erik answered back with three different ways to transform the singly-functional to multi-functional.
“I’m impressed.” Kay was loathe to admit it, especially with the way Erik’s full lips pulled up into a smirk. By now they were both standing, they’d both paced the circumference of the office pod ten times. N’Jadaka approached Kay arms wide in victory.
“And the Girl Wonder begrudgingly admits I know what I’m talking about. You flatter me Kay.”
“Ms. Benton. And I never said you didn’t know that you were talking about.” At least not out loud.
“Seriously? After all that help I still can’t call you Kay?” This time N’Jadaka was a few steps away. “What is it with you and nicknames?” His gaze was calculating and Kay met him head-on.
“Names have power, you of all people should know that N’Jadaka.”
“Bullshit.” N’Jadaka took a step closer. “I’ve heard the girls call you Kay.” Another step. “You even let mean old Mrs. Oyinke call you Kay.” N’Jadaka had made it right in front of Kay, close enough to touch. Kay stood her ground.
“Nicknames have to be earned.” Erik’s brow shot up in surprise. Then he leaned in. Close and closer. Between one breath and the next he was so close that Kay could see his golds glinting through barely parted lips.
“And what exactly do I need to do to earn it then?”
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A/N: Hi everyone! I hope y’all are doing okay in Quarantine and staying safe. I obvi haven’t been writing much, but I’m hoping to change that once I finish a few more projects.
I started a new job last month and somehow get to work from home so there’s really no reason why I can’t keep working on The Advocate after I fix a few things around the house. I’m excited about that!
I hope y’all liked this one. Pretty sure I’ll never write smut but I like to tease the possibility of the chance of a kiss like an 80 year old victorian spinster lol
I was inspired by the Youtube channel Never Too Small. Even if y’all aren’t into design you should check out a few videos because what people can do with small spaces is literally ingenious!
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Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)
Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl @fd-writes
#bp fic#my writing#mine#Earn It#erik killmonger x black!oc#Erik Killmonger#erik killmonger fic#quaratine writing challenge
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29 for Trimberly please?
29. you’re leaving for something dangerous and i can’t help but kiss you
This is not how Trini imagined their first kiss would go. She pictured something quieter. A chunk of pavement goes over her head close enough for her to hear the fizzle of it against her helmet. Something softer. Something that could be just theirs. Maybe moonlight. Maybe just their power coins like nightlights in her bedroom, glowing on her bedspread.
Zack slams into her side and knocks her over.
“Shit,” he says through the comms. He sounds dizzy and too far away. “When did you get here?”
Trini stands on unsteady legs. She sees a flash of red on one side, blue on the other, but her eyes are only on Kim.
“One of us has to get to the top of this,” Jason calls, dodging a sea of putties.
Trini makes it through three putties easily, ducking and dodging flying debris as she picks a straight path to Kim. She knows Jason can’t get to the center of the mess. Billy is too far away. Zack is too winded. And Kim is too good in the sky to waste on the ground. It’s her. She’s the one who has to go.
But she’s not going without knowing what it feels like to kiss Kimberly Hart.
Everything was too fast when they defeated Rita. She could hardly keep up. She watched Kim - all of them - sink into the fire and all she could think was that she wasted too much. She spent her time pushing Kim away. She wasted days and hours and minutes she could have been using to get to know Kim. They went into the fire and all she could think was, I’m not wasting any more time.
A puttie swings at her head and she goes low, sweeping it to dust. Kim cuts another down. Trini spins, breaking a puttie to pieces. She takes out four more, gets four feet closer to Kim. Again and again and again.
And then she’s there, right in front of Trini. And she’s taking down her armor and she’s stepping closer and she’s-
Kissing. She’s kissing Trini.
Kimberly Hart is kissing her, their teeth knocking together until they settle lip to lip. She can taste concrete dust and strawberry lip gloss. She can feel Kim’s skin under her fingers. She pushes in closer until their armor sings where it meets.
“Go,” Kim breathes into her mouth. “I’ll cover you.”
(more prompts)
#anon says...#trimberly#yooooo i have a fic i need to finish for them but this quaratine life got me waaaaay down#maybe i'll work on that on my day off of work
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OUT OF CONTEXT FIC LINES
also bring lube pls i need u to fuck me like zuko needs to find his honour
—stitch up any wounds and heal the scars they leave behind by soniclipstick (veriscence)
#shit post#batman and robin#batman#red robin#red hood#tim drake#jason todd#jaytim#quaratine#ao3#fic#batman fic#out of context
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