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#you could possibly know but why would you try
thegoldencontracts · 3 days
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Jealous!Dormheads
Riddle can't help it; he seethes. He's well aware it's improper, petty, childish, and more, but can you truly blame him? Sometimes it feels as if you spend more time with those friends of yours than with him. He'll tell you directly how he feels, that he isn't upset with you, but- could you possibly spare some more time for your partner?
Leona is all too used to this feeling. The bitterness of being in second place, the resentment for the person in first. And now it's in one of the few close relationships he has. He'll bottle up his resentment for a while, but at a point, you notice how much more standoffish he's gotten recently. Even if you wish he'd been more direct in telling you, you get where he's coming from.
Azul's reaction is pointed, petty. He'll purposefully bring it up during your conversations to gauge your reaction. Oh, you want aid with classwork? He can't, you know how he is, and don't you want Riddle's help more either way? It's rather painfully obvious. And yet, once you manage to confront him about it, he can't help but soften up. An apology slips from his lips rather quickly. He simply wanted- well- Oh, look at that, he has to go. The realization of how mortifying his behavior is makes him want to crawl into an octopus pot right then and there.
Kalim is confused. Why exactly is he feeling this way? What's going on with him? He's way more upset about you spending so much time with others , and it's bad, he knows, but- he just feels like you spend way less time with him. He'll tell you everything, how he feels, how stupid he feels for feeling the way he does, just- Would you mind spending a bit more time with him?
Vil is completely aware of how immature jealousy is. He knows. You're not going to leave him for those friends of yours, that's a foolish notion. So... Why does he still feel so terrible? Envy is the one sin he's never been able to evade, it seems. He can't help but try to prove his own worth as a partner to you. Do you need tutoring? He's rather proficient with the subject you're studying.
Idia just wants to hide in his room forever at this point. Why, of all things, does he have to experience the most cliche dating sim trope all of a sudden? And the one time he managed to find IRL romance? He's not telling you anything. He's not trying to be petty, either, he just kind of... Tried to act as unaffected as he can. He's not very good at it, though, and Ortho informs you of what's going on after a bit.
Malleus is confused. What is this peculiar emotion he's experiencing? What exactly makes him feel such a pang in his chest when he sees you in close proximity with others? He spends a good chunk of time in a library, attempting to figure out if he's contracted an illness. Then he talks to Lilia about it. He's "jealous", then? And this issue can be solved by talking to you more? That's a perfect solution! The next day, you can't help but notice that Malleus is more talkative than usual.
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i-yap · 3 days
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Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)
( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)
Dick grayson -
opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .
Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.
You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.
But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.
It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.
When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline
Jason todd
he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange
till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.
Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.
He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.
When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely
Tim drake
he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?
He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.
If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.
Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.
" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"
He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.
AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more
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Hopeful
Soft! Jackson Joel Miller x Neurodivergant/ ADHD F!reader
Summary: Joel hasn't felt hopeful since before the outbreak, that is before he meets you when he arrives in Jackson. Hes falling for you, but you couldn't possible fee the same way, could you?
Soft! Jackson Joel miller x Neurodivergant\ ADHD reader AU
MDNI 18+ NSFW
Warnings: unspecified age gap (i wrote this with reader in her early 30s and Joel in is early 50s but no ages are specifically said) soft Joel, concerned Joel, protective Joel, Neurodivergant, audio overstimulation, anxiety. He falls first. Match maker Ellie. Smut. Oral (F! receiving) Fingering, heavy make out sessions. Joel's chatty. body imagine issues, low self-esteem. Swearing, dirty talk. Praise.
A/N: Man this story really got away from me! what i thought would be a short story turned out to be rather length but im proud as hell of this story and i hope you enjoy!
There’s not a lot of descriptors about reader other than eye color and mentions of curves/ plush but they can easily be changed.
Hopeful.
Hopeful wasn’t something Joel felt since before the outbreak. But when he met you, it started brewing slow and low just below the surface until he couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t push it away any longer. You made him feel hopeful.
“Dude if you stare much longer the whole town is gonna notice.” Ellie teases as she jabs Joel with her elbow.
“Oh stop it, I wasn’t staring”
“You’ve been looking at her for like 10 minutes, just go sit with her”
Joel turns away quickly feeling his face getting red. He thought he was doing a better job of keeping his fondness for you hidden. He figured there was no way you’d share the same feelings, why would you like a guy like him? Old, beat up, and someone the whole town talked about. He figured there just wasn’t any way.
“She don’t want me bothering her” Joel shrugs
“Im not lying when I say she asks about you when you haven’t been to the stables yet.”
A slight smile tugs at Joel’s lips, he always asks Ellie about you too.
“Go sit with her”Ellie nudges him
Joel let’s out a nervous sigh and makes his way over to your table.
You’re fully engrossed in your book that you don’t notice Joel standing there for a moment.
“Is this seat taken darlin’?”
You don’t even have to look to know it’s Joel, you’d know his voice anywhere.
You chuckle, looking up at him with that smile and those big beautiful hazel eyes he loved so much.
“What’s funny?”
“Unless Ellie and Dina are sitting with me, that seats never taken”
Joel frowns at your comment.
“You want some company? It ok if I sit?”
“I’d love some” you say trying not too seem to eager but your bursting with butterflies over Joel wanting to sit with you. Your smile happens automatically, like it always does with Joel.
You’d been fond of Joel since him and Ellie arrived in Jackson. Despite all the whispers about him in town, his presence always calmed you in a way nobody ever had, you couldn’t explain it even if you tried. You absolutely adored Ellie from the moment you met her, Joel always telling you she trusts you in a way he’s never seen before.
The two of you fall into comfortable small talk as you both finish breakfast.
“Didn’t see you at the town dance last night”
“That’s because I didn’t go, you went?”
“Well Ellie and Dina wanted to go cause they’re always reading about dances in the diaries they find, so I went too. Plus Ellie’s always teasin’ me that I need to get out more”
“I don’t normally go to stuff like that, I’m too awkward and I don’t want people asking me to dance because they feel bad.”
“Now I’m sure there would be lots of people who’d like to dance with you” Joel has all he can do not to tell you he’d show up to dance with you everytime if he knew you’d be there.
“That’s really kind of you to say, but incase you haven’t noticed the people here don’t really know how to take me.”
“You headin to the stables?” Joel already knows the answer. He knows it’s not your day to work at the stables but he asks anyways because he doesn’t want the conversation to end.
“ No, today I’m working on getting the little town library set up, now that you and Tommy are finished building the shelves, I’d like to open it soon.”
“Y’need any help? I’m off my normal duties today”
“Oh no, it’s ok. You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to bother you on your free time”
“It’s really no trouble at all, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to help” Joel’s jokes, smiling at you.
Your laugh.
He’d give anything to hear your laugh over and over again.
“And I guess I wouldn’t accept if I didn’t want help and company” you teased back, trying to stifle the giggle that bubbles up.
She wants company, my company?
The two you you load up the first wagon full of books and wheel across the center of town to the little store front soon to be the The Jackson Town Library.
“Here we can unload them. Then I can keep making the trips back and forth with the cart while you set them up in the shelves”
“Sounds like a deal to me. Why don’t we make like 3-4 trips and stop for the day. Because if not we’re both the type of people to work on our whole day off.”
“You got yourself a deal sweetheart”
Joel can’t help but smile as he turns to make the second trip. There was just something about the way you made him feel at ease, that he couldn’t get over.
When Joel returned with the second load of books he found you and Ellie chatting as she was helping you.
“What was it like to have a birthday party and sleepovers?” Ellie asks you.
“What makes you ask that?” You ask chuckling a little.
“Well I’ve been reading about them in the people from before the outbreaks diaries but I never had either of them”
“They were fun for a lot of people, I um didn’t really have a lot of friends, so my birthday parties were always mostly family. And I only ever went to a few sleep overs. I was always so excited to be included when I got to go to them.”
It breaks Joel’s heart listening to you and Ellie talking. It wasn’t fair that Ellie never got to experience what life was like before the outbreak, never really getting a childhood. Hearing you talking about how hard and lonely your life was even as a child tore him up. You were different sure, but you had a heart of gold. You were so caring, always supporting everyone who needed something and all you wanted was love and care in return.
He wanted to be that person for you so badly, the one who made your heart soar with all the love and support you never had. To be the one to make you laugh on the good days and take you into his arms and take the pain away on the bad days.
He’s not sure exactly when he started to fall for you, but it was coming on faster and stronger by the day.
“My birthday is next weekend, could I have a birthday party?”
You looked up locking eyes with Joel
“Of course you can, we can throw you a birthday party Ellie” you smile at him as you answer.
We. She wants to help me throw a birthday party for Ellie? There’s no bounds to how wonderful and caring this woman is.
“ I of course want to invite you, Dina, Jesse, Ethan, uncle Tommy and Maria. Ooo can I have a sleep over?”
“No boys are sleeping over”
You can’t help but laugh at Joel’s abrupt response.
“Eww no of course not, but Dina and (y/n) could stay over couldn’t they?”
“ yes if they want to they are more then welcome”
“Oh this is awesome, I gotta go tell everyone!”
“Wait, shouldn’t you ask if (y/n) wants too?” Joel’s looking at you to gage your reaction
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world”
Ellie smiles wildly as she runs out of the store front.
——————————————————————
The day came for Ellie’s party, and you loaded up your wagon with all the supplies and headed over there early to help set up.
“Jesus you’ve got a lot of stuff, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble”
“I know but I really wanted to make this as special as I could for her. She deserves to have the experiences she never got too”
Your big heart made Joel’s soar, you were so kind and thoughtful.
“ I do have a big surprise for her, for all the kids really”
“Oh yea? What do you have up your sleeve?” Joel teases.
“So I went through some boxes that had been in the house in one of the closets. I never bothered to before because it’s not like I really have a lot of stuff so they weren’t in the way. But I wanted to see if there was anything I could use for Ellie’s party and man I hit the jackpot”
Joel just smirks and raises a eyebrow signaling you to continue.
“Well one I found another Will Livingston pun book, which she’s going to love and I found a Nintendo console with a bunch of game cartridges. I figured we could teach the kids how to play and then Ellie can keep it”
There it is again, we. Maybe I’m reading into this to much. But I can’t help but feel like she actually likes spending time with me.
“Shit, they’re all going to love it! Man I haven’t played with one of these in ages”
“Me either, I was never any good at them and the sounds drove me crazy”
Joel relished moments like this, when you pulled back the curtain you shielded yourself with and let him see you.
You sat there completely content and full of joy watching Joel teach the kids how to play each game before he joined you on the couch as they went crazy battling each other.
As the kids cheer and the Mario music blasts Joel looks over to see you struggling. Your eyes shut tightly, chest rising and falling quicker than normal
“Hey, want to have a drink in the kitchen?” Joel whispers as he places his hand lightly on your arm.
“Please” you whisper, embarrassed that Joel saw you like that.
You sit at the kitchen table while Joel takes out two glasses with ice and pours whiskey doubles into them.
“Everything alright darlin’?” Joel ask as he takes his seat sliding your glass over to you.
“Oh..yea..everything’s alright” you say staring down at the amber liquid. Embarrassment flooding your system.
“I ain’t gonna push you if you don’t want to talk and I know I probably ain’t your first choice of someone to talk to, but just know you can talk to me.”
Joel desperately wants to know about your struggles, what makes you the way you are. He wants to be the one that helps you through life, the one who makes the bad days good and the good days better. But he pushes aside the thoughts that you’d want to be more than just friends, if you even considered him that. Because after all why would a girl like you like someone like him, could he really be that lucky?
You think about your answer for a few beats, and realize there’s no use trying to lie to Joel. There was just something about Joel that was comforting, that made you feel safe, but in a different way than the way you felt with Tommy you just couldn’t put your finger on it.
“No its not at all like that. I like talking to you.” You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes light up a little.
“It’s just….I usually just retreat into myself, it’s easier that way. Most people don’t want to hear about my weird issues that can’t be solved with a why don’t you just ignore it?, why can’t you just change? Can’t you be a little less weird?” You said with a defeated shrug.
You wanted to talk to Joel, but part of you hoped he would just change the subject and move on. Because your quiet sure he doesn’t actually want to hear about your ADHD and all the weird idiosyncrasies that came with it.
“Well I’m not most people” he drawled as he lightly touched your arm. Nodding his head to encourage you to continue.
Truthfully he wanted to hear anything you wanted to tell him, Joel wanted to be your comfort point, the person that you went to for anything. To be the person you felt the safest with, to let your tired shoulders relax from holding up that wall around yourself. Letting your true self shine, free from judgement and surrounded by the love you deserve.
“I have sensory issues, especially with audio and textures. It’s hard to explain and it’s been along time since anyone wanted me too, so bare with me because some of this isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense.”
“You take all the time you need sweetheart, there no rush or pressure. I’m here for you”
Joel can’t help but notice your eyes soften and body langue relax a little when you realize he’s got you, that he’s hear for you and truly listening.
“I get overwhelmed easily by a lot of sounds happening at once, like in there with the sounds of the game and all the yelling and cheering at the same time makes my brain feel scrambled up. Like I can’t sort any of it out, it just sounds like one big mixing bowl of sounds. And when that happens I get anxious, my heart starts to pound, my ears ring and sometimes I lash out coming off to aggressive in the moment to try and make it stop.”
“ you’ve been around enough at the stables, you’ve probably heard me come on a little to strong with a razor sharpe tongue when it all gets to much. I always feel so bad, I never mean to snap. But sometimes when it’s so overwhelming it’s like I have no control of my tongue and I just blurt it out before I even realize I’m saying anything.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask me anything you’d like and I’ll do my best to answer”
“I don’t want this to come out wrong, I’m realizing now this might sound a little weird. But I’ve noticed you fuss with your clothes, like your pulling them away from your skin constantly, is-is that part of the sensitivity?”
You can’t help but look at Joel for a few beats to long, stunned by his question. Not because of the way he worded it but because of the context of his question, that fact that he’s picked up on your discomfort and is curious about it instead of just asking why you can’t just deal with it like everyone else ever has.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean t’make you uncomfortable” Joel says taking your silence as a bad sign.
“No, you didn’t at all. I just got lost in the thought of you being so observant but always wanting to know.”
“I always want to ask if your alright but I never want to pry, I know you like your space”
You can’t help the smile that dances across your face.
“You can ask me anything Joel, if I’m not comfortable answering I’d tell you.”
“But yes, the clothing thing is part of it. The texture of some fabrics against me make me want to crawl out of my skin. It’s hard sometimes for me to fall asleep too because the way the blankets and sheets touch my skin doesn’t feel right. I know it’s weird, I can’t really explain it.”
“It’s not just with clothing or fabric either, it’s physical touch too, which is the worst to get people to understand. I hate being touched, the feeling of most people touching me makes my skin crawl. And they love to brush it off by being like oh well I’m a huggy person or oh I’m just a touchy person so it’s ok.”
“I’m sorry, I know Ellie hugs you all the time and I know I touched you earlier”
“See now this is the most frustrating and complicated part about this. There are people like you, Ellie and Tommy that are in my bubble that I’m comfortable with, that I trust, that that kind of contact is welcome from.”
She likes when I touch her? Am I a welcome presence for her? I’ll drive myself crazy thinking about this too hard, but maybe just maybe she’s trying to tell me she feels the same as I do?
“Then the flip side of it is that there are also sounds that bring me so much comfort, like songs that I could listen to on repeat without batting an eye. The sound of someone’s voice that brings me back to earth when the anxiety is unrelenting. A scent that soothes me beyond explanation.”
Joel can’t help but let his thoughts run wild, indulging in the thought that you might be talking about him. He’s about to ask about your comment when Ellie barges into the kitchen.
“Oh sorry to interrupt” she says when she realizes you two are deep in conversation.
“Oh no it’s ok, you probably just saved me from really embarrassing myself” you chuckle
Joel doesn’t miss the way you stiffen up, as if you feel like you’ve said to much.
“ I’m ready to watch my birthday movie but I’m also really ready for the guys to leave so it’s just the four of us, could you kick them out?”
“ course I can do that, we’ll be right in”
You quickly get up from the table to follow after Ellie.
“Hang on, sweetheart” Joel says softly as he reaches for your arm.
“Can-can I give you a hug? Or rather would you like a hug?”
You can feel the embarrassment really take hold as you pull your eyes to the floor. He had no idea how much you wanted a hug from him and you had no idea how badly he wanted to hug you.
“I would like that” you said meekly as you nod your head. If Joel wasn’t listening intently, hanging on your every word he would of missed it
He takes a few steps closer to you hesitating for a couple beats before he wraps his arms you.
As if you’d been waiting for this moment, your entire body relaxes under his touch. Joel can’t help but notice they way you bury your head into his chest as you wrap your arms around him tighter. The way you stay there in his arms for longer than he expects, like your completely at ease in this moment.
“Thank you….thank you for listening. For letting me talk.” You whisper
“Thank for trusting me, for letting me in” he whispers back.
——————————————————————
It had been a few months since Ellie’s birthday party and Joel couldn’t help but boil over with happiness at seeing more of you. You started coming around often and listening to him play guitar on the porch after your walks with Ellie. You started joining them for family meals more in the mess hall, though Joel couldn’t tell you he called them that- not yet anyway.
Because honestly he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to decide he wasn’t the type of person you wanted to spend alot of time with. It’s why he didn’t press you on wether or not you were coming to his birthday gathering at the tipsy bison tonight that Tommy was putting together. He didn’t want you to feel pressured.
You slip into the dimly lit tipsy bison about 45 minutes before Joel’s party is supposed to end. You were so nervous to come, that it took alot for you to actually leave the house. You realize as you slip into a table in the dark back corner that you also forgot his present at home too.
Somethings seriously wrong with me when I remember to bring my security book and not this man’s damn present.
You scan the room and see Joel and Tommy talking to a few people at the bar. Nervous about interrupting you open up your book and try to block out all the loud chatter.
Joel scans the small crowd hoping to see you when he over hears Caleb talking to Tommy.
“Why would she come to something like this if she’s not going to speak to anyone?”
Joel follows Caleb’s motion, feeling a tugging in his chest when he lays eyes on you. You’re sitting in the dark corner of the Tipsy Bison hunched over your book, rubbing your finger back and forth on the cover. Something Joel picked up on that you do when your anxious as a way to sooth yourself.
“Sorry we can’t all be rays of fucking sunshine like you” Joel hears Ellie snap back as he’s making his way over to you.
The closer he gets to you the more his heart pounds. When was the last time I ever felt like this if ever. Joel doesn’t know when it started happening but he can’t fight it any longer, he’s falling for you hard and fast like a fright train. You consume his every thought, which terrifies the hell out of him but he can’t turn back now, not even if he tried.
“Hey there sweetheart, you came” for one fleeting moment Joel feels nervous, maybe you don’t want to be bothered because after all you didn’t even tell him you were here. But that all melts away the moment you look at him. The smile that touches your eyes, the shimmer of happiness that dances across your face.
“Hey!”
“It ok to join you?”
“Of course, I’d love that. As long as I’m not taking your time away from anyone else?”
“There isn’t one person in here I’d rather talk to”
The way you beam up at him as you quickly but your book back in you’re bag says it all. This is another sign of yours that Joel’s picked up on, you only do this when you’re comfortable and want to talk to someone. You always do this when you see him, he trys so hard not to read into that but at this point it’s impossible.
The two of you sit and talk for a bit. You can’t help but be consumed by all things Joel when you were around him, and you loved that. The way he looked at you like you were the only other person in the world or the way he made you feel when ever he was near was both to much snd not enough. Your feelings for him charging full steam ahead, there’s no way you’d stop them even if you had the option.
But could he really feel the same?
“Well I should go I don’t want to take you away from your friends to long”
“Oh, let me walk you home”
“No no it’s ok, I’ll be alright, it’s your party” you say frowning, not wanted to inconvenience him in any way.
“Sweetheart…I can promise you most these people ain’t here for me”
You pause for a few beats
“Ok, in that case I’d love that” unable to control the sincere wild smile that dances across your lips at the thought of Joel Miller walking you home.
“Um ah- would you like to come in for a minute? I ah have a gift for you but I forgot it when I left for your party” you smile sheepishly up at Joel as you reach your little house.
“You have a gift for me?”
“Yea…I made you a birthday present”
Joel follows you inside your house, and instantly the scent of you is filling his senses. He watches as your disappear down the hall and into a room, unsure if he can follow you mixed with not wanting to scare you has him staying in the kitchen.
“Here it’s not much, but I wanted to do something” you say nervously handing him the small gift wrapped in a scrap piece of fabric.
You lean back against the counter as Joel takes the gift, unwrapping the corded string holding the fabric around the gift like wrapping paper.
You’re overcome with anxiety watching him, making it near impossible to look at him. What if he doesn’t like it? What if it’s to much? Joel doesn’t miss the way your fidgeting around nervously.
As Joel pulls back the last fold of fabric he reveals a smallish leather bound note book. As he turns it over in his hands the light catches right for him to notice stitched into the cover in a slightly different colored string than the leather is his name.
“You made this for me? Christ it must of taken forever” Joel asks as he runs this fingers over the the letters.
“D-do you like it? I hope it’s not to much?” You say sheepishly, retreating into yourself as your wrap your arms around yourself.
“No no, it ain’t like that. I love it, I’m just surprised you took the time to make something for me of all people.”
“It took me about two months to do, because I worked on it when I had the energy after rounds at the stables. But I wanted to do something special for you, because.. well because your special to me. When I heard you saying your note book for your patrol and maintenance notes was almost full I got the idea to make this without knowing how to go about it”
“Nobody’s ever done anything like this more me before. Is it ok if I give you a hug sweetheart?”
When Joel takes you into his arms he expects you to be tense before you relax like the few times before,but not this time. No this time was different, this time you melted under his touch immediately burying your face in his chest. He can’t help but think maybe you’ve been needing his touch, his comfort as much as he needs yours.
You feel him pull back from the hug, making you painfully aware you held on to him for a few beats to long. You’re anxiety takes over as you pull back, you’re gaze dropping to the floor immediately.
“Sorry. Sorry, I made that weird”
“Give yourself some credit sweetheart, you never make anything weird. I just wanted to look at you, that’s all”
Pulling your gaze back up, your met with his beautiful deep brown eyes. They’re filled with a soft tenderness as he reaches up caressing the curve of your cheek.
Joel’s large warm hand comes to cup the side of your face, smoothing his calloused thumb back and forth over your cheek bone. His heart thunders in his chest when you lean into his touch, looking more free than he’s ever seen you. Almost as if you’re letting him see a glimpse of yourself from before the world fell apart. He also sees a lightness in your body language that he only notices when the two of you are together.
His eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes a few times, trying to search for any fear or discomfort.
Fuck it.
Your eyes flutter closed as Joel’s lips connect with yours in a soft and tender kiss. Your mind in desperately trying to process everything as Joel takes your stillness as hesitation and pulls away at the exact moment you brain catches up.
“Sorry I misre-“
“Wait, Do it again” you whisper
Joel grabs both sides of your face as he lowers himself back down connecting with your soft lips again. Only this time you don’t hesitate, you return the kiss as you bring your hands to loop round his neck, your fingers sinking into the hair at the nape of his neck. Joel skims his hands down your sides resting them on your hips, a action that makes you gasp as you tilt you’re head up.
“Is this ok?” He whispers as he pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“Yes” you whisper back, running your fingers deeper into his dark graying hair. This action unlocks something deep inside Joel as he hooks his one hand around your lower back and the other around the back of your head pulling you closer to him. When you resume kissing it’s more passionate and frantic than before and as Joel licks along the seam of your bottom lip begging for entrance you tilt your head up immediately allowing him to deepen the kiss. As your warm wet tongues dance together the grip you two have on each other tightens. Neither of you wanting to show the other how terrified you both are of the other slipping through your fingers if you not holding on for dear life.
As you both pull back to catch your breath you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.
“I guess it’s safe to say you liked your present?”
“It’s safe to say I like more than just the present sweetheart”
He can’t possibly be saying what I think he’s saying can he?”
“I’d invite you to watch a movie but I moved the only tv into the bedroom because it helps me sleep alone and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”
What I wouldn’t give to spend every night next to her. I never want her to feel alone.
“I’d be more than comfortable with that but only if you are”
Christ I could get lost in the big hazel eyes of hers.
“I honestly would love that” youre trying to hide your smile not wanting to come off too eager but it’s impossible.
You lead the way to your bedroom, once inside you gesture to the bed, “you can pick the movie and make your yourself comfortable I’ll be right back.”
You beeline it for the bathroom, splashing some water on your face and looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a few deep breaths trying to tamp down the anxiety.
Did I really just invite Joel Miller to watch a movie with me in my bed and he accepted? When did I get so bold?
Making your way back to the bedroom you see Joel sitting up with his back against the wall with the few pillows against the wall next to him.
The way your smiling at him makes him feel like it’s just you and him in this world, I feeling that nobody has ever given him before.
“Why don’t you have any pillows you rest your back on?” You say as you settle in next to him.
“I just want to make sure your comfortable, I’ll be fine”
You laugh, that beautiful laugh Joel has come to love so much.
“Well I certainly don’t need all of these, you should be comfortable too” you say as you hand him a couple.
Joel absolutely melts at this action. It speaks volumes to him that your advocating for his comfort as well as your own without even thinking about it or being asked too.
As he’s settling back against the pillows Joel notices you rolling one of your shoulders back as it’s it’s bothering you.
“You alright sweetheart? I’ve been noticing you rolling youre shoulder a lot this week, it botherin’ you?”
“Oh yea… it’s fine, I just tweaked it at the stables. Shimmers stables doors been sticking and the saddles are a little high for me sometimes, but it’s fine. I just gotta go easy on it for a bit”
Joel feels a wave of concern mixed with anger, but not with you with himself.
I should of asked sooner, she shouldn’t be getting hurt at work because of something I could of helped fixed. I need to go down there and fix something.
“ let me take a look at it sweetheart”
You’re embarrassed, your sure he thinks your the biggest idiot as you turn facing your back to him.
“Where does it hurt?”
“It hurts kind of along my shoulder blade”
Joel starts feeling along your shoulder blade applying light pressure.
“Ugh right in there” you quietly groan
“It’s a little swollen, maybe a pinched nerve…I could rub it, try to work it out for y’ou if you’d be comfortable with that.”
“Wait…really?”
“Please don’t feel like you have too, it’s ok”
“It’s no trouble sweetheart”
Joel helps you settle back between his legs as he slips his hand into the neck of your shirt messaging his thumb along your shoulder.
Joel doesn’t miss the relaxed sigh you breath out as your eyes get heavy and you slowly fall back until your back is completely flush again his chest, your head on his shoulder.
He wraps his arms around you tightly, looking down to see you completely asleep in his arms. He leans down softy placing a kiss on your forehead. Warmth slowly creeps up his spine, over his shoulders and deep into his chest. This is what safety feels like, you- are what safety feels like. Joel doesn’t have to have his walls up with you. He can relax, let his guard down, not have to be in a constant state of fight or flight around you. The more Joel let’s this realization consume him, the heavier his eyes get and before he can stop it he starts dozing off.
He snaps awake 10 minutes later to the feeling of you squirming in his arms followed by the sounds of mumbles and whimpers in your sleep. You cry out briefly before you roll over, clutching him with your head buried in the crook of his and your chest flush against his own. Joel can feel your heart pounding against his chest.
“Shhhh baby girl it’s ok, I got you. You’re with me. Your safe” Joel speaks softly rubbing his hands up and down your back.
The moment you hear his voices, the tension drains from your body and your cry’s stop as you fully relax against him.
“Don’t leave me please…I need you ” you’re soft voice speaks against his neck
Joel holds you tightly, unable to shake the memory of you telling him that someone’s voice was soothing to you, that it made you at ease when ever you heard it. He’s 100% confident that you were talking about him.
“Im not goin’ anywhere sweetheart” Joel says as he squeezes you tighter and kisses the crown of your head.
Your so incredibly raw and vulnerable in the moment as you look up at him, your eyes swirling with comfort mixed with fear as you sleepily sit up.
——————————————————————
The next time Joel opens his eyes it’s early morning, your curled up to him, your head on his chest. He can’t help but think he won the lottery. The idea that a women like you would take comfort in him, that you’d want him by you’re side. Joel will make it his mission to make sure you never feel alone again, that he’s by your side for the rest of your life. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you in his life because he sure as hell didn’t feel like he deserved it.
Joel’s pulled from his thoughts by you sleepily stretch and sitting up. His hand is firmly on your lower back keeping you steady.
“You sleep ok?” He asks slipping his hand under your shirt to rub your lower back.
“I don’t think I’ve slept that deeply since before the outbreak, I’ve never really been a good sleeper”
Christ she’s so beautiful first thing in the morning, givin’ me that cute sleepy smile as she tells me how she slept well next to me.
“Where you able to sleep?”
I can’t tell her I slept better than I have In 20 something years.
“I did get some sleep”
“You hungry? We could go grab Ellie and get breakfast in the mess hall”
Ellie. Fuck I have no idea if any of this is ok with Ellie. I can’t do this to her. I don’t want to drive a wedge between her and Joel or her and I. She’s been though enough I don’t want her to think I’m trying to break up there family.
“ Oh, no it’s ok. You go a head I’m sure you and Ellie have stuff to do today” you say as you you stiffen to sit up straight, the feeling of panic crashing in like a wave.
“No it’s no trouble at all, she should just be over Dina’s anyway” Joel feels your body going ridged, he can tell by your eyes that somethings changing.
“ I have so much to do at the library still before it can open, I’m really not hungry. I’ll just grab something before breakfast ends.” You say swinging your legs over the side of the bed and hurriedly looking for clean clothes.
Joel feels it, he sees it your body langue that somethings wrong. He doesn’t know what flipped the switch but he’s desperate to fix it.
“You should take it easy on your shoulder, rest it so it don’t get worse”
Your body relaxes, your eyes softening briefly at him being protective, showing concern for your health before going ridged again.
“I promise I’ll go easy on my shoulder, I just desperately need to get some projects done. Everyone’s counting on me to get it done and open soon.” Your voice sounds strained and pleading like your trying to convince yourself and much as you are him that you believe what your saying.
“Can I at-least walk you there?”
The walk into town was quiet, neither of you saying much. Just the silent sound of you both battling your own inner self doubt.
“You sure you don’t want breakfast?”
“I’m sure….I’m not very hungry” your voice is soft and strained, almost as if your trying to hold back tears.
Joel cups your face pulling your gaze up to meet his.
“You let me know if you need anything sweetheart, can’t have you hurtin’ your shoulder worse.” Joel drawls before leaning in, closing the gap and placing a soft kiss to your lips. You return the kiss briefly as you run your fingers over his patchy beard.
“I promise I’ll go easy on myself”
Joel can’t shake the feeling that somethings wrong. You never skip breakfast because you get very hangry if you don’t eat in the morning.
Did I scare her? Did I move to fast? Did I make her uncomfortable in some way?
It hits Joel like a ton of bricks as he turn onto his street.
Ellie. She’s worried about how Ellie will feel about us. She’s worried it will drive a wedge between her and I or with them.
Joel stops up the steps and frantically grabs his tool bag.
“Your to old to be staying out all night and then doing a terrible job sneaking back in the next morning” Ellie teases behind Joel.
“I gotta do some extra work in the work shop and at the stables but when your done with your green house shift, we need to talk”
Joel’s never had a way with words like most people, he’s never been eloquent speaker. His love language more came in the form of acts of severance or in words of affirmation. He spends the next few hours building a safe sturdy step stool for the saddles, fixing not just Shimmers stable door but all the horses stables doors so none of them had the possibility to stick and tinkering around and fixing up anything he could find.
You stay at the library for several hours trying completely the simplest tasks, but without much success. Your just going through the motions as your mind is a mile away, thinking about Joel.
Resigning to the fact that you were getting nothing done, you decided to go home to take a hot shower to sooth your racing mind.
As the hot water streams over your body and the steam fills your lungs your mind drifts to Joel. You haven’t stopped thinking about how you can still feel his lips on yours. How he makes you feel seen and heard without any judgement what so ever.
Youre heart aches from how deep your feelings for Joel go, even if it feels like you don’t deserve having him in your life. But you need to apologize to him for how abruptly you retreated back into yourself when the feelings felt to real this morning.
Joel’s nursing a glass of whisky when Ellie gets back from her shift at the green house.
“What’s up Joel, everything alright?”
“Yea, nothin’ bad I just, I like someone and wanna talk about it”
“Oh congrats, your getting soft in your old age. Did you finally become friends with your horse”
“Jerk, no I like a woman. I like a woman, I wanna date her. But are you ok with that?”
“Your so bad at this, why are you being so awkward?”
“We’ll Christ, I’ve never done this before, had this kind of talk. I never brought anyone around Sarah. I don’t know what I’m doing”
“Wait… is this about Y/N?”
Joel nods cautiously
“Man you really are dense aren’t you?” Ellie playfully pokes.
“What’s so funny?”
“Joel.. I’ve been trying to set you up with her since we got here. Tommy’s been helping too”
“What? Really? You’re ok with it?”
“You guys are perfect for each other, it’s so obvious you two really care about each other, at least it is too me because I get to spend time with you guys together away from everyone else.”
Joel just stairs at her stunned
“Look I never wanted to admit this because it sounds stupid, but the times when it’s just you, me and her…it’s feels like we’re a family, like I actually have the family I’ve been dying to have my whole life. She got to know us and excepted us the way we are without listening to all the whispers around town and I think that’s fucking beautiful.”
“I gotta go see her”
“I swear to god Joel don’t fuck this up, she’s the happiness we both deserve, but yes, go to her, go right now”
Joels out of the house and down the street before his brain catches up.
Your scrambling around the house trying to get dressed as fast as you can before you get to anxious and decide not to go to Joel’s when you hear a knock at the door.
“The book drop off box is on the porch” you yell down the hall, figuring someone was trying to pick up or drop off books they borrowed since you weren’t at the library. But you hear who ever is is knock again.
“The book pick up is also on the porch” you yell again hoping the person hears you and gets the point,but they do it yet again. Completely flustered at this point you rip your shirt down over you head and pad angrily to the door.
“The book drop off and pick…” you aggressively swing the door open, stoping dead in your tracks at who’s on the other side.
“Joel” you whisper in surprise. All you can do is stare for a few beats to long at how the evening light highlights his already beautiful features.
“Sorry, this a bad time sweetheart?”
“No…sorry I just thought you were someone else”
You immediately pick up on his change In body langue and quickly follow up with “I just thought it was someone trying to pick up or drop off books” you watch as he relaxes right away again.
“I…I um was actually on my way over to your place”
Before either if you know it your smashing together in a kiss like two magnet’s. The kiss is all teeth and tongues, it’s desperate and awkward, messy and beautiful. Your both clutching on to each other like the other might fly away as Joel walks you backwards through the door way as he pushing the door closed with his foot.
As you both pull back for air Joel cradles your face with his large hands, caressing your cheek bones with the rough pads of his thumbs. His deep brown eyes lock with you hazel ones ands it’s as if they rest of the world doesn’t exist, like it’s only the two of you left on earth.
“I’m so sorry about this morning, I wasn’t trying to be weird. I-I I just…I scared myself with everything”
“It’s ok sweetheart” Joel says as he kisses you softly.
“I talked to Ellie, she’s ok with us being a thing. Honestly quiet excited about it”
You’re speechless for a moment, as you eyes start to well with tears.
“Joel, you didn’t have to do that, I’m sorry if you felt like you had too”
“I did have too, because it’s important to me”
“It’s…it’s important to me that you did”
At hearing that Joel lunges forward again capturing your lips in a kiss pulling you flush against his chest. He swallows the gasp that escapes your lips when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth. You snake your arms around his neck tugging the hair at the nape of his neck. The growl that, that action elicits vibrates through your chest.
“Bedroom?” Joel grits out, his deep voice drips with desire mixed with love.
Joel can’t convince himself otherwise any more, he loves you.
“Bedroom” you echo
Joel’s walking you backwards down the hall to your bedroom when he turns slightly pinning you against the wall just outside your bedroom.
“Are you sure about this sweetheart?” He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you.
You nod your head yes.
“I need to hear you say it sweetheart. I don’t want to push you farther than your comfortable going because i thought it was ok.”
“I’m sure about this Joel, I want it…I want you”
Joel let’s out a low groan as he attaches his lips to your jaw, nipping his way long it until he reaches that soft spot where your jaw meets your neck. He sucks hard and then soothes the spot with his tongue as his hands sneak inside the hem of your shirt squeezing your plush sides. This earns him another tug at his hair as you let out a whimper. Joel’s head spins from how breathless you are already for him and he hopes you can tell how breathless he is for you.
Joel rips his shirt off at the feeling of you raking your hands up and down his chest. He’s been touched starved for so long that the desperate need for your touch, to feel your skin on his takes over.
Most people wouldn’t describe Joel as beautiful, but you always found him to be. You thought as you took in the sight of him shirtless.
Joel watches you nervously as you trace over old scars on his chest. He’s afraid you’ll want to run and hide from him bearing his soul to you in a way he never has or ever wanted too. But the moment you press your lips to the scars on his chest this worry melts away. You pepper every scar you can see across his chest, arms and shoulders with kisses before you make your way to his neck. You sneak your hands around him to slide them up his back as you reach his ear.
“Every part of you is beautiful” you whisper as you kiss along his jaw.
Joel feels dizzy from your words as your lips make it back to his. Never in his life has anyone ever called him beautiful much less been this tender and sensual with him. He can’t get enough, as he grabs at your waist again. Pulling you tightly to him as he presses you firmly again the wall causing your shirt to ride up.
“It’s ok… you can take it off” you breath
Joel wastes no time ripping your shirt up over your head.
“Your so fuckin’ gorgeous” he growls as you arch into him so he can unhook your bra.
You let the straps slide down your arms until it falls to the floor between the two of you. You’re mind goes blank from Joel’s intense gaze. Slowly he slides his hands up your torso to your breasts. They barely even touched you and your nipples are already hardened peaks. The sensation of him rolling them beneath his slightly calloused thumbs as he’s squeezing your breasts hits you hard. Your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back against the wall, if your not carful you might just climax from this alone.
“Fuck…your skins so soft” Joel growls as he pulls you away from the wall and into your bedroom, not stopping until your legs hit the end of your bed.
His eyes burn right through you as you slid your pants down, leaving yourself in just your panties as you climb on the bed.
The two of you hold each others gaze for a few beats as Joel undoes his belt and steps out of his pants. You instinctually spread your legs to make room for him as the bed dips down. He doesn’t care how long he has to draw this out, Joel’s not stopping until he’s explored every inch of your body. Making you feel like the goddess that he sees you as.
Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his hard outline straining his boxers and back to his eyes. The way he playfully smirks at you makes you realize just how exposed you are to him, making you start to wrap your arms around your body to cover yourself.
“You ok sweetheart?” Joel asks rubbing circles into your thighs.
“Do you want me to cover up some?”
“What?”
“Wait why would I want you to cover up?” He half huffs, confused
“Im not the skinniest…I don’t look as good as you”
Joel hates the idea that someone(s) made you feel like you weren’t worthy because your body isn’t their ideal body. He’s loves your curves, the plushness of your skin.
“Everything about you is gorgeous, and if it s’ok id like to show you just how gorgeous I think you are.”
You frantically nod and with that Joel dips his body down kissing right above your clothed clit, pulling a whimper out of you. He then moves to your hips, kissing them both before kissing all the way up your stomach til he reaches your breasts.
He licks along the swell of your breast, pulling your peaked nipple in between his teeth as he palms the other one with his free hand. Then does the same to the other.
“So fuckin’ sexy” Joel whispers against your breast as he swings his leg over to straddle one of your legs.
He crashes forward, his rock hard bulge pressing into your hip to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hands automatically plant firmly in his hair as his tongue dances with yours. Making his way down your neck sucking the soft skin where your shoulder meets your neck between his teeth, then sooth it with his tongue. You know it’s going to leave a mark, you want it too. Even if this is just for tonight, you want Joel to mark you as his. But you had no idea how much he wants that too. To make you his.
Joel plunges his tongue back into your mouth as he dips his free hand where you need it most. His finger grazes your clit has he slips it through your slit, deep into your core with a audible squelch. You both swallow each others moans.
A breathy moan escapes your lips as he gathers some of your wetness to your swollen clit with tight circles.
“Christ baby…y’so wet. This all from me?” Joel breathes, as you pull back. He wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you.
“All day…a-always” you breath unable to get more out.
“Fuck” Joel groans as he pulls down your panties, seating himself back between your legs.
“Fuck..baby you feel s’good around my fingers”
Joel’s trusts his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.
“J-Joel…it’s feels s-s good” you say through a stifled whimper.
“Don’t hold back baby. Lemme hear ya. Wanna hear how good I make you feel.” Joel purrs as he’s stroking that soft spongy spot so well.
Your climax crashes over you like a wave against a rocky coast. You couldn’t stop even if you tried.
“Fuu- J-Joel…it feels so good”
“Thats it baby let go”
You clench around his fingers perfectly as you fall over the edge.
“Doin’ so good for me sweetheart. Soundin’ so beautiful.”
Joel leaves a trail of kisses and praise in the valley between your breasts and down your stomach.
“Can I taste you sweetheart?” He growls as he nips at the insides of your thighs. Pupils blows wide open when you lock eyes with him.
“Please” you whine
Joel gives a few kitten licks up your center to watch you squirm, then dives in like a starved man eating his last meal. You thrusted your hips forward grinding into his face desperately chasing anything he’ll give you. Joel’s harder than he’s ever been before, head dripping with pre-come at the feeling of you grinding on his face to chase your release.
He’d give you this every single day if you’d let him. He doesn’t even care about his own release. He could drown in between your legs and die a happy man seeing the pleasure he gives you from his tongue on your face.
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kyeomkuppie · 3 days
Text
Rooftop.
Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader
Genre: I honestly don't know but let's just say crack and a pinch of angst
Warnings: Wonwoo thinks reader is about to commit suicide
Synopsis: You were just trying to get a better look at the sky, but someone misunderstood and tried to save you.
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You valued your peace of mind and the best way (in your opinion) to clear your mind was to look at the stars. At the edge of a rooftop.
Yeah, not the smartest idea but who cares!
Technically, anyone was bound to see a random person standing at a rooftop, misunderstand the situation, then call for help. Something you didn't exactly take into account.
And bingo as you had guessed, not only did someone see you, someone was at the same rooftop thinking you were about to jump, and you being at the edge didn't exactly help either.
Out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled backwards. Your back was now against the chest of a random stranger, and to make matters worse, on top of him.
"Uh, excuse me?" You were baffled and you didn't really know how to explain without him thinking you were lying "Can you let me go, please?"
No answer.
Oh shit. Is he dead? I don't think I'm that heavy though. You were thinking of the endless possibilities of you being charged for involuntary manslaughter. Great.
You finally feel the person who you thought you murdered move. "Are you okay? Why did you pull me like that? You could've been hurt!" You turned around only to be left awestruck. At least he was handsome.
His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was heavy, yeah it isn't the time for flirting. "How could you treat your life like it's something to be toyed with! You can't simply choose to end it because things are getting rough." His tone was stern and angry— but wait.
What? Your mind short-circuited for second. He thought you were doing what!
"What about your loved ones and the people who would blame themselves for your death? At least think about all those variables before treating your life like-"
"Excuse me?! I was just standing like a normal person, looking at the damn sky. I wasn't toying with my life, I was enjoying it!" You were starting to get riled up as well, couldn't he at least wait to hear what you had to say about yourself— and wait, what does he even have to do with it?!
"You shouldn't lie about things like this! If you need help, say it."
There's was no convincing this man. "Listen here stranger, if I needed help I would in fact ask for it. But can't a person watch the fucking sky in peace." You huffed "Why are you even making a big deal out of it? It's not like we know each other."
You pushed his hands which were gripping you away. "At least try to understand, I mean it's not the smartest thing to do, to stand at the edge of a rooftop I mean, but I assure I wasn't trying to do anything you were thinking of."
You had an idea! Not the smartest either but good enough "Want to grab a meal?" If he didn't say yes, you'd bury yourself alive, but you wouldn't have to see him again. If he said yes, you'd resolve that misunderstanding and you could go your separate ways.
He suddenly realized that his body was so tense and his body was still on the ground.
You gulped as he proceeded to get up. His features became more clear. His face had a soft expression but his eyes were sharp, so was his jaw. Yeah, you were right, he was one handsome fellow.
He was weirded out by your spontaneous personality. One moment you were all angry, and the next you were asking him to grab dinner? Yeah, not normal.
"Fine. I'll pretend that I believe you, and we'll go grab dinner. But for the love of god go stargaze anywhere but at the edge. I had the ambulance ready." He scratched his neck.
"Okay Mr. Overdramatic." You laughed, it was a peculiar day, not the peaceful kind you usually preferred, but definitely a day to remember.
"Wonwoo."
"Hm?" You tilted your head in confusion.
"If we're going out for a meal, you might as well know my name." He shrugged.
Yeah, he had split personalities, you were sure of it.
"[name]." You extended your hand "It was nice meeting you here— wait what were you doing up here?!" Your eyes widenened.
"I was stargazing."
"Yeah, no shit. I'll pretend that I believe you." You mimicked him from earlier.
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Inspired by that one scene in true beauty.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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shoyudon · 3 days
Text
DON'T STICK YOUR HAND UP THE VENDING MACHINE .ᐟ
starring. toji fushiguro x fem! reader
heads up. cursing
note. I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS CAME UP TO ME SO SUDDENLY? BUT IT DID AND IT WOULD BE SO SAD IF I DIDN'T WRITE IT SKJDKJSK
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VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who received a call from the mall he works in because apparently someone's arm got stuck inside a vending machine right in the basement parking before he was going to go home from a long day.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who saw you sitting down on the floor in front of the vending machine, your head leaning on it — he could hear a string of curses escaping from your mouth as you moved your arm a bit. frankly, he finds it pretty funny that you were owning up to the consequences of your own actions.
"has nobody told you that y'r not supposed to put your hand up the vending machine?" toji mutters, almost satisfied.
you rolled your eyes, "just get me out of this."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who had to endure at least the next fifteen minutes of you complaining about the same vending machine that you got stuck in, from the start of the alphabet till' the end.
"this thing ate my money, there's no way 'm leaving without my drink. stupid vending machine," you muttered out — toji trying his best to get your arm out without trying to possibly hurt you. honestly, he could care less about you getting hurt; he just didn't want his paycheck to be cut for your medication bills.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who finally got your arm out after half an hour, and got your drink out for you to shut you up from more complaints. it was a can of cold black coffee, which was what you needed after a twelve hours shift.
"thanks," you tell him — shoving the can of coffee inside your bag, "uh . . . do i need to pay for getting my arm out or should i just like . . . leave?"
he scoffs, "leave."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who only got back to his apartment two hours later than usual because you decided it was the best time to get your arm stuck in the vending machine over ¥120 (approximately $0.77).
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who got a glass of boba from your workplace the next day because you felt bad he had to waste his time helping you after you got stuck. in your defense, you didn't want to waste your money.
"uh, i don't know if you like boba — i made it less sugar since you don't seem like the type to eat a lot of sugar, you know?" you pointed at his build, "but thanks for helping me last night."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who begrudgingly accepted your drink and scoffed when he tasted it, 'less sugar' he thought taking another sip, biting onto the chewy boba coated with brown sugar liquid.
you were right about one thing, how he doesn't really like consuming too much sugar. despite the drink being 'less sugar' he still thought there was too much sugar — and despite that, he still managed to finish a whole glass of it, even chewing the last bit of ice.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually saw you in your workplace when he was called to fix a vending machine inside the mall. taking in a customer's order, looking really stressed when more customers decided to pop in. huffing, he decided to stop by just to mess with you.
"so . . . what's the best thing y'got in here?" he mutters.
you look at him, eyes narrowed. but this was him, the vending machine maintenance as your customer, "brown sugar boba, fresh milk red bean matcha boba, red bean mochi fresh milk," you explained, pointing to every picture on the menu you just mentioned.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who decided it was best to mess with you even more, bringing back his complaint about the drink you made him this morning.
"red bean mochi fresh milk, less sugar." toji underlines, taking out his wallet — even if he didn't want to buy a glass of sugar after drinking one earlier this morning.
"that will be ¥320 (approximately $2.07), please."
he huffs, "people pay that much for a glass of sugar?" and then he slid a couple of bills towards you.
"you're paying that much for sugar, you're one to say," you retort back, opening the cash register to return back his change and a small paper of his bill.
"one star for bad service," he muttered, grabbing back his change.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who for some reason, gets the most random call from inside the mall asking for the vending machine to be fixed. maybe because he doesn't fix them whole-heartedly just so he could mess with you by ordering the most outrageous drinks — at first it started out as little mocking smiles, and gestures.
but he felt as if that wasn't enough, so he decided to take a step further by messing with you on your job, urging you to make the smallest mistakes.
"brown sugar boba, with ten percent of brown sugar liquid. and five percent of sugar. if it's too sweet, i want my money back," he grunted. he meant to tease you — but the way he said it made him sound so serious that you were nervous about messing up his order.
even if he did say that he would return it every single time, he never really does.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who saw a customer complaint over something you didn't make — and he couldn't really do anything except watch. it wasn't like he was about to risk his own job by creating a scene in a boba shop. he sipped away on his order, which in his opinion was still too sweet, but he said nothing.
"i asked for no sugar, why is this still so sweet?" a man complains, raising up his royal milk tea with boba; which toji could see is half-empty. hell, the man's still chewing on his boba as he speaks.
"i apologize sir, but even our base milk tea powders are still a bit sweet, that's where the sweetness is coming from," you explained, looking at him apologetically, "would you like me to do anything for you, sir?"
the man grunted, "no, it's just disappointing," he muttered out, shooting you a dirty look before turning to leave the shop — toji eyed the male but said nothing. he was glad his work didn't require him to communicate with people besides getting a call to fix a machine.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually stopped messing with you and just drops by to order his drinks because he noticed how stressed you look at that man's complaint. he just didn't want to be the reason why you get fired.
"brown sugar boba, make it less sweet," he muttered — shoving his hand down into his pocket to grab the exact change he needed to pay.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually took a two weeks break from buying your boba because he was actually afraid he'd get diabetes from the huge amount of sugar he was consuming in such a short amount of time.
and you seek for his appearance — which never happened, until he decided to come back while you were sitting down on the floor, shoving your face into the instant ramen you bought from the convenience store this morning before your shift.
"oh! it's you, you came back!" you put the cup on top of the counter and wiped your hands, walking towards the cashier.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who spent most of his time in the boba shop until he's called somewhere else. he'd usually spend his hours inside the maintenance staff room on the secluded part of the mall, but now? he wastes his time inside a small boba shop in the middle of the mall; even if he said nothing or you were too busy to talk to him.
he still stayed because he likes it there, even without you both talking. he didn't feel as lonely as the hours spent inside the staff room alone.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually enjoyed it when you strike conversations with him during the peaceful flow of the boba shop, asking the most random questions from his zodiac sign to his favorite soda flavor, or his favorite way to eat eggs.
"i like sunny side ups, they're good," you tell him, wiping the sweat that was forming on your forehead — the both of you ended up talking about your schedules and shifts of work, which you both find out how the both of you mostly have 12 hours shifts.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually found you stranded after a shift because you missed the last bus, and he ended up giving you a ride on his old motorcycle. he's never really had a human backpack behind him on his motorcycle, so he didn't really care about speeding — at least until you told him to slow down a bit because it was a bit scary.
"thanks for the ride, toji. i owe you another one, how about a drink tomorrow? just make sure to drop by, 'ts on the house!" you gave him a thumbs up, giving back the only helmet that he made you use.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually came back to your shop the very next day to get that free drink of his from you — and this time, you managed to make it just right. not too sweet, he could get used to that.
"i like this one, 'ts not too sweet," he comments, raising up the glass of boba drink, "why couldn't ya' make me one like this since the beginning when i asked for less sugar?" he asked you.
"because that's my own recipe. 'ts not on the menu, but i'm still paying for it, y'know?" you raised your brows, eyeing him from inside the bar, "i wanna open my own boba shop in the future, it's fun."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually became your personal driver because he was the one who asked you to. even if you declined at first since you didn't want to burden him — but he actually insisted, surprising.
"don't care, we're goin' the same direction anyways," he handed you a helmet (that he actually rummaged through the garage through for, washed it, and dried it just for you), "the bus' full of weirdos at night."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who managed to get close to you in the next few months; he never did expect it, him getting close to a girl, but he was actually kind of glad he did get close to you.
"hey toji, eat lunch with me. i'm on break right now!" you peeked inside the maintenance staff room where he sat, a water bottle in his grasp. he'd usually decline, hell, he even declined his co-workers— but you? he could only sigh and gave out a curt nod, "look what i got."
toji hated everyone. but when you came into his world, he could make exceptions.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who hated it when he feels his heart flutter, he doesn't like the way his stomach churns every time he sees you do anything or see you in general. the way he craves for more of your smile, your laugh, everything about you. it made him feel uneasy— especially when he's never felt all that before.
it was a strange feeling to him, and he didn't like it. toji's never one for relationships, love, and all that. he doesn't know how to do it, he was afraid he'd end up hurting you instead. maybe, maybe that's why he decided to put some distance between the both of you.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who always fixes vending machines inside the mall the right way, making sure he doesn't have to go back in and see your face. as much as he wanted to, he didn't want to see you and feel the fluttering all over again when he's tried so hard to stop it (which wasn't working, by the way).
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who tries not to spend time inside the maintenance staff room because he knew you'd always try to come see him there during times when he wasn't idling by your work place. he felt bad every time his co-worker told him that you came by looking for him.
"hey fushiguro, i forgot to tell you, the boba girl was looking for you again this afternoon," his co-worker informed, putting on his jacket, ready to leave.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who kept this on for at least the next three months. everywhere you were, he turns away and walk the other way making sure the both of you won't bump into each other. don't think you didn't notice his act though, noticing how he stopped replying to your messages, how he doesn't come up to meet you in your work place anymore, or how he walks by your shop like he doesn't know you every time he was asked to fix a machine inside the shop.
you wondered if you did something that might made him mad at you — but no matter what, you just couldn't figure out what. and if he wasn't willing to talk to you, hell, even spare a glance at you, how were you going to find out.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who grumbled under his breath when he got a call right as he was about to clock out of work. begrudgingly walking down towards the basement where the vending machine was; god, people just had to ruin his day.
opening the basement door, there he saw you— sitting on the ground with an arm stuck inside the vending machine. a case of deja vu, this was exactly like how you both met.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who was silent while he was working out on your arm, wondering why in the hell would you try to reach up for a drink even after the first time you got yourself stuck. but he said nothing anyways. you did.
"are you gonna talk to me now?" you ask him while he was trying to free your arm, "i wasted my money to get my arm stuck and you're still not willing to talk to me?"
he almost scoffed, you did this on purpose, "so you did this on purpose?"
"no, i had a purpose. why're you ignoring me like we don't know each other? tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it," you mutter out angrily, crossing an arm across your chest, "you just ghosted me, why?"
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who didn't think it mattered a lot to you — but seeing to this extent you'd go, he could only shut his mouth. letting his hand do the freeing.
"so, you're just gonna act like we're strangers? 'kay, fine by me then," you reply, deciding to shut up for the rest of the procedure, waiting for him to free your arm.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who decided it was the best timing to confess to you, who had one arm up stuck inside a vending machine. all because he just wanted to get rid of the burden on his mind about you.
"listen, i get this feelin' every time i'm near you. and i don't fuckin' like it, makes me feel all warm and soft. i fuckin' hate it. i don't hate you, jus' don't get the wrong idea or shit." he muttered, pulling your arm out from the machine — packing his stuff up to leave.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who got stopped by you when he was about to leave for the night.
"'s that a confession or what? if you're going to confess, the least you could do is do it right. that was lame," you tell him, holding onto the hem of his shirt, "do it all over, with nicer words, and a nicer tone."
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who shook his head, not wanting to repeat his moment of vulnerability to the first person he was most vulnerable most. toji hated being so weak in front of people, especially you.
"no, who said 't was a confession anyways?" he questions, obviously a lie, looking at you with a raised brow.
you let go of his shirt and waved your hand, "fine then, let's not speak anymore since you want it to be that way," he stares at your back in confusion as you try to walk away out of the basement, "goodbye," you mutter out, a bit of hope that he'd stop you.
which he did, and you breathe out in relief, "'ts late, the last bus left already. i'll drop you at home," he murmurs out, scratching his nape.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who handed you the same helmet you usually wore, never getting rid of it in the first place. bringing you home for the first time after three months — nobody spoke a word to each other, and it was definitely awkward. hopping off his bike, you returned back the helmet to him and began walking back towards your house.
"hey," he calls out to you.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who sucked up his ego and confessed to you in a "nicer" way and tone like you told him to. and he of course, managed to butcher it up again.
"i don't fuckin' hate you. i just tolerate you more than i tolerate other people," he retorts. seeing the unimpressed look on your face made him think twice, "okay. i like you, just— bye," and then he left just like that without trying to hear your reply.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who didn't expect a glass of boba on his staff room with a small note, and he knew it was from you.
'i like you too, why did you leave last night?'
because he was scared you'd reject him, that's why. but now that you made it clear that you weren't going to reject him, he was more relaxed. but the thought of meeting you face to face after last night made him nervous all over.
VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who was actually surprised when you weren't as awkward as he is upon meeting him after last night. peeking your head inside the staff room like the usual — he turned to look and there you were already jumping onto him.
"hey! why did you leave so fast last night? i didn't even get to answer you yet," he grumbled under his breath when you brought it up yet again.
"because i was afraid y're gonna reject me, happy?" he asks, "but you didn't so 'm not afraid anymore, i guess."
"what does this make us?" you replied back playfully, nudging his bicep with your elbow, "hm? hm?"
"friends," he teased, his face flat.
"hey!"
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swordsandholly · 2 days
Text
Across the Way
Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike
Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader
Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist
MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.
More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.
You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.
They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.
Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.
You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.
J >> Bonnie lass!
J >> So glad u texted!!
>> Sorry it took so long lol
Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.
J >> Nah Nah
J >> No worries
J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow
J >> Just to chat
J >> need an excuse to get out of the house
“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.
>> Yeah, come by anytime.
>> totally
>> yea sounds cool
>> rad, man
A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.
>> If you like. You’re always welcome.
Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,
>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf
>> If you want to test for me :)
Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.
~~~
You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.
“Hey, bon.” He grins.
“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”
“Aye.”
You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”
Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.
Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”
“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”
There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.
“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”
“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.
You tilt your head. “Oh?”
He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”
Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“
“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.
“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?
“Okay.”
You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.
Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.
The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.
As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-
The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?
Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.
“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.
You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”
Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.
Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”
“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”
“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”
They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”
You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”
“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.
You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”
His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”
“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.
“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”
“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”
“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.
Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.
You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”
“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.
“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”
“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.
“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”
Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”
Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.
“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”
“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.
You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.
Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.
Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!
“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.
“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.
You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “
Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”
You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.
You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.
The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.
~~~
The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.
You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.
Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.
Heat.
It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.
It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.
“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”
“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”
“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”
You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.
“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.
You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.
You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.
Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.
“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.
“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.
Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.
“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.
“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”
Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.
“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…
Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”
He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”
“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.
You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.
“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.
Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.
Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”
You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.
Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)
You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.
Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!
Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.
“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.
It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.
You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.
“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.
“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.
You nod slowly. “Overheated…”
“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.
“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.
You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-
“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.
You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”
You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”
“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.
You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”
Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.
“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.
“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”
Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”
You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.
If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.
It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.
Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.
“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.
Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”
You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.
Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”
You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.
“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”
He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.
“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”
You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.
Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”
“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.
“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”
You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.
Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”
“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.
You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”
It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.
“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”
“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”
“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”
Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.
Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”
A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.
Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic
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niabang · 1 day
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Nights Like This
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Pairings: Chan × fem reader
Summary: Your boyfriend says he's stressed from work, so you help him relieve it.
Warnings: Smut included MINORS DNI. Fluff, aftercare, established relationship, sub chan?, dom reader?, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of pet names like "honey," "baby," etc. Creampie, reader is a bit mean and Chan is a big man baby.
MORE UNDER THE CUT!
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You were waiting for your boyfriend to get back home from work and counting down the hours till he did because you were worried about him.
You were worried because you texted him earlier in the day to ask how work was going and what he wanted to eat when he got back home.
He replied to you, saying he was stressed, couldn't wait to come back home, and that he didn't know what he wanted to eat just yet.
You told him to give you a call when he figured it out and wished him luck with work.
He called you a few hours later to tell you not to worry about him because he ended up getting dinner with the boys and was already on his way home.
You had dinner on your own and went upstairs to take a shower. Just as you were coming back down to do the dishes, you heard a key turn in the lock. Your baby was back.
"Hi honey." You said to him as he came in.
"Hi baby." He said and gave you a long tight hug plus a peck on your forehead.
You would never get tired of the way he smelt. That musky scent of his sweat mixed with perfume was so intoxicating that it clouded your brain in the best way possible.
"You good?" You asked him as he took off his hands from your waist.
"Yeah, I am, just a little tired, that's all." He said and started making his way upstairs.
"I'm gonna go take a shower then go to bed wanna join me?" He asked from the top of the stairs.
"I thought you said you were tired? And no, I just took one."
"Boo, you're so boring." He replied.
"Stop being a child Chan, go take your your shower." You said.
"Okay, mom." He scoffed.
You weren't looking at him, but you just knew he rolled his eyes before going into your shared bedroom to take his shower. He was such a child sometimes.
You made some hot chocolate for both of you and took it upstairs to your room.
On getting there, you met him putting on a black tank top, and he threw his black chrome hearts hoodie over it. The weather was pretty cold.
"Here you go." You said, handing him a mug, and the two of you retired to the bed.
"What made you so stressed at work today anyway?" You asked.
"I don't know how, but I lost a track, and it happened to be one I didn't backup, so we have to start recording all over again." You don't know why, but you laughed a bit after he said that.
"Are you laughing? What's so funny y/n?" He asked cocking an eyebrow.
"I don't know bro why didn't you back the file up?" You asked, still laughing.
"It's not funny, y/n." He said, looking angry.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." You said and got on him, so you were straddling him.
"Aww, you look so tired, my baby. You need to sleep." You said while pushing his hair away from his forehead so you could leave a peck on it.
Just as you were about to get off your boyfriend so he could get some rest, he used his hands to hold your hips in place.
"Y/n, don't go." He said when you turned to look at him.
"Don't tell me you want another forehead kiss, Chris." You said trying to act cool like a volcano didn't erupt in your stomach, and your kit kat wasn't dripping.
"I like it when you get mad and call me Chris." He said with that cheeky smile you fell for every single time. You just couldn't help it.
"You're so annoying, just go to be -" You couldn't even finish your sentence before he cut you off with a kiss.
"Mhm." You couldn't help but moan. His lips were so soft and warm, and his tongue moved against yours so perfectly every thought in your head vanished.
He started moving your hips back and forth on his crotch and you almost reached the road of no return, but you came back to your senses.
"Wait, chan, we can't be doing this. You're stressed, and you need to rest before you go back to work tomorrow." You said.
"Help me relieve my stress y/n you're the one who can." He said, maintaining eye contact with his beady eyes that you hated so much. Fuck him he knew how to get you and he used his tricks every single time he had the chance to.
"Okay, you got me, but I'll do all the work. Don't move a muscle, okay?" He nodded his head in agreement and you went back to kissing him.
When you felt he was hard enough, and you were wet enough you got off him to take your shorts off, and he took his pants off to reveal his cock and his tip was already glistening with precum.
You were so tempted to take him in your mouth, but you wanted this to be as fast as possible, so you scratched that thought.
You climbed back on top of him and then used your hand to position his cock at your entrance.
"Ah fuck y/n." Chan moaned as he slipped inside you and you gasped as you felt him fill you up.
You held on to the headboard of your bed for more support and started moving up and down slowly to gain a set rhythm.
Once you set the pace for your self you started going faster. You were cock drunk with the way he was stretching you out and hitting your sweet spot every time you came down. You were seeing stars.
"Fuck y/n I'm not going to last if you keep on doing this." Chan said and held your hips to slow you down.
"Good because the idea isn't for you to last." You said and took his hands off you.
You bent down to give him a kiss while rotating your hips and grinding on his cock.
"It feels so good chan. Oh my God." Your legs almost gave up on you right there and then, but you remembered that if you couldn't go on chan would take control and that would defeat the whole point of you doing this so you held on to the headboard for support and went back to the previous pace you set for yourself.
After a while Chan's groans started getting louder, and he started bucking up in to you so you knew he was about to cum.
"Fuck y/n." He groaned as he held your hips down and coated your walls white."
"Mhmm." You moaned as you rode him off his high, and went back down to kiss him before you got off to lie on the bed.
You both let out a sigh once your back hit the bed and chan pulled you in to plant a kiss on your lips.
He had that cheeky smile that you hated on his face again because he knew he won. You wished you could slap it off him.
"You love me so much." He said, teasing you.
"No, I don't, go to bed." You said and turned away from him.
"Come here." He said while laughing and pulled you close to him.
"What?" You asked after turning back to face him.
"I love you." He said while placing his head on your chest and wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I know." You replied, not wanting to give into him a second time.
"Say it back." He said.
"No." You shot back at him.
Your boyfriend just loved being a little shit and annoying the fuck out of you, so he did the best thing he could think of which was tickling you because he knew you hated it.
"Okay, okay, chan, stop, I love you too." You said through tears from laughing too much.
"Goodnight, y/n." He said.
"Goodnight, Chan." You replied and ran your hands through his hair till you both fell asleep.
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a/n: 2.1k w.count- boothill needs a lil tune up [...y'all should've seen this one comin' honestly]
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you're not sure why you bother setting an alarm every time you go to sleep. you don't even know when you'll be sleeping for one; it could be in the afternoon, it could be in the morning, it could be for ten minutes at your workbench, and on the rare occasion, you can even go to bed at night like everyone else. although, that last option when blessed upon you, never lasted the whole night.
as for the original dilemma of alarm clocks? who needs 'em! the critters getting into your shop and wrecking your tools around were a surefire way to get your blood pumping with a wild chase around the shop with a hefty, swinging wrench. kids stopping by to see the newest hunk-of-junk thing you've been tinkering with or maybe even bringing you some toy to fix with whimpering chins are always sure to keep you awake- you couldn't send them away with smashed hopes. perhaps it was a good natured older lady or gentlemen just stretching their legs one fine morning after you had pulled an all nighter, but now you have to entertain their gossip well into the morning past the ass-crack of dawn because you can't be a bad host!
this instance, however, just so happens to be the familiar sound of heavy, metal boots clanking their way through the shop's public entrance. the sound of the stomping reverberates around your small little rest room at the back of your shop through the camera feed you keep running at all hours (mostly for those critters previously mentioned). having just fallen asleep on top of being hyperaware of sounds from the feed, your eyes fly open. with a well-overdramatic, one-person show worthy groan evolved to frustrated yell, you were throwing your shabby blanket off your legs.
"wakey, wakey!" the synthetic voice of an overly familiar man projects into your room.
you stomp across the room in two short strides. slamming your palm down on a button attached to a small table with all sorts of other switches and knobs, the small indicator that audio is feeding from your microphone kicks on as red as your temper.
"the hell do you want?" you growl, voice muffled at the end of your exhausted question by your free hand running down your face. you hear his voice chuckle on the other end. peering through your fingers into the video screen, he had moved to stand away from your shop door. his arms are crossed across his metallic chest, chin tilted up so his one eye can gaze into the camera that follows his movements.
"now, now, sugar," he chuckles, "just open the door, would ya'? i could use some fixin' up." as if trying to coax you into letting him in, he waves one of his arms around by the elbow.
you're not sure if he heard you click your tongue before you lifted your hand off the audio feed button, but he chuckles nonetheless as the soft click of disconnection echoes on his end. he knew you'd come racing to the door... well, at the very least you wouldn't leave him out to dry.
the cowboy dips his chin and chuckles under his breath as the brim of his hat shadows his face. he could hear you stomping your way towards him and just imagining your irritated face with a possibly twitching brow was highly amusing to him.
the door in front of his toes swings open inwards and the rush of air as it did so flutters his long bangs that always covered the right side of his face. his chin rises a fraction, and he was right. your face was assuming.
standing in a wrinkled shirt that you no doubt had been trying to sleep in, arms crossed and a crease so deep in your brows he was tempted to push his thumb between them.
"well," he starts, swaying his hunk of metal bodyweight to one of his equally metal legs, "ain't you a sight for sore eyes."
"what. do you want." you hiss. before he gives you a verbal answer, his arm swings down and swipes something from his pocket before presenting it in front of your face. your eyes nearly go crossed to examine it. then you're looking back up at him, not any more amused than before. "is this supposed to be a bribe?"
the cowboy shrugs playfully, twisting the covered candied sucker between his fingers.
"do ya' want it to be?"
you roll your eyes, bringing your arm up to snatch the small boost of sugar from him. "just get in here, boothill." you sigh, free hand coming to rub your forehead. turning your body to retreat back into your home, the clanking of him following behind echoes at your back.
boothill whistles at the state of the familiar shop he'll find himself in from time to time for quick fix-ups. a workbench loaded with heaps of scrap metal, tools, random bobbles, and screws all littered on top of pages and printed blueprints of projects or repairs. it's even more of a chaotic mess than last time. he sits on the stool he normally snags as his when he's here and, without speaking, you're hooking up a small machine attached to the wall next to the bench and offering him the end of a circular cord.
"need a charge?" you ask with a small lisp from the candy you had already unwrapped and placed in your mouth against your cheek.
"well, why not," he entertains. taking the thick, extendable cord from your hand and plugging it into the port on his lower back.
you flit around a few other places before your snagging a stoll for yourself and placing it in front of his knees. you push some estranged tools around with your forearm and, while moving your sucker from one cheek to the other, you begin to maneuver your hair out of your face.
boothill enjoys watching you in this way. it felt familiar- just seeing someone move around in rather mundane ways. this small sense of domesticity was familiar and comfortable. it calmed him; reminding him of home.
"what's the problem?" you finally ask, looking a tad bit more awake and more or less ready to work on whatever issue he had to present.
his right arm moves to cross his lap and his palm bangs twice on his opposing forearm where his internal revolver barrel is.
"i got myself in quite a fuss with this dang thing. forkin' bullet got jammed in the goose-dud thing and i can't even pop the barrel open to reload it."
you stare at him like he just said the dumbest thing you've ever heard. "you came all the way here. because your arm got jammed by a bullet." the way you spoke sounded exactly how you looked at him.
"this ain't no one-handed fix, sugar." you stay quiet, not willing to admit he had a point. using both hands to not only try and pop open the jam, but also tinker around with what was essentially his whole arm's motion control- that did require a bit more finesse than just slamming his arm on a wall until it gave way... which is precisely what you could imagine him doing.
"fine," you yield. "take off that sorry excuse of a 'jacket' unless you want that sleeve covered in oil."
you twist away from him, half-standing at a strange angle to reach across your workbench for something as the satisfying sound of the bottom of his small zipper unlatches. shrugging it off, he tosses it onto your bench, covering a few loose tools and scribblings of paper.
you fully get out of your stool and trot over to the other side of the shop to roll over a smaller table with a metal tub. you wheel it to his left and, without instruction, boothill lays his arm over it.
as you begin to tinker around with his arm, picks, pliers, oil and all working on trying to dislodge the stray bullet that had caused such an issue, boothill has taken to lounging comfortably as he watches.
his right arm, free of any issues or problem fixing, was propped up on the corner of your workbench at his side with his forearm resting along the edge. his metal fingers had snagged a stray nail from the workspace and had been twirling it absent-mindedly between his knuckles like a bullet.
the only words spoken between you both as you worked was the occasional quick apology if something you did prods against a wire that sent a shock up his arm or made his fingers twitch.
"easy. last thing we need ya' doin' is settin' my gun off, sugar," he had told you. just because his arm machinery wasn't properly loaded- ain't nothing was stopping you from accidentally relodging the bullet and sending it through your wall. the sudden discharge coupled with his exposed wires could easily kick his arm back with enough recoil to knock you clean out with how close you were leaning in to see what you were doing.
"okay..!" you whisper to yourself before the sound of something sliding down in his arm is followed by a sensation; one he was almost familiar with. "give me a wrench. heavy," you instruct. on hand was spread across his forearm just at the start of the revolver barrel, the other outstretched towards your bench. grabbing the nearest one, he slaps it into your palm.
with a two, heavy whacks using your newly acquired wrench, you slam the barrel shut and boothill lets out a small breath.
"now, that feels a heck of a lot better," he chuckles. you reach around his forearm, release the tension latch and the barrel swings out successfully. with your pliers, you easily remove one problematic, greasy bullet. "knew i could count on you to get the job done."
"and thanks to you, my hands are gross," you chide. fingers greased in oil. boothill grabs a rag from your workbench drawer and tosses it over your sullied hands. you start working the cloth between your fingers the moment it hits your skin. "i recommend you stick around and charge up before heading out on whatever you got lined up next."
"shucks, you mean it?" you can't tell if he's genuinely thankful you'd allow him to stay or if he was just being facetious. once your hands were at least dry, you start using it to wipe down his arm next.
"course i do. i'll have to give you a quick check again before you go. i'll mess around and try and make it so it doesn't jam like that again. whatever tech-doc you worked with before really needed to focus on the finer details." boothill wondered if you knew that you had lifted his newly repaired limb and started rotating and twisting it like you were admiring your work. like you were admiring him.
"they don't matter no more," he tells you. "i got ya' now, don't i? who needs some random rear shirt-bag, when i got the best in the forkin' business right here?"
"careful now. flattery will get your everywhere."
"no shirt?"
"watch your mouth," you tease before you stand. "i mean it though. stay put and charge."
"i ain't no stupid electronic," he clicks. his body moves and twists so both of his arms are now leaning on the workbench behind him. both elbows supporting him as his arms dangle off the ledge. "but I hear ya'." his eye shuts under the shadow of his hat.
his eye reopened no sooner than it shut when the shadow caused by the brim of his cowboy hat disappeared and the light of your shop flitered through his eyelids. with a clear, open eye, he lifts his chin to see you standing in front of him.
you had pinched the brim of his hat between your fingers, snatching it off his head and revealing the fullness of his long, dual-colored hair and cross-hair-infused eye. you take his hat and nonchalantly toss it behind his right shoulder to avoid getting any residual oil from his left arm on it.
"take your damn hat off inside my shop will you? you don't need it." you turn away from him as he continues to stare at your back, slack jawed. you mutter something about washing your hands and arms before you disappear behind a doorway and around the corner of the wall. he'd been in the entirety of your shop before, so he knows where you went but all he could think about was you flicking his hat off him.
the cowboy let his head fall backward, the hair on the backside of his skull tangling with screws and pencils as his right hand comes to rest over his face. he can hear the water running in the other room.
"ah, son of a nice lady...!"
boothill has really got to tell you not to mess with his hat.
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a/n: one day i'll write a flirty hat rule fic. *sigh* one day.
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gglitch1dd · 3 days
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I love that we’re getting to know more about Koda, so I have a question. Does he ever get mad at the fact that he’s sick and can’t do everything his brothers can? Does he ever get mad at his mom? Kinda like when a little kid says I hate you after being told no, I doubt he’d mean that but most kids don’t think about it when they say it.
REMEMBER YOU ARE LOVED AND IMPORTANT ‼️‼️❤️❤️❤️
aww thank you anon. You are important too<3 always know that.
Honestly, Koda is my new favourite out of all the brothers, that and Hero. Cause Hero is just say to say some unhinged comment and vanishes to mind his own business. But to answer briefly, he does. And it breaks Reader's heart.
Why can't I go outside?
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You stood in the kitchen watching from inside as your husband talked with one of the Ministers outside. It was an unexpected visit that was only found out an two hours before, but it was one you quickly managed to salvage.
Your husband and you had strict rules with visitors and one of them was if your visit is unexpected, you're sitting outside (unless cold of course or weather didn't allow it). You wanted to keep your house as germ free as possible and you could only do that by managing your own family and friends that understood. With acquentenaces it was harder. But you smiled as Hero seemed to be playing ball with the Minister of Defence's son.
"Mom." You turned around to see Kane walking over to you with a serious look on his face.
You smiled as you put down your glass of juice. "What's up, sweetheart?" You asked.
"It's Koda."
You paused as a small trickle of fear and anxiety washed over your body. You stepped forward, your eyebrows furrowed. "Is he sick? Is he running a fever again?"
Kane shook his head making you drop your shoulders in relief. "No, he just won't let me give him his medication. He won't sit still for his IV. He's..." Kane hesitated. You could see the conflict in his eyes. "He's upset."
You hummed, knowing that it was one of those days. You motioned for him to follow you as you headed upstairs. Koda was a sweet boy, with a heart of gold and ever so sensitive and often than not, he understood that he got sick easily and didn't mind all the adjustments in his life.
However, he was only just turned five. So naturally, he would get fed up with the accomodations needing to be made in his life.
You walked through the door with Kane. The interim room was set up as a sort of barrier between the outside world and your son. It's where you took the necessary precations before walking in. You washed your hands thoroughly, making sure to nearly scrub them till they felt tender. You let the air around you become still and cleaned as you slipped off your shoes, putting on new ones as you walked into Koda's room, Kane following inside.
Your son sat on his little dinosaur carpet, playing with his legos, building something with a frown on his face. The cabinets on the left hand side were clearly touched and opened, showing that Kane had been there, trying to help give Koda his medication. You saw the IV next to his bed that was untouched. His room, although decorated and stuffed with toys and all the things he loved, reminded you a lot like a hospital pediatric room than it did a bedroom, with its sterilised air and constant clean smell.
You took a breath, before crouching down to your son's height, going down on your knees. "Koda, my baby, Kane told me that you aren't allowing him to help you with your medicine." He nodded his head but didnt say anything else. "Can you tell me why?"
"I don't want it."
"My sprout, you know you have to take them. It helps keep you stronger." You reminded him. "Remember, big strong dinosaurs need to take their medic-"
"But why can't I go outside now!" He raised his voice at you turning to you with frustrated tears in his eyes. You tried not to show pain on your face. "I don't like them! I have them everyday! Why can't I play outside with Hero and the other new boy outside!" He pointed out at the windowseil, where he could sit and see the bunnies outside if he wanted to.
You took his little hand. "Koda, you know that other people can sometimes make you sick, and until daddy and I know that they won't, we have to be safe for you."
"Then why can't I go to school!" He shouted at you. "Like my brothers. Like Kane and Toshi!"
You swallowed down hard. You and your husband had agreed to keep Koda out of kindergarten. It was a hard decision to make but considering the risk of possibly losing your son over one kid who might end up giving him a cold, you took the risk. You made the efforts to have him play with friends and other young children like him who also often get sick, you made sure to always spend time with him and when your friends were over, you always asked them to make sure they were as healthy as possible and not to come over if they were sick and then Koda could spend time with everyone else.
But you knew, regardless, it would be suffocating for him.
"Koda, until you're just a little bit older and stronger, then we can talk to the doctors about getting you into school, but right now, your body can't handle being sick so well."
Koda frowned, folding his arms away from you as tears weld up in his beautiful eyes. You saw the pout on his face as he started to cry in frustration. "It's not fair!"
"I know, baby." You said trying to fight back emotions that you were feeling yourself. You moved to grab a hold of him but he started to fight back.
"It's not fair! IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screamed. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate you! Why can't I be normal!!" He shouted, sobbing as you held him in your arms.
You closed your eyes, feeling tears slip down from them no matter how hard you tried. You swallowed down hard as you tried not to let out anymore. You didn't want Kane to see you like this, you didn't want Koda to see you like this. But no matter how many therapy sessions and talking to Izuku, it never got any easier.
Giving birth to a child with primary immune disorder was something that you felt as though was entirely your fault. You knew it wasn't, but it never felt true.
"I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!"
"I know. I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You held him as he cried in your arms, screaming and sobbing in your chest. You held him tightly, making sure that he knew you were there. "I'm sorry."
Kane walked over to you, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Koda's bed to wrap around you. You gave him a sad smile as you held Koda. Kane was quiet on his feet, working fast as he quickly stuck the needle in the bottle, drawing out liquid and walking to the IV to push in the medication. He moved fast and quietly, reminding you of his father as he moved around shuffling in his slippers.
Koda had relaxed in your arms, tired and crying in your arms softly. Kane crouched down with the needle connected to the IV. He wiped Koda's arms with a disinfectant wipe before expertly putting in the IV in his arm. He put a dinosaur band-aid over it so it wouldn't come out.
You sat with Koda till he was fast asleep. At some point, Kane had left and grabbed dinner for you and Koda, however Koda was still very sleepy so he barely ate. His medication making him drowsy as he slept in your arms.
A hand came onto your shoulder, making you look up. Your husband looked down at you with a sad expression. It was just you and him with your little one in your arms. Izuku carefully moved down to sit down next to you. He easily moved to pick you up, despite you holding your son in your arms and he put you into his lap.
You leaned back against his chest, a tear slipping out of your eye as you stared into space.
"Kane told me what happened." He spoke softly as he rested his head on yours. He rubbed your arms as he held you in his big embrace.
"Izuku." You let out weakly as you titled your head to look up at him. "I... Have I failed him?" You asked softly as you turned to look down at Koda. "I'm his mother. I'm supposed to protect him. I was supposed to give him a healthy body. Why- why couldn't I-"
Before you could break down, your husband wrapped his arms, pulling you to face into his chest as he held you and his son in his large arms. He shushed you as your face broke into a sob. You felt a large hand move to wipe away your face.
"It is not your fault." He reminded you. "It is never your fault and it will never be your fault. It's no one's fault." You felt a kiss to your forehead. "Our son just needs a little more help and precautions than others and that's okay. He's going to be okay. He is okay." You nodded your head, wanting to believe in his words and not your own.
Your husband tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes moved up to land on his face. Tears were in his beautiful green eyes as he looked down at you, a sad smile on his freckled face. You saw pain in his eyes as well. He leaned down and put his forehead against your own, making you close your eyes with a stuttered breath.
His eyebrows furrowed as he held you tight, a hand brushing your arm and Koda's. "We're doing this together, okay?"
You nodded your head, softly. "Okay."
"I'll take tomorrow off." You opened your eyes to look up at him, surprised. "Lets spend sometime with him together. I can pull some strings and..." Izuku hesitated, "If you agree, I can book out the aquarium tomorrow. We can take out all the boys and just focus on Koda. I think it would mean a lot to him."
"But... but what about work?" You asked him softly. "Didn't the minister ask you to-"
He shook his head. "It isn't urgent. It's just feedback on an diplomatic meeting, nothing more. Besides, nothing matters more than you and the boys." You gave him a grateful smile as that. Izuku smiled, before looking down at your youngest boy. He brushed his hand through Koda's soft green hair. "You know despite everything..." You saw him smile as he looked down at his son, a sort of pride that you always saw whenever he held his sons for the first time. "I don't regret a thing."
You paused, turning to look at Koda who slept in your arms. You smiled gently. "Yah. Not a thing."
-Glitch1d
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dreamlandcreations · 2 days
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Imagine that Feyd kills your soulmate so he can have you for himself...
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• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •
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Imagine that Feyd kills your soulmate so he can have you for himself...
He killed his own soulmate, you don't know why did you even consider that he would spare yours. With Jessica having a boy, it changed nothing in the path of fate, Paul was still the na-Baron's soulmate.
Feyd knew from a young age that something was taken from him, something far more precious than his loving parents or his freedom and innocence. Feyd lost the other half of his soul when Lady Jessica decided to go against the Plan.
He thought he would never experience a bond like that, as it was meant to be. Until he found you.
Despite how much soulmates are revered, no one speaks of the possibility of finding another person besides the original that was destined for you. Yet Feyd knows it's possible.
You were a near perfect match when you first met him, he felt a connection to you that he couldn't explain and time only brought you closer, and with no sight of your soulmate in the picture he thought he could make you his.
But fate tried to take from him again, only this time he didn't let it happen.
As much as he wanted to make the man suffer for trying to claim you, Feyd made his death quick for your sake. You did not know your soulmate and there was no real connection, so his death hurt you but it will not break you. It will take time but you will learn to let it go and Feyd-Rautha will be there as you get through this loss, he will be your only solace and the only one you will need from now on. He will be your soulmate and your bond will be stronger than any before or after because unlike those who just accepted their destiny, you chose each other.
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blitzwhore · 2 days
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Stolitz, and their fear of rejection and sense of worthlessness turning into a self-fulfilled prophecy.
Blitz—
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Does anybody love you, Blitzo? / No.
Eventually everyone goes...
Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress. It's nothing... You know. It's nothing else.
I'm going to die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste.
Royal demons don't give a shit about guys like us. They're all the fucking same.
Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you. You make that really clear all the time.
But you don't want to do things alone, Blitzo.
I mean, Stolas is just a loud, thirsty bitch who loves feeling the thrill of being dicked by the lower class. It's a novelty to him.
And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was, and he'll pretend to care about me, and comment on my photos, and laugh at my jokes... /Oh well that's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit / I know, right?!
It's all my fault. I'd hate me too. I mean, I do hate—
You're going to die alone. You're gonna die alone, Blitzo.
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[My worst fear has come true. He couldn't possibly want me. This has to be a joke. He's selfish and an asshole, just like the rest of them. He's trying to get rid of me; that's the only explanation. I'm just a broken toy he's finally gotten bored of, just like I knew would happen. He won't even fight for me, and why would he? I could never be good enough for him. It's happening again. I'm being abandoned by someone I care about. I really am going to die alone.]
Stolas—
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Would he want me if he was free? And if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?
I mite b bsuy / I wouldn't want to bother you!
You see... I seem to have found myself with, um. Feelings for him. And I'm not sure if it's a mutual thing.
Dearest, I know better now, I must give you this choice.
I'll save us both before we grow cold.
What's between you and I? Just a comfortable lie.
I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy...
He deserves the choice to stay or go.
So I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls needs to end...
Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie's? / Y? / I'm sorry! Nevermind, it's not a big deal.
What's left for me and my broken heart if I cannot have you? Unless it's me, and no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through the walls you've conjured up to live...
I'll believe him, and not the voice that says I'm not enough.
I'll fucking die alone if this goes bad!
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[My worst fear has come true. I truly am not worthy of being loved. He's rejecting me— no, mocking me for even thinking he could ever want to be with me if he didn't need my book. I've been taking advantage of him all this time, all the while believing we had something real and being naive enough to think he could love me back. I am a monster. And now that he can, he has chosen to leave me. So now the least I can do is quietly let him—the only person I have ever wanted and felt alive with—go. I really am going to die alone.]
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corrodedbisexual · 16 hours
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Modern-ish Steddie AU where they meet in jail.
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Steve shouldn't even be here; he got arrested for shoplifting, but it was all a misunderstanding. He was actually trying to prevent a shoplifting when he saw a couple of kids stuffing chocolate bars into their jacket pockets. They bolted, and he chased after them; unfortunately, he was still holding a bottle of (rather expensive) wine in hand as he did that, so he ended up the perceived cause of the blaring store alarm while the two shitheads escaped with zero consequences.
The store's got security cameras. So it will probably be fine, right? It will all be resolved soon enough. Steve just has to wait.
What makes him more nervous is the guy he's sharing the cell with.
Wild curly hair, tattoos all over his exposed arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt, the man wears orange like he was born in it. He seems to be about Steve's age, in his early 20s, but it's hard to tell. When Steve's brought in, he's lounging carelessly on his bed, trying to fold a piece of toilet paper into what looks like a crane.
The guy looks dangerous; who knows what could provoke him. Steve just settles quietly into the corner of his own bed at the opposite wall, drawing his knees up to his chin and trying to keep his head down. Literally.
Except every time he glances up, the man's rather intense stare is on him. Five minutes into this awkward silence, Steve can't handle it anymore, so he clears his throat and speaks up, still choosing to look at the floor.
"So, uh... what are you in for?"
He cringes immediately. It's probably the worst possible question to ask, and one most likely to get you a punch in the face. But when Steve looks up, he finds his cellmate fully grinning, now busying himself with tearing the toilet paper into little bits.
"Oh, just a bit of murder," he answers casually. "Our lord Satan requires sacrifice, you know."
Steve's almost convinced the guy's fucking with him (because surely, murder suspects are placed in separate cells from the minor offense folk, right?) but he's still a little terrified.
The guy (Eddie, Steve finally learns the name, although that might not be a real one) keeps talking, throwing balls of paper into the toilet by the wall. He keeps missing; there's little bits of white all over the floor already.
He says he's been to prison twice. Grand theft auto and arson. Escaped both times, apparently. He's planning an escape right now, too. Goes on, with a manic grin and wild gestures, about how one of the guards is actually a member of his cult, has got him covered.
It all has to be bullshit. It has to be. Steve doesn't dare comment on it, because at the small chance that it's actually true, he's fucked if he pisses this guy off.
A single paper ball finally lands inside the toilet, and Eddie whoops so loudly that Steve almost jumps.
"Aaaand the crowds cheer, boys'n'girls all going wild screaming his name!" Eddie yells, rapidly drumming his palms on his thighs. "It's the rising star of the new hot game of pottyball, it's Eddieee Munsooon!"
Yeah, so whatever the man was or wasn't lying about, Steve's not about to engage. Eddie's clearly all kinds of insane, he thinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as the guy, seemingly over his silly little game, starts wrapping the toilet paper around his head like a turban.
Except five minutes later, Eddie apparently decides that Steve's much better entertainment than toilet paper. He rolls off the bed and strolls across the tiny cell, stopping right in front of Steve, who in turn is doing his best to become one with the concrete wall behind him. With a shit-eating grin, Eddie strikes a pose, hip jutted out and one hand trying to keep the unsteady headgear in place.
"D'you think I look like a beautiful prince, Stevie?" He asks, batting his eyelashes. (Oh god, why did Steve tell him his real name, what was he thinking.) "Would you go on a magic carpet ride with me?"
Steve can't help it. He bursts out laughing. It almost sounds like Eddie's trying to flirt with him, except Steve stands by his insane conviction, because who the fuck flirts like that?!
The laughter doesn't seem to deter Eddie. He's grinning even wider now, and then he plants both hands on the bed on each side of Steve and leans in, tilting his head.
"Well aren't you pretty when you smile, princess."
Cold sweat runs down the back of Steve's neck as a sudden implication of what might be happening here hits him. He's only heard about it from like, movies and stuff, but does this actually happen? Oh shit. Is Steve gonna become this guy's prison bitch? Jail bitch, technically?
What's worse, a tiny voice in Steve's head suggests that maybe it's not so bad, actually. Eddie's a lunatic, but at least he's hot. (Really hot, if Steve's honest with himself.) And terrifying, so nobody would mess with Steve so long as he's Eddie's... whatever.
Thankfully, Steve's saved from further contemplating his hypothetical future prison life by a key rattling in the cell's lock; Eddie immediately leans back and jumps across the room, so by the time Chief Hopper steps through the door, he's already sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands folded in his lap, a picture of pure innocence.
Hopper turns to Steve first, something apologetic in his voice as he says, "We viewed the security camera footage, you're free to go, Harrington."
With a relieved huff, Steve scrambles to get up. Meanwhile, Hopper turns his attention to Eddie, regards the half-fallen-apart ridiculousness on his head, rolls his eyes and heaves a tired-sounding sigh.
"You too, Munson. Next time someone dares you to streak through a public space, just pick truth instead, would ya?"
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Ten minutes later, they both walk outside in their street clothes. Well, Steve's in his street clothes; Eddie's only garment is a thin grey medical blanket Hopper's helpfully provided him with. Eddie's wrapped it around himself like a toga.
"So..." Steve turns to him and smirks. "How much exactly of what you said in there was total bullshit?"
Eddie cackles at the question. "I'd say about... ninety percent. I clearly am a rising star of pottyball, you know." He waits a beat for Steve to laugh, then adds, "And you do have a very pretty smile."
Steve bites his lip, feeling heat in his cheeks at the compliment. In the light of day, outside the cell, it's like he sees Eddie for the first time, in his silly blanket toga, squinting at the bright sunlight. And he feels ridiculous about ever thinking this man could be dangerous. Insane? Probably. Full of shit? Oh, definitely. Hot? Yes, very much. Dangerous though? Laughable.
And so, Steve finds himself asking, "Wanna get coffee and tell me something real about yourself?"
Eddie looks surprised by the offer, his smile turning a little bashful, and he hides behind a lock of hair before looking down at himself and chuckling.
"I'm probably gonna need some clothes first."
"Nah," Steve teases, briefly checking him out. "You're rocking this outfit."
"And you're absolutely right, I am, but unfortunately this thing is about five seconds from falling apart," Eddie pointedly fixes the half-loosened knot on his shoulder. "And something tells me Hopper won't be so lenient about repeated public indecency."
Steve giggles and finally takes pity on the guy. "Okay, my car's parked, like, two blocks from here. I have some clean gym clothes you can borrow."
"Lead the way, pretty boy," Eddie grins and follows him with a goofy little twirl.
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enwifen · 2 days
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PAINT ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR PRETTY GIRLS 𓂃𓏲࣪ ˖࣪
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🍃 ˖࣪ ──── a pretty girl like you has no reason to be insecure about the way you look but, you still feel self conscious anyway… luckily your lovely husband is here to help.
pairing. artist!sunghoon x fem reader wc. 1.8k
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𝒯oday just wasn’t your day.
You could just feel that something was off, your usual happy-go-lucky mood absent from the moment you woke up. ‘It’s okay, everyone has those days’ you say to yourself, trying to find a small spark of happiness inside you as you get ready for the day.
Sunlight spills through the windows and seeing as your husband was known to be a morning person, you weren’t surprised to see the space next to you empty. He was most likely in his art studio downstairs, inspiration often hitting him first thing in the morning.
Your eyes flicker up to your reflection while you brush your teeth. What you see in the mirror only seems to further sour your mood. To anyone else? You look the same as you did yesterday and all the days before that. To you? You don’t.
It’s little things too. Your skin texture just slightly more noticeable, dark spots more prominent… even that pesky pimple on your forehead looks more red than it did yesterday even after the cream you put on it.
Again, you try and push all the negativity to the back of your mind. Hoping to spit it all down the drain as you exit the bathroom.
As expected, you find your husband sat in front of his easel with a palette and brush in hand. He greets you with a smile though it quickly fades as he almost immediately picks up on your low mood.
“Morning sweetheart, is everything alright? You seem a little…”
A sigh leaves your lips, as much as you want to say you’re fine you know you can’t hide anything from Sunghoon.
“No…” you pout. He frowns and puts his supplies down, wiping his hands before opening his arms. You walk over to sit on his knee, allowing him to hug you.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks softly.
“I just…” you bite your lip, trailing off.
“It’s okay, take your time baby.” Sunghoon says, one of his hands coming up to stroke your hair.
“I feel really ugly today… I woke up feeling off this morning and as soon as i saw myself in the mirror I—”
“Shh, shh, it’s alright… I hate when my girl is so upset, what makes you think you’re ugly, princess? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.”
Sunghoon listens attentively as you list your insecurities. He shakes his head a little as you talk. He doesn’t mean to invalidate your feelings but, at the same time, he also can’t fathom how someone as ethereal and angelic looking as his wife could possibly think they’re anything but that.
“Oh Y/n… if only you could see what I—, you know what? Why don’t you take a seat over there.” He says, nodding over to the stool a few feet behind his easel.
“Hoon I really don’t feel like being painted right now—”
“Please, my love? If you really don’t want to I won’t push you but…” you gnaw on your bottom lip, on one hand you don’t want to have your insecurities drawn but at the same time you know Sunghoon would never do anything to upset you further so… you kinda wanna see what he’s getting at.
You lift yourself up and go to sit in front of him.
“Perfect…” he mutters, picking up his brush and watercolour palette. You always loved whenever Sunghoon would use watercolours.
Throughout the course of your relationship, Sunghoon had drawn you countless times. Doodling you in his notebook during classes when you still went, sketching you during one of your picnic dates… the list goes on. He was precise with each and every stroke, wanting every piece of art to be perfect.
So even though it didn’t take him long to finish, you could tell this wasn’t just some half assed piece of artwork he was drawing just to boost your self esteem.
“Love? I’m finished, why don’t you come and take a look?” And you do, rising from your seat and walking to stand beside him.
The painting is… unreal. Simply saying that it’s beautiful is an understatement. Simply saying that you were beautiful is an understatement.
Splashes of your favourite colours serve as the background, making you seem vibrant even on your dullest day. Each pencil line that joins to create you and your features is soft, eliminating the harsh critiques you had for your face. Sparkles replaced your dark spots and even that pimple you hated so much was replaced by a small flower. With everything you hated about your face, Sunghoon made his love blossom from it.
He turns to look up on you, hand on the small of your back rubbing soothingly. “Do you like it?”
“I… I love it but… hoonie this isn’t me.”
“You’re right, it’s not just you, it’s how I see you.”
Tears began to well up in your eyes at that.
“Now do you see? How it’s impossible for me to see you as anything but the pretty girl you are? I never understood back when you used to ask me why I stayed with you… why wouldn’t I? Y/n, you’re beauty itself.” He says earnestly, you can hear how Sunghoon means every word as he wipes your tears away.
“You’re too sweet.” You sniffle, Sunghoon chuckles lightly in response.
“I only speak the truth, baby.” He says, standing to pull you into a proper hug. When it came to feeling insecure, hearing ‘stop, you’re literally so pretty’ wasn’t enough sometimes. You could smile and nod but it didn’t actually make you feel better. Now, having such a loving husband by your side, your insecurities could easily be pushed to the side.
Maybe they would come back later, maybe they wouldn’t. One things for sure, with the way Sunghoon looks at you as if you were the prettiest painting in the gallery, you could care less about how you looked right now.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Thanks to Sunghoon, you didn’t feel as bad as you did this morning which meant you were still good to attend the opening of his new art gallery.
“Are you sure? You know you don’t have to, love.”
“Of course I do! You know I wanna come and be supportive of my favourite artist~”
A pink hue spreads across Sunghoon’s cheeks. Cute, you thought. Even after being such a successful painter and getting compliments on his work daily, still he would blush at any praise given to him by you.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, laughing at you being the one to blush now. Being an artist meant Sunghoon had a keen eye for detail which always came in handy when it came to buying dresses for you.
It was probably best you didn’t ask how much your dress cost, choosing to smile and accept the gift instead. It fit your frame perfectly, the light material flowing in the wind as you walked out into the night.
In Sunghoon’s eyes you were truly something out of a dream. His dream come true.
You watch as the city lights pass you by, tuning out the sounds of your husband on the phone making some last minute arrangements, you assume.
A sense of pride fills your chest as you take in the full gallery, watching the various people admire your husband’s artwork. He deserves it, every single bit of praise as he stands by one of his paintings, smiling and humbly accepting all the compliments.
You’re perfectly content standing on your own for a little while, sipping on a flute or champagne. You smile at the memory of Sunghoon basically showing you off to everyone an hour prior.
“Ahh, with a pretty wife like that I’d wanna show her off all the time too…”
“It makes sense, he’s a handsome guy, of course his wife is beautiful too.”
“No wonder they’ve been together so long, I’d do anything to keep a gorgeous girl like that by my side.”
Those were just a few of the comments you heard. Safe to say your low self esteem was nowhere to be found.
A glance at the clock tells you the event would soon be coming to an end. You were sure everyone had gotten a chance to look at all the different pieces your husband made, all except for one…
A glass case stood in the middle of the room, inside a white sheet covering what seemed to be a statue…? Of some sort.
The chime of Sunghoon’s fork tapping his glass garners everyone’s attention. He gently tugs you to stand beside him again as he speaks.
“Hello everyone, once again I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight… it’s always been my dream to open my own gallery and even though this one isn’t the first, I’m still so grateful for all of you that have attended.”
You both smile as Sunghoon receive an enthusiastic round of applause. You both bow politely.
“Special thanks to my parents who have always told me to follow my dreams and, of course, to my beautiful wife Y/n for always being my biggest supporter and source of inspiration.” He says, you’re sure your cheeks hurt from smiling so big but you can’t help it.
“This last piece of artwork is really special to me, I love all of my art piece but this one holds a special place in my heart, just like the certain someone it was created after.” Your brows furrow a little in disbelief but you keep smiling, body vibrating with excited nerves as you start to catch on. “I’ve only just started to get into sculpting so it may not be the best but, I’m proud of it regardless… now without further ado, allow me to reveal my newest masterpiece.”
Sunghoon smiles, leaving your side to open the glass case. Carefully tugging off the white sheet.
You turn around to look and your jaw drops, covering your mouth you feel tears begin to pool in your eyes.
The sculpture is you. And not just you, but the painting Sunghoon had made of you earlier that day. He must’ve drawn it from memory but it still looked beautiful regardless, it was Sunghoon behind the easel after all.
The lights in the gallery darken to allow a spotlight to shine on the sculpture though it also highlights you. Every single detail is highlighted and all the audience can do is stare and awe.
Sunghoon walks back around to you, smiling warmly.
“How do you like it, baby?”
“I… hoonie are you kidding me? I love it!” You exclaim, ignoring the tears that fall. You don’t realise how they sparkle under the spotlight, as if your tears were made out of crystals. Softly, Sunghoon wipes them away. Another round of applause ensues, though you’re still in your small little bubble with him.
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The gallery is empty now, you and Sunghoon being the only ones left. Sat on one of the benches, your head resting on his shoulder, still admiring the sculpture he made of you. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so loved before.
“It’s beautiful…”
“You’re beautiful.”
You giggle softly. “Stop it.”
“Never.” He grins.
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jojotichakorn · 3 days
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so, in the midst of me constantly thinking about and analysing phum, i didn't write that much meta on peem or really think about his reasoning too much. for a long while, i dismissed his slightly erratic behaviour as a response to phumpeem's initial meeting and how their relationship has been set up because of it, but this episode solidified the fact that that's not it.
instead, for whatever reason, peem is insecure.
the most damning piece of evidence for this, i think, does not involve phum at all (and that is exactly the reason why it's such good evidence). though the majority of this post will still be about phumpeem lmao.
so, when peem claims that there is nothing going on between him and phum, kluen says that means he still has a chance, which gives us this confused face:
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nothing in the world could produce this reaction in these circumstances, aside from insecurity. kluen isn't phum. he and peem don't have any bizarre backstory together, and he is very direct about his romantic pursuit. he explicitly said he came to the camp to hit on peem in front of all his friends and he reiterated the sentiment by saying what he did in this scene. the only kind of person who would need a clarification, when things are laid out that clearly is a person who is insecure and therefore has a hard time being sure about the fact that someone likes them and/or is actively trying to hit on them.
now, onto the star of the show: phumpeem! what do we know about peem's pov of their relationship at this point? 1) he has fully admitted that he likes phum, to the point of literally calling himself out on even trying to deny it. 2) he is happy about the fact that he likes phum. we are leagues away from the possibility that he has any issues with phum or the fact that he has a crush on him, which we have so much proof of, whether it be him actively enjoying the fact that phum is trying to get his attention, him looking at phum as if he hung the moon and calling him prince charming, him literally giggling and kicking his feet at that memory the next day, him instantly forgiving phum because he genuinely trusts him and thinks he is a good person, even if he makes mistakes sometimes, or any of the other clear signs that he is enjoying what's going on between them, both in the moment and in retrospective.
and now, let's take a look at all the moments from today's episode through the lens of peem's insecurity in himself and security in his feelings / phum:
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him acting a little weird and distant after hugging phum the whole night, very reminiscent of the way he acted the day after their first kiss. both times after moments when peem made the first move.
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him acting genuinely confused about phum's behaviour towards kluen, despite getting a fairly clear confirmation that phum is jealous when he literally bribed a child to get peem away from kluen. this is definitely not a "what a weirdo" face, this is a "wait, what's going on here?" face. he does not get it.
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him claiming there is nothing going on between phum and him, despite clearly wanting that something and being in the depths of the talking stage, which is definitely a real relationship stage to him, as that was how he described chain and toey to q.
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him looking a little heartbroken, when phum says he wants to call off the deal, as if that would actually mean that they stop spending time together.
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him confirming that that is indeed his fear, when he literally looks terrified at the prospect and fully asks to continue being phum's "slave".
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him not being able to admit why he kept the flowers
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or making up a lie about not having finished the painting, even though he definitely has, because he literally said so to his aunt.
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and him answering a question with a question, needing to hear the fact that phum likes him directly first, before he confesses back. which, in all this context, just doesn't read as stubbornness.
all of this makes sense, if you consider the fact that peem is insecure and is afraid of reading into other people, when what he's trying to glean is their opinion of him specifically.
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one big thing that he constantly repeats (this moment is far from the only time he says that in this episode alone) is asking phum to tell him what he thinks directly. mind you, unlike phum, who is just constantly deeply confused about everyone and can't take implications for shit, peem is actually absolutely incredible at understanding what other people's feelings are, even when they don't tell him directly, as long as the feelings in question aren't about peem.
he also manages those small bursts of confidence, like kissing phum first or reaching out to him, but they are not long-lasting and are often followed by bursts of denial and shyness, which is extremely common for someone who is insecure but also impressively brave.
and here is your key to pre-relationship phumpeem and the reason why we are on episode 10 and they are still not dating. insecure x insecure can be hard at times. they both need the other to outright state their feelings, and that is just not easy for either of them. but they are getting there. together 🫶
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ckret2 · 14 hours
Text
Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.
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It goes so great.
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As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.
"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.
"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."
"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"
"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?
Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"
Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?
Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."
"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."
Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?
####
When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.
"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."
Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."
"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."
"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."
They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—
—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.
"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"
"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"
"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"
Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."
But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."
"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.
Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"
"Yep!"
"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"
"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."
"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.
"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"
"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."
"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."
"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.
Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.
"All of them!"
Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"
"Yep! Every last one!"
"Is the design changing that much?"
"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"
"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"
"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"
"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."
"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."
Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.
He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.
On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?
After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"
"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.
"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?
But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"
"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.
This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.
Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"
"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"
"Loud and clear," Ford said.
"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."
Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"
"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."
Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"
"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."
"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...
He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"
"Is it working?"
"It was! Don't let us distract you."
Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—
"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"
"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"
Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."
"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"
"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."
Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...
Then something went wrong.
There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.
"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."
Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.
"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.
"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.
The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 
They screamed.
"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"
They screamed again.
"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"
Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"
"Ow. What the heck, man."
Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 
Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.
Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"
"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"
"How?!"
Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—
"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"
"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.
The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.
He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"
"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.
"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."
There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—
Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"
"What—!"
Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.
Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"
He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.
Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.
Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"
Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"
"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"
"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."
"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"
"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"
Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."
"Let's get you back where you belong."
Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.
Ford said, "You're never doing that again."
"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.
"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"
"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.
"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.
Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.
"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.
For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.
Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.
"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"
Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."
####
"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"
Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.
Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"
Teeth waved his hands emphatically.
"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"
Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.
"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"
"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."
"Why not?!"
"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."
8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.
8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."
Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.
8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."
"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.
"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."
Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.
"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.
"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."
"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"
"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."
"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."
8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"
"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."
"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"
"I'm in."
"Teeth?"
Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."
"Big Z?"
Zanthar gave a thumbs up.
Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"
Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."
She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."
"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.
Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."
"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."
Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.
Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."
####
Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.
And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.
As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."
"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."
"So, we're doing the right thing?"
Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."
####
(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)
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everyb0dysf00l · 2 days
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How the Cullens would react to being asked to hold your drink
(Gifs not mine, creds to owners)
Edward
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General
He is extremely confused
You want him to hold your drink?
For safety?
If you don't know he's a vampire, you've just handed a dude you barely know your beverage, how dangerous
If you do know he's a vampire, how could you trust such a cold-hearted, soulless monster with something so important?
If you can't tell, he's extremely self-loathing
He'll most likely agree but very reluctantly
Although he probably doesn't care about you, he can read the minds of the people in the party/bar you're in and knows how dangerous it is for you to leave your drink unattended
He probably wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't
Dating
He's already taken it before you can ask
Guard dog mode turned to 100
He's surveying the area like crazy
If even one person with a bad thought/aura comes near your drink he's glaring them down
Hand over the top, vice grip on the cup itself
Tbh if you're dating him he probably won't want you at a place like this at all
Rosalie
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I'm sorry to say this but she would probably look at you judgementaly
You'll have to explain it to her, not because she doesn't understand why you want her to hold it but because she is genuinely just that judgemental
She'll probably sigh and snatch the cup out of your hands, telling you to "be quick"
No one wants to come near that drink with her holding it, trust me
Her death glares will scare anyone in a five mile radius away
And if some guy walks up to her thinking he could somehow pull her he'll be dealt with
Dating
"Of course, hun"
No hesitation
She wants what's best for you and that absolutely means holding your drink while you go to the bathroom
She doesn't cover it with her hand but she definitely keeps it close to her body
If anyone so much as looks at the drink for too long they're getting a very intense death glare
Will hand it back with a smile when you return
Emmett
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"Of course, dude!"
*instant regret*
This man is going to spill that drink 0.2 seconds after you hand it to him
What can I say the man goes wild at the parties
Can he drink liquor? No, but when has that ever stopped him before?
Definitely forgets he can't drink and downs the whole thing
Only realises when you come back and ask where your drink is
Gets Edward to buy you a new one
He isn't trusted with a credit card
Dating
Not much of a difference tbh
Except maybe, MAYBE, he takes a bit better care of it
Doesn't understand why you want him to hold it
Probably assumes you don't want gross bathroom particles in it or something
When he finds out the real reason, he goes from goofy to serious almost immediately
"Wait, so there are people here who want to put stuff in your drink so they can..."
Contrary to popular belief, Emmett has a good understanding of how fucked up the world is. Growing up in poverty gave him a pretty good idea
But he last drank in the 1920s, drink drugging wasn't really a big thing back then
He's 100% more protective over you and the drink now
Literally offering to fight anyone whose stupid enough to come near it
Alice
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Alice is always looking to talk to new people so she'll 100% hold your drink happily
Somehow manages to continue dancing while holding the drink and not spilling it
Definitely thinks about how easy it would be for her to do something to it
She wouldn't, obviously, but she definitely thinks about it once or twice
Unless Edward bribes her with something, in which case she'll 100% do something to it (sorry 😬)
"A porche, you say"
But she likely will take good care of it regardless
Dating
Will take it no questions asked
Jokes about already knowing you'd ask her to hold it
Waits for you outside the bathroom so you two can continue dancing
If anyone comes near it she threatens them in the sweetest voice possible with a smile on her face
Jasper
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The man is bamboozled
He's just staring at you in his Jasper way trying his best not to eat you
Why are you asking him?
Ask Emmett or something
Its an awkward silence with you just stood there waiting for an answer
Alice will eventually show up and take it from you, reassuring you she'll take care of it
Dating
But of course
He's got an iron hold on this cup
He can feeling other people's emotions he definitely knows what type of people are at this party/bar
He won't come out from his corner until you come back
Will stare at anyone who comes near it like
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Esme
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This sweetheart doesn't care if you're a total stranger, she'll hold your drink absolutely.
She isn't extreme with the way she holds your cup, just a simple hold relaxed to her body
She's most likely either with Carlisle or the other moms at the party so, she's not going to be around anyone dangerous enough to do anything.
Hopefully
Dating
She'll offer to come with you to the bathroom and will stand outside patiently for you to return.
Sways to the music playing over the speakers but not too much so the drink doesn't spill over.
If a creep tries to do anything to it, she'll put them in their place. Like a mother scolding a scorned child.
I think people tend to forget, Esme has a very traumatic backstory. She isn't blind to the dangers of the world and she knows what kind of people are out there, her ex husband was one of them
Gives it back immediately after you return with a smile on her face
Carlisle
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He looks down on drinking and will "scold" you for it but he also knows the dangers of leaving a drink unattended
He's seen too many cases of drink drugging in the ER to just leave someone's drink unattended
If he sees someone leave their's alone he'd approach them to tell them how dangerous it is
He holds the drink relatively normal and keeps an eye out in case someone does try anything but he isn't a full on guard dog over it
He can't be 100% trusted though. This man has committed multiple medical malpractices and justifies it with "science" (remember what he did to Jacob without his consent?)
Dating
He's pretty much the same here
He'll probably try to talk you out of drink more often though
He might be a bit more rigid with how he holds your cup
Again, he's seen too many drink drugging cases to let you leave it unattended
Images of what could happen to you if he doesn't take care of your drink properly are in his mind
Edward might have to try calm him down because his thoughts would be hectic
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Pls like and reblog if you liked this♥
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