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#sandwi
givemegifs · 1 year
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cutsliceddiced · 2 years
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New GIF tagged giphyupload, tv, food, reactions, wink, yum, celebrity, react, flirt, channel9, sandwich, subway, shirtless, apprentice, celebrityapprentice, celebrityapprenticeaustralia, celebapprentice via Giphy https://ift.tt/DHinx6U via https://cutslicedanddiced.wordpress.com/2018/01/24/how-to-prevent-food-from-going-to-waste
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angst-and-fajitas · 8 months
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Maybe I should delete the sandwich reblog before it destroys my phone, but consider: it's a funny prank to play on the mutuals
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kirbyofthestars · 2 years
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sorry to keep dumping comics into your inbox kjnibdfhsugfojnf but
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idk if this is even funny or anything i just found a textpost when looking up gay textposts and got an idea
THIS IS SO SWEET AWWWW. mlm/wlw solidarity
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bellsliturgy · 1 year
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BREAD FISH! - CLICK HERE
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"what the fuck is bread fish? why is the fish in the bread? what a terrible fish sandwich, i would like a refund."
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pjackk · 10 months
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COLD BREAKFAST
HAVE A NICE DAY
Have A Nice Day! cal
HOT BREAKFAST
HOT BREAKFAST SANDWI
WAFFLE BAR
YOGURT
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pinkcatcafe · 1 year
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As The World Falls Down
Quick Description: Grim's thought process as he sees the reader going through an overblot.
A/N: I'd been thinking about this for a while now, and I just couldn't keep it in my system any longer. It's not written but the reader doesn't die, I wouldn't just leave Grim alone like that... maybe some other time lol now it's time for me to go to bed.
TW: Angst, no comfort?, mention of wanting to vomit
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It felt like everything around him came to a sudden halt the moment Grim looked up at you.
He wondered what he had done wrong to have this happen to you. Sure, you looked more tired these days, your eyes more dull, but you said you were okay, so Grim just assumed that Crowley had given you his paperwork to complete again or something.
But seeing you frantically backing away from everyone, from him, while blot dripped-no, gushed- out of your nose had his head spinning. You started coughing, trying to get the blot out of your esophagus, and the noise felt like nails on a chalkboard to Grim.
His eyes started filling up rapidly with tears and your hunched figure became blurry. He wondered, Why? Why was this happening to you, his one and only hench-human? Sure, he often skipped out on his work and classes, and sometimes he would steal some food from your plate, but he didn't think this would happen. Not to you, the person who had his back through thick and thin, no matter what happened or what he did.
He sees Jack pick you up and start running, making a beeline for the infirmary and before he can register his own movement, he's running. He can faintly hear Ace and Deuce telling him to stop, but his only focus was catching up to Jack. He runs and runs and runs, and he keeps running after you, even when his lungs burn, even if he feels like he's about to throw up.
He should have been nicer, more diligent. Maybe if he studied harder you wouldn't have ended up like this. Maybe if he had shared his tuna with you, you would've been laughing alongside the rest of the first years without a care in the world. Maybe if he told you how much he truly appreciated you, you would have been okay, sitting at the Ramshackle dorms dusty couches, giving him the kisses he said he hated so much. Maybe, maybe, maybe-
He sees the infirmary door thrown open, a trail of inky black blot leading inside, and he rushes in without a second thought, nearly bumping into Jack. Jack was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, but he was quickly falling apart, distraught at the sight of you writhing in the infirmary bed. Grim looked at you, crying out in pain, reaching your hand out for someone and he rushed over to you, ignoring how Jack yelled at him to not get closer.
Grim put his paws in your waiting hands and begged. He begged you to stay with him, to not leave him. He begged the Seven to not take you away from him, and when that didn't seem to work, he made promises to you.
He promised he would attend all his classes.
Grim woke up in a panic. He had a nightmare, and instinctively started to look for you in the darkness of your shared room. His movement had shaken you awake, and you softly called out to him. "Are you okay?" He looked at you, and relief filled his body at the sound of your voice. He nodded, and you opened up your arms, inviting Grim to sleep closer to you. He shuffles over and lays down on your chest, your waiting arms hugging his shivering body close. "It's okay, I'm right here with you." You say, and before sleep fully takes over him, he feels you kiss his forehead.
He promised he would share his precious tuna with you everyday.
"Grim!" You yell out, and Grim hurries to hide the (already half eaten) sandwich he was eating behind his back. "Did you eat my sandwich?" You say with an angry tone, and he swallows the piece of sandwich he had in his mouth before answering. "N-no! I don't know what you're talking about! It must have been Ace!" You narrow your eyes and scoff at him. "The last time Ace was here was two days ago, and I just made that sandwich!" Grim knew he had been caught, and before you could catch him, he ran away. "Grim! Get back here right now!" He could faintly hear the ghosts laughing at him as he dashed through Ramshackle, with you hot on his heels.
He promised he wouldn't leave you to clean up his messes.
Grim could hear sniffling coming from the other side of the bedroom door, and he slowly began to open it. You were sitting on the edge of the bed hunched over, your hands covering your face. "Hench-human?" He called out, and you turned your head towards him, your eyes red and glossy. He jumped up on the bed next to you and asked you what was wrong. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed." You reply, bringing a hand up to his head, slowly petting him. Grim looks up at your for a moment before he crawls over to your lap and lays his back against your stomach, pointing his thumb at his chest. "There's nothing to worry about when the Great Grim is here with you!" He smirks up at you, and you smile at his statement. Your arms wrap him in a tight hug and you softly reply, "Yeah, at least you're here with me."
He would make you a million promises if it meant that you would be okay. If it meant that he would wake up every morning to your smile, telling him it was time to get up and get ready for class. If it meant you would stay by his side forever.
He would do anything, and so he begged once more;
Please, don't leave me.
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tomz1ng · 4 months
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sandwi
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spade-riddles · 4 months
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Please don’t tell me that coat repetition is a hint that she’s attending that game on Sunday 😮
If she does go, it is almost over. If he loses his season is over. She starts tour in Tokyo on February 7th.
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joifee · 1 year
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Hello! I see you like bread. I don't know if you watch Witchcraft SMP, but if you do, I think drawing LaurenZside would be fun. She has had the title of "The Bread Queen" for years, and now in Witchcraft she has become a literal sandwich. That also happens to be a sand witch. Seems suiting for someone who likes bread, if you like :)
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A bewitching sandwi(t)ch!
you are speaking my language i love bread and i love lauren is a sandwich
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prohaloplayer · 1 year
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spicy chicken sandwi ch. with pickles of course. crunch y lettuce
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consistentlyamess · 6 months
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We'll see about that - Chapter 1⎮Open with me, oh, we could be honest
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[4.4K-ish]
pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: You just wanted a fresh start but you might get more than you bargained for when the sleepy town of Hawkins lives up to its reputation.
warnings: takes place after season 4, 18+ , MDNI, slight age gap (reader is like 2 yrs older than Steve), canon typical violence, mentions of a lonely childhood, mentions of difficult relationship with parents, underage drinking, swearing, eventual smut, abusive relationship, brief stancy storyline, strangers to friend to lovers, pining, slowburn
A/N: I HAVE VERY LITTLE IDEA ABOUT WHAT I'M DOING AND I'M TERRIFIED. but I did get about 10 more likes than I expected, and I've been thinking about this story for so long, that so far it's kind of flowing out of me. so here's chapter 1!!! I probably won't be able to keep this pace up, just a heads up. *hides under a rock immediately after posting* just please bear with me while I figure out what I'm doing here, I guess. idk if it's a warning or not but english is not my first language and it's not beta-d. so. it is what it is . 'tough girl' is a very conscius nod to mizz @loveshotzz who had me on. the. floor. with AIRWIY
💜💜💜 TY for reading!!!! 💜💜💜
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You woke up with a pounding headache. Sometimes they still came. Mostly like this, in the morning, out of nowhere and it takes about two or three aspirins for them to go away.
This is the first hiccup. The last time you had a headache like this, it was about finals time back in Bloomington. You just wanted to get out, you wanted it to be over, barely slept, barely ate, so the headaches were no surprise really. Then after graduation, when you were leaving one cursed town for another, you thought you left the headaches behind as well. Which very obviously was not the case. But they passed pretty easily compared to the previous ones.
The week passed in a blur mostly. You hung out at Family Video quite a lot and when you weren’t there it was mostly just getting used to the town. The first couple of days you find a diner where you can have coffee in the morning. The second morning you run into Steve. 
‘Hey, stranger, how are you doing?’ He says with a boyish smile. 
‘Just getting my morning coffee, trying to show this lovely town that I’m just like them, you know, coffee, pancakes, the works.’ 
‘Good thinking, you would be truly terrifying otherwise.’
‘You think?’
‘Oh, absolutely! 5”6 woman with a killer smile and - and I quote - decent cooking skills? Dangerous.’ He’s flirting with you but you pretend to be oblivious.
‘Well, wait ‘till you see my reward sticker collection. The lack of teachers shows, stacked up some pretty great stars and flowers and whatnot. Those kids won’t know what hit ‘em.’
Fine, maybe not that oblivious.
‘Wow, bringing out the big guns early, huh? How does one earn those stickers? Would some A-grade guacamole do the job at a dinner party?’ 
‘We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.’ 
‘Guess so.’ You reach the coffee shop and he’s opening the door for you with a sly smile. Oh, boy. 
As you get to the counter, you see that a tiny brunette is already balancing some coffees and pastries there. 
‘... and I’ll also take like four of the cheese sandwiches.’  ‘Coming right up! Hey, give those pastries back, I’ll get you a bigger bag.’ 
‘Thanks, Al.’ 
You don’t miss the way Steve stiffens a little beside you.
‘Having a party Wheeler?’ He says. 
‘Oh, god, you scared me.’ The tiny woman said, clutching at her chest. Her big eyes and tiny pointy nose made her look very cute.
‘You know exactly that’s for those assholes in the office.’ She says with a frown. 
‘I know, you looked very cute though.’ She smiles shyly at that, looking down at her feet. Oh, boy, indeed. 
‘Hi, we haven’t met before-’ you reach out trying to cut the tension.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I was so occupied with those goddamn sandwiches.’ She shakes her head and takes your hand immediately. ‘I’m Nancy, Nancy Wheeler. You must be the new girl. Robin told me all about you. Went on a tirade actually. You’re starting in Hawkins Elementary, right?’ 
‘News travel a little unsettlingly fast here.’ You let out a nervous laugh. ‘But yes, that would be me.’ 
She glances up at Steve, who suddenly finds something very interesting on the menu above the counter. He runs a hand up his neck and squints at the menu. Subtle, Steven, really. Seamless. 
‘So, she told you about the dinner on Saturday as well?’ 
‘A little more actually, she invited me.’ She frowned again and it made you laugh again.
‘Good! That’s exactly what I was about to do.’
‘Great! She told me she was gonna bring a pie but I’m betting my left arm she’s gonna burn it, so we’ll bring a back-up.’ 
‘We?’ 
‘Jesus, what a fun bunch we are. My boyfriend, Jonathan, is coming too. But only if it’s okay with you! He's staying for a while, finally. A little socialization we’ll do good for him.’ 
OH. BOY. So many alarm bells go off in your brain you can’t even count them. 
‘Next!’ Al shouts out. 
‘Sorry, one sec.’ You excuse yourself and you count your lucky stars that it immediately snapped you out of it. You’re not sure you could’ve contained your face.
‘Hi, Al! Can I get a black coffee to go please?’ 
‘If you ask this nicely, you can have anything, sweetheart. Comin’ right up! Anything else for you? The muffins are fresh.’ 
‘Oh, I wouldn’t miss that! Please, throw one in!’ You smile sweetly and he smiles back. On another day, in another café you might have suggested something very different this guy could do with his fresh muffin but you needed this town to like you. If anything happens or if you run out of gas in the middle of the road, you need to have friends. People looking out for each other. Looking out for you. That’s what these small towns are all about, right? 
‘Jesus, keep it in your pants Al.’ Steve mutters to himself and both you and Nancy raise an eyebrow.
‘Okay, I totally forgot, I have an appointment with the…’ Shit. You’re blanking. ‘... the, uh, the school counselor!’ You say a little more loudly, you’re so proud of yourself. ‘So, I’m off.’ You slap a two dollar bill on the counter and start moving toward your exit.
‘Who? Miss Kelly? Isn’t she on vacation, still?’ Nancy asks. ‘I haven’t seen her in like a week.’ 
‘Well, I have an appointment with someone, maybe it’s not the school counselor. I didn’t, uhm, write it down. But I’ll see you guys on Saturday, right?’ You wave your goodbye and your lungs feel less tight right away as you get out of the diner, leaving a little dumbfounded Nancy and Steve behind you. Whatever you walked in the middle of, you want no part of it. No matter how boyish his smile or homely brown his eyes are.
***
Staying away proves to be way more difficult than you thought though. Robin is way too nice to say no to, and more importantly, you really like her. It also doesn't take long until you meet the other members of the party. You met Jonathan one time at the library you visited. He was with Nancy, looking for something they didn’t elaborate on. A very endearing stoner Argyle, a gloomy kid, who visited his not-a-girlfriend friend in the hospital every week, Lucas, his quippy and lovebly snappy sister Erica, a kid with the smartest mouth on him you’ve ever seen, Dustin, Will, who’s very soft spoken is really fast to become one of  you favorites, not just because he’s really into art, Nancy’s broody brother Mike and of course the shy and sweet El. Or Jane. You’re not sure and nobody else seems to be either. But, hey, who were you to complain about weird nicknames? But all of that came with a lot of Steve on the side and keeping the flirting to the minimum was a real challenge. Especially ‘cause you liked it. He knew what he was doing and he was good at it. But it was impossible to miss how he softened when he saw Nancy, how something akin to hope flickered in his eyes.
It was also impossible to miss that they were hiding something. At one time Mike referred to the mall fire with air quotes and Robin immediately kicked him in the shin. Whenever Will touched his neck, everyone became tense. El kept looking around and spacing out sometimes, until Mike brought her back with a gentle tug on her hand. You’re not stupid, you pick up on these things. But you don’t ask too many questions. They’ll tell you if they want to. Or not. That’s also fine with you. Everyone has secrets and it’s not a surprise that a town like this may harbor more than one. 
The second hiccup does come at the dinner though. You were nervous all day. And of course cooking and cleaning all day. You made lasagne and your favourite salad with grenadine seeds and walnuts, and some chocolate chip cookies, just to be safe. You bought wine and soda, a bunch of scented candles, you cautiously put up fairy lights, the first thing that made the place look more cozy, more yours. Your chest tightened at the thought a little. This is okay, this is your place. This is what people do when they have a place. You were just renting, of course, but the owners made it pretty clear that they’re not planning on coming back anytime soon, so they gave you the all clear on any makeover your heart desired. You didn’t know what your heart desired. Not yet anyway. You were so focused on just getting a place, any place, you would’ve taken a room in an attic without lighting. You’re a little startled by the doorbell as you get lost in your thoughts while tossing the salad. 
‘Shit’ you mutter to yourself. You haven’t changed, your hair is a mess, you’re a little sweaty from all the work you’ve done and of course the table is not set yet. Great going, Peach. One hell of a first impression. Well, it wasn’t a first impression, not really, but still. The doorbell goes off again. 
‘Coming!’ As you tear the door open it presents a bickering Robin and Steve. 
‘... I took my eyes off of it for one second, Steve-’ 
‘Yeah, well the recipe clearly stated that you have to watch it very closely! Constantly!’
‘Oh, my go- Peach!’ Robin rasps as she notices you standing there. She basically throws herself in your arms. ‘I burned the pie.’ She says in a sad voice that reminds you so much of a kid who was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. ‘I failed you, I’m so sorry!’  ‘Oh, honey, it’s okay! I made some chocolate chip cookies, Nancy is bringing some pie as well, we’re all good sweets, don’t you worry!’ You tell her, hugging her tightly and laying a kiss on the top of her head for good measure. ‘And next time just call me, my pies are the talk of every Thanksgiving. I can give you some tips and tricks.’ 
‘You’re an angel.’ Robin sighs. Above her shoulder you lock eyes with Steve for a minute. He watches the two of you with the most doughy eyes and smile you’ve seen on him so far. He waves a little and huffs out a quiet ‘hi’. You take one of your hands from the girls back and wave back to him. He keeps watching and you can’t take it. You pull Robin away, grabbing her shoulders. 
‘Alright, early birds get the worm’ you clap your hands ‘which means, you guys get to help me with the finishing touches, while I go take a shower and change, because I may smell like an onion but I have so much flour and butter on me that if you put me in the oven for 20 minutes on 350º I might come back as a pie as well.’ 
You make them laugh with that and the little laugh that comes out of Steve makes you want to run away into the woods and scream, it's so sweet. For the love of GOD, girl, get it the fuck together. This time Robin’s prodding finger in your ribs is what snaps you out of your state. 
‘You're the boss! We’re at your service, m’lady!’ she bows theatrically.  ‘Band kid?’ 
‘Trumpet’ Steve says with a shit eating grin. Robin seems a little uncomfortable at that. 
‘Figures. Band kids are always the best.’ You wink at Robin. ‘Stamina and nimble fingers. Exactly what you need in the kitchen.’ Wow, you’re staggeringly bad at this not flirting thing. 
‘Well, damn. If you were recruiting I’d never even look at a swimming pool or a basketball.’ Steve counters with the beginnings of that same shit eating grin. 
‘Jock?’ You ask, turning to Robin.
‘But a reformed one at that. Did some penance for his sins.’
‘By driving 12 year olds around town?’  ‘And by bringing wine and some beer to your dinner party, smartass.’ As he says it, he starts moving around you, already having rid himself of his coat and shoes. He leans close and almost whispers the last word in your ear. It makes the muscles in your neck flex. ‘So, where do you need us?’ Robin’s eyes ping-pong between the two of you so you turn around.  ‘Right. Plates are in the cabinet above the sink, cutlery in that drawer, glasses are already on the counter and you have some napkins on the table already. I’ll turn myself into a human again and be right back! Don’t break anything, please, I barely have enough stuff as it is.’ 
Your turn to make your way to the bathroom but you still catch the sound of Robin’s swat that probably lands on Steve’s arm. They hiss something at each other, but you try not to eavesdrop more. Not my circus, not my monkeys, not my circus, not my monkeys, not my circus, not my monkeys. 
By the time you make your way back, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle are all there. The letter with suspiciously narrow eyes and mellow smile. You make a mental note to ask him about that sometime. As you make your way to the table, still drying your hair with a towel, Nancy gasps. 
‘Oh, my god, I love your dress!’ 
‘Thank you!’ You answer as you reflexively look down at yourself, before hugging her. ‘It was my mom’s in the sixties. Real flower child shit, I love it.’ The dress is almost floor length, it has a warm, orange-ish shade thanks to the thousands of tiny flowers, but it also has a dark, almost black undertone. It hugs your hips and has small buttons running up all the way on the front, top three still hanging loose, revealing some of the lace underneath. 
‘Hell yeah, brochacha, I dig your style.’  You giggle at Argyle’s antiques as you hug the two boys shortly as a greeting. 
‘Hey, do you have a corkscrew somewhere in here?’ Steve calls from the kitchen without turning around. ‘Uhm, that’s a good question actually. Let me check!’ You make your way to the kitchen, and plop the towel on the counter temporarily.  ‘I- oh’ Steve says the moment he turns around and sees you. You’re suddenly very aware of those top three buttons. You should’ve buttoned them. ‘Wow, you, uh, you look really nice.’ He says, running a hand up and down his neck once. So, it is a nervous tick.  You hope to any higher power if they're there, that you don’t blush.  ‘Thanks.’ The smile you can’t hide. You know it’s there, he knows it’s there. Well, fuck. ‘So, have you checked the bottom drawer? I think that’s usually the bastard drawer.’ ‘Bastard drawer?’ He asks with furrowed brows but still not taking his eyes off of the tiny flowers.  ‘My mom used to call it that. It’s the drawer you just kind of throw shit in, shit you don’t know where else to put. It's kind of rude, now that I think about it.’ You grimace to yourself as you zero in on it.
He watches you as you move toward said drawer. He likes the way the dress sways with each step you take. It’s a slow, almost magical movement of fabric in his eyes. A mix between a witch and some sort of fairy. He likes that you’re still barefoot, you look at home, even though you’ve only been here for a little more than a week. He likes the way you tuck your wet hair behind your ear as you crouch down. He likes your wet hair too, if he’s being honest with himself. 
‘Uh-huh! The bastard drawer never disappoints.’  ‘Way to go flower child!’ Argyle chimes from somewhere in the living room. Steve shakes his head at that. But you can tell, he’s hiding a smile.  ‘Thanks dude!’ You shout back as Steve moves towards you. You think he’s going to help you up, but then Robin storms in.  ‘Hey, Peach- oh, come on, I’ll help you up.’ Something flashes in Steve’s eyes as he leans back on the counter.  ‘Do you need help with anything else?’  ‘You can help me bring in the drinks if you’re up for it. The lasagne need another 10 minutes but we can have some drinks until then.’  ‘Really? Me too?’  You snort. ‘I’m not your mom, babes, of course you can.’ 
The evening goes well after that. You get to chatting, you talk about uni, very briefly but you mention that you had a failed relationship as well, you gush about your favourite teacher and ask them about the children of Hawkins. They tell you about the town, about how they met, how they became closer when tragedy after tragedy struck. Robin mentions clumsily that Nancy and Steve used to be a thing, which in turn makes the whole table uncomfortable. Except for Argyle, who, god bless his heart, chimes in with a ‘This lasagne is schmashing dude’. Which eases the conversation again.  ‘It is really good, Peach.’ Steve emphasizes, tongue darting out to lick the corner of his lips. ‘When did you learn all of this?’ 
‘Well, growing up it was just my mom and me. We didn’t have a perfect relationship but she loved cooking. That was really the only thing we did together. Then she had to work more, so I had to do it on my own more and then when I was uni, it was comforting to do things we used to do together.’ You shrug a little almost as a sign that you don’t know what else to say. You do that a lot, Steve notes to himself. As well as the fact that your cheeks and chest get a little pink after two glasses of wine. Just some notes. You don’t know if it’s the wine or the fact that you haven't felt this calm, since what feels like a lifetime, but this sudden openness catches you off guard. But Robin jumps to the rescue again. 
‘Oh, my god, that is so sweet!’ She squeals and she grabs your hand. ‘By the way, I never asked you about how that kind of date went?’ 
Now she is the one with the deer caught in the headlight eyes. 
‘Duuuuude, you had a date? That’s awesome! How did it go?’ Argyle joins your inquiry.  ‘Oh, it was… well, we- uhm’ she gets caught off by the ring of the phone which she seems very grateful for. You? Less so.  ‘Who is- sorry, I’ll go get it.’ As you get closer to the phone, on the other side of the wall, your stomach starts to knot. No one is supposed to know this number. Maybe the school. Please, god, let it be the school. As you reach for the phone, you know it’s not the school. You’re so sure it makes you nauseous. Panic crawls up your throat, your hands are shaking but you know you can’t not answer. Normal people are not afraid to answer phone calls. 
‘Hello?’ You call but nobody answers. You swallow with a big gulp. ‘Hello?’ You try again, this time squeezing your eyes shut and balling your hand into a fist. And that’s when you hear it. Breathing on the other side. You panic and slap the phone back on the wall. 
‘Is everything okay?’ Steve asks and you hear the slide of a chair on the floor, and you start moving further into the kitchen.  ‘I- Y-eah’ you call with a crack in your voice. You take a deep breath, trying to stady yourself. ‘Just ah, a wrong number. I’ll go heat up the pie!’ You try to think about the cold metal of the Colt on your night stand. It’s okay, you’re safe here, you can protect yourself, you made sure. 
You’re already leaning against the stove when he finally catches up to you. 
‘Do you need help?’  ‘No, no, I got it’ you call back over your shoulder, without turning around. You crouch down in front of the oven and open it. The heat comes rushing out but it’s still not enough to warn you. You grab onto the sheet with reckless abandon and promptly burn yourself. 
‘Ouw- Fuck-’ ‘Shit, are you okay?!’ Steve comes rushing towards you as you hear the muffled sound of the others fussing in the living room.  ‘Shit, come on, come here.’ Now he helps you up, one hand holding your wrist, the other settling on the small of your back as he guides you to the sink. ‘We have to put some cold water on it, so it doesn’t blister.’ 
You can only nod. The panic of the phone call is still at the back of your throat but now the burn of your palm feels a lot more urgent, so you will your body and your mind to work together and prioritize here. As the cold water hits the burn, you hiss and Steve apologizes. 
‘No, please, it’s what you’re supposed to do.’  ‘So much for the pie tips and tricks, tough girl.’ He smiles at you a little mockingly.  ‘I never said anything about kitchen accidents. You got nothing on me Mugsy.’ ‘Alright-’ Before he can really get going, Robin clears her throat loudly in the kitchen door, standing with crossed arms.  ‘You guys okay in here?’  ‘Yeah!’ You say, pulling your hand away from Steve as gently as you can. ‘Yeah, just burned my hand. Nothing life threatening. But I will need someone else to put the pie in the oven for me after all.’  ‘I got-’ ‘I can do it.’  ‘Really, Robin? So, I’ll have to take care of two burns?’ Steve says, turning around with his hands on his hips.  ‘Oh, calm your tits mom, I can put a pie in the oven on my own you-’ ‘Both of you can shut up, I’ll put it in.’ Nancy says as she pops in and comes directly towards you and looks at your hand with a concerned look. ‘Are you okay?’  ‘Guys, it’s just a sheet that was a little too hot. I’ll live.’  Nancy nods but you know that she can see that you’re still shaking. She moves to the oven and Steve takes the opening to make his way back towards you.  ‘Do you have some ice? You should put some ice on it for the night.’  ‘Hey, Steven!’ Robin calls out a little too loudly and a little too sharply. And you make a mental note to send her a gift basket because now that the panic and the pain are subsiding, you really don’t want to feel his breath on your cheeks and his fingers moving your wrist so carefully, like you’re made of glass. ‘Would you be a darling and help me open a bottle of wine.’  ‘You’re a big girl, you can open a bottle of wine on your own.’ He quips back.  ‘Oh, now I can do things on my own?’  ‘It’s a bottle of wine not a piping hot oven, Buckley, there is a difference.’  They continue arguing but you can’t make it out anymore under the sound of running water and Nancy and your laughter.  ‘They are literal children.’  ‘It’s cute, really. I always wanted siblings.’ You confide in her. How can you not? Her blue eyes have this shade to them. A shade that sees right through you. A shade that tells you there’s no use in lying. Or hiding for that matter.  ‘Are you sure, you’re okay?’ She asks, quiet, sincere.  ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine. Had much worse.’ You smile at her and she doesn’t push. You’re thankful. 
You almost can’t believe it but the rest of the dinner goes by without any more accidents. You guys come close when Robin wants to cut into the pie but Steve takes the knife out of her hand.  Everyone wanted to help clean up but you swatted them away, insisting that you were the host and it was fine. You pack a box of leftovers for Argyle and he’s out the door. Nancy and Jonathan are the next, thanking you and even Jonathan shooting you a smile that tells you, he really did enjoy himself. By the time you close the door behind Steve and Robin, you almost forgot about the phone call. Almost.  Not even a minute passes when there’s a knock at your door again. You huff out a laugh. ‘I told you, dude, that’s all the cookies I have, there’s- oh, Steve.’ You’re stopped in your tracks. ‘I- did you leave something here?’  ‘Yeah, I,uh, can you check if my wallet is on the counter, for me?’ ‘Sure, come in, I’ll be just a sec.’ You check but there’s no wallet. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t find it! Are you sure it’s not in the car, or-’ When you arrive back he’s leaning over the small dresser next to the door.
‘Oh, shoot! You know what?’ He says, feigning a realization. ‘It was in my back pocket. So forgetful sometimes. Night, tough girl!’ You’re a little confused but that doesn’t keep you from quipping back.  ‘That nickname’s gonna stick, isn’t it?’ ‘Depends. Maybe I’ll think of something better.’ He says with a wink and turns on his heels.
After locking the door you glance down to the dresser. There’s a note on the block of Post-its you have there. 
I’m very used to spending nights on my own in an empty house. If something spooky happens again or you need some ‘tips and tricks’ just give me a call. 
There’s nobody there to see but you still feel like you have to hide your smile by trying to bite into your lower lip as you study his number.
Fucking hell. You really should’ve finished those goddamn buttons. 
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stvharrngton · 1 year
Note
💌; steve + a prompt [list 1 - nsfw] [list 2] [list 3] please specify which list!
2 from list 3 <3
thank you for requesting (again)!! hope you enjoy my sweet ivy<3
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: none, fluff, maybe a little angst? boyfriend steeb
prompt: they end the phone call with an accidental “love you”, leaving you flustered
taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby @sw34terw34ther @sweetbabygirlsworld
1k celebration
“So, I’ll pick you up at 7?” Steve spoke down the phone, the device balanced between his ear and shoulder, his fingers fidgeting with the slinky left on the counter at Family Video.
Robin rolled her eyes from his peripheral, a scowl shot Steve’s way as he was making plans with you once again when he should be working. Your faint voice heard from the receiver, Steve smiling to himself at whatever it was you said.
He made Robin sick.
“Alright, baby, I better go. Robin’s giving me the look.” It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes now, waving the younger girl’s disgruntled look away, “I’ll see you later, love you.”
It wasn’t until the phone clicked back into its receiver that the pin dropped. His eyes bugging out of his head, his mouth hanging agape as his cheeks flushed, “Oh, fuck.” He whispered.
Steve looked to Robin, who had the exact same look on her face, save for the smirk she was desperately trying to hide, “Did you just…?” She teased.
“I… yeah? I think— I think I did.” Steve stammered, hands running through his wild hair, eyes glued to the silent phone.
“Is Harrington in love?” Robin mused, a cheeky hint to her voice as she dragged out the latter word.
“Well, yeah, shit, I love her,” he rambled now, hands animated as he spoke, “I’m in love with her, but I didn’t exactly want the first time I told her to be over the phone, Robin!”
Steve groaned, head in his hands as his elbows propped himself up on the counter. His mind working overtime trying to figure a way out of this, a way that he could explain to you.
Robin clasped her hand on the back of Steve’s shoulder, rolling her eyes at his dramaticness, “You’re overreacting, Steve. Just talk to her! I’m sure she’d understand.”
Steve only groaned louder.
~
Meanwhile on the other end of the line, you sat on the edge of your bed a little dumbfounded. Brows pinched together as your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip.
You were sure you heard him right, the connection of your phone call crystal clear. Steve said love you like it was normal. Like it was a regular occurence in your conversations.
It was for Steve, only in his head, mind.
Sock clad feet paced the space of your bedroom, back and forth, back and forth. You tugged on the sleeves of your sweater for comfort. Had he meant to say it? You wondered. Was it a mistake? You thought.
You didn’t know what to think. Your thoughts jumbled and flustered. Taking a glance at your alarm clock on the nightstand, 15:04 it read. Great, only another four hours of this torture.
You knew Steve. You knew he was big on romance, an idyllic dreamer when it came to your relationship. He liked to do things big. Hell, for your first date he went all out by taking you for a picnic by the lake, complete with sparkling wine and strawberries and all your favourite foods. The first time you slept together he tossed rose petals all over his bed, your favourite record playing in the background as the candles he lit bathed you both in a warm glow.
There was no way the first time he said he loved you would be over the phone, would it?
You groaned as you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you dragged your hands down your face. You felt like you were in the middle of some teenage highschool drama but in reality you were just two lovesick young adults trying to navigate your relationship.
Of course, you loved Steve. You had known you were in love with him for so long now, the words often on the tip of your tongue when you were tangled beneath the sheets, when he brought you your coffee order and a breakfast sandwich on Sunday mornings, when he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
Seven o’clock soon rolled around, the purr of the BMW’s engine sounding outside your house. The doorbell rang soon after as you gingerly made your way to the door.
And there stood Steve, in your favourite blue sweater of his, a bunch of red roses in hand. Your resolve soon faded when you saw the look on his face.
Steve looked apologetic, features soft as his warm brown eyes blinked down at you, “Hey, baby,” he hushed, “I, uh— I got these for you.” He said, passing you the bunch of flowers.
Your lips tugged up into a soft smile, nose pressing into the flowers as you moved to go out them in a vase, “Thanks Steve, they’re so pretty.” You mumbled.
“You’re more pretty.”
Ah, yes. The signature Harrington Charm. You rolled your eyes with a giggle.
“More pretty?” You teased.
“Exactly.”
“Steve,” you started, eyes sheepish as you rubbed the soft petals between your finger and thumb. Refusing to beat around the bush, “what you said on the phone—“
“Baby,” the boy whined, taking your hands in his, “it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to—“
“So you didn’t mean it?” You pouted, big doe eyes staring up at him.
“What? No! Yes, I mean yes!” Steve fumbled, tongue twisting in his mouth, brain not conjuring the words he wanted to say, “Of course I meant it, baby, I’m head over heels in love with you.”
Steve’s hands came to caress your cheeks now, begging you to believe him, hoping you’d understand,
“You are?” You asked.
“Uh huh, totally and utterly in love with you,” he hushed you, his throat thick as his mouth dried up, “jus’ never meant for you to hear it over the phone for the first time, s’all.”
You smirked then, your arms snaking around Steve’s waist. Sure, you loved his big grand gestures most of the time, but this was fine too. Steve was yours and he loved you. Steve Harrington loved you.
You hummed, turning your head in his hands to press a kiss to his palm.
“I’m totally and utterly in love with you too, Steve.”
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wildbornsiren · 2 years
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Sweet | Rhett Abbott x F!Reader.
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Sweet.
Synopsis: Rhett Abbott drops by to help you repair some fences. He finds out exactly how sweet you are.
One shot 2,687 words. AFAB/Female reader.
Warning: EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. vaginal fingering, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex.
Notes:  Special love to @hederasgarden  (seriously, go read their fics. So goddamn good.)  and   @writercole  for the beta read.  Comments and reblogs are so appreciated. Likes are loved. Thank you so very much for reading. It means the most.
Tagging in: @a-reader-and-a-writer and @mayhem24-7forever​
Your mom had taken you in the divorce, moving far away from the wide-open spaces of Wyoming and ranch life. Your dad had left you the ranch when he passed and, wanting a break from the rush and press of city life you went home, much to your mother’s chagrin. It had taken a while to get into the groove of small-town life, and even longer to adjust to the open hospitality of those around you. It was the fact that things just happened rather than you having to seek out help.
Like now. Rhett Abbott had shown up on your doorstep that morning, the sun barely rising above the horizon. “Fence is down.” His voice was quiet, rough, full of sleep and grit. Intense blue eyes lifted to look you in the eye, then dropped again. “Figured you’d need a hand with it.” He turns slightly, head tipping out toward the pasture. “Don’t want any of your stock getting loose. Your old man’s ranch hands are shit.” He turns, clattering down the steps and climbing into the beat-up truck. The engine growls as he sets it in gear, driving further into your property.
It was the most the man had said to you. Sure, you’d seen him around town—everyone knew Rhett, and many of the older women had warned you away from him—especially since you hadn’t been around him since you were kids.
There was something that drew you toward him, though and it was impossible not to run into him, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.  He’d be polite, saying hello, or tip his hat if you said anything to him. For the most part, he kept to himself.
A few hours have passed, and you can hear the ringing of a hammer striking nails when you step outside. In the distance there’s a pile of splintered wood heaped next to a pickup truck. You squint, shading your eyes from the sun, and you can see him, white shirt and dark hat standing out in contrast against the ever-stretching sea of dusty green.
The sun is warm and high in the sky as you clear the fence, walking across the field. You smooth the fabric of your t-shirt a little nervously with one hand. You’ve got a basket in the other, loaded down with sandwiches and a couple of bottles of water and beer. “You hungry?”
He looks up at you from where he’s kneeling on the ground, hammer in hand nails caught between his lips. The way his gaze rakes up and down your body, makes you shiver, an entirely different hunger creeping into his eyes. He nods, turning back to secure a loop of wire to the post. He gets to his feet, stripping his work gloves off and putting them on the fence post. His fingers brush against yours when he takes the offered water bottle, twisting the cap off. Half of it goes into his mouth, the other spilled over his hands, scrubbing them free of dust. He’s flushed from exertion, shirt sweat soaked and clinging to his wiry frame.
“Thanks.” You look at the fence that he’s repairing. A storm a few days ago had brought it down, and you hadn’t had the first idea of where to start to fix it.
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “It’s nothin’.” He walks toward his truck, and you find yourself following. He takes the basket from you, his hands settling on your waist. He lifts you easily, the muscles in his arms cording. He sets you on the tailgate next to the basket and hops up next to you. The way he manhandles you keeps any further questions at bay.
“Don’t like eatin’ alone.” He grumbles leg pressed against yours, heat washing over you.
“Food is meant to be shared,” you shrug as you hand him a sandwich, and an open beer.
He taps his beer bottle against yours, “Fair enough.”
The silence isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. It’s easy and natural, like breathing. He keeps his leg pressed against yours as the two of you eat in silence. He finishes one sandwich quickly, licking crumbs from his thumb before he’s reaching for another one.
“Thanks.” He murmurs, knocking back half of his beer in one go. “Appreciate it.”
“I get the feeling you wouldn’t stop unless you had a reason to. So, I’m giving you a reason.”
His lips twitch up into a small smile, and your heart nearly stops. It changes his face completely, and fades slowly. “You’re sweet.”
“You’re helping me out. It’s only fair.”
“Like I said, your old man’s ranch hands are shit. They’d either not do it or do a crap job.”
“Do you want me to help?” You want to offer, though you’re not sure what you could do other than hold nails.
He takes one of your hands, turning it back and forth in his own, and inspecting it. The slow glide of his rough thumb on the back of your hand makes you shiver. “I got it. Your hands are too nice to get messed up.” He lets go, and you bring your arm back down, hand resting on his thigh. You can feel the muscle shift under the touch, and the subtle flex of his jaw.
“I have no idea what I’m doing here.” You sigh quietly as you look down at your hands, chewing your lower lip.
He's quiet, eating the second sandwich slower than the first. “You’ll figure it out. Plenty people around to help. They liked your old man.” He’s looking out onto the field in front of you. “Where’d you and your momma land?”
“Seattle,” you say. “Mom was having an affair with a tech guy. Moved us out there, got married. She ended up leaving him and taking half of everything.”
“She sounds like a real peach,” Rhett says with a roll of his eyes.
“When Daddy died, she wanted me to sell this place. I mean I probably will, because I’m not a rancher. I can barely tell you the different cuts of meat when they’re labeled at the grocery store.” He snorts softly and that small smile makes another appearance. “It didn’t feel right just handing it off to someone. I wanted to see it for myself.”
“Not a rancher, what are you then?”
“A literature teacher at a private school. My days are spent dissecting the classics and reading plagiarized essays.” You lean back reclining a little bit in the truck bed. Your hand burns from where it had landed on Rhett’s thigh, and you could still feel the pressure of his thumb against your skin.
“Do you like it?” Rhett asked, fidgeting next to you. 
“It’s a job, I liked it more when I first started. It’s more about making sure the top tier kids get shining grades and look good on paper than teaching.”
“When you got money, nothing else really matters does it?” He gets down from the truck, offering you his hand. “Come on, I got more to do before I lose the light.” He pulls you down, his other hand supporting you, bringing you flush with his body.
“Go on then.” He releases you, and it’s as if the oxygen comes flooding back all at once. You leave the drinks in the shade of his tailgate and head back up to the house.
You look up at him, his brilliant blue eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. He’s got a cut on his nose, a split lip, tanned from working in the sun. He’s hot, the warmth searing your skin, you can feel every ounce of strength barely contained in lean muscles and well-fitting denim. Your heart skips a beat, and those hungry eyes follow the path of your tongue against your lower lip.
“I’ve got dinner cooking. If you want. Later.” You manage to get the words out, your throat so dry, feeling your body curve against his naturally.
Hours pass and you lose yourself going through various boxes your dad had packed away over the years. You had paused long enough to put a roast in the oven, the house starting to smell wonderful. Even if Rhett didn’t join you, there would be enough that you wouldn’t have to worry about cooking for a few days.  A peal of thunder makes you jump, dropping the stack of books in your hand. A quick glance out the window confirms that the sky is dark and angry, rain beating against the window. You almost don’t hear the doorbell, but something tells you to check the door.
Rhett is leaning against the doorframe, water dripping from the brim of his hat. “Truck won’t turn over. Can I come in?”
You nod, stepping aside so he can come in. He hangs his hat by the door, fingers carding through his hair pushing it away from his eyes. “Shower’s upstairs. If you want to get cleaned up, I can put your stuff in the dryer.”
“You gonna give me a hand?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, one that makes you clench your thighs, knees feeling weak.
You exhale, steadying yourself as you step toward him. Your hands move on their own accord, yanking the heavy cloth of his shirt, tugging it free of the waistband of his jeans. Snaps pop open, and he only helps to twist out of it. He leans down, mouth closing over yours when your fingers slip under the hem of his white undershirt. He’s all hard planes and angles, abdominal muscles jumping under your touch. His hands are on your hips, and your back hits the wall.
Rhett’s braced over you grip tight on your hip as his other hand sneaks under your top. “Been wantin’ to get my hands on you all day.” The scruff on his jaw scrapes against your skin and you can’t stop the soft moan that spills out. “Coming out there with that little basket and a tight shirt. Barely touching me, driving me crazy.”
You manage to get his shirt up and over his head, fingertips exploring his chest and torso, carefully avoiding bruises and scrapes from his last round of rides. Fingers find purchase on his belt buckle, opening it, using it to pull him flush against you.
He grunts, catching both of your hands with one of his. He brings your arms up over your head, pinning them to the wall. Your jeans are unbuttoned, a rough hand sliding under the fabric, fingers pushing the edges of your panties aside, teasing at your slit. “Ladies first,” he mutters, mouth hot on your neck as those calloused fingers rub teasingly. He moans against your neck raggedly when he sinks his fingers into your pussy, body tight around him.
You had been throbbing since he hoisted you into the bed of his truck, and nothing would soothe the ache—no matter how hard you had tried. You had brought yourself close, whimpering and begging, your fingers diving into your pussy, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The stretch and unrelenting pace of Rhett’s fingers, however? Had you spiraling and soaring, hands clutching into fists and releasing over and over desperate to touch him. “Rhett…” Your head hits the wall behind you, arching against him desperate to feel more of him.
“Come on girl, you feel so good.” His low, gravelly voice had you biting your lip and grinding against his hand. His thumb traced tight circles on your clit, still fucking two fingers into you. His weight presses against you, the scruff on his jaw scraping against your cheek “What’s the matter? City boys too afraid to get their hands wet?” he teases as he tightens his hand around your wrists.
He smells like sweat, leather and dirt. Overwhelming you with his body alone, fingers curling and pressing just right. You’re caught breathless, whimpering and crying out for him as you come. Rhett continues to fuck his fingers over that spot, pleasure wracking you until your toes are curled and you’re writhing against the wall.  He keeps you upright as he eases his fingers from you.
“You really are sweet,” he says as he licks your release off his fingers, maintaining eye contact with you as he does.
Then he's leading you by the shirt, practically tossing you behind him, bending you over the arm of the couch. You stretch a little bit, feeling him adjust your hips, tugging your pants and panties out of the way. Warm hands smooth over your ass, as his knee parts your legs. You can hear the rasp of his zipper, his low groan as he palms his cock. He’s thick, splitting you open as he presses in. There are a few seconds of adjustment, and you can feel the tremor that runs through him when he bottoms out. His fingers flex against your hips, before he’s drawing you back and thrusting into you.
You grip the couch cushion, holding on as he pounds into you, each stroke of his cock setting you on the path toward coming again. The jingle of his belt buckle echoes in your ears as his pace quickens, hand skimming up your back, into your hair. Fingers knot in it, tugging your head back, using your hair as leverage as you ride back against his cock. You catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder. His head is tipped back, eyes closed, lips parted as he loses himself in you. It’s hard and fast, taking, rutting against you. Primal, raw fucking, your voice cracking as he hits that spot again and again, with the full weight of his thrusts.
“That’s it, take it darlin’.” He pants hard, grunting as he pistons into you, his fingers bruising your hips.
Your legs give out, collapsing against the couch, unable to support yourself. This only drives his hips into you harder, rough and wet. You tip over the edge again, biting the palm of your hand as you come hard. You can feel Rhett twitch, his thrusts faltering slightly.
He comes on the heels of your second orgasm, buried inside you. His weight drops on top of you, still fucking into you as he fills your cunt with cum. Eventually, he slows, panting, hands tight on your hips holding you still. “Good girl,” He mutters as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “So good.” He pulls out of you slowly, drawing a needy sound from your chest. A soft, masculine chuckle comes from behind you, his fingers brushing up your thighs, pressing his cum back inside of you. He slides your panties back up your legs, and you can hear him fixing his jeans. His hands slide around to your front, pulling you up, letting you lean back against his chest.
“Holy shit,” you mutter. His hand circles your neck, fingers spreading to rest on your jaw. “I don’t know what I should thank you for. The fence or your cock.” Another kiss lands on your shoulder with a soft snort of laughter.
“Fence isn’t done yet.” His voice is hoarse and well fucked and it sends shivers down your spine. He’s pulling away from you, though a hand remains keeping you steady if your legs give you. “Come on,” He’s tipping his head toward the stairs. “Get you cleaned up. Can’t eat when I know you’re leaking my cum.” He's got a hold of your hand and electricity sparks through you when his chapped lips brush your knuckles.
“You’re staying for dinner?”
“Can’t go to bed just with something sweet on my tongue,” he says with a smirk as he leads you up the stairs. You shake your head, finding yourself grinning despite the ache already settling in.
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zoquetejoel · 6 months
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Popeyes Chiken sandwi ch.. ,
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luna-alatus · 1 year
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ᕼEᗩᗪᑕᗩᑎᑎOᑎ
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----------------------- Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs Prompt: "Grill me a cheese." "I AM NOT GRILLING YOU A CHEESE-!!" Characters: Dazai Osamu Headcanon: Canon AU, After work things, Friends to lovers..?~ + non-binary reader Small note: Yeah its been a while huh.. missed me? Welp, as a sorry present here ya go~ -Art/Header not mine. PS- I was writin a book on wattpad so I couldn't write much here sorry.. ----------------------- It was the end of the day, finally.. after a long, and hard working day in the Agency. (Y/n) was finally able to go back home, rest up.. and enjoy their relaxation time after their hard work. They were glad though, cause despite the fact doing paperwork was boring as heck sometimes and it does cause their hands to hurt after a while. It was worth it, since now they had an off day tomorrow! Well, it was now definitely worth the pain of having to finish paperwork now. Saying their farewells to the rest of the Agency members, those being Atsushi, Kunikida, Ranpo and Yosano. As the Tanizaki siblings were out and a certain suicidal maniac was no where to be found.. (Y/n) didn't bother to try saying goodbye to them anymore. Besides, the others would inform them in their place. And well for Osamu Dazai's case- the suicidal maniac, well.. they had a gut feeling they were once again trying to commit suicide so- they'll definitely be fine. Sighing softly at the thought of their work partner, the (h/c) agency member merely shook their head and continued their walk back home. Speaking of which.. maybe they should just use their ability.. Ah no, probably not. They're tired anyways. Besides, it was only a few more blocks away from where they were at currently, might as well use the exercise. Anyways, they're ability would slightly alert the normal civilians around them too- so better stay discreet and keep walking. And so they did, granted once they arrived at their apartment they were exhausted, still the exercise was somewhat appreciated. -------- (Y/n) just finished their quick bath, and had already gotten changed in comfortable clothing. It was already like, the late evening or something and well, they were m ore than ready to head to bed. But, they were a bit hungry and they haven't had dinner anyways so. Might as well make a little something, and so they did. It was a simple dish, just some warm noodles, soup, and rice. It was very tasty though despite it being quite simple. After the nice dinner, they had gotten the kitchen cleaned up and made sure everything was back to where they were supposed to be placed. Once that was over with, (Y/n) closed the lights that were on and headed up to their room. Shutting the door behind them and getting in their futon, wearing their socks, and warm jacket first before they got themselves tucked in under the soft blanket. And with that.. their day finally comes to an end. And they fall asleep slowly but surely. .
.
.
.
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. It was a calm night, truly it was. And well the (h/c) ability user was already in quite the deep sleep. Sadly, a certain suicidal maniac had decided to sneak into their home late at night, using the spare key given to them for EMERGENCY purposes only. Ah well.. it was the Dazai Osamu, what else could you expect from them. As the male made himself at home in their friends home, he had gotten himself his pair of slippers that he'd always wear in here. And looked around the dark home, humming softly as he looked around some more. It seemed like (Y/n) was already asleep.. that can't be, he hasn't even eaten anything yet. Plus, he wants a grilled cheese sandwich. Hm, it was too bad the suicide attempt he tried committing today took him too long to actually get out of once it failed. Ah well.. (Y/n) wouldn't mind!! They loved him for crying out loud! So with that said, and with the decision made. The bandaged-detective went upstairs to head to his friends room to wake up the poor sleeping and unsuspecting victim of his want of a grilled cheese sandwich. -------------- (Y/n) was asleep, oh so soundly asleep.. that was before they were quickly shook awake and tackled down by their bandaged co-worker. "(Y/n)! (Y/n)!!!!!!!!!! (Y/N)!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on wake up please please please!!!!!! I am hungryy!!!!" Dazai continued shaking the poor soul 'till they fully woke up. And with a groan and annoyed sigh from (Y/n) they had glanced at the male who was clinging onto their torso like their life depended on it. "Alright.. alright, alright!!! I am up you idiot! What do you want-?! And fucking get rid of that coat! For crying out loud you smell like a-!" "Cheese." A pause was heard, before (Y/n) who was now fully awake after what they just heard come out of Dazai's mouth.
"Huh..?" "Grill me a cheese." Oh.. so that's what they meant, tch, they had the audacity to wake them up and ask for a grilled cheese sandwich.. in the middle of the night, seriously??!?! "I am not grilling you a cheese." Another pause, honestly (Y/n) hoped they had gotten the hint and was already slowly falling back asleep.. finding their arms to wrapped around their torso to be quite comfortable and warm. Before crying and sobs were heard.. seriously.. this was a grown man. "B-but.. Mmph..." More sad noises. "Wh-..." (Y/n) blinked, seriously.. they had a man child for a co-worker. Then again.. they have been caring for this man child for who knows how long now so, well they were definitely more than used to it by now. "Oh for god's sake." ------------------------ The lights in the kitchen were turned on once again, and sizzling of something cooking on the pan above the stove could be heard. (Y/n) was once again being hugged by the bandaged man child who had asked for the grilled cheese. Their head on top and leaning over on their shoulder as they leaned their head slightly back as they watched the grilled cheese sandwich cook. Dazai's arms were wrapped around their waist tightly, and well, they were smiling happily at both the fact they were hugging (Y/n) and the fact he was finally getting his grilled cheese. "Thank you~ Hm.. you know I love you right (Y/n)?" "I know that bandages, known that since I met you." Smiling at the thought, the male kissed the side of their forehead gently nuzzling their head in between (Y/n)'s neck and shoulder. "Good.. I just wanted to say thank you I suppose, for dealing with me and how I am and all that." (Y/n) gently shut the stove as the now cooked grilled cheese sandwiches were finished and done cooking. Placing them on a plate and putting it on the counter before they responded to the male. "You're welcome, besides.. you deserve it anyways.. a person to care for you. People to care for you, people who you can call friends Osamu. But there is one thing, you aren't acting like your usual self.. you okay?" They had asked this because it was true, Dazai didn't usually act this soft unless something traumatic happened or, well something bad happened. So.. of course it was concerning whenever they acted out of character- not that the character they were showing was any better but.. yeah. "I am perfectly fine, just.. happy to be with you is all.. and thanks for the food. It smells great." (Y/n) merely felt Dazai's head nuzzle closer to them, and with their now free hand. They gently combed through the male's brown locks. "You're welcome." .
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"Right, Dazai?" "Hm..?" "Finish your sandwiches before they get cold will you." "Hehe..~ yes yes, on it." ______________________ Note: Thanks for reading~ And yes I got this from that 'grilled cheese' audio from titkok- Pft- hope ya enjoyed the fluff!
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