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#who’s keeping the what counter how many did we get this time
leasstories · 2 days
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We are just friends
Eddie Munson x best!friend reader
No trigger warnings
WC:  1.3K
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You and Eddie met during Eddie’s second senior year and your junior year. You met in detention where Eddie sat right next to you. That is how the two of you started talking. You realized that you had many interests in common. The teacher kept shushing you during the entirety of the detention hour but the two of you never stopped talking.
When you and Eddie left detention, Eddie puts his hand on your arm to get your attention, which works as you turn around.
“Yeah?” you ask, curious.
“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks.
“YES!” you answer, a little too loud for your liking.
“Is the pic-nick table behind the football field fine by you?” Eddie asks, bracing himself for a potential “no”.
“Yeah, sure” you answer.
On the short walk to the pic-nick table Eddie tells you all about his next D&D campaign.
You sit across from each other, and Eddie looks a little sad so you put your hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” you ask softly.
“Nothing is wrong per say. I really enjoy spending time with you, really. You are easy to talk t.” Eddie says.
You smile at his compliment before tilting your head to look at him in the eyes.
“But?” you ask.
“Uh?” Eddie answers, confusion etched on his face.
“There is a but, right? You ask before adding “I know we’ve never talked before today but I won’t judge you, you can trust me.”
“I don’t want to scare you off, because as you mentioned, we’ve never talked before today. But talking with you is so easy, I feel so comfortable.” Eddie sighs. “Talking with you reminded me talking to my best friend, Ronnie. She just left Hawkins for college and I, uh, I kinda miss her.”
“Eddie…” you coo. “You are allowed to miss her. I won’t replace her and that’s not what I want anyways. But I can be there for you. I want to be there for you.” You tell him.
Eddie surprises you when he jumps from the bench and throws himself at you, engulfing you in a bear hug.
--
After the day you met, Eddie and you kept getting closer. You both want to spend every waking moment together.
You became attached at the hip really quickly and anyone who doesn’t know you think that you’ve known each other your whole lives. You and Eddie are both touchy people. You always touch, hand holding, hugs, you name it.  Which led to the current conversation with your friend Nancy Wheeler.
“So you and Eddie are a thing?” she asks casually.
At her words, you choke on your own saliva before bursting out laughing.
“What?” Nancy asks.
“Sorry, sorry!” you say, still laughing. “Eddie and I are friends! Best friends at most.” You tell her.
“You don’t have feelings for him?” she asks suspiciously.
“Only platonic ones!” you say putting your hands up in surrender.
“But the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other!” she protests.
You shrug. “I guess we are both touchy people.”
--
Little did you know that Eddie is having the same conversation with his bandmates.
“Eddie, come on! You know that you can tell us everything!” Jeff pesters him.
“We are not a thing. They are like, my best friend.” Eddie says casually.
Gareth groans, always the jealous one.
“You jealous Gareth?” Eddie asks, smirking.
“No! Nothing to be jealous of.” Gareth answers crossing his arms over his chest.
Jeff clears his throat. “Eddie, you and they are literally attached at the hip! And you are always touching each other!”
Eddie shrugs. “Guess we both are touchy people.”
--
You knock on Eddie’s trailer door. You both decided to spend your Saturday together, hanging out at his place. Eddie opens the door, squinting his eyes. You suspect that he just woke up. He lets you in and walk towards the counter.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“You read my mind!” you exclaim.
Eddie pours two cups of black coffee and hands one out to you. You gladly take it and sit on a stool.
“So,” Eddie starts.
“So?”, you ask, mimicking him.
“The guys and I are going to play an original Corroded Coffin song, wanna come see us play?”
“YES!” you exclaim. “But first I want a sneak peak. You know, to know if it worth it.” You say, smirking.
Eddie chuckles at that. “Consider it done!
You both finish your coffees and head to Eddie’s bedroom.
Eddie takes Sweetheart, his guitar, out of its stand while you plop down on Eddie’s bed. He sists crisscross at the feet of the bed while you lay on your side.
Eddie plays you the instrumental of the beginning of the song and smiles at himself when he sees you head banging.
He stops and nervously look at you. “What did ya think?” he asks.
“That’s so good Eddie! I can’t wait to hear the lyric and see you on the shitty Hideout stage. You should record this on tape, seriously.”
Eddie laugh. “You haven’t heard the whole song yet!” he says, tackling you on the bed and tickling you.
You laugh. “Stop it, Eddie!”
At the same time, Wayne comes back from his shift, he comes into Eddie’s bedroom and greet the both of you before saying.
“Quiet down lovebirds, I am going to bed.”
Eddie and you both look at Wayne in shock, you part and say at the same time.
“We are just friends!”
“Best friends even.” Eddie adds.
“Whatever you say.” Wayne says, waving his hand and retreating in the bedroom.
Eddie drags his hand down his face exasperated when you say.
“Why does everyone thinks we are dating!” you say, throwing your hands in the air.
“Everyone?” Eddie asks.
“Nancy asked me if we were dating.” You confess.
“Wait, Jeff asked me the same thing.” Eddie says sighing.
“Is it too hard to understand that we are touchy people…” you say sighing as well.
“Don’t know, people always assume that if you are too close, you are dating.” Eddie says.
“Did people think you were dating Ronnie. Eddie blushes at that, remembering how he almost messed his friendship with her up for a stupid crush.
“Nope.” He says popping the “p”.
“Why are you blushing? Wait- did you date Ronnie?” you ask.
“No and why I’m blushing is a story for another time Sweets.” Eddie says brushing the topic off?
“But I wanna know!” you whine.
“People thought we were siblings.” Eddie continues, ignoring your pleas.
“Were you touchy?” you ask.
“Yeah, but not the way I am with you.” Eddie confesses.
“What’s different?” you ask.
“Even if I consider the two of you my best friends, they are two completely different friendships. I consider you like my little sibling, hence why I am touchy and protective. Ronnie, she was more like one of the guys you know. She was taller than me, and tough. Doesn’t need protection.” Eddie shrugs.
“Edward, are you saying I need protection?” you ask.
“Maybe. But not in a bad way. Like a brotherly love and protection.” He answers seriously.
You giggle and kiss Eddie on the cheek. “Love you!” You speak.
“Love you too!” he says patting your back.
“So now we are officially non-related siblings?” you ask.
“Guess we could say that.” Eddie answers, smiling.
And yeah, people keep assuming you and Eddie are dating but you both know it is not the case. You and him are just best friends. Non blood related siblings who loves each other, banter a lot and love hugging and being close to each other. You both love each other really deeply but it is not romantic love, it is platonic with a capital P. It took some time for Wayne as well as your family to understand but they finally stopped pestering you with that.
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Ok but have you considered WOULDNT you like a taste of the power wouldn’t you like to use more than words deep in the night the fight lasts for hours you can BE HURT. or you can BEAT HER WOULDNT you like to have some of the magic wouldn’t you like your outcome preferred deep in the night the fight can be tragic I’ll help you CONQUER HER
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supercantaloupe · 12 days
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there is no possible way to communicate to my fucking roommates that they're not doing their share of the chores in this house without them ignoring or hating me and i feel like i'm going Insane
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triptuckers · 5 months
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keep the nightmares away - percy jackson
Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!
you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.
everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.
'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'
percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.
'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'
'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'
'thank the gods.' you mutter.
you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.
you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.
you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.
'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.
if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.
when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.
after a few minutes she returns with two keys.
'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.
'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'
you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.
'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'
'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.
you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.
'sorry.' you mutter.
'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.
'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'
yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.
you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.
'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.
you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.
'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.
you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.
'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.
you sigh. 'fine.'
'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'
'thanks, perce.'
percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.
he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.
when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.
he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.
'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.
'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'
you frown. 'first shift?'
'sleeping in the bed.'
'where will you sleep?'
'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'
you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.
sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.
percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.
'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.
'alright.' says percy.
there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.
'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'
'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.
you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.
'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'
'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.
it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?
after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.
he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.
but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.
it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.
'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?
but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.
he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.
but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.
you're having a nightmare.
a bad one, by the looks of it.
gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.
'hey, wake up.'
in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.
you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.
'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.
his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.
'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.
'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.
'no I'm fine.'
'talking mostly helps me.'
you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.
'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'
'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.
'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.
'shit, I'm sorry.'
'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'
'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'
'yeah, I can try.'
the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.
'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.
'yeah?'
'is it okay if I...?'
wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.
'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.
'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.
you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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rileyslibrary · 29 days
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The elderly lady who owns the convenience store in Simon’s neighbourhood needs help with a faulty fridge. You tag along with Simon and discover more about him than you ever expected.
A/N: Fluff. Cosy read.
———————————————————————
“It’s right there,” Simon says, pointing down the street. “Just need to take care of something quickly.”
You follow his outstretched arm to a convenience store nestled on the corner. Furrowing your brows, you glance back at the street you had just walked down, spotting Simon’s house. It’s very close, you think to yourself. Maybe a three-minute walk away.
That’s weird. You’ve taken that same road to and from Simon’s house many times, yet this is the first time you’ve noticed the store.
Turning your attention back, you look closer at your destination. No wonder you never paid much attention to it. The store seems old and rather inconspicuous, blending into its surroundings seamlessly. Everything is understated, from the building to its decor—if you could even call it that. To the left of the entrance, there’s a stand of old magazines, and on the right, a table with two chairs catches your eye. You glance up at the sign above the entrance.
“Mary Mart,” you read aloud.
“That’s right,” Simon confirms, opening the door and triggering a bell to jingle. “Mary should be inside.”
He holds the door open for you, yet his gaze remains fixed on something inside the store. You step in and follow his line of sight to a lady holding a newspaper up to her face. That must be Mary, you presume.
“You alright, Mary?” Simon asks softly.
Yup, that’s definitely her. The newspaper covers most of Mary’s petite frame as she sits behind the counter. She seems so absorbed by her reading that she didn’t hear you come in.
Simon sighs and shakes his head. He gently taps the back of the newspaper to get her attention. Mary lowers the paper to her nose, and her face lights up immediately at the sight of Simon.
“Didn’t see you there!” Mary shouts, lowering the newspaper to the counter. “You alright, my dear?”
“Yes, Mary,” he murmurs, “neither did you see nor hear us.”
“What?” Mary asks, letting go of the newspaper and cupping her ear.
Simon taps his own ear, indicating that Mary needs to adjust her earpiece. Mary’s eyes widen, and she quickly follows Simon’s lead, turning her earpiece on. She gives him a nod.
“Better now?” Simon asks.
“Much, much better,” Mary confirms, then turns to you with a broader smile. “And who do we have here?”
You politely nod, introducing yourself to Mary, but Simon interjects before you say much.
“So tell me, Mary,” He says, glancing towards the back of the store where the fridges are, “which one’s acting up?”
“Oh, I can’t remember, dear, but it’s hard to miss it,” Mary replies, sighing. “It’s the one with the towels underneath. Keeps dripping water.”
Simon nods, his gaze still focused on the fridges. He begins heading towards the back of the store, and you instinctively follow behind him.
“How lovely of you, Simon,” Mary’s voice sounds from behind you. “Bringing me some company while you take care of that fridge.”
You stop in your tracks, and Simon does, too. Point taken, Mary. You glance towards Simon, and he gives you a nod.
“She’s harmless,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. “And a pretty nice lady.”
“Don’t be long.” You whisper back. “We still need to go get some breakfast.”
Simon nods and continues to the back of the store. With a sigh, you return to the counter where Mary is and settle into a nearby chair.
“Anything newsworthy?” You ask.
“Nothing much, dear,” Mary replies, adjusting her newspaper. “The weather’s terrible, the economy’s getting worse, and people won’t stop killing each other.”
“Oh...” you murmur, “yeah, that’s bad.”
“Well, at least Boots has 20% off on all moisturizers,” she announces, slightly more enthusiastically than one might expect for moisturizers. She picks a pair of scissors from under the counter and starts snipping the voucher.
With Mary on a mission to get that 20% off of that newspaper, you take the opportunity to peek at Simon. He’s kneeling in front of the fridge at the back of the store, focused on the appliance. Occasionally, his brow slightly furrows as he inspects the faulty machine. Then he pauses, nods, and grabs tools or shifts his position to get a better look at it. You, on the other hand, have no idea what he’s doing, nor do you care. You are hungry and caffeine-deprived. You’re pretty sure Simon feels the same way.
Meanwhile, Mary has finished cutting through the voucher and returned to her reading. She often flips through the pages and snaps the newspaper to straighten it and remove wrinkles. Sometimes, she hums, acknowledging her current read. Other times, she clicks her tongue disapprovingly at whatever news she comes across.
And you? Well, you’re bored out of your mind, so you begin scanning the shelves and displays, taking in the assortment of merchandise neatly arranged throughout the store. Your eyes briefly pause on various items—a stack of magazines, a display of snacks, a row of household essentials—before finally settling on an old photograph hanging behind Mary.
In the photograph, a young man wearing a military uniform stands confidently. He appears to be in his late twenties and sports a well-kept moustache. Rather than looking straight ahead, his gaze seems to be directed right behind you. He looks confident. Strong. He feels present, even if he’s not here.
“Handsome, huh?” Mary asks, peering over her glasses before turning towards the picture behind her. “That’s my Walter right there.”
You clear your throat and nod. “Very handsome indeed,” you confirm. “Is he your husband?”
“Was,” Mary corrects with a wistful smile, her eyes drifting back to you. “My very first and last one.”
“Which war?” you ask, gesturing towards his uniform.
“You mean which war he served in or which war he died in?”
“Both,” you shrug.
“Served in too many,” she says proudly, lowering her gaze to her newspaper. “But the war my Walter lost had no guns or weapons.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Mary looks up from her newspaper, meeting your eyes with a tilt of her head and a warm smile.
“Coffee?” she offers but doesn’t let you respond. She has already turned her back to you, brewing a fresh pot.
“No, thank you,” you reply. “We intend to grab some on our way to breakf-”
“I don’t think Simon will finish anytime soon, dear,” she interjects.
“Then yes, please,” you reply, then mouth a silent ‘shit’ to yourself so that Mary doesn’t hear you. You peek once more at the back of the store where Simon is.
“He’s handsome as well, isn’t he?” Mary states, with her back still turned towards you.
You blush at Mary’s observation and look down at the gum assortment in front of the counter. “Yes,” you agree, nodding with a smile. “Yes, he is.”
“Met at the base?” She asks, pouring you a cup of coffee.
“You know where we work?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It takes one to know one, dear,” she says, turning towards you and handing you a cup of coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” you reply. “So you also served in the military?”
Mary’s expression shifts, her face lighting up as she lifts her index finger.
“Serve!” she exclaims, “Silly me; I forgot to serve the biscuits!”
She retrieves a plate covered with tin foil from below the counter and uncovers it, pushing the platter towards you. You politely decline, thanking her for the offer. But Mary insists.
“I made them myself,” she tells you warmly.
“And I’m sure they taste lovely, but-”
“Take the biscuit,” Mary commands sternly, yet still smiling.
You look up at her, and without looking back at the plate, you take a biscuit. You don’t know which one you picked, what flavour it is, or if there are any allergens in it. Mary’s assertiveness is enough to make you pop it right into your mouth.
Her smile widens. “Good?” she asks.
The biscuit is indeed good. Very good. But even if it weren’t, you wouldn’t dare say otherwise—not only out of respect for Mary’s age but also because something tells you she might have more experience than the convenience store owner she portrays herself to be.
“They are amazing, Mary,” you reply and swallow.
“Simon likes those too,” she states proudly. “I often bring some over when I bake them.”
“So you live nearby?” You ask, swallowing another bite of the biscuit.
“I’m his landlord,” Mary reveals, nudging the plate of biscuits closer to you, “help yourself to another.”
You oblige and take another biscuit, and Mary continues once you take a bite.
“So,” she begins, blowing the steam off her coffee, “I’ve seen you plenty of times in my neighbourhood.”
“I, um,” you lift one shoulder and idly pick up a pack of chewing gum from the assortment in front of you. “I do come by often.”
“I know,” she replies, sipping her coffee. “You’ve been passing by my store a lot lately.”
You subtly turn your head towards Simon’s direction, letting your hair fall to the side of your face to conceal your blushing cheeks from Mary’s view. Yet she doesn’t seem to let go.
“He’s a good lad,” Mary states. Always there when neighbours need him, ready to lend a hand.”
“Indeed, he’s very good with his hands.” You reply.
“You know best, my dear,” Mary remarks, smirking.
“I meant with fixing things!” You say, widening your eyes. “He’s good with his hands when it comes to fixing things!”
Mary chuckles knowingly. “He’s also quite popular with the ladies—both the single and the taken ones,” she continues.
“Oh, is he now?” You respond in a high-pitched voice, narrowing your eyes. You turn your body towards Mary, placing the chewing gum package back in its original position.
“Yes,” she confirms, leaning over the counter. “Simon never rejects the attention, being such a good-looking lad, but at the same time, he never reciprocates.”
“How do you know he doesn’t reciprocate?”
“Oh, you’d be impressed what people say in front of an old lady who, allegedly, forgets to switch her earpiece on.” She says, winking at you.
“So, women flirt with him, huh?”
Mary throws her head back and chuckles, flicking her wrist at you. “Oh please, my dear,” she says in between chuckles, “I would have practically done the same if I was fifty years younger and Walter wasn’t around.”
“And he doesn’t flirt back?” You ask.
“No, not really, but he used to be friendly with them.” She explains, tilting her head toward you. “And then something changed.”
You shift in your seat and lean forward. “What?” You ask, intrigued. “What changed?”
Mary leans closer, sliding the biscuit platter toward you.
“Mary, I should probably lay off the biscuits,” you say. “We’re supposed to be heading out for breakfast, remember?”
“Make it a brunch, dear, or whatever you young people call it nowadays,” she replies. “Simon won’t be fixing the fridge anytime soon.”
“How do you know?” you ask. “You just said he’s great at fixing things.”
“Not when there’s nothing wrong with the fridge in the first place.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, furrowing your brows.
“I detached the defrost drain to simulate water leakage,” she explains. “It’s an easy fix, but you can oversee it quite easily, especially when the fridge is as old as I am.”
“You tinkered with the fridge on purpose?” you ask, eyes wide with surprise. “Why?”
“Oh please,” she sighs, rolling her eyes, “I had to bring you both here somehow.”
You glance at the cookie platter. Understanding that you won’t get any more information from Mary unless you indulge, you grab another cookie and pop it into your mouth. Mary, the ‘insert-biscuit-here-to-continue’ lady, takes the cue and continues.
“And then, as I was saying, you began to visit more often,” she explains, glancing over at Simon. “And his reaction to all the attention shifted.”
“You need to elaborate a little bit more, Mary,” you press. “How exactly did it change?”
“Girlfriend!” she exclaims in a hushed tone, widening her eyes at you. “He says he has a girlfriend!”
You widen your eyes, just like her, and point at yourself. She nods and points back at you.
“And then there’s the toothbrush,” she continues. “He bought two! A green one and a pink one.”
“He gave me a pink toothbrush when I stayed over for the first time!” you whisper. “Said he’d bought it ages ago and forgotten about it!”
“He bought a pink toothbrush as a spare for himself?” She asks, and her eyes narrow. “Nonsense! It wasn’t too long ago, and I have the receipts.”
“You keep receipts for these things, Mary?”
“No, silly,” she shakes her head. “It’s for tax purposes.”
“Right, so, I’m the girlfriend apparently,” you murmur, massaging your temples. “But why are you telling me all this?”
“Simon isn’t much of a talker, dear,” Mary explains, her tone softening. “Not to mention the horrors he’s been through. Sometimes, you might even misunderstand him because of it. But I’ve known him for a long time. He’s like family to me. Sometimes, when words fail him, I feel the need to speak on his behalf.”
“So you’re looking out for him,” you conclude, slowly nodding.
“Like the child I never had,” Mary confirms with a warm smile, pouring another cup of coffee. “And I can see how much he cares about you. But he’s not always good at expressing it. That’s why I thought I’d give you a little hint.”
“Thank you, Mary,” you say. “I appreciate you looking out for us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she says, handing you the extra coffee. “Now, how about you go over there and tell Simon to take a break? You can use the chairs outside while I go and reattach the defrost drain to the fridge.”
“Sure thing,” you reply and grab the coffee. “I just have one more question.”
“Go ahead,” she says.
“If Simon asks me what we’ve been talking about, what should I tell him?”
“Tell him I was rambling about the weather, the economy, and the 20% voucher from Boots,” she suggests, winking. “You’re a smart girl; that’s why he picked you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
———————————————————————
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Note
more sunshine! gojo and grumpy!f reader pleaseeeeeeee I ship so hard
you got it baby
her rage keeps him going.
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summary: gojo satoru is trying to get his grumpy girlfriend's attention by flirting with another girl at a party. wrong move. pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader content warnings: jealousy, reader being a badass, gojo being madly in love, cursing, adult themes at the end, borderline toxic gojo satoru?
Masterlist
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"Baby."
"Baby."
"Baby."
"Sugarpie."
"Honeybunch-"
"Yes, Satoru?" You sigh, trying to finish the report you need to give Yaga. The frown deepens on your forehead as Satoru moves to sit in front of you, head leaning in, blocking your view of the paper completely.
"Sato-"
"Let's watch a movie." He blatantly says. "I'm bored."
You take a deep breath, pushing his head away. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Toru."
Recently Yaga has been giving you more reports to fix. It's the kids' reports that are either too messy or filled with too many unnecessary details. It keeps on piling and piling and piling on top of your own work and you barely have time to do... anything, really.
And Satoru being Satoru, is not interested in paperwork. So you have to pick up his share as well, and it's sending you over the edge.
"Come on~" He whines, "It's been a while since you and I spend time together."
"We live under the same roof," You counter, "We go home and leave for work together every day."
He huffs, "It's not the same and you know it."
You sigh, promising him you'll watch something with him soon, but of course, you being busy, it gets forgotten. And it stays that way for a few days until the spring break party Jujutsu High decides to have.
You haven't properly talked to Satoru since then. You know he's upset that you've been so busy, but there's honestly not much you can do. You can only hope he understands and he'll be a bit more patient until things die down at work.
But of course, it doesn't happen that way.
You have to attend the spring break party just as Satoru is also required to. There aren't many people to begin with, but there are some new faces. New and pretty faces.
Stepping into the hall, you cringe at the sight. The higher ups are looking to create a new impression on the new students. It seems they want to look more approachable and 'trendy', seeing how the hard way didn't work so much with your and Satoru's generation.
It looks like a really bad frat party.
"What in the world..."
"Just drink." Shoko hands you a tequila shot while she downs one herself, "We've done more than enough these past few weeks, who cares what this party is about."
You drink the shot and cringe even more at the sharpness. "Oh God- this is horrible."
"It'll get the job done," Shoko chuckles, already downing her second shot.
Sighing, you scan the room to find Satoru. You figure with the spring break coming, you'll have more free time and you both can finally take a vacation together. As an apology for being so busy lately, you've bought tickets and you want to surprise him.
"Hey, have you seen Sato- Oh you've gotta be kidding me."
In your eyesight is Satoru talking very closely to a woman. She's not anyone you know, but from her body language, she's not anyone you want to know. Your eyes squint to assess the situation -- maybe you're overthinking this? Maybe she's just like Miwa, she just admires him- nope. That hand slowly trailing up and down Satoru's arm is not friendly at all.
And Satoru is allowing all of this?
"Shoko," You call her, "Let's go play darts."
"Uh-oh."
Satoru's doing it on purpose. He knows it will irritate you, and he knows technically he shouldn't be doing this, but you've been so busy lately and he's desperate for your attention.
Borderline toxic? Maybe, but again, he's desperate.
And it's not like he's interested in this girl who's talking to him about something she did the other day -- he can't even remember her name. But when he sees you shooting glares his way, a small smirk plays on his lips because he knows he's caught your eye.
He just didn't expect you to take it into such extreme measures.
One second you're sitting by the bar with Shoko, and suddenly there's a red dart that whooshed its way between Satoru and this girl. The dart is right in front of her eyes, almost scratching her nose.
"Oops," He hears the threat in your tone despite the smile on your face. "Looks like I missed my mark."
"By a mile..." Shoko mutters. The target board isn't even anywhere near where Satoru is standing.
You make your way to Satoru and the girl whose face has turned white. "I'll just take that-" you pull the red dart that's quite stuck in the wall, but not before sparing the girl a cold glare, "and if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a little talk with my boyfriend here."
Satoru lets you drag him by the arm outside. To be completely honest, he's quite turned on. Seeing your possessiveness over him, your rage, your jealousy, he wants all of it.
"Are you done acting up- mmp!"
Satoru pulls you to him, his hand keeping your neck in place so he can kiss you properly while also not letting you escape. He forces his tongue into your mouth, taking your breath away completely.
"Satoru-"
He shushes you, lifting you from the ground to sit on the bench, your legs straddling his waist while still making out with you.
"I'm not done talking-" You finally push him away with a pant. "What's gotten into you?!"
You notice something poking your ass and you slap his shoulder, "Are you seriously getting turned on right now?!"
"Mm, baby," He tries to kiss you again, "You know I love it when you yell at me."
You scoff and grab his chin roughly. "So you did all of that just because you wanted some attention?"
Satoru gulps.
"Are you really that needy, Satoru? Hm?" You tilt your head, peeling his blindfold off. "I guess I have been neglecting you and your needy cock for a while, huh?"
He nods helplessly.
"I guess it is partially my fault for leaving you unattended for so long," Your hand travels down to grab his cock through his pants. "But just so we're clear, Satoru... don't ever pull that shit again, understand?"
He moans and nods his head again.
"Good." You peck his lips, "You're mine. And I don't let anyone just touch what's mine."
Satoru could come right then and there.
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 11
“Robin can’t stay here like that again,” Jason said as he chopped up a cucumber. “If he wants to come back, we need to introduce them properly and Danny needs to be okay with it."
“I know,” Dick sighed. “He’s been getting better but him not listening to B when in cape is a real backslide.”
“That’s not…” Jason made a frustrated noise and put the knife down with a level of care that worried Dick. That worry grew when Jason purposefully stepped back from it to lean against the counter.
“Hood?”
“Kid knew that Robin was here,” Jason said, glaring down the faint leftover ring from a cup of last night’s hot chocolate. “Wing, Danny knew, and he was terrified.”
Dick stilled. He had just thought it was fear or someone else being in the apartment. “How?”
“Smelled him, apparently,” Jason said with a casual shrug that Dick didn’t believe for a moment. “Said that Robin reeked of death.”
“Well, fuck,” Dick said. “The Lazarus Pits?”
“Best as I can figure.”
Best as Jason could figure, but Jason was still bothered by something— something that wasn’t how Damian smelled to Danny.
Dick reached out to still Jason’s hand from where it was picking at the dried ring of coco. “Little wing… what did Danny say?”
It said a lot that Jason didn’t pull away.
“He was terrified because Robin smelled like death but hadn’t died.” Jason looked up to meet Dick’s eyes. A ring of green circled the blue. “He hadn’t died, not like us.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh fuck,” Dick said again. That was the sort of statement that deserved more cussing. He got up and started to pace. “Did you…?”
Jason shook his head. “No. Wasn’t the time, Danny was too freaked out about Robin’s presence. But fuck, Wing, the way he said it… like I should have already known that about him.”
“Like he knows it about you.”
“Yeah. Since he can smell it or sense it or whatever,” Jason said. He ran his hands through his hair, spreading the streak of white throughout the dark locks.
Dick’s eyes stuck on the movement.
“Wing?”
“You’re hair.”
“Who cares if I mess it up—”
“No, J— little wing, your white hair. Danny…” Dick swallowed around the taste of bile. “We know he should have black hair, but it’s all white. Jay, how many times did he die? How many times did they kill him?”
Jason pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, looking ill. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“Okay, it’s okay,” Dick said, immediately regretting upsetting Jason like that. He hated hurting his little brother, but Dick did need someone else on the same page as him. He needed someone else watching out for things. “We’ll get the story when Danny is ready. What matters right now is that he’s here and we’ll keep him safe.”
“We sure as fuck will,” Jason said, a growl rumbling under his voice.
“But we have to wait until he’s ready.”
“Yeah, got you.” Jason leaned back against the wall. His head thumped against it with a sound that made Dick wince.
“But I do think you’ll be the one he talks to,” Dick soothed.
Jason snorted. “Cause the dead stick together.”
“You’re not dead, Jaybird, and neither is Danny.”
“And we’ll keep him safe,” Jason echoed with a sigh.
Dick didn’t have any illusions that Jason’s version of keeping Danny safe wouldn’t include murder if it came to it, but Dick was sure he could play distraction for Bruce, Cass, and Duke if need be. Damian should be kept away too, he had been doing better. Dick groaned and gave in to laying his head down on the counter.
“What horrible thing did you realize now?” Jason asked.
“Just that I’ll need to go see the baby bat. We need to talk about last night and I should just spend more time with him and the other kids.”
“Yeah, that might be good. You should get some damn sleep too before you start trying to subsist on sugar. Don’t think I didn’t see that cereal you had B.B. buy,” Jason chastised.
“I thought Danny might like it!”
“Danny would have a sugar high for three days if he ate a spoonful,” Jason said and went back to chopping up the very healthy cucumber he had.
“Fine, then what are you making?”
“A quick pickle. We’ll have it with feta cheese and couscous. It will be good protein for Danny since we don’t have him eating meat yet,” Jason said.
Dick smiled back. “You know, if you ever get tired of stabbing people with knives, you could just become a personal chef.”
“Why, looking to hire one and solve your horrible eating habits? You should get a maid while you’re at it.”
“Little wing,” Dick whined, clutching at his chest. “That’s so mean! My place is looking great! You’d know that if you ever visited me.”
Jason glanced past Dick and smirked. “Kid, tell Wing he’s a liar.”
“Wing, you’re a liar,” Danny mumbled, the words broken up by a large yawn.
“It’s no fair using Danny against me while he’s still half asleep!” Dick turned away from Jason with a pout and held his arms open.
Looking far from awake, Danny basically stumbled into Dick’s arm. He rested his head against Dick’s shoulder and seemed half ready to fall back asleep right there. Dick didn’t even try to hold back a coo.
Jason snorted. “Yeah, you’re really suffering over there.”
Dick stuck his tongue at Jason before deciding to focus on his littler, cuter brother. He ran his hands through Danny’s hair, trying hard not to think about the color. “Did you have a good nap?”
Danny shrugged. “Mostly.”
“Yeah? And what does mostly mean in this case?” Dick asked.
“Just… I don’t know. Didn’t dream, not really, but sorta felt like I was close to dreaming.”
“I guess you don’t want to dream?”
“Don’t think they’ll be good,” Danny admitted, softly.
“Well, Dandelion,” Dick said, putting as much cheer into his words as he could, “if that happens you come find me or Hood or whoever’s here. Cuddling is always a good cure for nightmares and if that doesn��t work, hot chocolate is even better.”
When Danny didn’t respond, even nonverbally, Dick gave him a little poke in the side which made Danny squeak and squirm a little.
“Tell me what you’ve got rattling around in that brain of yours,” Dick prompted.
Danny heaved a sigh as he pulled away and sat on the stool next to Dick. He kept his eyes downcast, focused on the rather frayed cuff of the hoodie he had taken to almost constantly wearing. “I don’t want wake anyone else up if they’re sleeping. I know you guys haven’t been getting enough rest because of me…”
“Less than we’d like, maybe,” Jason said casually and Dick shot him a glare. They were supposed to be reassuring Danny!
“But,” Jason continued, “we’re fine with that if it means helping you get well. Besides, we’ll get B.B. over here maybe tomorrow and the big blue bird here can go check on the rest of his life for a bit.”
“But only if you’re okay with her being here,” Dick added.
“I don’t want to… you all have done so much for me already. Of course you can go deal with other things. It’s… you don’t have to pay attention to me.”
“Hey, Danny.” Dick reached out, clearly telegraphing his motions so that Danny could pull away if he wanted. When Danny didn’t even twitch, Dick rested his hand over Danny’s. “We want to. I promise you, we want to make sure you’re well and that you heal. We’ll be here the whole time until you’re ready to talk to Bruce.”
“Hell, we’ll be here after,” Jason said. “Gotham is our city, we’re not going anywhere. We’ll still be around if you need us, even if it’s just to be around us.”
Danny glanced up at at Jason with such blatant hope showing through from where it was shuttered behind hard learned lessons and a horrible life. Dick’s heart just about broke.
“Really?” It wasn’t more than a whisper that Danny asked, but it carried so much weight.
“Really,” Jason said with a shrug and that devil may care confidence that only he could manage.
“Really,” Dick added, trying to put as much care and love that he already felt for his new little brother into the word.
Danny glanced down again, but instead of going back to picking at the hem, he twisted his hand to wrap his fingers up with Dick’s.
“I… thank you. That’s… I don’t know why you all care so much when—” Danny cut himself off sharply, biting his lip so hard that Dick was worried that it would bleed.
Dick just squeezed his hand.
“Anyways,” Danny continued after a few shuddering breaths, “it means a lot, thank you.”
“Always,” Dick swore. This was their brother.
-
Damian’s brother was being annoying again.
This was hardly unusual.
“Grayson, do stop lurking like that. It is unbecoming.”
“I wasn’t lurking baby bat!” Grayson said, bouncing forward like some sort of overly cheerful ungulate.
“Tt.”
“I wasn’t! I was being polite and waiting for you to be done with your kata,” Grayson protested with a pout. “If I was being rude I would have just swept in and scooped you up.”
Damian took a step back. “Grayson, no.”
“No what?” he asked, his eyes impossibly wide and innocent.
It was best to leave, Damian decided.
Unfortunately Grayson was actually far more wolf that sheep and he pursued Damian. They tore around the Cave. Damian attempted to use his smaller stature to be able to slip through spots that should be impossible for Grayson to follow him through, but that hardly stopped his brother. What little speed Damian might have gained from his pathing was well made up for Grayson being larger and, as reluctant as Damian was to admit it, better at free running.
“There’s my baby bat!” Grayson cooed as he held Damian close after catching him.
Damian let his arms and legs dangle listlessly. He had learned that Grayson was annoying resistant to nerve strikes and that it was sometimes better to simple accept the… cuddling.
“My bitty bat! Baby bat! Bladed bloody bat!”
Damian sighed.
“We are going to go out!” Grayson said, hauling Damian towards the lift. “I found a shelter that needs some help socializing a whole bunch of cats taken from a hording situation so we’ll pick up a big food donation and head over. Afterwards, we can get falafel from that place on 8th and ice cream from a new place right down the street!”
That… didn’t sound too poor of a day, really.
“I suppose that the cats will have a better chance to be adopted if socialized quickly,” Damian said, haughtily. He couldn’t simply let Grayson know how appealing the idea was.
“Right? And you’re the best person I know for it,” Grayson said. Thankfully he set Damian down once they were in the lift and moving up towards the manor.
Damian stared at the rock on the the other side of the cage. “And… you do not need to go back to the safe house today?”
“Nope!” Grayson chirped. “I’m even going to stay at the manor tonight.”
“That is acceptable. You have informed Pennyworth?”
“Of course baby bat.”
“Very good,” Damian said. They fell into silence as they moved fully into the manor. Damian made his way for the stairs to go up and shower, but paused at the bottom. “Grayson?”
“Yeah, Dami?”
“He was afraid of me.”
Damian was thankful Grayson was astute enough not to ask who.
“He could sense you, it seems,” Grayson said. He walked over and leaned against the railing of the stairs. “Think of it from his point of view. He was asleep in what he had been told was a secure location and woke up to someone else being there. He didn’t know who, or what, you were. I’m sure you’d go on the offensive right away to find out who it was. Danny though… we know he’s been through a lot and I don’t think fighting back was an option for him.”
Damian thought back to the scars that had covered the other’s body in the first pictures. He frowned down at the steps. “Yes.”
“Right, so for him, he needed to find out who you were, just like you would, but he was scared instead of aggressive.”
“Which is why he hid behind Todd.” Damian had barely been able to catch sight of this ‘Danny’.
“Yep. Jason was one of the people who got him somewhere safe, so he trusts Jason to at least try to keep him safe. I’m sure Jay reassured him that was likely you before they came to check.”
Damian snorted.
“Hey, give Jason some credit, he knows his security stuff. He only pretends to still be bad at cellphones so he has a reason not to call.”
“Tt.”
“Don’t worry, baby bat, I’ll talk to Danny about having you come over again when everyone knows to expect you,” Grayson said with a gentleness that annoyed Damian.
“I never said I wished to go back over.”
“No?”
“No. But,” Damian said, stressing the next part, “if it is something everyone in the family is doing, then I will put up with the chore.”
“Thank you, Dami,” Grayson said. “Babs is next and then we’ll see about you! Now go change so that we can get to the shelter.”
“What exactly do you think I was doing,” Damian snapped and headed up the stairs with his head held high and a flutter of worry in his chest that he was pretending didn’t exist.
---
AN: Aaaah it was good to get back to writing this! This was my first time writing Damian's POV and he was an unexpected delight to write! His part got done very quickly. We'll have Babs up soon and Steph will need to bully her way in I'm sure. Bruce is pouting in front of the Batcomputer I'm sure, waiting for his turn to meet his son.
Anyways, stay delightful darlings!
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moonknightsonata · 4 months
Text
Acts of Service
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pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered
summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.
cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship
wc: 1199
a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.
When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.
Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.
Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.
Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.
Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.
Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.
He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.
Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.
You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.
You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.
“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.
“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”
“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.
“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.
“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”
“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.
“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”
Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.
Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.
“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”
Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.
He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.
“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.
“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”
Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”
As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.
You kept going with more examples.
“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.
“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.
“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”
“You take care of me because you love me.”
Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”
“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.
“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”
“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”
Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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bones4thecats · 2 months
Note
hello, I'm here again and as always you should know who my request is about, as the Tsum event came back my request will be relationship to this, Jamil and Leona dealing with the fact that their Tsums keep stealing all the attention, affection and love from their girlfriends, while Tsum doesn't care and does it on purpose to annoy
Tsum! Ver. Stealing Their S/O's Attention
Type of Writing: Request Characters: Jamil Viper and Leona Kingscholar Name: Tsum! Ver. Stealing Their S/O's Attention Requester: @marinahavik
A/N: Am I the only one who is absolutely adoring these cute tsums?! I actually have a Pluto one (the dog from Mickey Mouse) that I used to take everywhere when I was younger. He looks like this one. I really need to look for it... oh well. I do hope you enjoy this though!
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🐍 He wasn't very enthused when the Tsum! Kalim came into the mix and began to cause just as much chaos as his own original version of the white-haired boy
🐍 But, when he saw his own shaking it's head as it sat on the counter-top, watching Kalim and his Tsum run around with you laughing at their actions, he had to admit, it was kinda nice having these tiny things there
🐍 Now, because of how busy the day was supposed to be with many of the students having Tsums to take care of, Jamil was basically taking a day off, since your Tsum seemingly was working to hold Tsum! Kalim back
🐍 Though, while he knew where Kalim and your Tsums were, he had no idea where his was. Due to this, he was walking around Scarabia's halls to his room while keeping an eye open for his Tsum
🐍 By the time he had met his room, he could hear a small chuckle from behind the wood, so, when he opened it, he expected to see you with one of your fellow classmates
🐍 But, seeing his Tsum sitting in your hair, messing it around in a similar way that Jamil would do when you were being rambunctious. And once he saw you smile at the small creature like how you would at him made his heart ache
🐍 This must be what jealousy feels like
" Rohi, it's getting late. I recommend we start retiring for the night, besides, I believe your Tsum wants to see mine. " " Oh! I didn't realize it was that late! Apologies, your Tsum is just so cute and affectionate, like you! Except he can dig into my hair like a nest, it's so adorable to watch, look! He's doing it again! "
🐍 Jamil stood and watched as Tsum! Jamil dug itself into your hair and you took a small hat that Epel gave you from one of his lessons with Vil and you put it on the small being, much like a make-shift blanket
🐍 As you stared at the Tsum with adore, Jamil glared at the thing with malice. How dare it steal your attention and keep you up so late at night? You needed rest!
🐍 At least that's why he thought he was so moody...
" Rohi... we must rest, I have to wake up early tomorrow like normal. " " Ah, sorry Jamil. Where is my Tsum by the way? This little guy may need a guide because of his size. I don't want him getting trampled by accident. " " I'll bring him there myself, love. You get ready for bed. " " Okay MOM. " " Shut it or I won't let you mess with my hair. "
🐍 Holding the miniature version of him, he walked outside his room and towards the make-shift bed space that Kalim and you made earlier, and once he located your Tsum sitting awake and looking around for his, he smiled gently
🐍 You really did care about him in all worlds, didn't you?
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🦁 He was definitely far from happy when these tiny things came into Savanaclaw, though he did like how his understood the personal space thing he had, unlike yours
🦁 Though, it was technically another version of you, so he'd let it pass just this one thousand times
🦁 Because of the constant sounds of cooing coming from Ruggie to his Tsum, Leona quickly got annoyed once he heard other members of the Collage walking around while speaking to their other-worldly versions
🦁 He had walked back to his room and there he found you holding yours and his Tsums while wrapped in one of his blankets on his bed
🦁 While normally when he saw this he'd get fairly teasing and quippy, watching as you gave more attention to that cub version of him than to the larger one standing right at the doorway, the one who has been there with you for months instead of a measly few hours
🦁 Tapping his foot on the ground as his ears twitched and his tail swayed behind him, Leona gained impatient as you continued to ignore him
" Kipenzi, what are you doing? "
🦁 Looking up from the small version of your boyfriend and you, you smiled and looked at Leona with sparkling eyes
" Leona! I've been watching these little guys for the past few hours. Yours is just as sleeping as you are, isn't that funny? " " Considering we're basically the same person, not really. Now, can you scoot over so I can rest here? I can't stand the sounds of everyone cooing these things... " " Yeah, come on over! "
🦁 Pulling up the blanket for the beastman to crawl underneath, you held the seemingly cuddling duo in your hand as he settled and wrapped himself around you
🦁 He heard you set the Tsums down as you curled up into his arms and begin relaxing to partake in his nap with him
🦁 And once he knew you were asleep, he opened one eye and glared at Tsum! Leona, who glared just as hard right back
'That's right', they both thought, 'nobody hangs with my S/O but me.'
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nomadwrites · 3 months
Text
bubblegum pink ⋆˚✿
gojo satoru
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summary ⋆୨୧⋆ in which you've managed to convince the greatest jujutsu sorcerer of your time into getting pink highlights. what could go wrong? a lot, you learn.
contents ⋆୨୧⋆ spoilers!, pure fluff & rusty writing
notes ⋆୨୧⋆ let's start off easy, shall we? feedback is most certainly welcome & would be much appreciated! enjoy ₊˚ෆ
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"come on, it's only temporary!"
"not a chance! do you know how much time and effort i put into caring for these lustrous locks?"
"it'll grow out anyways," you huff, setting down the contents of the hair dye kit on the bathroom counter. "and here i thought you were the adventurous type."
"adventure is one thing, but this? this would be an act of vandalism," satoru feigns a look of betrayal, silver lashes framing his wide blue orbs, "like defacing the mona lisa."
you gasp in exaggeration, clasping a hand over your mouth. if there was one thing on the boy’s long list of things he loved about you, it'd be your ability to keep up with his personality.
"sure. but don't you get tired of always having the same old hairstyle? maybe it'd be nice to switch it up every now and then, yknow?"
"i hardly doubt anyone could ever get tired of this." he gestures to himself, standing tall, a smirk gracing his features.
“you’re insufferable.”
“and you love that about me.”
you do your best to hide the smile that threatens to break free, chewing on your bottom lip. “oh but you’d look absolutely gorgeous,” you plead, voice dripping with honey as you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the countertop. you bat your lashes at him, round doe eyes peering into sparkling azure pools.
the look you give him makes his heart do flips and his gaze softens ever so slightly. he can't say no to you, not when you're gazing up at him with those puppy-dog eyes of yours. you’re perfectly aware of the effect you have on him, but that’s not to say you’d ever take advantage of him. if anything, you’re just as smitten.
satoru adores gratifying you, answering to your every beck and call, no matter the request, even if they can be a little odd at times. who was he to deny you anything when you looked so entrancing?
he pretends to ponder, drumming his fingers along the cool ceramic of the sink counter. if you're quiet enough, you might hear the way the gears in his head shift as he puts on a show of overtly dramatised deliberation. it almost makes you snort, but after a minute or two of silence, he caves in, shoulders slumping.
"if it makes you happy," he breathes, flicking his gaze back to you as you perk up with excitement, light practically radiating off of you. he might come to regret this in a few hours, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with a radiance that seems so pure, he thinks it won’t be so bad. after all, it is only temporary.
"just so i get to hear it again," he pauses, slender fingers intertwining with yours as he guides you over to him and plops down onto the closed seat of the toilet, long legs splayed on either side of you. "you think i'm gorgeous?"
“not quite yet,” you say, running your fingers through his silver locks, admiring the soft lavender undertones. his glasses are sitting just above the tip of his nose, brilliant sapphire depths on full display. no matter how many times you’ve looked him in the eye,, it always manages to knock the air out of your lungs. “i’ll see what i can do.”
“aren’t you a sweetheart?”
“i am.”
he exhales, humming in agreement as he relaxes under your touch and relishes in the scent of your skin, not the fragrance of perfume or shampoo, but you.
this is nice, you think. free time has always been hard to come by, even more so for gojo than you. things had changed after the star plasma vessel incident. he had changed, and although he did his best to hide it, you knew better. you were there to ground him, to remind him of his humanity and his purpose for becoming a sorcerer. you were there to keep him afloat.
"so!" you clap, startling him enough to knock his glasses askew, "let's get started!"
"booo," he pouts, like some child. he likes to think you're like this because of him, that you've spent so much time with him you've essentially become a miniature satoru gojo. the thought of it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something he really only feels with you, despite how popular he is with people.
you get to work, skimming through the pamphlet of instructions. satoru attempts to help you, mostly by staring whilst seated on the toilet, questioning if you really knew what you were doing. you stick out your tongue at him as did he, tugging on his lower eyelid.
you manage to end up with a bowl of bright pink sludge, the scent of chemicals wafting through the enclosed space of your bathroom. satoru grimaces, both at the smell and how awfully pigmented the dye seemed, cautiously eyeing the mixture held between your gloved hands.
“no turning back now.”
“you’re sure this is temporary?”
“mhmm!” you say, throwing a towel over his shoulders to shield his black linen shirt from any stray drops of hair dye. contrary to popular belief, the all-powerful jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t make use of his infinity when there was no real need to, his reasoning something akin to him wanting to experience moments of normalcy with those close to him.
“i’m great aren’t i? strong, handsome with a heart of gold,” he’d said, standing in akimbo.
“in an alternate universe, sure.”
you smile at the memory, recalling the way he tutted when you responded, earning chuckles from both shoko and geto.
“y’know on second thought–” satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “maybe blue would be a better option? make my eyes pop and all that,” he stalls, turning to look at you.
“it’s not gonna be this bright toru, it’ll be a lot lighter once we rinse you off. besides, i’ve only got pink right now–“
“great! so we should–“
“but you already said we could–“
and you’re both tugging, trying to grab ahold of the bowl. “toru stop it! you’re gonna–“
splat.
"ah," he blinks.
silence falls between the both of you, letting the sound of droplets hitting the floor echo loud in your ears. you’re wide eyed in disbelief, and it takes you a moment before you press your lips together in a futile attempt to conceal the snort that bubbles from your throat.
———————-
“don’t you look pretty?” geto teases, snapping a photo of satoru’s lifeless body as he sits limp at his desk, looking as if his soul had left his body. you’re sure it did last night after rinsing him off in the shower, fully clothed, the sight of him drenched in fuchsia finding a permanent home in your brain. shoko echoes after the raven-haired boy, resting her head on a closed fist.
satoru’s once moonlit hair now a splotchy mess of soft pink, the hair dye staining his eyebrows an even brighter shade of bubblegum. you had to practically drag him out the bathroom by the feet afterward.
“what have you done?” he whined, voice breaking.
“me?!” you gasped, “you had a part to play in this too!”
it was a miracle he’d even changed out of his wet clothes, albeit it taking around an hour or so. you’re sure he laid on the floor for the rest of the night after you’d left, geto being the first to find him in the exact same position this morning. thankfully, you hadn’t had to drag him to class.
at the very least, this would be another fond memory you’d share together.
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navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
Sweet and Strong
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You stop by the parlor to drop off some treats. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Fluff, flir-ting, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Tess is a real one, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) Graphics talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Bucky edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from my Sin on Skin AU.❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You did your best not to let your mind wander during the work day, but Bucky hadn’t left your thoughts since he dropped you off at your place. A dopey smile formed on your face more times than you could count. The tattoo artist was your dream come true. Someone who looked like they could destroy everything in their path, but treated you with such care.
And he said yes to a date with you.
How does a man like him exist?
“Careful,” Tess said, nudging you to the side so she could take a cookie from the case. “Keep making that happy face and it’ll get stuck that way.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled, making sure there were no customers looking as you typed a quick message to Bucky on your phone.
“Hope you have a good day, Hottie.”
After a moment, you cringed and put the device away. Though Bucky gave you his number after he dropped you off, you didn’t message him immediately. Waiting until today was better because enough time had passed, but was the text too casual? Not casual enough? Was it clingy to message him before you had your date?
Why am I overthinking this?
“If you’re smiling because of Bucky, it’s a very good thing. Especially after what he did to help you. I think he should get a permanent discount,” Tess said, making you raise an eyebrow when you didn’t detect a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“We talked about this,” you gently reminded her when she pouted, a look that told you she was still upset. “Please, stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
When Tess heard that Richard ambushed you after closing, she beat herself up for not being there. You assured her it wasn’t her fault that your ex showed up. She was thankful you were okay and that Bucky, and everyone else in the shop, stood up for you. She also added that if she saw Richard sniffing around the place that she’d kick him in the nuts.
Bucky assured you he wouldn’t come around and you believed him.
“I’m just sorry I didn’t see him get put in his place. Been a long time coming,” she said, a bit of mischief back in her eyes as she leaned against the counter to smile at you. “And I’m bummed I missed that kiss.”
“Why did I tell you about that?” you asked, your cheeks hot as you recalled the moment Bucky’s lip touched yours. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel him kissing you again. The memory made your heart swell.
As if on cue, your phone went off.
“Day’s better now that I’ve heard from you, Sugar. Can’t wait for our date. Planned something special.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you reread the message and hugged the device to your chest. You weren't sure how many women Bucky dated or how many special dates he planned before you. The thought of it being a high number didn't make your stomach sink as you expected. What mattered was that the two of you were taking a chance on each other.
And even though you technically asked him out, he took the time to plan something for you. When was the last time a guy did anything remotely nice for you without expecting something in return? Why had you settled in the past for less than what you deserved?
“You told me because we’re best friends,” Tess answered with a smirk when you looked her way. “Is that him?”
“Yeah, it’s him,” you smiled, showing her the message. “I wonder what he has planned.”
“Whatever it is, you better give all the dirty details when he dicks you down. And not to be graphic, but I bet he eats pussy like-"
“Tess!" you groaned, praying the nearby customers weren’t listening. But, god, if you hadn’t thought about what he’d be like in bed. He’d be so good to you. “Let’s try and be professional.”
“Professional, my ass. I’m not the one flirting with the hunk or making eyes at him every time he steps into the shop,” she pointed out.
Fair.
“And, look, I’m not saying you have to get laid on the first date, but I am saying you have to let him in your pants at some point,” she said, laughing as you tossed a towel at her face.
You laughed, too, and wondered just how the night would go. If you put out on the first date, would he think you were easy? If you waited too long, would he move on? You were overthinking again, but you couldn't help it. You really liked him.
He likes me, too, so I must be doing something right.
“What do you get out of it if I let him in my pants?” you asked curiously.
Tess placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “I get to keep seeing you happy, which you have every right to be."
"Thanks," you smiled, a wave of fondness crashing over you. The two of you saw each other go through many ups and downs of life. She deserved the world and it meant a lot that she wanted that for you, too. "Is it too much if I run some treats over for him? Especially since I just texted him?"
Bringing a small selection of baked goods for Bucky and the guys would be a small way to thank them for defending you. Deep down, it was also an excuse to see him before your date. You hoped it wasn't too obvious.
"The guy has visited the shop for all of your shifts since he first came in. So, no, it isn't too much if you surprise him and send something his way. He might like it."
"I'll be quick," you promised, selecting some of the best treats from the case, including one with little hearts.
"Take your time. Jill and I can handle this," she smiled as if she sensed your giddiness. "Go treat your man."
"He isn't my man yet," you teased.
But I'm already his girl.
"Yeah, he is," Tess winked, giving you a gentle nudge. "Now go."
It didn't take you long to cross the street to the parlor and thankfully you didn't drop the box. You hoped you looked decent. Well, as much as you could during a work day. At least you had a cute apron on.
"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" Jake said as you walked through the door. "Sugar! It's you!"
You held back a laugh when his voice echoed. "Yeah, it's me," you smiled, holding up the box. "I wanted to drop these off Bucky and the rest of you, if that's okay?"
"You brought us food?!" he asked, leaning on his arms to look over the counter. "Hold on. Lemme grab him."
"You sure? If he's with a client…" you trailed off when Jake dashed away from the counter.
You took a moment to look around again, your gaze settling on an intricate flower tattoo. Seeing the place without the fear of your ex following you made it even brighter than before. Like your shop, it was expressive and inviting. Bucky likely put as much love into it as you did with yours.
"That was my first piece."
You tore your gaze away from the wall to find Bucky beside you, a dopey smile back on your face. There was only a small amount of space between you and your heart raced as you looked him over, the large man clad in his usual tight shirt and jeans. He had his hair pulled back and you resisted the urge to tuck a few strands back that came loose.
He would manage to look sexy as hell with latex gloves on.
"It's beautiful," you said honestly.
"Thanks. She's a good friend and still a client of mine. So is her husband," he smiled gently. "I'm glad you stopped by."
"Me, too," you smiled back, holding up the box in your hands. "I just wanted to say thanks again to you and the guys for sticking up for me. It isn't much, but I hope you all enjoy them."
"Oh." A slight frown formed on his face when you handed him the treats. "You know you don't have to give us these, right? We didn't do it expecting you to give us anything in return and I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone speak to you the way that prick did."
You furrowed your brows a bit, even as you nearly swooned at his protectiveness. Had you upset him? "I know I don't have to," you said, clearing your throat. Why did the thought of them defending you just for being good guys make you emotional? "I just wanted to do something nice for you."
Was this a bad idea?
You let out a breath when he smiled again. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you didn't feel obligated," he said, touching your arm. Even with the glove, the touch sent heat between your thighs. "It's a very sweet gesture, Sugar. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you said, satisfied that he wasn't unhappy with the small gift. "And I'll admit. I also stopped by because I wanted to see you before our date," you added.
"You did?" he smirked, bringing warmth to your cheeks as you nodded. "While we're admitting things to each other, I've been watching the door and hoping you'd stop in. I even dreamt about you when I took a nap."
"No, you didn't," you giggled, a sense of power and elatedness filling you that his pull to you was that strong.
"I swear. I don't think Steve will let me live that down" he chuckled. You wondered what exactly he dreamt about. Was it passionate? Intense? "Can't get you outta my mind. And, frankly, I don't want to."
Oh.
You didn't think he could make your heart beat any faster, but he continued to surprise you. There was no shame or timidness in his tone or his stare. It was steadfast and true, like he wasn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve with you. If he could be vulnerable and open with you this way, you could do the same in return.
Go big or go home, right?
"I can't stop thinking about you either," you told him, proud that your voice didn't waver.
"You can't?" he whispered and you suddenly didn't like the box between your bodies. It made him feel too far away.
"No, I can't," you whispered back, gazing into his blue eyes. "I waited to text you because I didn't want it to be too soon. And even though I don't know where you're taking me on our date, I already have the perfect sundress laid out and ready to go."
"You can text me as much as you want. I don't care what time of day," he assured you before his eyes lit up mischievously, like he knew something you didn't. "And a sundress is fucking perfect, but no asking for hints about our date"
"Not even a little one? Please?" you asked, giving him what you hoped was a cute pout. You didn't actually want him to tell you because you wanted him to surprise you, but you hoped you looked enticing.
Bucky slowly licked his lips and shook his head. If he was trying to look hot, he more than succeeded. If he wasn't, did he have any idea what that teasing motion of his tongue did to you? "I'm tempted to tell you and I'm very tempted to kiss you right now, but no. No hints. I need to stay strong."
I'm very tempted to kiss you, too.
"Fine, Hottie. I'll be good," you teased, pouting again. "For now."
Bucky moved the box beside him so he could step closer, his eyes darker than before. "You wanna be good for me?"
Yes, sir.
"Yes," you answered, leaving out the "sir" that echoed in your mind and shivering as he continued to stare. Before you could say anything more, you noticed that the shop had gone quiet. You leaned over to look past Bucky and giggled when you saw the crew staring, taking you out of the moment. Steve and Hal both had knowing smirks on their faces, but no way could they have heard your conversation. "Hope you enjoy the treats!"
"Oh, we will," Hal winked. "What about you, Bucky? You gonna enjoy your treat?"
"Get back to work!" Bucky called back before he smiled disappointedly. "Speaking of, I should, too. I think my client gave me enough of a break."
"Yeah, I need to get back," you said. You didn't want to leave Tess and Jill hanging. "I hope you have a good rest of the day."
"You, too," he said as you went to the door. "Be good for me until I see you again."
Fuck.
"Only if you're good for me," you smiled over your shoulder, catching his surprised smirk before the door shut.
You took a breath, allowing the breeze to cool you off. Maybe a cold shower would do a better job. You smiled as your phone went off, expecting a teasing text from Tess. It caught you off guard when "Mom" popped up.
Well, that can't be good if she's texting me. God, did she somehow hear about Richard? The last thing I need is a lecture.
Instead of opening the message, you tucked your phone away. You needed to get back to work and you had a date to look forward to. You wouldn't allow your mom to sour your mood because Tess was right.
You had the right to be happy.
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No ruining this upcoming date, mom! Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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atimeofyourlife · 6 months
Text
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round: bakery au rated: t | wc: 840 | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie Eddie never got involved in the upside down, he and Steve meet again a few years later in a bakery in Chicago
The bakery was Steve's pride and joy. It was something that he had accomplished and built up by himself, without the input from his parents. No financial assistance from them, no help in learning how to manage a business. It had been a lot of trial and error, and incredible support from his friends, but he had succeeded. He'd brought the small unit in Chicago using most of the hush money payment over the Upside Down. It needed a lot of work doing to it before he was ready to open it, but once it was open it just took off. Constantly selling out of most of the bakes by lunchtime each day, having to take on extra staff to keep up with demand.
After nearly two years, he had a number of very loyal regulars, the ones who would come in at the same times and same days each week, always ordering the same things. The local workers that would always come in before work or on a morning break for a sweet treat everyday. The older couples that would come in twice a week, once for a dessert for their weekly date nights, and once for treats for their grandchildren. The college students that were adamant that Steve's pastries were infinitely better than the ones they could get on campus.
But the newest regular, one his staff had nicknamed 'Mr Metal,' Steve had yet to meet. From the name, Steve assumed that he worked in the new record store that had opened across the street, but the man always managed to be in and out while Steve was still working in the kitchen, setting up the next batch for the oven or decorating what had just finished cooling.
One Friday morning, he was carrying out the boxes ready to restock the counter, when he heard the voice of Zara, one of the cashiers.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Give me a minute, I'll just have to ask the boss."
"Ask me what?" Steve asked as he rounded the counter, the stack of boxes obscuring most of his vision.
"Please tell me that those boxes have lemon cream cheese pastries and apple pie cookies in them." She replied, sounding a little stressed.
"Yeah, lemon are in the top box, apple in the bottom." Steve replied as he put the boxes down on the side, and started unstacking them. He glanced up at the customer, a vaguely familiar, handsome man, and from the long hair, piercings, and the Black Sabbath t-shirt, this had to be the Mr Metal that all the staff kept mentioning. "How many of each did you want?"
"Two of each." The man replied, staring hard at Steve.
"Uh huh." Steve worked quickly to box them up. "Are you aware of our Friday five for four offer? Five bakes for the price of four, so you could get another of your choice at no extra cost."
"I get them for me and my coworkers, theres four of us so I don't think we can split a fifth four ways without fighting over who gets what."
"I can always bag it separately, so you can slip it in your pocket. They don't have to know a thing about it." Steve offered with a wink.
"You drive a hard bargain, Harrington. I'll take another apple pie cookie."
"I-" Steve looked at the man, confused. Unsure how he knew his name. "Did you go to Hawkins, then? I'm sorry, I don't think I remember you."
"You got a table round here? I could climb up and start talking about jocks and conformity." He looked Steve up and down. "Though, you don't seem to conform to the jock image any more, big boy."
It took another moment, but the name hit Steve as he was bagging the extra cookie. "Munson. Used to buy weed off you."
"I don't know if I should be honored that the king remembers me, or wounded that it took so long."
Steve rolled his eyes at the dramatics, it reminding him even more of high school. "I don't remember most people now, too many concussions."
"Shit. But now you're boss of a bakery. How life changes."
"Yeah. It only took three serious concussions, two major disasters in Hawkins, and one disownment after getting caught behind The Hideout with Matty P. But then I realized that this is what I want to be doing."
"What were you doing behind The Hideout with Matty P? Smoking weed or something? I know you never hid about that."
"We had been smoking, but at that point my mouth was, uh, otherwise occupied." Steve admitted.
"Oh, shit." Eddie choked back a laugh, then looked at his watch. "I'd love to hear more about that, but I've got to get back to work."
Steve quickly wrote his number on the bag with the extra cookie, before handing it over. "Call me sometime, maybe we could spend some time together outside of work."
"You're on, Harrington." Eddie winked at Steve, before leaving the bakery.
im not the happiest with the end of this bc it was rushed after my brain turned to mush from migraines
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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months
Text
Don’t imagine MK1 men edition;
This came to me as I was listen to asmr last night. Honestly have no clue what this is. 🦦
Don’t imagine Tomas asking you out of the blue about how he smells, having just finished using a new shower jell that had you recently bought, and once you were within range Tomas then pecks your forehead with his soft lips before pulling away with flustered cheeks and a dopey smile as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head.
‘I couldn’t resist.’ He claims. ‘I saw others doing something similar with their spouses, and so I guess I wanted to do it too. Pretty silly huh?’
Don’t imagine Raiden listening intently as you spoke, giving you every ounce of his attention towards the topic of discussion, smiling softly as his unwavering gaze never once faltered from your face; whereas yours would find a hard time staying glued to his beautiful dark ones because of how deeply he looked at you, making you feel not only heard but seen too.
Even as you apologised for talking his ear off, Raiden would counter that your voice was something he could never grow tired of, for it was his favourite sound.
It was such a simple thing but it was enough for you to feel yourself becoming fidgety under his gaze. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Raiden did this because it would always feel like the first time, every time.
Don’t imagine Liu Kang trying to make up for lost time by spending whatever small amount of time he had with you to the fullest before duty inevitably calls for his attention once more.
He’s fully aware that you don’t hold it against him and that you knew what you were getting into upon agreeing to being with him, but he couldn’t help but feel as though he was in some way selfish with you, to which you were quick in disagreeing with by saying he was more selfless then selfish.
However that didn’t stop Liu Kang from helping you with your daily tasks as a way of expressing his gratitude for you, whether that be going down to the market, making the bed, preparing breakfast or something to drink. Liu Kang will do it without a second thought because who knows when he’ll have to leave you again.
So he savours every moment while he can but it doesn’t make the pain of having to separate from you anywhere near bearable.
‘No matter how far apart we may be physically, that does not mean my heart isn’t any less always with you.’
Don’t imagine Kuai Liang holding you tightly to him during the cold nights, his above average body warmth acting as your only form of comfort to combat the cold drafts that would somehow make their way into your room.
He’d thoroughly enjoyed the view of you trying to get as close as possible to leech off of his warmth, he couldn’t get enough with just how perfect you slotted against him and would often times have to pull you back into his embrace when he felt you shift the slightest bit away from him.
Kuai Liang loves keeping you close to his person, it makes him feel as though he’s protecting you with everything that he has, he loves it even more when he gets the chance to wake up before you and chooses to admire your every feature with adoration and love, engraving every inch of your face to memory; even your every imperfection that you claim to posses was engraved into his mind as to Kuai Liang, to love was to love imperfectly.
Not all love was perfect but yours certainly the most perfectly imperfect love there was.
Don’t imagine Bi-Han allowing you to take care of his injuries when he gets back from missions.
Don’t imagine Bi-Han‘s muscles tense up initially upon feeling your hands upon his injured bicep, soft hands working away at the wound in a way that wouldn’t cause him any more pain then he was already in.
Don’t imagine Bi-Han as his his sharp, observant eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, it’s not like he didn’t trust you, he was just trained to be vigilant whenever he put his care within the hands of others. He would even do it with the medics now and then but quickly came to accept that they knew what they were doing.
Don’t imagine Bi-Han slowly coming to terms with just how touch starved he was when he found himself at the mercy of your tender, caring touch, practically giving over all power to you in that situation to do whatever you saw fit. You could’ve hurt him even further for all he knew but instead you treated each of his wounds with a kind of gentleness he had never seen nor received before.
Whatever you do don’t imagine Bi-Han inspecting your work after you were done, giving a satisfied grunt, before he did an uncharacteristic thing by grabbing your hands within his own and kissing the back of them in gratitude.
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whoahoney · 1 year
Text
Eddie from Chili’s
Waiter!Eddie x Shy!reader
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A/N: based off my experience with a super cute waiter I wrote about here. 😭 and no I haven’t been back yet! I still might, idk. But here’s this!!
Rip me + cole 4ever
Warnings: fluff, slight angst, shy!reader, fem!reader
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You stood in front of the restaurant, smoothing down the front of your open corduroy shirt, questioning the little black strappy top you wore underneath.
It had been a month since you’d been here last and you’d hoped to God he’d recognize you now that you were alone and looked nicer.
During your previous visit to the bar and grill, you had the pleasure of having the hottest guy seat you—and your mother— and you hoped he wouldn’t be your server due to the fact you wore your dingiest shoes and a mustard plaid flannel with a gray Nirvana shirt. Not to mention your hair had passed its expiration date by three days.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” He’d said after taking your order.
He towered over you, his black shirt fitting him in all the right places while exposing his heavily inked arms— skulls and mythical creatures flowed up and down his arms as if shrouded in smoke. You wondered how long it took and how badly it hurt as you dropped your bag in the space next to you and slid into the booth.
His eyes were deep golden brown and had thick lashes to frame them, and they were set on you after flickering over your being and saying, “—and in case you need anything, don’t be afraid to grab me, my name's Eddie.” He lingered for a moment longer before turning his shoulders towards the kitchen across the bar and you could’ve swore he winked on his way past, successfully stunning you to your core.
He returned with drinks after giving you ample time to look over the menu, spending his free time leaning over the counter to talk to the bartender who appeared to be his buddy, chuckling and exchanging slightly degrading comments as the older women in the booth behind you exchanged risqué quips about the two of them.
He’d placed the drinks on the coasters carefully before bringing his hands together in front of him, shifting his weight slightly, “Would you like to order an appetizer? Or do you need more time?” He looked at you and you looked at your mom like a helpless thirteen year old. She nodded at you to speak with a pleasant smile on her face.
You swallowed at your dry throat, “We need another minute, please.” You fought to keep your eyes on his as you spoke but they kept falling down the table or away from his face. He had to have known the effect he had on you.
“No worries!” He said brightly and drummed his hands on the table before going back into the kitchen.
You groaned to yourself and try to focus on the menu, the words suddenly too overwhelming to comprehend. There were so many. And all so close together!
“What are you getting, dear?” Your mother asked, “I’m getting chips and salsa, and the sirloin!” She beamed looking down at the menu.
“Uh. The, uh.” You shake your head, “I dunno.”
“Do you need me to order for you?” She asks, concerned, noticing your state.
“—No.” you answered firmly. “I just can’t figure out what I want, I’m just not hungry right now.”
“Get the chicken pasta, you like that!” She assured before nodding as the cute waiter approached again.
“Are we ready?” He asked with a smile, looking between the two of you before resting his warm brown eyes on yours. You were seated by the window on a bright overcast day, the warm light of the lamp hanging over your table cast him in a golden glow and you couldn’t help but nod and forget every word you’ve ever known in the English language.
You turn and look at your mom for help and nod at her, “You go.”
“We’ll take the chips and salsa, with queso too, and I’ll have the sirloin, medium rare, with the broccoli and potatoes.” She said, giving him enough time to write between each item, like everyone should. She handed him the menu and looked at you as he did.
Suddenly the light was blinding and you looked down to the menu to discover you still couldn’t read the fucking words on the folder before you. “I’ll have the chicken fingers. Four of them.” You cringe.
“… four orders? Like.. 16?” He schools his face as your face drains of any color and then fills back up with magenta, probably.
“Just the four, please.” You recover.
“And do you want fries with that?” He smiled with a teasing lilt to his voice, your lips twitch up at the corners much to your dismay.
“Yes, please.” You nearly grit out of your clenched jaw.
He barely glanced down at his pad as the pen scratched across it. “Alright. I’ll get that in for ya!” And he disappeared again.
“I think I know what’s going on.” Your mother mused as she gazed at the dessert menu.
You blanch and swallow again, “No, mom.”
“Oh, now I know I’m right.”
“No, you’re not.” You insisted.
“Do I need to ask him if he’s single?”
“Please no.”
“Well you oughta know that boy has been making eyes at you this whole time.” Your mother leaned forward to utter between you.
You sharply inhale at the thought of him looking at you the way he did. “I can’t think thoughts when I look at him, mom.” You whine as you sink into your seat. “It doesn’t help I look like a twelve year old today.” You ran your hands down your makeupless face.
“Well when you sit like that you look about 4, and he’s headed this way so you better get up.” She warned.
You shoot up in your seat and clear your throat, preparing to say thank you.
Eddie appeared with the basket of chips and cups of dip, lingering again as your mom plucked up a chip and scooped up some queso, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” He said only to you.
You wait for your mom to answer, but her mouth is full so you shake your head no, “No, thank you.” You say, sharper than you meant to. Eddie nods and gives a tight smile before walking back to the kitchen.
Between the time it had taken Eddie to get the order in and the chef to cook it to perfection and send it back your way, the women behind you began ordering more and more drinks, getting louder with their advances when the bartender helped Eddie deliver food to his tables.
“Aww, what a good friend!” One drawled as she accepted her plate.
“We’re actually brothers.” The bartender affirmed, his hair shaved short as opposed to Eddie’s long dark curls.
The women gasped and you turned your head to the side, noticing Eddie shyly putting his hands in his pockets as his brother clapped him on the shoulder once the food was served.
“So how are y’all related?” Another asked.
Eddie gave his brother the side eye, “… our mom and dad?”
The women cackled at themselves, crooning about how they should’ve known they were brothers by their good looks and sweet dimples. You nibbled on a chip as the brothers proved their parentage by pulling out their licenses when one of them claimed disbelief.
“Well you’re a good brother!” One of the women gushed to the bartender as Eddie made long steps to the kitchen, his brother lingering at the table and soaking up the attention as he picked up their empty glasses, “Oh, I’m just helping him out cause he’s working til midnight tonight.”
Suddenly he was back, a blur of black and white as he approached the table with the platter of your food. He handed your mothers to her and set your basket on the table in front of you before you had the chance to reach out, giving you a quiet warning about the plate being hot.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” He asked you, again. This time your mom didn’t have food in her mouth as he waited for your answer, “Could I get some ketchup?” You suddenly ask.
Eddie’s ears perked and he reached across the table to grab the red bottle by the window, opening the top and squirting a generous helping on the side of your plate. You look up at him dumbfounded and embarrassed, swallowing before uttering, “I'm sorry, thank you.” You burned in the cheeks again.
He smiled smugly before setting the bottle down, “No worries. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.” He said before walking back into the kitchen again.
You exhale deeply and rest your hand on your forehead, “Oh my god.”
Your mother cuts her steak and takes a bite, “He’s good at his job.” She shrugged.
“I freaking know.” You whined again. “I can’t even eat.”
“Don’t worry about it, just get a box later.”
You picked at your food until Eddie stopped back by when your mothers plate was empty. He took her plate and asked, “Are you feeling dessert? Lava cake?” He asked between you both as your mother gazed at the dessert menu yet again.
“Mmm… Yes! Let’s have a lava cake!” She nodded. “Can we get two spoons?”
“—oh, I don’t want any, mom.” You shook your head.
“You sure?” She asked, Eddie looked at you as if to ask the same thing.
You look at both of them and nod, “Yeah—yeah, I’m sure.”
Eddie nodded at you with soft eyes, “Alright, well, is there anything else I can get for you?” He asked you, a lilt to his voice.
“A to-go box, please.” You muster, keeping your gaze focused this time on one of his beautiful eyes. He smiles and nods, checking on his other tables on his way to the kitchen.
You couldn’t help but notice his time was shorter at other tables. He was prompt, kind, cool and collected. He had a way with people that put them at ease— except you.
He returned to the table with your empty box, the dessert, and a leather bound check— handing both to you.
He handed your mother the plate with two spoons, despite your request, then tapped a ringed finger on the surface next to you.
His body was angled towards yours, as if to show you he was asking you, and you only, “Is there anything else I can get for you before I go out on my break?” He leaned on his hand, his head dipping towards his shoulder as he clicked the pen in his free hand.
You swallowed again and took a quivering breath as your gaze raked down his frame one last time and you shook your head, “No, thank you.”
“A-Are you sure?” He pressed, clicking his pen almost nervously as he waited for your response.
“Mhm!” You said with a closed mouth smile as you dumped your chicken fingers into the box.
He smiled tensely before he nodded and walked away, less hustle in his step as he dug in his back pocket for his cigarettes and disappeared through the kitchen doors for the final time.
The interaction has haunted you since.
You were a grown woman! How dare he take up this sort of residency in your mind—over something as stupid as a one time interaction.
Eddie the waiter with his big stupid brown eyes and his easy going facade. You bet it’s all fake anyway, there was no way anyone was that charming without any effort!
He’s in service, it’s his job to be nice and appealing! Who’s to say he wasn’t just smooth and doing it for kicks and tips!
But you did notice the way his brother tended to the rest of his tables in his absence, as if he’d waited for only you to finish before going on his break.
You replayed the moment he may or may not have winked at you in your mind a thousand times, feeling so pathetic as you wished for him to do it again.
After much convincing from your friends— and mother— you decided you’d come back, alone.
And this time you’d put more effort into your appearance, your makeup flawlessly done and deciding to wear your favorite outfit, complete with your best ass hugging jeans. Your hair was washed and styled, loose curls framed your face and your perfume was your best; not too strong, and fresh yet warm.
It is 1pm on a Friday afternoon, the same time and day you’d come last time, hoping he’d be scheduled to work today.
And with a deep breath in, you yank open the door and walk inside.
Part 2
2K notes · View notes
tastesousweet · 3 months
Text
⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6
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matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : a little weed sure eases theses two up.
warnings : implications of sex & use of weed
mickey speaks : sorry this took a while to get out friends, hope u love it. also lowkey self inserting w the hawaii trip :P
THIS IS PART SEVEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!
“OH, he’s obsessed!” andrea exclaims across the table, a wide smile smothered over her face.
it didn’t take long for asha to call you and begin debriefing her month-long europe trip to you, only for you to cut her short (because matt began knocking on the door, complaining about how long you’d taken to piss) and ask her to finish her tell-all over lunch. she of course agreed and texted you the location of her favorite ramen place along with: “tell your roomie andrea that she can come with i wanna see u bothhhh!”
she’s spent the last half hour detailing the total princess treatment she’d experienced from a guy she met at her stop in london. “yeah, too bad i won’t see him again,” she pouts.
“you didn’t get his phone number that entire time?” you ask, fiddling with the chopsticks in your hand.
“oh of course i did, i just won’t be using it,” asha laughs and tucks a piece of her dark curled hair behind her ear. “it was nice while it lasted but i’m definitely not trying to deal with the hassle that comes with dating anyone right now,” she shrugs.
“you’re so bad!” andrea shakes her head and giggles, "but you know what, i get it."
asha hides her laugh by guiding noodles towards her mouth.
your phone buzzes softly against the counter and lights up, showing off a new text message from your mom, but more importantly your lock screen wallpaper displaying a sleepy figaro on your chest.
asha squeals through her chews as you pick up your phone to decide whether you’ll confront or procrastinate the text message (that will most likely sour your mood). andrea’s eyes widen at the girl as asha finishes up and starts to explain, “who’s cat is that?!” her acrylic nail taps against the table.
“oh, it’s ours,” you peer over your phone, deciding you’d rather not answer your mom’s text (she's asking how degree-related job searching has been, again).
“what?!”
“oh yes, he's my babyyy,” andrea coos while unlocking her phone to show off the many photos, “his name is figaro-.”
asha swipes through the phone in awe, “and when the fuck did this happen?”
“like a few weeks ago, i wanna say…” you turn to look at andrea while trying to remember.
“i’m coming over way more now. oh my god.” she gushes over the many photos of the playful black kitten before returning andrea’s phone.
“please do, it felt like you were gone for so long.” you whine out the beg before taking another sip of the warm broth.
asha sighs (in a way that causes her lips to flutter a little), “i know, i miss hanging out with my friends!”
“and we miss you! your ass is always traveling somewhere we have to soak up all your LA time while we can,” you joke.
the two laugh along with you, “i think i’ll be here for a while…not until like, my birthday.” asha thinks through her schedule and her mouth widens at the thought of her birthday, “oh my god! i forgot to tell you- mostly because it’s kinda far out? so, the past four years i’ve hosted trips for my birthday in late november... and i want you two to come this year!”
your eyes widen in excitement and your mouth is full of noodles, keeping you from letting out the loud 'yes' you wanted to. so andrea answers for the both of you, “well of course, we’ll come!”
asha’s face can’t possibly be stretched further with happiness as she celebrates, “yay, this’ll be so fun! you’ll get to meet some of my girlfriends and f’course the boys will be there so you’ll know a few people already!”
“and where are we going?” you ask with big, curious eyes.
“hawaii!"
౨ৎ
a distinct berry shade drips over the room in full swoops as the leaving sun peeks through matt's curtains ever so gently. your lips are now almost the same shade of the woven fabric, especially after enduring matt's undying and bitter kisses.
you hear him breathe a soft laugh, finding your body's limp, laid-out position to be straight out of an erotic femme painting: right leg and arm stretched above and below you, left arm above your waist to cradle your tits, and left leg bent and falling over the opposing leg.
you turn your head when you recognize his return, whispering, "hey."
matt’s bed dips accordingly when he lowers himself next to you, fixated on your still-exposed silhouette that hosts a few deep hickeys (he’s recently taken a liking to giving you them, his ego gains a small ignition at the thought of him placing them only where he gets to see), rather than your observant eyes.
he finds one he’d kissed into the skin under your printed hello kitty, leaning closer to lick and suckle at it more. you squirm and push his head away with a whine of his name.
he chuckles and moves his hair from his face, “put some fuckin’ clothes on then.” he lays your sweatshirt and panties, he gathered on his way back to you, against your chest.
you lift yourself easily, though a sleepy yawn still makes its way to you as you fit into the hoodie. matt shifts himself to slouch against his headboard. you finish your redressing before moving yourself higher on his bed as well.
matt thinks your phone screen is severely bright and headache-inducing but he doesn't complain as he normally would, instead he's more focused on balancing his joint-rolling necessities atop his wife beater clad torso.
you pay no attention to him as you exchange texts with remi:
REMI - 6:43 PM
OMFG
REMI
this guy im friends w thinks i should set you up on a blind date with a guy he knows :D
REMI
HE JUST SHOWED ME A PIC AND ... fuck
REMI
PLS SAY YOULL DO IT
REMI
u deserve a nice date night
Y/N - 8:36 PM
hi WHATTT
Y/N
idk rem😭😭
REMI
ABOUT TIME U RESPONDED HELLO
REMI
rlly you dont wanna??
Y/N
ill have to think about it
you sigh while turning off your phone, moving your body to better face matt, who's hands work to add the potent plant into his detailed silver grinder. there's obviously no need for you to stay in his bed or hang around for any longer, but as of late you both aren't necessarily itching to kick the other out as soon as clothes are back on.
"i wanna learn," you declare as you sit up more, looking down at his slouched figure.
"to roll?" he asks pausing his smooth routine and licking over his lips expectantly.
"yeah," you move your hoodie’s long sleeve cuffs away from the lower half of your palm, showing him your dedication and anticipation.
matt smirks and continues to zip the plastic bag once more, shaking his head.
"what? why not, matt?" you pout.
“because i’m already good at it,” he shrugs, “you can smoke with me but you don’t have to be the one to roll.”
“‘kay, whatever. i’ll just get someone else to teach me then, like chris or lucas or somethin’” stretching as you collapse back onto his bed and bury your face in the crook of your arm. when matt does nothing to pull you out of your dramatic fit, you decide to mess with him further, grabbing his phone from its place near his thigh and rolling over so that you lie on the plush of your stomach.
you pretend to type (actually just tapping against his uncharacteristically soft lockscreen, displaying a vintage looking photo of a woman you’d only assume to be his mother) then putting the phone up to your ear, mimicking the ring with a burring noise in your throat. “hey lucas! yeah it's me, matt never gave me your number! i know. that is really selfish and unfair!” you nod along while staring at matt who thinks you look and sound so stupid that it’s kind of cute.
you twirl your hair and bite your lip, really getting into character, “you're right, he is the worst. he won’t even let me roll up with him! but that’s fine, i think i may just need someone more skilled and sexy like you to hel-”
matt taps your barely covered ass harder than he intends to, shocking you in the best way. “alright, stop fuckin’ around and pay attention ‘cause i’m not repeating myself,” he softly demands, gesturing you to sit up with his fingers.
"ow!" you rub at the spot and roll your eyes in faux irritation, fighting the urge to smile now that you've successfully recaptured matt's attention and can still feel the heat of his hand on your ass. you try to give yourself grace in moments like this but you can't help but reflect and feel a bit pathetic when having a crush on someone like matt.
matt, who would never take a relationship further than casual sex and unserious after-sex smoke sessions, especially not with you.
"shh. come here, bruh" he hushes you and you obey, shifting to sit next to him, reflecting his bent position. "'kay," he hands you the grinder, mumbling, "take a look," as he grabs one of the natural hemp rolling papers and places the packaging on his nightstand.
you open the silver lid gently, eyes widening slightly and impressed with the dollops of finely crushed weed laying in the container. "how much do you use?"
"all of it," your head practically snaps over to look at him and he sighs, "y/n, it's like half a gram."
you fight the urge to dip your index finger in the crowd of weed and move it around, "still looks like kind of a lot."
"well, it's not," he shakes his head and adjusts his shoulders. "now you're gonna take some in your fingers and place it in this paper," he taps your distracted arm with his hand to bring your attention to the rolling paper he has curled slightly around his thumb. as you begin to take a hold of some of the substance he warns, "and don't do too much at once- i don't need you spillin' any on us or my bed."
"you're such a diva," you huff and softly sprinkle the weed into the wrapper he's holding.
once it's full enough matt shows you how his fingers guide the paper and fold it into its proper joint shape. he moves his hand towards your mouth, "now you gotta lick and seal it." you inch closer, hesitantly peeking your tongue out just a little to lick at the small flap. "okay, you need more than that baby-ass lick. but don't over-do the spit 'cause that'll fuck it up too," he eyes your mouth when you expose more of your tongue, successfully sealing the joint (with matt's guidance).
he finishes off the end of the joint before presenting it to you, "voilà," matt fiddles with the joint in front of your face before you boldly grab it from his hands.
you immediately encourage him with a wave of your fingers, "gimme that lighter, please."
he's slightly impressed with your sudden confidence and adjusts himself (removing the remaining items from his lower stomach, including the lighter you ask for) and reaches over to light it for you.
matt's lip falls between his teeth due to natural anticipation. the sharp, orange hue sparks to life and you gain a shyness as he approaches the joint in your mouth with it. suddenly your fingers take it away from your mouth as you whisper, "wait, matt."
matt dramatically throws his arm down, "yeah?"
"i don't actually know how to do this," a smile spreads across your face when you see matt's mouth slightly ajar and eyes disengaged.
"seriously? you started talkin' like you've at least smoked a couple times."
you hold a laugh in, "well like, i wanna try it. you just have to tell me what to do..."
"inhale the shit," matt gestures his hands, "hold in your lungs, blow it out. it's simple as fuck," he points to your hand holding the joint, "let's see it."
you deadpan, "you're so unhelpful," you shake your head and place it back in your mouth, "just light me up."
he rolls his eyes as his hand moves back up to you, you lean into the flame and immediately inhale as it comes to life in your mouth.
matt just smirks from next to you, amused at your attempt. you focus on holding it in your lungs and close your eyes as you exhale. the smoke exits smoothly and surrounds your head, when you open your eyes you immediately look over to matt who laughs when he sees a cough brewing in your lungs. you push his shoulder just as you begin a small coughing fit.
he goes to grab the joint from your hand but you raise it away, finishing your cough and putting it back into your mouth to taste the odd plant flavor again.
matt's laugh is still there just died down, "who the fuck are you?! 'just light me up' and then here you go actin' like you own shit." he points a finger at you with his eyes big and playful.
you smirk sarcastically, and your eyes crinkle in the softest way, when you lean closer to him in response, blowing smoke in his face.
౨ৎ
"so why're nick and chris staying so late at the warehouse?" you ask and play with the strings of your hoodie.
matt draws lines across your inner thigh with his fingers, "it's nick's month to do inventory and chris bought some crazy wall art shit he had to finish setting up-"
"you're not gonna help them?"
"oh yeah sweetheart, i'll actually go there right now and help them out." his eyes are so dewy and red you find yourself excusing his annoying sarcasm and instead wanting to kiss him and his puffy eyelids and his flushed cheeks, especially when you're sat on top of him like this.
"still, they probably wanted you around," you explain.
"why do you care so much about shit that doesn't involve you? i left them and invited you over so you should be happy." his voice eases his delivery to not come across so harshly while his eyes squint a little.
"you're right, s'not really my place to have a take on y'all's dynamic." you shrug and feel as his hands stop running over your thighs and instead squeeze harshly as he looks in your eyes.
"mmm, thank you for telling me i'm right," he smiles and leans forward to give your jaw a kiss with his wet, pink lips, "say it again and i'll be fully hard."
"you're a dog," you laugh as he pulls away. "what'd you do today?" you whisper, ignoring the sensation that comes with him feeling up your lower half.
"guess." he blinks slowly.
"mmm... i don't know. you tattooed some people, fucked me, made fun of me, smoked..." you list off on each of your fingers.
he nods along as you list each, making different facial expressions depending on the task. "those are all definitely things i did.."
"did you eat?"
"i mean, yeah...ish." he rubs his eyes and his mouth begins to curve slightly, knowing your next sentiment well enough he could say it with you.
as if on queue, you prompt him with a question that tends to come up quite often when the two of you finish fucking, "can we get food?"
౨ৎ
the doorbell of matt's shared townhome rings through the house as the two of you giddily stand near the door, "3, 2, 1.." you count through giggles before opening the door and facing the young man dressed head to toe in papa johns gear.
"oh. my. god!" you exclaim in a ridiculous country accent, "baby come here, they sent a man to sell us insurance or somethin'!" you call out and pinch your eyebrows.
before the man can get a word in matt comes into frame, cowboy hat in tow and his mocking accent deeper yet identical to your own, "now who 'den sent you here to harass my woman? huh?" he holds a tooth pick in his mouth and squints his eyes. "and how much would i owe to have whatever you got in them boxes, son?" he points and you try not to laugh from behind him.
"uh, it's just a pizza delivery that was ordered to this address, sir..." he looks around, checking the numbers displayed next to the door once more.
you peek your head back in, "you know what, charles, it was probably little john, you know he's always orderin' that amy-zun and what not from that tablet!"
"mmm..." matt pretends to think and not laugh as he holds onto a fake belt around his black sweatpants, "my lady's right," he cracks a smile, "you know how the kids get," he tuts and gestures to the man again while pulling out his wallet, "i owe you?"
"only $12.57."
"right," matt grabs a few bills and whistles, "wife, come grab this box for little john would you?" he hands the money over as you reach for the pizza box, "keep the change, boy." he tilts his hat in dismissal and as soon as the door is shut matt's falling to the floor with laughter as you laugh and place the pizza box down, screaming about how close you are to pissing yourself.
౨ৎ
"asha told me about her birthday trip in november," you say, licking your lips of excess pizza sauce.
matt nods and swallows to respond while wiping his mouth, "yeah she does that shit every year."
you adjust yourself on the bed and grab another slice of the cheese pizza in between you two. "it sounds fun, i'm excited," you say before taking a bite.
"yeah, it's usually fun. usually." he laughs.
"meaning?"
"last year in mexico nick almost fist fought asha's boyfriend because he was bein' shitty to her on her birthday. it was a fuckin' brawl everyday of that trip, i swear."
"damn."
"yeah. but don't trip, asha's not letting anything ruin her birthday this time, she loves herself too much to do that." he rolls his eyes in endearment towards his friend.
"well, how about you? your birthday's next weekend.."
matt shakes his head and looks to the side for a moment, "we always struggle to figure out what we're doing for our birthday. the three of us wanna spend that time together but chris wants a party, nick wants a small get together with games, and i'd want a lowkey dinner or something."
"you could always do all of the ideas but on different days."
"that drags it too much, we'll most likely host a party like we did last year, chris will probably nag us enough to make us give up." matt shrugs and takes a bite of his slice.
"well, i'll be at whatever you decide to do," you smile.
"oh will you now?" his eyebrows lift for just a moment in humor.
"well duh."
"and who's inviting you? cause it won't be me," he smiles and stuffs his mouth again right as you push his shoulder and laugh off his bad joke.
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆🎱˚
tag list (ily):
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@whicked-hazlatwhore @matthewsturnioloswifey @mayhem-72
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 5
WC:1063, Masterpost
CW: dissociation, self esteem issues, (past) dehumanization, referenced torture and experimentation
Danny flinched, again.
He felt bad for it, Red Robin was being as careful as possible sliding the rubber fabric between the collar and Danny’s skin, but it was just that having hands on the collar like that freaked Danny out. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the numbers of pi. He used to know over a hundred of them. Now he was only certain of about seventy-six or so. There were a lot of things that used to be so much clearer in his memory than they were now.
“Just the overlap now,” Red (the others just called him Red), said.
He flinched again as Red pressed lightly against his neck to overlap the fabric, but the hands pulled away after.
“Do you need a little break?” the other one, Nightwing, asked.
“No. I just want this off, please,” Danny begged. He had gotten used to begging in the last year. Years?
“We’ll get it off,” Red said confidently.
Danny tried to trust that. He kept his eyes closed.
A gloved hand slipped into Danny’s, giving him something to cling to other than the sheets. Danny recoiled at the touch at first, but when the hand started to pull away, Danny twisted their fingers together and held on tightly. He didn’t open his eyes to see who’s hand he was holding.
As Red started to work on the collar, Danny couldn’t help but tense. He’d been shocked by it so many times. He was like Pavlov’s dog, collar and all, he thought bitterly.
“Almost there,” Red warned.
Danny could tell the instant that the seal of the collar was broken. It was like moving a limb that had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles were everywhere, inside and out. It was agonizing.
It was a relief.
A damp cloth was dabbing under his nose.
He blinked rapidly and Nightwing came into focus. The hero looked so concerned.
“Wha…” Danny croaked.
“Nose bleed,” Nightwing explained. He folded the cloth and set it aside.
Moving slowly (though Danny still struggled to follow the motion) Nightwing reached out and places his hands on either side of Danny’s face. Gently, he tilted it this way and that. “You didn’t exactly lose consciousness, but you… went somewhere else.”
“I do that, I think,” Danny said. The hands started to pull away and Danny swayed after them. One returned to help keep him upright. Danny’s eyes fluttered closed. “It was easier… to be away than there.”
The thumb stroked gently across Danny’s cheek.
He could feel himself tearing up. When was the last time he had been touched with kindness? Why was he now? They didn’t know what he was, that’s why.
“You’re safe here, I promise. You don’t have to go away anymore.”
-
Jason looked up from the cutting board when Dick came out of the bedroom. Dick did his best to offer his brother a smile as he took a seat on one of the slightly rickety stools at the kitchen counter.
“How is he?” Jason asked. He had swapped his helmet for just a domino. (To Dick it was a pretty clear sign that Jason has already claimed the kid as theirs.)
“Better. The nose bleed stopped and he was fully conscious again,” Dick said. “He says he does that, goes away like that. It sounds like it was a defense mechanism for whatever those bastards put him through.”
“Fucking hell,” Jason muttered.
“Yeah. I’ll let the others know so that anyone looking over him knows to watch out for it. Especially if anyone takes him out shopping or anything…”
“Right,” Jason said with a grimace, clearly picturing how badly that could go.
Dick just gave a little nod. He dragged the table that Tim must have been using close and opened it to check on the rest of the family.
“You, me, and Cass?” Jason asked a few minutes later.
“What?”
“One of us three should always be here, right? Or Babs if we move to a different safe house.”
Dick hummed thoughtfully. “There’s something to be said for moving safe houses if the kid plans to wait awhile before wanting to see Bruce.”
This safe house was bearable, but it really was one of their worse ones. It didn’t even had a table to eat at or a television. They could deal with the one bedroom and a couch, but Dick got the feeling there would be a lot of Bats stopping by whenever possible and that it wouldn’t quite cut it.
“We can see how Kid is tomorrow after rest and food,” Jason said. “If he’s up to being in a car with us we can easily move to any of them.”
“Maybe the one on Rosserie Street?”
“Which one is that?”
“Upper East Side.”
“Ah, yeah,” Jason said with a little nod, pushing the things off his cutting board and into the large pot on the stove. “That one would work. More space and better stuff.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Dick said. It was one of their apartments set up for a long term hideout if one of them was too injured to be seen in public or supposedly out of town as cover. “And big enough beds people can share.”
Jason snorted. “I’ll stick to the couch. The demon brat kicks.”
“Do you think he’ll stop by?” Dick asked as he picked at the thick rubber case on the tablet.
With a heavy sigh, Jason crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Yeah, I think he will. I think he’ll need to, for his own sake. I’d rather it be when you were here, you’re the only one of us who can really control him if he gets… territorial.”
“He’s been better,” Dick pointed out.
“This is different and you know it. This is blood, even if it’s green. Hell, it being green might actually make it worse.”
Dick groaned and let his head thunk onto the tablet. “Yeah… I’ll talk with him and try to get B and A to also.”
“Yeah,” Jason said and reached over to pat Dick on the back.
Why did being a the oldest have to be so exhausting? And now there was another one. Not that Dick would trade any of them away, but he could really use a vacation, a drink, and a long nap.
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.
---
AN: Dick really really wants to hug Danny but is really really afraid of scaring him. Don't worry, he'll get hugs.
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